#translating left me with more questions than answers i think | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

vettelsvee · 5 months ago

Note

Hi love! For your tortured poets department, can I request endgame from the reputation album, lando being the driver please please 🙏

END GAME | Lando Norris

Lando Norris x Friend with benefits Piastri!Reader

SUMMARY: You were used to have random hookups just for fun, including with Lando Norris himself. It's not until he decides to lock both of you up on his driver room and talk about your weird relationship that you don't realize that, deep down, you're willing to settle down your mind and start a dating him ↳ REQUESTED: Yes! Thanks for requesting and hope you like it 💖 Part of REPUTATION in MY TORTURED DRIVERS DEPARTMENT

WORD COUNT: 2745

WARNINGS: Slightly +18 at the end (sorry for leaving it there ☺️), mentions of friends with benefits, spelling with multiple people, angst, curse words

VEE'S NOTES: Haven't written Lando in a very, very long time, so hope you like this one! University and my mental health are killing me but you know what? Writing is what keeps me going (and specially your comments have been a boost of serotonin for me lately). Also... the 2k special is already living rent free in my mind and I can't wait to achieve the goal to post it 😭 I wanna give spoilers now so... you know 🤓 ↳ TALK TO ME / REQUESTS! | FORMULA 1 MASTERLIST

"You finally decided to show up at a race. I was starting to think you only liked having me naked in your bed behind your brother’s back."

You smiled at the screen, playing with your fingers as you thought how could you answer Lando. Your relationship was based purely on sex, moreover sexting, with barely any real conversations whenever you met, moans and orgasms speaking for you both instead.

You had never felt the need to go beyond that, to involve feelings in your relationship, or at least that’s what you had made clear to Lando before sleeping with him the very first time. You also let him know that, besides him, there were other guys with whom you had no commitments whatsoever.

However, it was with Lando that you spent most of your time. The others were nothing more than a safe escape, an easy way out when the Brit wasn’t around.

"Be grateful that I even came," you finally replied. "And don’t flatter yourself. I came to see my brother, not to make you come before a race."

You hesitated, wondering if your reply was harsh enough to keep him from getting any ideas and, more importantly, to stop him from insisting on meeting up. You weren’t sure how, but you wanted to end that strange relationship before it spiraled out of control because, whether you wanted to admit it or not, you had started to feel something for him.

Yes, just a few weeks ago, you had one of your usual encounters with a friend of one of your best friends. But everything fell apart when, right before reaching your climax, you couldn’t help it: you moaned Lando’s name instead.

That was what made you question what exactly you felt for Norris and why the label of friends with benefits seemed to be fading away.

"Don’t play dumb, Piastri. See you at the motorhome. You know exactly where."

You huffed. Of course, you knew exactly where you’d be meeting. After all, ever since your brother became a Formula 1 driver, you had visited his teammate’s personal room more than Oscar’s.

With a sigh, making sure neither your mother nor your sisters were nearby, you got up, grabbed the plastic cup that still had a bit of coffee left, and walked with as much determination as you could muster toward McLaren’s motorhome, finishing your drink along the way.

As you walked, mentally preparing a script in case things got tense with Lando, you greeted the people you knew, or at least those who knew you as Y/N Piastri. Lewis was genuinely happy to see you and even stopped to chat, but you excused yourself, saying you had already made plans. Fernando gave you a knowing look, as if trying to figure out what exactly you were about to do with a certain driver.

Even your brother crossed paths with you at the entrance to McLaren’s motorhome. You managed to lie to him, partially, saying Lando had asked you to take a few pictures of him before the race.

Oscar gave you a strange look, then rolled his eyes, offered a small smile and told you to enjoy whatever it was you both were about to do.

You said nothing, but you knew your twin brother well enough to realize he already had a pretty good idea of what you were up to with Norris. Not that you tried too hard to hide it.

When you reached Lando’s room, you didn’t even have to knock. The door opened instantly, revealing a slightly tired-looking Lando with a cup in his hand. His race suit was already on but zipped only to his waist, leaving the top half hanging loose. His team cap was still on, though it didn’t last long since he took it off and tossed it aside within seconds.

He grinned from ear to ear, like he had been waiting for you with far too much anticipation.

"Come in. Make yourself at home," he said with that mischievous tone you were so used to hearing, though something about it felt slightly different this time.

You walked inside without hesitation, crossing your arms and ignoring him, except for the occasional sideways glance to see if he would do or say something before you did. Unfortunately, he didn’t.

"If you wanted a quick fuck before the race you could’ve just said so, you know?"

"I don’t think today’s the best day to fuck you and let everyone hear," he replied. "At least, not yet. Today, we’re going to talk."

"We don’t talk, Lando," you shot back, feeling an internal alarm go off. "And when we do, it’s just to ask about the safe word of the day, what we want to do to each other, and how close we are to coming."

"Well, maybe it’s time we started talking, don’t you think so?"

His answer took you completely by surprise. Your gazes remained locked on each other, and you felt the atmosphere grow tense.

For the first time in a long while, there was no excuse you could use to avoid that conversation with Lando. Maybe the fact that you had been ignoring him for the past few weeks was enough to make him realize that there was a chance—however small—that things had changed between you two.

You took a deep breath, trying to calm the growing sense of unease settling in your chest. Lando kept looking at you with that same intensity he always did, except this time… it was different. It wasn’t the first time you found yourselves in a situation like this, where there were a thousand unsaid things hanging between you, waiting to be voiced. But it was the first time, at least on your part, where feelings were involved beyond pure physical desire.

"I don’t think there’s anything to talk about," you said as nonchalantly as possible, but your tense posture betrayed you.

Lando set his cup down on the table beside him. Then, he sat on the edge, crossing his arms again, and reached for your hands only for you to pull away and take a step back.

"I think you know exactly what we need to talk about," he replied calmly. His voice was lower than usual, and you felt the heat grow between your legs. You shook your head, feeling guilty and doing your best to push away that sudden, but familiar, awakening in your body.

"You’ve been avoiding me, Y/N. And don’t tell me you haven’t, because you were in Monaco and never called me to meet up… to see each other," he added, his voice laced with something unreadable. "In fact, we usually sext almost every day, and you didn’t even bother to tell me what new lingerie set you bought for when you came over."

"I didn’t tell you I was coming to Miami either."

Your reply, rather than making you sound indifferent, exposed you completely. Lando raised an eyebrow, as if he had caught you red-handed. That was when you realized you had seriously screwed up.

"I haven’t been avoiding you, Lando. I’ve just been busy," you insisted.

"Busy? You mean busy by ignoring me?" He scoffed, ironic. His expression turned much more serious now, and you started to worry about where this might lead. "Tell me the truth, Y/N. What’s going on? What’s happening with you?" he emphasized.

You averted your gaze, pretending to take interest in the room’s decoration, a room you already knew by heart. You knew you couldn’t keep dodging the topic, but you also had no idea how to confront it without changing everything you had so far. It was impossible to put into words what you felt for Lando, not when your relationship had always been purely physical. And especially not when there was a real chance you were just confused… and, well, you couldn’t forget the possibility that he might only see you as his hookup.

"Nothing’s wrong," you finally responded.

"I thought we were always honest with each other," Lando sighed, running a frustrated hand through his hair.

You felt your throat tighten. It was hard to breathe. You had been honest, at least when it came to the unrestricted desire between you, to touching each other without attachments, to seeking comfort in one another without questions that went beyond your wildest fantasies. You had avoided anything personal.

But now, you were slowly breaking the unspoken rules that had kept you in perfect balance until this moment.

"I’ve been busy, Lando, and the last thing I wanted was to deal with you, alright?" you insisted, trying to sound as convincing as possible. "Things should have stayed the way they were until, according to you, I started ignoring you."

"No, Y/N, things aren’t like that," the Brit denied, shaking his head. He stepped closer, cornering you against the wall. "If you don’t want to face something because you’re afraid of rejection, just tell me. But, for fuck’s sake, don’t act like I did something wrong, because you’re killing me."

"Lando…"

"Stop insisting that nothing is happening between us, when that’s exactly what makes me think the opposite."

His confession caught you completely off guard. His words—clear, direct, and without a hint of sarcasm, threw you off… especially because you knew he was right.

You felt the urge to run, to disappear, to pretend none of this had ever happened. Most of all, you wanted to deny yourself any romantic thought you had ever had about Oscar’s teammate.

When you lowered your gaze, Lando moved back slightly, giving you space and making sure he didn’t overwhelm you more than you already seemed to be. You sighed, trying to relax once again, but before you could say anything, he spoke first.

"Tell me nothing’s wrong between us, Y/N Piastri," he said softly. "If nothing has really changed, if everything is the same between us… dare to look at me in the eyes and say it."

Your chest tightened. You couldn’t run away, not when Lando had you emotionally cornered, teetering on the edge of an explosion. Your breathing was unsteady, heavy. Your mind screamed at you to find an excuse, anything that would let you stay true to yourself regardless of what happened next.

Lando waited, unmoving, his blue eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made you tremble for the first time in your life—without him even touching you. It was the first time he had shown himself to you like this: so vulnerable and yet so determined at the same time.

"Nothing is wrong between us, Lando Norris," you finally whispered, forcing the words out, ignoring both your heart and the boy standing in front of you.

"Say it again, but this time, look me in the eyes."

He didn’t move an inch. He knew you were lying; your posture gave you away—the way you avoided his gaze, the way your fingers toyed with the hem of your shirt and your accreditation pass…

You squeezed your eyes shut tightly. You had no choice… at least, not entirely.

Lifting your gaze, you met his blue eyes once again. Your lips parted slightly, ready to try and let out a lie convincing enough for both him and yourself.

But it was impossible. You couldn’t keep doing this, not when, deep down, and no matter how hard you tried to deny it, you felt something more than just pleasure for Lando Norris. The fear of rejection… it terrified you. The thought of him turning you away, of losing what you had with him, was unbearable.

"Lando…"

"You don’t have to say it if you’re not ready," he interrupted. "But please… stop pushing me away. Stop making this to us."

"It’s just…"

Nothing. No matter how much you tried to explain yourself, to find a logical enough reason for your sudden ghosting, you couldn’t.

"It’s just what, Y/N?" the Brit pressed. "Are you afraid to take a risk? To admit something because you’re scared of what might happen next? Because you don’t want to change the life you’ve had until now? Because you want to…?"

Lando forced himself to stop. He ran his hands through his hair, exasperated, turning his back to you. Guilt hit you immediately, your body trembling as the storm inside you began to break free. The driver rubbed his face, frustration radiating from him. This was exhausting him. You were exhausting him, to the point where he was starting to doubt his own feelings. Feelings that had started to grow the moment he realized it hurt when you ignored him, when you didn’t even send him a simple "Hey."

"I wish this were different, Y/N," he finally murmured, his voice thick with emotion as he turned to face you again. "I wish you didn’t make me feel like this. I wish I could just be content with what we had before and pretend none of this was happening…"

Your stomach twisted painfully. That was exactly what you had been thinking, the very reason you had pulled away from him and from whatever this was. You had ignored the fact that your feelings for Lando Norris had become something much stronger—maybe they had been there for far longer than you were willing to admit.

"Lando, listen" You tried to step closer, but he pulled away.

"No, Y/N, no," he said bitterly. "I tried convincing myself there was a reason you were ignoring me, acting like I was nothing to you, and then it hit me that I really want you as more than just someone to fuck."

"That…" you struggled to say, stepping toward him. This time, Lando didn’t stop you. The sincerity in your eyes, the way you looked both calm and nervous at the same time, made him realize he had to trust his instincts. And that was exactly what they were telling him.

"That’s what I wanted to tell you," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper, but Lando still heard you. "That’s why I kept you on standby for two weeks… I knew this would change everything, that you’d react badly, that we’d end up fighting, and I… I didn’t know how to face the possibility of you rejecting… this."

Lando stared at you in surprise before a sad smile crept onto his lips.

"Y/N… I’ve always been good at reading signals, but this has been driving me fucking crazy."

"And you think it’s not been making me feel the same?" you shot back, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders.

Lando stepped closer, taking your hands in his. You didn’t resist, feeling how the both of you tensed at the contact. His lips inched toward yours, and when they finally met, the kiss was so fierce, so full of passion, that you ended up straddling him on the couch, moving against him, desperate to feel him. Even though you both knew there was still a race in two hours.

"I don’t want to touch you like this, Y/N," Norris whispered against your ear as you left small bites along his neck. "Y/N, stop it babe…"

"I don’t wanna be just another ex-love to you, Lando…" you murmured between kisses, still searching for friction between your bodies.

"And I don’t wanna miss you like your other lovers do, babe…"

This time, Lando gripped your waist firmly, flipping you onto the couch beneath him. His eyes never left yours as he carefully lifted your shirt and started massaging your breasts over your bra.

"I wanna be your end game, Y/N," Lando breathed, unable to tear his gaze away from you.

Your breath came out in shallow pants, and you felt like you were teetering on the edge. Your hands gripped the unfastened gear around his waist, tugging lightly to keep him close.

"Then prove it."

"I have a race in two hours, love…" he murmured, his voice rough as he pressed his forehead to yours, his arousal growing.

"Then you better be quick," you teased, running your hands over his abs beneath the fireproof. "Especially if you don’t want Osc to hear us…"

"You’re gonna be the death of me one day, Y/N Piastri," Lando groaned as he trailed his fingers up your thighs, lowering himself before you. "Now, open your legs for me... You deserve a punishment after being such a bad, bad girl these past few days…"

804 notes · View notes

le-trash-prince · 26 days ago

Text

That KimKenta Scene

Kim truly has so much empathy and understanding. Here's a man that no one would blame Kim if he hated him, but all Kim can see is Kenta's hurt.

I also just uhhh need to scream at the sun because we've never seen anyone ask Kenta how he feels about anything, and here Kim comes and rips the bandaid off of the gaping wound of Kenta's heart.

Kenta tries to dodge Kim's question, so Kim responds in true Kim fashion, by being more direct. And more than that, he sits down next to Kenta, putting the two of them on even ground. If he wants honesty from Kenta, he can't talk down to him.

It makes me think of the most personal conversation Pete and Kenta have had with each other so far this season, and how much Pete towered over Kenta the whole time.

But Kim meets Kenta where he’s at. And sitting next to Kenta also lets him see Kenta's face, because that's where the answers lie. Yes, he's heartbroken, yes, he's in love with Pete. It's written all over Kenta's face.

cue Kenta's internal flashback that Pit Babe knows it doesn't even have to show us:

bc the visuals of Kenta and Kim sitting side by side in black and white are such a distinct reminder of That One Time Pete Found Out About Kenta's Feelings. And while there's ambiguity about whether Pete actually truly knows how Kenta feels, the man is a touch empath.

Kim's solution to everything is of course to tackle it head on. "Just tell him, and then maybe you can be happy." Kim assumes that Pete doesn't already know because 1. When do Tony Chen's kids ever talk about their feelings? And 2. If Pete knew about Kenta's feelings, why would he treat Kenta the way he has. (And 3. If Kenta loved you, how could you do anything but love him back? Impossible in Kim's opinion)

And this tiny, self-deprecating smile Kenta gives here tears me to shreds. "No way." He knows there's no chance. He's always known there was no chance.

This is translated as "He just doesn't feel the same," but what Kenta says is "kao kae mai dai chop pom." He just doesn't like me.

I think they probably translated it the way they did to remove the ambiguity of the word "like," to clarify that Kenta's romantic feelings aren't returned. But the ambiguity cuts me to pieces every time I listen to this line bc if Kenta feels like Pete just... doesn't like him? As a person? Like Pete only cares for him out of a sense of obligation, but doesn't actually want to be around him? Like a family member who you're tied to, but you don't actually like? I need to go outside and scream at the sun.

And there's the Oh. on Kim's face. Because yeah, sometimes honesty has its price, and that price is having someone knowing you love them and them walking away from you anyways without a single reassurance that they care about you.

And I wonder how much Kim is reassessing all the interactions he’s seen between Pete and Kenta. The way Pete left Kenta with Kim. The way he said he would find an escape route for Kenta and then never mentioned it again. The way Kenta was willing to put himself at risk by leaving Kim's apartment to go talk to Pete, only for Pete to ask, “Do we have to do this now?” The way Kenta could have been killed earlier that day, and Pete never once asked if he was okay.

"Never felt anything for me." "He just doesn't like me." I'm falling apart at the seams I swear to god.

Kenta has spent his whole life chasing affection from Tony and from Pete, only to be abandoned by Pete and treated like an animal by Tony. And he just accepts it. He accepts that he's never had a father and that Pete doesn't even like him. I need to bundle him into a pile of blankets. I'm going to chew my arm off.

But it's okay because Kim is gonna bundle him up in love for me. I'm certain this is the first time anyone has ever told Kenta he could be loved. And Kim says it so easily, so matter-of-factly, like it's a simple truth. It doesn't feel like an empty platitude from Kim, it just reflects the way he lives his life. If you meet an obstacle, you either find a way through it, or you shift your trajectory.

Kenta gives Kim such a dubious look in response, though, like the idea of being loved is a fairy tale he stopped believing in long ago. He can't believe that anyone would truly love him because no one ever has. As much as it's a truth for Kim that Kenta can be loved, it's a truth for Kenta that it's impossible.

Except Kenta still craves love anyways. It's why he immediately replaced Tony with Pete, why he's trying to make Pete proud, why he keeps showing up at Pete's in the middle of the night to go, "Hey look, I can be useful, won't you let me stay?"

I know it's impossible for Kenta to believe Kim right now. But even if he resists the idea of Kim loving him, Kim will be determined to prove it to him. Already, he's earned Kenta's trust through simple, concrete actions. More than anyone else right now, Kim is in a position to hurt and torment Kenta, and instead he keeps going out of his way to help Kenta. He has sheltered Kenta, he has kept Kenta from isolating himself, and more than that, he has seen Kenta without judgement.

And the fact that Kenta was willing to open up this much to Kim is proof of that trust. Kenta spent all of s1 hiding his pain and suffering, and the only time his mask crumbles around other people is when he is at a breaking point.

But with Kim, with the first person to ask how Kenta feels, he's able to let himself be vulnerable enough to say Everything I have ever done has been for men who never loved me. And in return for that vulnerability, Kim reaffirms that trust by telling him, It's okay, you can still be loved anyways.

#this took me two days bc i kept having to close the tab and stare at the ceiling #em post #pit babe #pit babe the series #pit babe 2 #long post #pit babe meta #kimkenta #kenta pit babe #kim minsu

300 notes · View notes

jo-com · 1 year ago

Text

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ ➛ Mine

Charles Leclerc x fem!reader

Summary: He's yours, and you're his. That's how it should be.

Tw: DARK, implied smut, obsession, manipulation, possessive behavior, branding, angst, jealous charles, some grammatical error, not proofread, google translated french cause i can't speak french and sorry if i wrote it wrong i just started writing again so idk if this is good or not.

words: 1.1k

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ➛ My Masterlist (Part 2)

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ───

From the start, Charles was nothing more than amazing—he would give you endless adoration and assurance, and overall was the perfect boyfriend. He would worship you like you were some kind of goddess—well, in his eyes, you were.

But Over time, his once pure love became a crazy obsession.

The need to always be by your side and not let any other guys come closer to you, talk to you, or even breathe the same air as you intoxicated his mind and clouded his judgment.

And you start to see changes that would never occur in the past—changes that weren't good. Like that time when you and Carlos were just casually talking and catching up—that sight alone was enough to make his once-puppy dog eyes become piercing ones. Burning a hole in both the backs of your heads, from across the room you could see how tensed he was, his jaws clenched and his hands gripped the seat making the texture of the seat all crinkly.

At that time you only shook it off as a "concerned gesture" and never said anything about it to him.

But then it was constantly happening; he would always get riled up whenever someone would just approach you, whether it was a girl, boy, kid, or even animals; he was getting jealous over almost everything.

You started to worry that things would get even more complicated as they continued. So you stood your ground and got up the courage to voice your concern to him.

...

"Charlie?" you said softly, entering the room, where he was reading. Your eyes scanned around the room then stopped when you spotted his figure.

There he was, sitting by the fireside with a book in his right hand and the other resting on the armrest. He looked like one of those guys that were sculptured to perfection, but you knew that, underneath that godlike demeanor was one possessive beast that was hard to tame.

Hearing your voice, Charles looked up from your direction and immediately lit up. "Oui? Mon chéri," he responded with his thick French accent.

You smiled half-heartedly and slowly walked to where he sat. From your action, he could tell that something was bothering you.

His face scrunched up with a frown as he stared intently at you as you sat down on one of the armrests.

"Is there something bothering you, Mon cœur?" he asked, lowering down the book he was reading and then slowly snaked up his free hand to rest on your waist.

You let out a deep sigh before answering, "You'll tell me when something's up right?"

He didn’t answer but just tilted his head and stared at you blankly. At that moment there were many questions running through his mind, but one particular thought stood out: Why would you ask something out of the blue when everything has been perfect? not unless someone put thoughts into that pretty little naive head of yours.

He let out a low chuckle—the grip on your waist tightened as he sucked out a breath—your eyes met his. Seeing the lack of emotion as he stared back at you, sent shivers down your spine, and what scared you even more was when he gave you a calm but menacing smile.

"What makes you think that there's a problem sweetheart?"

You bit your lower lip, holding back the urge to just blurt out your thoughts.

That small gesture was not left unnoticed by Charles. He raised his other hand and touched your lower lip, softly grazing his thumb to where you sunk your teeth. "You know you can tell me anything, right? Mon cœur? he assured.

His expression didn't change; the loving eyes that you once knew were now an emotionless void. With that look, you knew he was getting impatient the longer you stayed silent.

Breaking the silence, you slowly nodded your head and smiled lightly. "Yeah, I know baby, it’s just that you’ve been off lately and you get so riled up easily, mon amour—I know that you mean no harm, but it’s just too much and i-"

“Do you think I like being that way? ”Charles cuts you off.

He gazed at you—eyes filled with rage from what you just said. You squeaked at his burning glare and were quick to look away. The hand that used to rest in your waist was now at the bridge of his nose, pinching it with frustration.

"You know i wouldn't be that way if not for you, y/n. I am just keeping you safe from all those disgusting men at the paddock, tu ne sais pas de quoi ils sont capables y/n (you don't know what they are capable of)."

You kept your head down and stayed quiet, not wanting to say anything further that might ignite more of his anger.

Charles stared at your weak state and sighed heavily.

He stood up, standing in front of you. His hands are cupping both your cheeks, forcing you to stare at him. Charles rubbed your rosy cheeks soothingly, making you lean in on his touch.

"Everything I do is for you, mon chéri, okay?"

You looked at him through your eyelashes and smiled. Charles just wants you to be safe and there's nothing wrong with it, maybe your just overthinking it?.

Charles smiled and kissed your temple; hugging you close to him as if you'd leave once he let's go.

Only a fool would believe that Charles's "just wants you to be safe".

Y/n was a fool

...

Your body jolted at the sensation, your hand moving to your mouth as you bit down the urge to moan out loud.

The two of you were inside a closet room in the pit. Charles decided to pull this stunt the moment he laid eyes on you and Max talking. Like usual, he got riled up and dragged you somewhere secluded to "teach you a lesson".

Tears swell up your eyes, making your vision go blurry. Your other hand was pushing his head away and attempting to stop him from diving into your cunt and eating it like there was no tomorrow.

"Stop," Charles hissed, grabbing both your wrist and pinning it above your head—restricting your movements.

"What did i tell you about talking to others?"

You gulped down the lump in your throat and shook your head. "I am sorry, mon amour" your eyes pleading for him to stop.

Charles scoffed, gripping your jaw tightly. "espèce de salope (you slut), you just want everyone's attention, don't you?"

"Charlie, no, it's not like that," you begged, your voice shaking as his grip on your jaw tightened.

"Oh, I'll give you attention alright, Chienne (bitch)," he cussed, his accent making his aura more frightening.

...

You lay emotionless on the table, tears falling down your face—your clothes on the ground, your hair a mess, and your body filled with his markings.

In the corner of the room, Charles was fixing his clothes. Acting as if nothing had happened.

He then went over to you and pulled your body towards him, crassing your hair and kissing your temple. "Je t'aime tellement mon amour."

...

Should i make a part 2?? Btw hope you like this idk if i did it okay i just wanted to write again and like always my request are open!!

997 notes · View notes

band--psycho · 23 days ago

Text

Poly!141 x Reader - Stop The Wedding (Part 4)

Thank you all so much for the love you're giving this story! It honestly means so much to me! 💛

I hope you all enjoy this part 💛

Please be kind, reblogs are always welcome and greatly appreciated! Thank you for all the continued support 💛

Requests are open so if you have any ideas/requests, you're more than welcome to send them over (thank you to everyone who's requested a story so far, I'm working my way through them!)

I do not give permission for any of my works to be copied or translated onto this site or other platforms!

Catch up on the previous part here: Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10 / Part 11 / Part 12 / Part 13

Warnings: Feelings of hurt, betrayal, jealousy, regret, sadness and anger - nearly a physical fight between Kyle and Johnny, arguments

COD Modern Warfare Masterlist /Taskforce 141 Masterlist /Join My Taglist

Kyle stood with his arms folded across his chest, completely and utterly baffled at his partner's actions.

John had been gone most of the afternoon but came in a few minutes after Simon and Johnny had left to go food shopping.

In the captain's hands was a familiar takeaway coffee cup that Kyle recognised far too easily.

And then Johnny and Simon returned with identical takeaway coffee cups.

Now they were all sitting in front of Kyle in the living room and he felt like a teacher scolding children.

Both John and Johnny wore a solemn look on their faces; like kicked puppies.

Simon, despite his nonchalant demeanour, was also evidently sad, it was clear in his eyes, at least it was to the people present in the room.

As much as part of Kyle wanted to be sympathetic to them; he was mainly just angry and hurt.

Angry because this is exactly what he thought would happen if he went to go and see you himself. You were clearly happy. That was good. He’d meant what he said to John that morning, you deserved it, especially after the pain they put you through.

But he knew it would twist him up to see you happy about someone else.

Which is why he made quick work of distracting himself so that he didn’t think about you.

He thought the others were doing the same; but he was clearly wrong.

Which is also why he was so hurt; because now everyone except him, had seen you.

Even if they’d come back deflated, they’d at least been able to look at you one last time….

“What were you guys thinking?” Kyle questioned; the sharpness in his voice not unnoticed by the three men sitting in front of him.

“I was thinking that I wanted to see her,”Johnny replied back; his calm tone only furthering the other Sargents' irritation.

“And how exactly did that go?”

Kyle's question was rhetorical.

He knew based on the looks on his partners faces that the interaction with you had gone poorly even without any of them answering

“Well she wasn’t exactly happy with us,” Johnny answered with a frown.

“Nor me, she made my coffee wrong,” John mumbled, taking a brief sip of the drink, trying to force himself to drink the coffee, simply ecause it was made by you.

“Gave him a raspberry tea, and me something that tastes like grass,” Johnny continued, nodding over to Simon before turning his attention back to Kyle.

“Well what did you expect?” Kyle scoffed, running a hand over his face in frustration.

“We can’t let her get married,” John stated firmly; catching everyone in the room off guard.

“Ye’ve changed your tune from this mornin’,” Johnny said, unable to stop the small smile from forming on his lips, knowing that the Captain was now on his and Simon’s side.

“I just thought about it….thought about her,” Johns words trailed off as he looked at Kyle; his eyes were soft; hoping that somehow just that look alone would calm him down.

It didn’t.

“And what?”Kyle challenged,“You thought that seeing us again was going to make her cancel her wedding?”

Kyle didn’t snap at any of them often; and certainly not at John; not only was he their Captain on missions, but they also had a close bond and, most of the time the two of them had a similar thought process on things.

Apart from now.

The room fell silent at Kyle’s outburst; each man trying to work out what to say to him, to help him understand where they were coming from.

“How do you think she felt?” It was Kyle’s own voice that broke the silence; his tone was softer now but there was an undeniable fury in his eyes.

“She was clear about how she felt,” Johnny retorted back; earning a small slap on the shoulder from Simon; who was hating that they were all arguing.

It reminded him of when John had told them that he was going to have to end things with you, it caused so many arguments after you’d left.

It nearly destroyed them.

And he could see that same pain in Kyle’s eyes, this time it was at their betrayal…Simon wanted nothing more than to fix the situation within the group, but he didn’t know how to.

“You ambushed her at work!” Kyle seethed.

“Kyle, breathe,” John said; standing up to try and touch Kyle’s shoulder to help calm him down; hating how worked up he was getting.

“With respect, John, don’t tell me what to do right now,” Kyle strained, shuffling back a little, away from John's touch.

“It’s been two and a half years and you guys just popped up out of the blue to see here, like nothing happened.”

The group remained silent, allowing Kyle to continue venting his questions to them;

“Did any of you apologise to her?”

“Did any of you ask how she’d been?”

“Did any of you congratulate her on her engagement and upcoming wedding?”

“Why would we congratulate her?” Johnny countered back; rising to his feet, anger becoming evident in the Scotsman’s tone at the ludicrous words that he’d just heard.

“Because we let her go; we made our choices and now we have to live with the consequences of them,” Kyle argued back, taking a step closer to Johnny; his words reminding them all that they all agreed to the separation that broke them up, not you.

“If we see her, and that’s a big if because she’s probably going to try and avoid us as much as possible,” he continued; realising his own rage, as he stepped back away from Johnny.

He didn’t want to fight with any of them and certainly not physically.

He needed to go and calm down; to process what had happened.

“But if for some reason we do see her;” his voice was much softer now as he walked towards the door joining the living room they were all currently in, to the hallway, “we need to act like we’re not still in love with her,”

“I can’t do that,” Simon stated; finally speaking, his tone wasn’t harsh; but it was firm, as though he was stating a fact, “none of us can, not even you, Kyle.”

Kyle was nearly out of the room when he replied back with, “That’s why I didn’t go to see her.”

His reply wasn’t filled with rage; just a sadness that they all could relate too.

Before any of them could say anything else or try to comfort him, he walked out of the room completely, closing the door behind him so that he could go and calm down, before he murdered his partners for their stupidity.

Leaving John, Simon and Johnny in the room, Kyle’s words still echoing in their ears.

Tagging:

@xacatalepsyx @mermaniaa @fangirlsfandomss @book-dragon03 @bookworm1767 @sunrise-willarive @imdeadontheinside786 @asterionex @pinkyyoshi @yaradigital @euriiverse @eternallyvenus @littlejoyfulthings @s-void @rivwritesiguess @lilyalone @mrstelford @rabbittmoons @salemlovespies @amongthe141 @z-wantstowrite @sleepybarnesbby @maryrhodalouandted @uraeus56 @skipping-throughlife @echo9821 @nanamisfootrest @tribbisweetdear @backalleytimetravel @fruitymoonbeams-blog @alejandro-vargass-wife @moon-on-the-crest @lanaaameowyy @dasphinxone

212 notes · View notes

augustjoy · 5 months ago

Text

Just a little something.

Based on the following ask: I have a request that may be a little difficult for you to write, if you're up for it. I would like to request Hotch with a non-bau reader that likes to crochet in their spare time, particularly stuffed animals, and gift them to others. Jack and Hotch would obviously receive the majority of the amigurumi projects, but one day, the reader makes too many little crochet animals and persuades Hotch to take them to work and hand them out to other agents. You wouldn't have to go too into depth about the crocheting techniques if you don't think you could properly write about it; you could honestly just mention the creation period in passing and the present the finished crochet piece in the plot.

Aaron Hotchner x Fem Reader

Fluff

Word count: 841

Not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, Age gap (non-specified), established relationship with Hotch, no use of y/n, Fem reader, reader has no physical description, reader crochets, mention of Jack, mention of reader’s nieces and nephews, mention of anxiety (reader uses crocheting as an outlet) use of pet names, let me know if I missed any!

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

You had picked up crocheting back when you were in college. Then, and even now it served as an outlet to release stress and anxiety. When you had started out your projects were fairly simple, wash cloths, granny squares, simple blankets.

The beauty of this hobby was that it allowed for some beautiful handmade gifts. As time went on, you began making stuffed animals. Your sister had gifted you a book with patterns for amigurumi projects, and from then on you’d been making all sorts of little creatures.

The primary recipients of your creations had been your nieces and nephews. First it was their baby blankets, then elephants, and turtles, which turned into cows and opossums, and most recently Pokémon.

When you and Aaron started dating you’d mentioned your hobby in passing, but as things progressed in your relationship, crocheting seemed to come out a little more in you. You’d casually pull out a project while watching a movie with Aaron and Jack, you’d brought over a throw blanket for the back of the couch. You’d even gifted Aaron a scarf and some socks before he left for a case in Colorado in the dead of winter.

One night after finishing a plushie of Charmander for your nephew, Jack spoke up…soft and unsure.

“That’s really cool.” He whisper.

“Thanks bud, do you like Charmander?” You replied.

“Kinda…I don’t really play Pokémon that much.” He shrugged.

“Oh yeah, what do you like then?” You smiled.

“I like spiderman!” Jack exclaimed.

A few days later you’d showed up with a stuffed spiderman for Jack. He was over the moon and from then on, he wasn’t afraid to ask you directly for something.

He was an incredible kid, he’d patiently wait for you to complete the project, even asking you questions throughout the process.

“And what kind of stitch is that?” He’d ask.

“This one here is a half double crochet.” You answered.

“And that’s different than a single crochet?”

“Yes, for a half double, you put the yarn over and then pull it through all three loops. You see that?” You asked, holding the project up as you showed him how to do it.

That night you hopped online and ordered Jack a Woobles crochet kit so he could learn alongside you.

For as long as you’d been crocheting, people have suggested you open an Etsy shop, and you always met them with the same response; it’ll lose the serenity it currently brings me. And this is why you only make small batches for two local boutiques.

Once a month you make a few things for each shop, and you go in and drop them off. As they sell, the profits are split 60/40 between you and the shops, which gives you the money for yarn and a little extra.

In the last week, you’d made a wide variety of stuffed animals, ranging anywhere from dinosaurs and bunnies all the way to peas in a pod and cherries. You had been packing everything up to get ready to deliver them.

“Hey sweetheart.” Aaron called as you entered the apartment.

“Hi honey.” You set your tote bin down and made your way to the kitchen.

“How were the deliveries?” He asked, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“They were good! I actually came home with a few things. With the Holidays just ending, one of the shops still had a few items and so they didn’t need their usual stock.” You explained.

“Oh, well now you’ll have some for next time?” He offered.

“You know, next time it’ll be Easter themed stuff…chicks and bunnies. What if you took some of these in for the BAU?” You suggested. “I can wrap one up for each of them and you can leave them on their desks for me.”

“I’m not sure…”

“Oh, please Aaron! Think of it as a late Christmas gift from me! I’ll even write them notes so they know it’s from me!”

“Sweethe-”

“Please!” You begged.

“Okay sweetheart. Whatever you want.” Aaron pressed a kiss to your forehead.

The next morning Aaron arrived at work even earlier than usual, that way he could place the brightly colored bags on everyone’s desks prior to their arrival. You had selected a specific plush for each person, even pulling from some other projects you had stored for an event you’d be participating in.

One by one, each member of the BAU arrived, quickly taking note of the giftbags on each desk. They shared confused glances and shrugged before Aaron stepped out of his office.

“There should be a note in each bag. Feel free to open them and enjoy.” He said, returning to his office.

Aaron smiled gently, toying with the crocheted whale shark you snuck into his bag. You always said he, like whale sharks frightened people, due to preconceived notions derived from fear, but in all actuality, they were gentle creatures.

Aaron’s smile only grew as he heard Garcia squeal with joy over the soft unicorn you’d gifted her.

322 notes · View notes

cloudeulogy · 2 months ago

Text

just stop your crying, it’s a sign of the times.

hyunjin x reader; smau + prose (o.6k).

( 💭 ) — days can be hard. even more when the shoulder you usually cry on is in another continent.

( 🌼 ) — ANGST!! lots of tears!! everyone is crying!! implied crushing/burning out, hyunjin is just a great bf and i feel lonely af now.

the call rings once, then you immediately answer.

as he pops up on your screen tears slip from your eyes right on your clothes, leaving another spot of already so plenty on your pants.

you wash away the traces from your cheeks with a sleeve (of his jumper), already partially drenched.

“are you sure you are not busy?” you ask, worried about messing up his tight and packed schedule.

“what’s wrong?” he ignores your question, his tone higher than usual, clearly worried.

you catch your breathing, trying to recall all that went wrong during the past ten hours or so, but the distress immediately arises.

“i’m just having a bad day” you mutter, trying to quieten your sobbing.

“what happened?” you open your mouth to answer, but your breathing is so unsteady that you find no air left to talk with, “baby, it’s ok, please breathe”.

and you do. you inhale violently, trying to overcome the stiffness of your chest.

“slowly in” he instructs you, “and slowly out”. with all your remaining strength you try to focus to stabilise the rhythm.

even thousands of kilometres away, he’s still undoubtedly by your side, holding your hand.

“just like this, baby, you are doing so good” he comforts you. but in reality you are not, just the word makes your eyes itch again.

but under his guidance and in all your almighty stubbornness, you inhale and exhale again. and again. and again. until your breathing allows you to speak.

“it just hurts so much sometimes and no one ever told me it could get this bad” you explain, your voice still shaken.

even with your eyes full of tears, blurring your vision, you can still see the distressed painted on hyunjin’s face. he looks also on the verge of crying. maybe he already was.

“sometimes i miss you so much that i feel like i’m exploding” you take a deep breath (“in and out, yes, just like this”) and wipe away the few tears left, “like i have so much love for you and i can’t store it anymore inside of me because there is no space left and it’s pushing me out of my own skin”.

“baby, please” his voice cracks, “i’m so sorry”.

“it’s not your fault” you quickly add, “and i’m really glad that i love you”.

“but sometimes it just hurts so bad and i just wish that-“ but the end of the sentence goes unsaid, because you don’t know what you want, what could cure this emptiness — aside from him.

“that you loved me a little less?” he tries to suggest. you shake your head, with fervour.

his eyes are glossy just as much as yours, even though yours are scored by the broken capillaries of your iris.

he dries away his tears before they can even stain his face.

“loving you is the best think that ever happened to me, hyune, don’t ever think that i would want that”. you suppress another sob, caused by the nightmare scenario of a life without the enrichment of his presence. you quickly cast it away and lock it up behind closed doors, to which you throw away the key.

a single tear escapes his strict surveillance.

“why are you so pretty when you cry? i look like a red frog” you joke, seeking a livelier atmosphere. he laughs lightly, his heart still stuck in his throat, and you feel like crying all over again, but for very different reasons.

when did i get so lucky.

“i love you too, love” he simply adds. and to you there is nothing left to say. however, your tears don’t seem to wanting to stop. but that’s fine, not all tears are bound to be sad.

#*mine #*mine.skz #*mine.hyunjin #stray kids x reader #hwang hyunjin x reader #stray kids #skz x reader #skz #stray kids smau #stray kids fake texts #smau #fake texts #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin angst #angst #hyunjin

180 notes · View notes

circeyoru · 5 months ago

Text

Other Other World

[Solo Leveling x Homicipher MC!Reader - Crossover]

Idea 1 (here) Idea 2: {Twisted Killings} As the dark side of the Hunters Association

Where is this?? Was your first thought when you exit the elevator. You were in a deserted school building with a number of students dressed in identical uniforms of male and female genders, but wasn’t a pattern that you recognized. You looked out the window, not even recognizing the place and you’re very very familiar with your neighbourhood playground for certain activities.

Since it was raining outside, you gripped tightly on the handle of the red umbrella and repeatedly hit it on the wall. “ሠⶴቹዪቹ ሠቹ? ሠⶴቹዪቹ ፕⶴጎነ?! (translate: Where we? Where this?!)”

“ክዐፕ ኡክዐሠ. ክዐፕ ኡክዐሠ. (translate: Not know. Not know.)” A tall and thin man in red from head to toe appeared with a twisted smile on his face.

“Useless!” You exclaimed, you stabbed the tip of the umbrella into one of the bodies laying on the ground. Looking around, it was odd how there were corpses all around you and blood splatters were painted all over the walls. “Is this another dumping ground?”

Just as you were thinking, a giant green body fell to your side. You looked down and saw its head bashed into the ground, but it was certainly not dead since it was still twitching and fighting the pale arm that was holding it in place. You glanced up and noticed the familiar figure cloaked in a dirty black kimono.

“ጋልክፏቹዪ. ኡጎረረ. ሃዐ፱. ነልቻቹ? (translate: Danger. Kill. You. Safe?)” The pale man with his eyes covered by his long hair asked you, his entire form was on top of the green monster.

“Mr. Crawling.” You smiled and nodded, “ነልቻቹ. ክዐ ሠዐዪዪሃ. (translate: Safe. No worry.)”

Without another word, you took out your crowbar and impaled it into the neck of the monster. When it wouldn’t go the whole way, you leaned your entire body into it until it decapitated the head. The three of you watched it roll off before it stopped. Huh, reminds me of Mr. Chopped.

“ጮዐዪቹ. ፱የ. (translate: More. Up.)” Mr. Crawling pointed upwards.

You hummed and had a thought, “ሃዐ፱ ፕሠዐ ⶴ፱ክፏዪሃ? (translate: You two hungry?)”

Their smiles spread wider at your question. You didn’t need their answer to know that they were excited about what you had in mind. So you had Mr. Crawling brought the green monster’s corpse back to Mr. Silver so the mad doctor could do what he does best and prepare for a meal, while you and Mr. Scarletella went on for some more hunting.

As you made your way higher into the school building, it became apparent that it wasn’t a dumping ground used by some killer, nor was it abandoned in the first place. There were more green monsters around and you had taken care of them with the stupid, delusional and obsessive red umbrella man. As much as you hated the guy or ghost, you can’t deny that he wasn’t useless.

You also found out that you were in a different country from the Korean textbooks scattered around and the Korean words you read. Luckily, you knew Korean and could communicate. What was left was what happened to this school and why there were green monsters roaming around. Based on what you learned around the Other World, the entities there all have unique characteristics and no two entities are alike or the same. So this place wasn’t the Other World you were familiar with.

Mr. Scarletella chuckled, “ኡጎረረ. ጋልፕቹ. ፕዐፏቹፕⶴቹዪ. (translate: Kill. Date. Together.)”

“Shut it before I kill you next.” You raised your crowbar at him.

You heard some chanting and tilted your head in that direction. From the slight shaking, you deduced there was quite the number of them near you two. You glanced down at another monster you killed, it was getting harder and harder to do damage since they were much bigger than your stature, plus you were getting tired even with your ghostly companions.

“We have enough for a feast…” You muttered, you put away your crowbar and opened the red umbrella to shield over your form even though you’re indoors. You could feel Mr. Scarletella hovering behind you, his back arching down so that he was under the umbrella as well, staying close to you but never touching. “Let’s join the party. Cover me.”

“ነጮቹረረ ፪ረዐዐጋ. ⶴ፱ጮልክነ ፕⶴቹዪቹ. (translate: Smell blood. Humans there.)” He spoke with chuckles and giggles. Well, given that he was even more so twisted than you are, you don’t see the issue.

Mr. Scarletella’s distortion over space hid you from the crowd of green monsters. Easily, the two of you slipped into the classroom where a small group of students were standing by the windows, all shaking in fear. Though your attention was on the three similar monsters that were red in colour now, they regenerated even after they were cut down and stood protecting one particular girl.

Just as you thought you could stand watching the show, the monster seemed to have figured out the trick of the three red ones’ regeneration and swiftly immobilized them. One aimed for the girl and you dashed in front, pointing the open umbrella at the monster’s outreached open palm so that the tip would pierce right into the center of its palm.

Its screams of agony brought a smile to your face that you pushed the girl behind you to join the gawking group. It reached the other hand at you while you returned the umbrella and closed it to smack it away in a fluid motion. You didn’t register fully what the students behind you were gossiping about, something about awakening and Hunters. You didn’t care at the moment, because you could just slaughter the beast. It looked human enough, so that was fine.

However, before you could have your fun, a cloak covered your view and you heard painful screams from the monster once more. Your hands frantically moved the cloth away, knowing who it was. “Mr. Hood! Stop that!” When your vision was back, Mr. Hood’s giant executioner’s axe had already sliced the monster in half and Mr. Crawling was in front of you standing guard. “Ah geez…”

A loud roaring screech echoed outside the building, making everyone freeze in alarm. You were immediately brought to the side by Mr. Hood and covered with his large cloak. Even the monsters were backing away from the center of the room, but they were too late as the floor rumbled from the impact of something landing from the outside. Dust clouding the room and coughing was heard by the students who had no cover.

You stayed under Mr. Hood’s cloak, your hand gripping on your crowbar in case it was another enemy to kill. But your grip weakened when you heard a soft voice of comfort. “You’re safe now.”

Your hand carefully shifted the piece of cloth to give you view of the outside. Part of the classroom was destroyed and the rain pitter-pattered in, clearing the debris and dust quickly. There was a giant blue and black dragon nested at the make-shift opening. Then there was a lone figure standing in front of the girl you protected before.

His aura was murderous and chaotic, yet he appeared so calm and controlled. As if any sudden movements would make him snap and everyone there would be dead. Your killer instinct told you that you’d never want to be that man’s enemy. You momentarily wondered if Mr. Scarlettella and Mr. Crawling had disappeared from sight since Mr. Hood was here already.

You closed your eyes and remained in Mr. Hood’s makeshift hiding spot, as long as Mr. Hood and you don’t pose a threat, that man would only focus on those green monsters and you two could slip away. You heard the man arranging the evacuation and the other students were more than happy to oblige.

“Wait! There’s still someone left!” That girl’s voice urged, you guessed her footsteps came over to you but stopped a distance away. After all, Mr. Hood was definitely still holding his axe on guard. “That person inside protected us before you came, Oppa!”

“Person?” The man asked.

You left Mr. Hood shift, his hidden arm wrapped around you securely. You patted his arm to reassure him before you moved the cloak to show yourself. With the man being something akin to a ticking timebomb, you didn’t want to risk anything before you could find a way to return to where you were. “Hi.”

“Are you a Hunter? Is that your Summon?” The man asked. “Did you just awaken?”

You had no idea what was a Hunter nor a Summon, hell, what even is an awaken?! So you just did the most innocent and ‘I have no idea what’s happening’ face you could. “It just appeared when I’m in danger.” It wasn’t a lie. They do have that protective streak. Though, the fact that only one was being referred to meant the other two were safely gone from the scene.

“Evaculate with my sister.” The man basically ordered.

“Yup! Sure!” You came out of Mr. Hood’s cloak and gave him the signal to disappear. You didn’t want any trouble. You followed the girl and went down from the wing of the dragon you saw. When you were safely on the ground, you opened your red umbrella and Mr. Scarlettella was there by your side. You snuck away from the scene and made your escape into the crowd with Mr. Crawling leading you into alleyways.

Manhwa Scenes: Chapter 116-119 (Dungeon break at Jinah’s school)

Note: To those that have no idea what Homicipher is. It’s a horror romance game with a female MC that’s a serial killer and ended up going to the ghost realm called Other World. There’s a language barrier and the aim of MC is to find a way home. You can search it up, I believe the demo is free, but the game is paid on some gaming platform. I myself didn’t play it but watched gameplay and LOVE Mr. Crawling.

Anyways, this is just a small dabble I wanna do, nothing serious. Not like I'm switching fandoms and stuff. Still doing Solo Leveling fics. (though I will be uploading something tomorrow, maybe a series continuation~ since this one is short~~ shh)

𝕮𝖎𝖗𝖈𝖊 𝖄.

My Works: MASTERLIST

Taglist: @rozuburedo

#Circe's Nighty Writings #Other Other World #Solo Leveling #Only I Can Level Up #solo leveling x reader #solo leveling jinwoo #sung jin woo x reader #sung jinwoo x reader #sung jinwoo #sung jinwoo x you #jinwoo #homicipher #homicipher x reader #homicipher mc #homicipher game #mr crawling #mr scarletella #mr hood #mr silvair

386 notes · View notes

ramp-it-up · 17 days ago

Text

Muse: The Cleo Era

Muse: Epilogue | Muse Masterlist

Summary: You and Ari will be parents. Here's the first part of the journey.

Pairing: Art Curator! Ari Levinson x Plus sized model!Reader

A/N: Y'all are getting this Muse Monday on a Tuesday this week. lol. This is in answer to these asks and I got deep so this is just the first part of Muse and Ari as parents. This is it! I already have another ask (thanks, Nonnie) so there will be more. Thank you to those of you who just get these two like I do. You know my heart. 🥹 Muse has been a series of one shots featuring Muse and Ari, and this is it. 🥲 This AU is the nexus, not only connected to the Peach and Knock You Down verses, but also the Minx verse. I love reblogs, replies, asks and likes. Let me have it! :)

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. SMUT! Read at your own risk; curate your own experience. Art Curator Ari. Plus sized model Reader, this fic focuses on pregnancy, and all that comes with it, birth, and the period after birth. A marriage. Mothers and mothers in law. Frumoasa and Peach and their children! Also, pregnancy cravings, pregnancy sex, body insecurity, pregnancy kink, Ari is obsessed, lots of oral (f receiving), SIZE KINK, tit worship, raw p in v.

I don’t have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post!

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

---------

You didn’t notice at first.

Not with the whirlwind of the wedding and reception behind you, the press requests piling up, and the fall issue of Muse turning into a logistical beast.

Not to mention Ari bouncing between MoMA and Red Sea like he had clones.

You were both deliriously happy and utterly exhausted, too distracted to count days.

And too busy to notice your period hadn’t come.

It wasn’t until a shoot at the botanical garden, when the smell of roses made you nauseous and the heat left you dizzy, that it hit you.

You were late.

Really late.

You tried to brush it off.

Stress. Fatigue.

But the next morning, gagging over your toothpaste, you knew.

You didn’t say anything to Ari.

You threw a hoodie over your pajamas, bought a test from the bodega, and locked yourself in the bathroom at 6:30 a.m. while he slept.

The wait was short.

Two pink lines. Immediately, no question.

You sat on the edge of the tub, staring at it like it might blink first.

You were pregnant. Actually pregnant. Six, maybe seven weeks if the math in your head was right.

It may have even happened after the reception when you whispered that you went off the pill into your husband’s ear and he made good on every sacred filthy promise he’d made in response.

You had made her. Or him. Together.

Your eyes welled up. Your stomach turned again, but you smiled through it.

The floor creaked outside the door.

“Muse?” Ari’s voice was sleepy. “You okay?”

You opened the door slowly, test clutched in your hand. Ari blinked at you, shirtless, hair messy, and pajama pants low on his hips.

“What’s that?”

He stared at the stick. And then, like someone flipped a switch behind his eyes, he understood.

“You’re serious?” he asked, voice cracking.

You nodded.

“I think it happened the night of the reception. Maybe the elevator. Maybe the counter. Possibly the bed.”

A beat, then he laughed.

That laugh.

Full of disbelief and awe and all the things he couldn’t say fast enough.

He pulled you into his arms so hard you squeaked, then dropped to his knees, pressing his forehead to your stomach like he’d been waiting his whole life for this exact second.

“We made a person,” he whispered. “A fucking person. On purpose.”

You laughed, threading your fingers through his hair.

“I probably should’ve realized sooner. I thought I was just tired.”

“You’re growing a human,” he said, kissing your belly.

“Of course you’re tired.”

“Hi, baby,” he murmured. “I hope you are just like your mom. Beautiful, strong as hell and full of attitude.”

You rolled your eyes, brushing a tear from your cheek.

“This baby is going to own you.”

—

Three days later, Ari found you in the kitchen, standing in front of the open fridge like it had insulted your honor.

“You look like you’re about to fight someone,” he said carefully.

“There’s no fruit,” you said flatly.

A beat.

“There’s literally so much fruit,” he replied, opening the fridge like he needed to double-check.

You pointed dramatically.

“There are apples. Strawberries. Grapes. But no peaches. I want a peach, Ari. I want a cold, juicy, stupidly ripe peach and there are NONE.”

He blinked. And then, he moved, no hesitation. Just grabbed his keys, his wallet, and kissed your forehead.

“I’ll be back in fifteen,” he murmured, already halfway out the door.

When he returned, he had two brown paper bags and a look that screamed husband of the year.

“There were no fresh peaches at Whole Foods. So I hit up the bodega, then the farmer’s market on 12th.”

He laid out the goods like sacred offerings: yellow peaches, white peaches, canned in syrup, peach nectar, dried peaches.

You blinked. Then burst into tears.

“Oh my god. Who does that?

He pulled you into his chest.

“Husbands of hormonal goddesses,” he whispered, kissing the top of your head.

“Eat, baby. I got you.”

You ate three in a row over the sink, moaning through every bite.

Ari watched you like you were an art exhibit.

“I’ve never been more attracted to you,” he muttered.

You licked juice off your wrist, cheeks flushed, eyes glinting.

“Oh? You like the feral fruit goblin look?”

“I like the pregnant-with-my-baby look,” he said. “A lot.”

When you were done eating, Ari carried you to the shower and made love to you slowly, reverently, the scent of peaches still clinging to your skin.

——

At eight weeks, your skin broke out and your favorite perfume made you gag. The smell of espresso turned your stomach, a personal betrayal. You were bloated, irritable, exhausted, and more in love with Ari than ever.

When you cried over a dropped croissant, Ari didn’t laugh.

He just held you and whispered, “I’ve got you,” before coming back with four more.

He quietly took over your calendar and showed up to every OB appointment like it was a gala. At your first ultrasound, he didn’t blink, just stared at the grainy little smudge on the screen like it was the only thing that had ever mattered.

“That’s ours,” he whispered, awestruck.

You were bone-deep tired. Sex was still good, just less frequent. That didn’t stop Ari from pressing his mouth to your neck every night and whispering that you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

Then, around nine weeks, came a new craving.

You stood in front of the mirror in nothing but a bralette and the softest boyshorts, staring at your body like it belonged to someone else. Your belly hadn’t changed much, but your breasts were heavier, sore, almost unfairly full.

Your skin felt like it was buzzing. Not itchy. Not uncomfortable.

Just…strange.

You as Ari stood in the doorway, eyes dropping, then widening at the vision of you.

He closed the door behind him, already crossing the room.

“You okay?”

“No,” you whispered. “I think I’m losing my mind.”

He raised a brow, cautiously playful.

“That bad, huh?”

You reached for him, grabbing his shirt.

“It’s like, my skin’s too tight. Everything aches. But not in a bad way. I just…”

You leaned into him, mouth at his neck.

“I need something. I need…you.”

His breath hitched.

“You sure?”

You nodded, already pressing kisses under his jaw.

“I’m climbing the walls, Ari. I’ve been thinking about it all day. About you. Your mouth. Your hands. Your cock.”

A low growl rumbled from his chest.

“That’s a dangerous way to talk to your husband, sweetheart.”

“It’s the only way I know how to talk to you right now,” you panted. “I want you to fuck me.”

“Jesus,” he muttered, voice darkening instantly. “Come here.”

He didn’t make it to the bed. He backed you against the dresser, yanked your panties down, and kissed a path to your chest, pulling one aching nipple into his mouth.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” you gasped, hips canting forward. “I need it. Need you.”

He didn’t tease. Didn’t waste time. Just dropped to his knees and buried his face between your thighs, licking you like he’d missed it, even though he hadn’t. His tongue was hot and sure, curling deep, circling your clit until you were shaking, one hand in his hair and the other braced on the dresser.

You came with a gasp, loudly, thighs trembling around his ears.

“Don’t stop,” you begged. “Need you inside me.”

Ari stood and kissed you hard, then turned you around and bent you gently over the dresser, one large hand splayed on your lower back, the other stroking himself behind you.

“I love when you get like this,” he groaned. “Desperate. Greedy. So fucking hot.”

You felt the wide head of his cock press against your soaked entrance and pushed back, moaning as he slid into you slowly, fully, and deeply.

“Fuck. Tight,” he hissed. “You feel different. Even hotter. Damn.”

“Don’t stop,” you gasped. “Harder.”

And he did. He gave it to you deep, slow, and then fast and filthy, one hand gripping your hip, the other reaching around to rub your clit just the way you liked.

You came again before he did, your body clenching hard around him, milking him until he spilled inside you with a groan and a whispered “God, I love you.”

“They’re going to be wild,” you mumbled, still breathless.

“They’re going to be ours,” Ari whispered, kissing your spine.

He carried you to bed and tucked you against his chest, and whispered soft things into your hair until you melted. You thought he’d sleep. But when you stirred he shifted beside you.

“You awake?” he murmured, voice rumbling against your cheek.

“Mmm… kinda. What time is it?”

“Late enough,” he said. “You hungry?”

“For food or for sex?”

He laughed softly.

“You up for round two?”

You tilted your face up toward him. He was already looking at you like he couldn’t believe his luck. Like every time he saw you, it hit him all over again.

You smiled.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

He rolled you onto your back.

“You’re glowing already,” he murmured, dragging his mouth over you. “Like your body knows it’s doing something holy.”

“You’re obsessed,” you breathed as your fingers threaded through his hair.

“I am,” he whispered, kissing your belly. “You’re carrying my baby. Of course I’m obsessed.”

You felt yourself throb with the sound of his voice alone, and he slid between your legs, kissing the inside of your thigh.

“But I’m not just obsessed with this,” he said, his mouth hovering over your pussy.

“I’m obsessed with you. With how you taste, how you sound, how you fall apart when I…”

You gasped as he licked a long, slow stripe up your center.

“...do that.”

Your fingers gripped the sheets.

He licked you again. And again. He was both filthy and reverent. His tongue teased your clit, circled it, sucked softly before pulling back to kiss your hip. You moaned, already close, your thighs trembling around his head.

He didn’t stop, sliding one finger inside you, and curling it just right, while his mouth stayed latched to your clit. He worked you slowly, building the pressure until you were whimpering his name, eyes glassy, voice ragged.

“Ari! I’m gonna…”

“Let go,” he rasped against your skin. “Let me take care of my wife.”

That did it. You came hard, with a cry that echoed off the walls, your hips jerking up as your body clenched around his hand. He didn’t stop until your legs shook and your voice gave out.

Then, he kissed his way back up your body, murmuring between every kiss.

“So good for me. So fucking sweet. I’ll never get enough.”

When you kissed him, you wrapped your legs around his waist, and he sank into you in one deep, slow thrust.

This time was different. This was languid, molten, and deliberate.

“I love you,” he whispered, forehead pressed to yours.

“I love you,” you breathed back, clinging to him.

He came with a low moan, buried deep inside you.

You didn’t know how long you lay like that, wrapped up in him, warm and safe, heart racing in sync.

But you knew one thing.

You’d never been loved like this.

—-

By week 14, the nausea lifted like fog.

Your first real meal in days was Greek yogurt with honey, pistachios, and two-and-a-half nectarines. You sat at the table and sobbed through the entire thing. Ari sat beside you with a spoon in hand, feeding you bites like you were royalty.

He bought a crate of nectarines the next day.

Your skin became ethereal.

Your energy returned.

And the sex was outstanding.

By week 17, your bump started to show.

Ari stared while you brushed your teeth, then dropped to his knees and kissed your belly like it was sacred.

He spent the entire week painting one wall of the nursery, over and over, until it was the right shade of “sunlight through fog.”

At twenty weeks, the anatomy scan made everything real. The tech said she was healthy and “active.”

You watched her squirm on the screen and felt a flutter so soft you almost missed it. Ari sketched your face.

He’d started again after hearing Steve was an artist. He hadn’t done it since college. He said he never wanted to forget how you looked when you realized she was real.

Your dreams got weird. Gold-leafed babies, talking dolphins, a house made of socks. You mumbled them into Ari’s neck at 3 a.m., and he wrote them in a notebook by the bed.

One night, after a dream where the baby was late to a Vogue shoot, he rubbed your back and whispered, “She gets that from you.”

Your hips ached and your cravings changed weekly. One week, it was grilled cheese at 2 a.m., every night. The next, sour cherry popsicles. You ate one topless on the balcony and Ari almost dropped his drink.

The third trimester arrived and you couldn’t see your feet. Your ankles swelled if you stood too long and you wore Ari’s T-shirts inside out almost exclusively.

The baby kicked with force now, especially when Ari read aloud, which he did every night. She kicked hardest when he read Toni Morrison.

You swore she was trying to communicate.

Modeling stopped, but Muse didn’t. You ruled from a throne of pillows, compression socks, and croissants. Ari brought smoothies, kissed your belly, and whispered to the baby like she could answer.

The nesting hit like a fever.

You cleaned out the coat closet at 2 a.m. one night and reorganized every spice alphabetically. Ari didn’t stop you, just brought a chair when your back hurt.

You bought two bassinets, five swaddles, and an antique wooden sheep that cost more than your first car.

When Ari asked why, you said, “She’ll know it’s art.”

At thirty-six weeks, you only slept in short bursts because the pressure in your hips was brutal. You got Braxton Hicks, which you thought were real one night.

Ari threw the hospital bag in the car. Turned out it was nothing. He didn’t sleep for two days just in case.

You woke up crying one night after a dream where the baby looked up at you and said, “Thank you.”

Ari cried with you, then spooned you until sunrise.

At 39 weeks, you stopped wearing waistbands. You waddled and peed constantly yet Ari couldn’t stop touching you.

He whispered into your shoulder every night, “We’re so close.”

Your due date came and went; she didn’t. Until one morning, forty weeks and one day, you woke just after 3 a.m.

At first, you thought it was a dream. Then you shifted and felt it: a wet warmth soaking into the sheets. A slow, low cramp stole your breath as you gasped, sat up, and touched your belly.

Ari bolted upright beside you.

“Was that…?”

You nodded. Grinning. Eyes wide.

“It’s time.”

—---

The contractions started slowly; they were manageable.

You even joked through the first couple, sitting on a towel in the passenger seat while Ari broke the speed limit down the West Side Highway at four in the morning.

Ari was not calm. He kept glancing at you like you might break open in the front seat.

“You okay?” he kept asking.

“Yeah,” you breathed. “I think so.”

“You sure it’s not Braxton Hicks again?”

You glared.

“That was one time.”

“I still haven’t recovered.”

You huffed a laugh just as another wave slammed into you. You moaned and clutched the edge of the seat.

Ari reached over blindly, offering his hand without taking his eyes off the road.

You squeezed. And he didn’t flinch. He never did with you.

At the hospital, walking took effort. You paused every few steps, panting. Ari let you brace against him, murmuring, “I’ve got you,” over and over like a mantra.

Inside, everything blurred. Monitors. Nurses. Antiseptic. Wristbands. The contractions sharpened. Ari stayed right there, one hand in yours, the other brushing sweat from your brow.

Twelve hours in, things got real.

You were dilated enough to scream but not enough to push. Your back felt like it was splitting. Your stomach twisted with every wave.

Your eyes welled with tears and you weren’t sure if it was pain or fear or hormones.

“Fuck,” you gasped. “I can’t…”

“Yes, you can,” Ari whispered.

You shook your head.

“She’s never coming out. She’s going to live in there forever. I’m going to be the first woman to carry a full-grown adult.”

“She’ll be gorgeous,” Ari said softly. “But Baby, she’s coming. You’re doing so well. You’re strong. You’re already her whole world.”

Another contraction rolled through you like a storm. You screamed and gripped his shirt so hard the seams popped.

“I hate you!” you cried.

He nodded solemnly. “That’s fair.”

“I mean it.”

“Absolutely.”

“Don’t touch me.”

“Copy that.”

You leaned into his chest and sobbed.

“I’m so scared.”

His hands cradled your face.

“I know,” he whispered. “But I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

At sixteen hours, everything shifted. You dilated. They called the doctor. The nurse raised the bed. The lights got brighter.

And suddenly, it was time.

You were drenched in sweat. Crying without realizing it, and gripping Ari’s hand like a lifeline.

“You’ve got this, Muse,” he said, voice low and steady, even as his own eyes glistened. “Bring her home.”

The doctor’s voice cut through the noise.

“Next contraction, push,” the doctor said.

You nodded, jaw clenched, legs trembling.

And you pushed. Until your throat was raw. Until you saw stars.

And then, you heard her.

A sharp, keening cry. One that broke your heart and healed it at the same time.

You collapsed against the pillows, laughing and sobbing as the world tilted.

And then there she was, tiny and screaming her arrival.

Ari cut the cord with trembling hands. You watched him through tears as they placed her on your chest. Skin to skin. Warm and fragile and real. She blinked up at you, impossibly new. Lips parted. Fists curled. Her little chest was pumping.

You stared down at her and whispered, “Hey.”

She made a soft, searching sound and Ari sank to his knees beside you, head pressed to your shoulder. He was crying openly now.

“You did it,” he whispered. “You brought her home.”

“She’s perfect.”

“She’s ours.”

And for one long, breathless moment, the world disappeared.

—--

The room was quiet, lights dimmed, and the soft beep of the monitor the only sound. You ached in every limb, but your arms were full of everything that mattered.

She lay against your chest, skin to skin under a blanket, mouth parted in a perfect pout as she suckled in her sleep. Her heartbeat fluttered against you, fast and rabbit-quick.

Ari sat halfway on the bed, one hand tracing her spine, the other resting on your thigh like he couldn’t stop touching both of you at once.

“She smells like some kind of heaven,” he murmured.

You smiled faintly, dizzy with exhaustion and love.

“You’re just high on pheromones and baby shampoo.”

His smile flickered, eyes never leaving her.

“I don’t think I’ve ever believed in God until right now.”

A nurse stepped in to check vitals, and Ari gently lifted her from your chest. She curled into him instinctively, as if she’d always known the shape of his arms.

You watched him.

Big, strong hands holding her so gently, voice softer than you’d ever heard it. His whole body curved around her like a fortress.

The nurse smiled as she left.

“That one’s wrapped,” she said, nodding toward Ari.

You nodded too, your eyes misting.

—-

You hadn’t officially told anyone her name. Not even the nurses.

Not even your mother.

The hospital placard on the little bassinet beside your bed still read blank beside F: 6lb 7oz” and “June 21st, 8:32 PM.

Ari had insisted on waiting.

“It should come from you,” he said, fingers brushing the IV line taped to your hand.

“You carried her. You fought for her. You get to say it first.”

You looked at the bassinet, where she slept swaddled, lashes impossibly long, nose like a button. Then back at him.

“Are you sure?”

“Say it.”

So you did. You whispered the name you’d once typed half-asleep into a shared notes file, inspired by a shoot in Morocco and a poem tucked into a forgotten book.

Cleo Noor Levinson

Ari closed his eyes like it was a spell. Cleo, one of the nine Muses, and Noor, meaning light.

Ari closed his eyes like he’d been waiting to hear it his whole life. Cleo, one of the nine muses. Noor, meaning light.

He leaned in and kissed your temple. “I knew that would be it.”

“You did?”

He rose, picked up the dry-erase marker, and wrote it on the placard with the focus of a man signing a masterpiece.

And just like that, she had a name.

—--

Ari took leave the moment you were discharged.

No emails. No delegation. Just a single call to the board and a quiet, “I’ll be off for the foreseeable future.”

The man who once ran international exhibits down to the minute now lived in newborn rhythms, feedings, cries, the rise and fall of her breath against his chest.

“I’ve already got the only masterpiece I need,” he said one night, her tiny form tucked inside his hoodie.

You weren’t alone for a second.

Your mother arrived first with a suitcase and surgical efficiency. She reorganized your freezer, folded onesies, made gumbo, and commented on your curtains.

Ari’s mother followed, bearing folk remedies and weepy prayers. She sobbed the first time she held the baby, then tucked hand-knit booties under the bassinet like protective charms.

Trixie, your editor, breezed in wearing a leather trench and designer sunglasses, holding a tray of gourmet lactation cookies.

“I don’t know what your hormones are doing, babe, but if we shoot the maternity line in August, I’ll cry.”

You hadn’t slept in 48 hours. There was milk in your hair.

But you nodded, dazed, and said, “Sure.”

When Peach showed up, the door swung open with the wind, her four-month-old baby boy strapped to her chest, a pack of diapers under one arm and a bottle of prosecco under the other.

“You had a baby! I had a baby! Let’s compare battle wounds,” she cheered, already halfway in.

Peach’s baby, Kit Rogers, drooled into her blouse while she handed you nipple balm and kissed your cheek.

“This one spits up like he’s in a frat. Need help latching? I’ve got techniques.”

You blinked. “I’m…okay?”

“Let me know when you’re not.”

Then came Mrs. Barnes, glowing and exhausted, her two-year-old Luca trailing behind her, sticky-handed and singing a made-up song about blueberries. She was seven months pregnant again and still the most effortlessly elegant person in any room.

“I brought muffins,” she said. “And my toddler, who may try to feed your baby a raisin. Good luck.”

Within minutes, your apartment was full of babies, strollers, toys, lactation snacks, and the low-grade chaos of maternal love.

Then came the newborn photo shoot. It was Trixie’s idea, but Ari made it perfect.

“You’ll want to remember this,” he said as he helped you oil your skin and slip into a soft robe.

The photographer, a quiet friend, barely spoke. The windows were wide open. Morning light poured in.

Ari was bare chested and impossibly handsome, the kind of man you still couldn’t believe was yours.

You held Cleo in your arms, skin to skin, her curls damp and soft against your chest. Ari stood behind you, arms wrapped around both of you, his face at your temple, his body shielding yours.

At one point, he took her into his arms and you watched through the lens as he kissed her tiny forehead, the barest whisper of breath against her soft abundance of curls.

“That’s the one,” the photographer said.

It wasn’t posed. It wasn’t perfect.

But it was love.

—--

You’d delayed your six-week postpartum visit more than once, until your mother took matters into her own hands. She was at your door when you returned from third rescheduled appointment and practically shoved you out the door as you side eyed Ari.

"You two need a night. She’ll be fine. Go," she said, already bouncing the baby with one hand and waving with the other.

You looked at Ari like you might cry. He looked back like he might carry you to the car.

Ari had booked the hotel. Just one night a short drive away with robes, white sheets, and a view of the skyline you used to chase.

You felt like cancelling, but Ari reminded you of the doctor’s words: You’re healing beautifully. You’re clear to resume sexual activity whenever you feel ready.

And you’d clutched Ari’s hand, breath caught in your throat, unsure if ready was even a thing anymore or just an abstract concept.

—-

You stood in the middle of the hotel room, unsure what to do with your hands. Ari was already kicking off his shoes, eyes trained on you.

“I can order room service,” he offered gently. “Or we can just sleep.”

You nodded, then turned to face him.

“I missed you.”

His eyes softened instantly.

“I’m right here.”

“I don’t know what to do with myself,” you admitted softly.

He stepped behind you, just close enough to warm the back of your neck with his breath.

“I do.”

He eased off your shirt, his shirt, then your nursing tank, stopping at your bra.

“May I?”

You nodded.

He eased the bra straps down your arms, unclasped it gently, and let it fall. Your breasts were full, heavier now, darker at the nipples. You didn’t dare look at him. But he let out a breath like he’d been punched.

“Goddamn,” he whispered.

You crossed your arms instinctively, but he caught your wrists and kissed each one.

“Don’t hide from me. I want to see all of you.”

When he knelt, it startled you.

You looked down at him, this man, your husband on his knees for you. He slid your leggings and underwear down, kissed your knee, your thigh, the faint silver lines at your hips.

"These are mine," he murmured. "My favorite art."

“My body’s different.”

“It’s yours.” He looked up at you.

“She grew here. Right here. This body made her. This body fed her. Carried her. Protected her.”

He pressed a kiss just below your navel.

“I worship this body,” he said. “I will never stop.”

Your throat tightened. You reached down and threaded your fingers through his hair.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m yours.”

He stood then, shedding his own clothes piece by piece as he stepped toward you, letting you take in the long line of his torso, the soft trail of hair, the muscles still carved from habit and stress and devotion.

He wasn’t trying to be seductive. He didn’t need to.

You’d never wanted anyone more in your life. But…

“I’m scared,” you whispered. “Of it hurting. Of it… not feeling the same.”

He cupped your cheek and kissed your forehead.

“Then we’ll go slow. And if it doesn’t feel good, we stop.”

You nodded.

When he guided you back to the bed,you laid down and he hovered above you, eyes drinking in every sign that your body had been through something world changing.

“You’re so damn beautiful.”

His mouth found your throat first. Then your collarbone.

He kissed the heavier swell of your breasts, then ran his tongue slowly over your nipple before closing his mouth around it, sucking just enough to make your back arch. Your fingers gripped his shoulders.

“Still so sensitive,” he hummed, moving to the other breast. “I love how you respond to me.”

Then, he went down.

He kissed every stretch mark. Every inch of softened skin. Pressed his cheek to your belly and exhaled.

“I will never get over this body.”

And then his mouth was between your legs, and you forgot how to breathe.

He licked you with slow, purposeful strokes, his thumbs parting you gently. He wasn’t trying to make you come. Not yet. He was just reacquainting himself with you, but you came anyway, overwhelmed and sobbing.

“I’m yours,” he said, again and again, against your body. “Mine. Mine. Mine.”

You reached down and wrapped your hand around his cock, hard and heavy and slick.

“Please,” you whispered. “I need you inside me.”

He froze. Then nodded. Then he braced his thick head at your entrance, and slid in slowly. You gasped, biting your lip, feeling the stretch.

Your body remembering.

Relearning.

Accommodating him again.

When he was fully inside, he stilled.

“You okay?”

You nodded, eyes wide.

“You feel so good. ‘M so full.”

He moved, just a little, and you whimpered.

“Fuck,” he groaned, forehead to yours. “So tight. You’re still made for me.”

You held him close and rocked your hips, needing more. Wanting all of it. All of him.

When he started to thrust in earnest, you clung to him, hips meeting with slow, rhythmic intensity. You weren’t quiet, and neither was he; you sobbed into his shoulder, and he grunted into your neck.

He kissed your temple and murmured, “I missed you.”

“I missed us,” you whispered back.

You came again, more gently this time, your body fluttering around him.

Ari didn’t last much longer.

He buried his face in your hair as he spilled inside you calling your name.

“I love you,” you whispered.

“I love you more now than I ever knew I could,” Ari replied.

—--

You drifted for a while. And then his hands started to explore your body again.

“Ari,” you breathed.

“I know,” he whispered, his mouth already at your neck.

“But I need you again.”

This time, he didn’t wait. He rolled you onto your stomach and slid in from behind, one arm under your chest, the other gripping your hip. You gasped, the angle sharper, the stretch deeper. The sound you made drove him wild.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he groaned against your shoulder.

“Even tighter now. Wetter.”

He thrust deeper. Rougher. Every stroke coaxing louder cries from your lips. You reached back for him, nails digging into his thigh, as he fucked you slow and deep, hips snapping with practiced rhythm. You felt every inch, every ridge, and the weight of his need to claim you again.

When he came this time, he spilled into you thickly, whispering your name so angelically. Still, he didn’t stop touching you.

The third time came later, after water, midnight room service, a shower, and quiet laughter as you lay naked on the cool sheets.

You kissed him first, straddled him and took him in slowly, inch by inch, watching his face twist in pleasure.

“Oh fuck, baby,” he rasped.

“Ride me just like that.”

You moved slowly at first. Then faster. Grinding your hips until he couldn’t stop moaning. You came, your hips shaking. He came not long after, gripping your waist, panting into your mouth.

Then it was soft again, warm.

You laid side by side in the glow of the bedside lamp, your legs tangled and your foreheads pressed together.

You whispered about the baby, about how full your heart felt, how weird your body still was, and how you’d never been more in love.

He kissed your wrist.

You touched his hair.

Then, again.

Ari kissed down your stomach and between your legs. Slid his tongue into you and made you cum. And then he fucked you while sitting up, both of you facing the window, city lights flickering against your skin.

The last time, just before dawn, was the least careful of all.

He took you up against the bathroom counter after another shower. Your thighs were wet with slick. The mirror was fogged. And you were dripping down his cock before he even thrust inside.

He grabbed your hair, murmuring filth into your ear while he moved inside you, harder this time, like he couldn’t help himself.

“You missed this too, huh?” he growled. “Missed the way I fuck you? You gonna let me fill you up again, Sweetheart?”

You moaned your answer, half incoherent, and came around him again as he filled you once more, biting your shoulder as he spilled.

You were shaking when he cleaned you up and wrapped you in a towel.

He kissed your stomach as he knelt in front of you.

“I love this body. I love you,” he said again. “Every version of you.”

You barely made it to the bed before you passed out in his arms.

—---

The next morning, you barely had time to fumble with the keys before the apartment door opened. Your mother stood there, barefoot in sweats, cradling the baby against her chest and looking smug.

“Well,” she said, one brow arched as her gaze swept over you and Ari.

“You two look like you just got back from the honeymoon you didn’t take.”

You blinked at her, stunned. Ari chuckled under his breath.

You both did look different. Hair a mess, skin flushed. Your clothes were slightly rumpled from a morning of moving slowly and two pushed back checkouts because you didn’t want to leave that hotel bed.

Your mom’s knowing grin only widened when she took you in.

“You’re welcome,” she added, handing your daughter over with a kiss on her tiny forehead.

“She slept. I didn’t.”

You melted the moment your baby was back in your arms, her little fists curled under her chin, cheeks warm against your shoulder. Ari stood behind you, pressing a kiss to both your temple and hers, his hand resting on your lower back.

“Miss us, baby girl?” he murmured.

She cooed softly, half-asleep.

You and Ari exchanged a glance, melting, again, so in love it was hopeless.

—--

The next few days found you settling into something real, something new.

Your mother stayed for two more evenings, spoiling her granddaughter and watching you both with a kind of quiet satisfaction. Then, Ari’s mother arrived, sweeping in with meals, a silk wrap, and tears the second she held her grandchild.

“It’s not even fair,” she whispered one night, rocking the baby with a smile. “She got all the best parts of both of you.”

After that, the rhythm found its footing.

Mornings became sacred, half caf coffee, nursing, Ari holding the baby over his shoulder while you stole a shower, the quiet hum of domestic life.

Nights were warm and soft and sometimes sexy again.

Not every night.

But enough.

—---

Two more weeks and then it was time to go back to work.

Ari went back to Red Sea full-time. You weren’t ready for that pace yet, not with feedings and pumping and hormones and missing her every time you blinked. So you returned part-time at Muse, easing into editorial again with Trixie at your side.

You also began interviewing nannies.

Ari insisted on being there for every interview, sharp-eyed and surprisingly open-minded. Eventually, you found two who felt right, a weekday and a weekend rotation. Not to replace you. Just to help.

Your first real modeling job came a few weeks after that. Just a short editorial campaign.

You were nervous. But when you stepped into frame, something clicked.

And when Ari arrived at the end of the shoot, the baby strapped to his chest in a soft green sling, his eyes went wide.

“Holy shit,” he muttered, watching you pose with quiet intensity. “That’s my wife.”

The photographer caught him staring, and snapped a candid of you looking down at your daughter between takes, a beam of light catching the ring on your finger.

“She’s a goddess,” Ari said to no one in particular. “That’s my whole world right there.”

He worshipped you that night.

And your daughter giggled the next morning when he kissed you before breakfast, as if she knew that even now, you were still everything he wanted.

——

Love this little family. 🥹

#muse mondays #ari levinson au #ari levinson #ari levison x reader #ari levinson x plus size!reader #ari levinson x model!reader #ari levinson smut #ari levinson x you #chris evans #ari levinson angst #chris evans characters

135 notes · View notes

moonchild9350 · 1 year ago

Text

Swipe Right for Love

Summary: You decided to take a chance at love, with the help of a dating app.

Pairing: nonidol Minho x fab reader x nonidol Jisung

Genre: smut- 18+ please MDNI

Word Count: 7k

Warnings: brief alcohol usage, oral sex (m & f receiving), fingering (m & f receiving), mention of pubic hair, anxiety (for like two seconds), p in v penetration, anal sex, creampie (wrap it up, wrap it up), mxm action, cum eating/cum swapping, i think that's it haha

Note: I love minsung omg. I'd love to swipe right on them lol. This is lightly edited so please excuse any typos. Anyhoo I hope you like it! Likes, reblogs, and comments appreciated :)

If you'd like to be added to the taglist let me know! (must have age in bio or pinned to be added)

Please do not copy, translate, modify, use, or repost this work elsewhere without my permission. ©moonchild9350 (2024)

“Find love here on Love Chat! Where millions of happy couples found love.”

You read on your phone, lost in thought, wondering if you should redownload a dating app. After being single for a while, you felt you were ready to get back into the dating game. The only problem was that you remembered how exhausting dating can be, especially in the early stages.

Tapping your fingers on your desk, you wrestled with the decision. You knew you wouldn’t be able to find anyone without a little help from an app as you were always either at work or at home, not much of a social person. However, after attending yet another friend’s engagement party, you felt that you should at least try to get back out there…you definitely weren’t getting younger.

“Fuck it,” you thought, pressing download on the app. You waited for the blue circle to fill in, signaling it was down downloading. Opening the app, you were greeted with the welcome page, prompting you to make a profile. You had to admit you enjoyed making a profile, choosing fun phrases and answers to questions, and adding your best pictures.

Once you were done creating your profile, you were prompted to start swiping on potential matches. You tucked your feet under your butt and began to look for potential matches. You swiped right on a few, not overly impressed, but at least what they answered on their profile met your minimum standards.

Your thumb was starting to get tired, about to close the app for the day when a particular profile caught your eye.

Minho and Jisung Age 25 and 23. About us: We are a happy couple looking for our 3rd counterpart to complete our relationship. We love to cook, sing, camp, and just spend quality time together. Serious inquiries only and must not be allergic to cats.

You’re not sure why their profile interested you. You definitely weren’t looking for more than one significant other…right? You exited the app, not completely closing it out and set your phone down. You tuned into the tv show you were watching, but you couldn’t focus. Your mind kept going back to the profile you just saw.

No, definitely not a good idea to get involved with two people…a couple at that, you thought. Your internal dialog with yourself caused your interest to pique. Grabbing your phone once more, you opened the app, the profile still on the page. You looked through the pictures, seeing the two men enjoying various activities. They were both gorgeous, that was a fact. One had pretty tanned skin, dark brown hair, a beautiful smile with cute little teeth that reminded you of a bunny. The other had honey toned skinned with brown hair as well. What really stood out though was his cheeks. They reminded you of a squirrels cheeks.

Figuring you had nothing left to lose, you swiped right on their profile, letting out a sigh, closing the app completely, and setting your phone down. Looking up at the tv screen, you continued to watch your show, although you couldn’t comprehend what was being said, your mind elsewhere.

All day, you kept checking your phone, seeing if you had any notification from the app saying you matched with anyone…particularly the couple Minho and Jisung. You admitted to yourself you were intrigued, but tried not to think about it too much.

Your plan was somewhat successful, not looking at your phone frequently. You decided to clean, knowing that would keep your mind occupied. As you were twirling around your kitchen belting out "The View" from your favorite band Stray Kids, broom in hand, you heard your phone chime and vibrate on the counter where you set it last.

Turning down the music, you walked over to your phone and viewed the notification on your lock screen. What you saw made you gasp. They accepted your match. You shook your head in disbelief, but there it was, the proof, they matched with you. Opening up the notification, you were brought to the message page. Taking a deep breath, you clicked on the unread message.

~Hey y/n! What’s up? Happy we matched. If you’re interested, wanna meet up over coffee to talk? Might be easier to explain the situation in person :)~

You read the message, then read it again. They want to meet up with you. Shaking your head, you typed out

~sure I’d love to meet you. Coffee sounds great.~

You read the message you wrote and then pressed send, placing your phone back on the counter. Within seconds, you got a reply. Opening the message you read,

~Awesome! Let’s meet at Red Bird Cafe this Friday at 1pm.~

You checked your calendar, noticing nothing was on the schedule. You responded back with a

~sounds good. See you guys then.~

You were crazy, yep, definitely crazy, meeting up with two men. ****************************************************Friday morning, you woke up, sun shining in your face. You groaned at the time. Your best friend Mina would be over soon to help you get ready for your date. Getting up, you padded your way to the bathroom to relieve yourself and start getting ready. While in the bathroom, you heard a key in the lock, your best friend’s voice echoing through the apartment.

“Hey bestie,” she called out.

You looked up and saw your friend plop down on your bed.

“So what are you gonna wear? You gotta look hot!”

“It’s just a coffee date Mina, I don’t exactly have to be dressed in a ballgown.”

“ Well no, you don’t. But you wanna snag these men girl, I mean they are hot.”

You laughed listening to your friend’s reasoning. For her, it was all about looks, but you wouldn’t mind having a personal connection with the next guy…or men you date. Walking into your bedroom, you made your way to your closet. You pulled out a plain, blue shirt and paired it with some shorts.

“How about this?”

Mina looked at you for a moment before saying, “absolutely not. There’s no charm in that outfit.”

She got up off the bed, walking to your closet. She went through your clothes before pulling out a floral dress.

“This. Wear this. It’s beautiful, looks good on you and provides easy access.”

“Ummm, I don’t think I’ll need something for easy access. It’s a coffee date.”

“You never know,” she said with a smirk on her face. “Wear cute panties too,” she added on with a wink.

You rolled your eyes, but took the dress. You picked out a cute pair of underwear and started getting dressed. It was a pretty dress, it had spaghetti straps, and hugged your curves just right, landing perfectly mid-thigh. Mina helped you with your hair and makeup, opting for a more natural look. Your hair hung down your back in waves.

Mina gave you a look over, nodding her head in satisfaction. You grabbed your bag before walking to the door.

“Let me know all the details!”

“Of course Mina,” you smiled, making your way out the door. ***************************************************The cafe wasn’t far from your apartment; therefore, you decided to walk there. You were nervous so to say. Once arriving, you took a deep breath, opened the door, and walked in. The smell of coffee hit your nose, the scent welcoming. There were tables filled with people, some working on their laptops, others laughing freely with friends. There were also couches with chairs, giving a more cozy feel. It was a nice atmosphere. You scanned the place, looking for your dates, finally spotting them on a couch in the back, nestled by a window.

You took a moment to observe them. The one with dark brown hair and bunny teeth had his arms around the other with chubby cheeks and boba eyes. Boba eyes said something to the other, both of them laughing afterwards. They looked so in love. How were you supposed to potentially fit into this? An outsider? Walking over to the couple, you stopped in front of them. Both men looked up at you, looking you up and down. You shifted on your feet at their gaze.

“Y/n?” the one with bunny teeth asked.

You nodded your head, looking down and twiddling your hands together. You looked up to see them both smile at you.

The one with boba eyes and chubby cheeks gestured at the seat behind you. You sat down, smoothing down your dress.

“Nice to meet you, y/n. I’m Minho,” the man with dark brown hair and bunny teeth said, “and this is Jisung,” he gestured at the man next to him, who gave a wave and flashed a smile.

You smiled back at them, lost in Minho’s voice. “So, you’re looking for,” you thought for a moment of the right word to say. “Another significant other?”

Minho nodded. “Yes, we’ve been dating for five years and decided to open up our relationship for one more. We feel that we’re missing the missing piece in our relationship.”

You nodded at his response, mind running at top speed.

“So like, how does this work?” You asked.

“Well we get to know you and if it seems right, you’d become our girlfriend.” Jisung answered.

“Why don’t we start by getting coffee, and then we can chat,” Minho said.

“Ok” you said, getting up with Jisung to get coffees.

“Minho will stay here so we don’t lose our spot,” Jisung explained.

You both walked to the counter, ordering three iced americanos. Jisung glanced at you, smiling his gummy smile, big boba eyes shining.

“Don’t be nervous,” he said, “we really want to get to know you, ok? No funny business,” he said, holding up his hands in surrender.

You laughed at his statement. How could someone look so adorable? At that moment, your drinks were placed at the pickup counter. You grabbed yours while Jisung grabbed his and Minho’s. You both walked back and sat back down.

You chatted with the boys, learning all their favorites and even how they met. You also watched them interact with each other, how they seemed to flow with each other, in tune with the other’s actions. They seemed very much in love, and your mind couldn’t help but wonder how it would look if you were apart of their relationship. ***************************************************Time went by. You were lost in conversation with the couple, but all good things must come to an end. They offered to walk with you, which you agreed. Was it dumb to let two men walk you home that you just met? Probably, but who listens to reason. Plus, you felt comfortable with them.

You showed them the way, with you in the middle of the two as you walked to your apartment. It felt natural to be in between the two, like you had been a part of the relationship for years too. Approaching your apartment building, you stopped at the door.

“Well, this is me,” you said gesturing to the building.

Minho and Jisung nodded, looking at the building, before looking back at you. You twiddled your thumbs, rocking back and forth on your feet. Before you could stop yourself, you blurted out, “would you like to come upstairs?”

The boys smiled and Minho said, “sure.”

You led them into the building, pressing the elevator button. Once the door opened, the three of you stepped in. You pressed the number 4 for your floor. You noticed how Minho was slightly behind you, and Jisung next to you. The tension was thick in the air, almost palpable. You turned your head, looking at Jisung. He looked at you, his eyes seeming bigger, if that was possible, before looking down at him your lips. You returned the look, eyes gazing at his soft, plump lips.

Jisung leaned forward slowly, stopping right before touching your lips.

“Can I kiss you?” He whispered.

You whispered “yes” back.

With your permission, Jisung pressed his lips to yours, sighing into your lips. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in. He pressed soft kisses against your lips again and again and again. You found yourself chasing after his lips each time he withdrew his head.

Your heart was pounding, not believing you were kissing Jisung. Yet alone kissing someone who was in a relationship, and their significant other standing right there watching. The elevator dinged, signaling you were at your floor. Stepping back, you cleared your throat.

“Umm, this is my floor,” you said, tucking a piece of hair behind your ears.

Minho and Jisung both looked at you before exiting the elevator, you in tow. You showed them the way to your apartment. Fumbling with the key, you eventually got it into the lock, unlocking your door and swinging it open. Once everyone was inside, you closed the door and placed your keys on the hallway table.

You all stood there in silence, that tension in the air again. Minho finally stepped up to you, brushing your cheek with the back of his hand.

“You ok, kitten?” he asked.

You nodded your head yes. Minho smiled at you, before taking your hand and gesturing for you to lead them further inside. You brought them to your living area, sitting on the couch, both boys following suit. Minho grabbed your chin, turning your head toward him before pressing his lips to yours. He licked and nipped your bottom lips, your mouth opening as he pushed his tongue into your mouth.

As you were kissing Minho, you felt a soft pair of lips brush against your shoulder before pressing a wet kiss there. You softly moaned at the sensation, Minho smiling into your lips at the sound. He pulled back, watching as you tilted your head to the side, giving Jisung more access.

“Hmm kitten is needy?” Minho said. He grinned at you as you looked at him through hooded eyes.

“Come here,” he motioned, helping you turn around to face Jisung. Jisung was looking at you, pupils huge, and cheeks flushed.

“Lay back jagi,” Jisung said, pushing you back gently so your back rested against Minho.

Minho got comfy behind you, his hands rubbing up and down your arms. You relaxed in his embrace, more comfortable than you probably should be. Whatever was about to happen, you were ready.

“Can I take care of you, jagi?” Jisung asked you.

You looked at him, giving him a smile, said yes.

Jisung smiled back at you before laying on his belly. He parted your legs, your dress covering your core. Jisung pressed kisses up your leg, nipping and squeezing the flesh. You sighed out softly, watching the man in front of you. Minho grabbed your hands in his at that moment, resting them on your belly, watching as Jisung made his way higher and higher up your leg, reaching your plush thighs.

He looked at you before grabbing the hem of your dress, and flipping it up, exposing your core to his eyes. You blushed as he stared, feeling your slick coat your panties. You’d have to thank Mina later for making you wear your cute pair.

Jisung leaned forward once more, breathing in your smell, before pressing a kiss to your clothed core. You shivered at the feeling, Minho squeezing your hands at your action.

“Go on Ji, give her what she wants,” you heard Minho rasp out.

Jisung licked a stripe up your panties, sucking on the material, drenching it with his spit. You squirmed at the feeling, letting out little sighs. He moaned out against your core, before licking at your covered clit. He nipped at the material, sucking the cloth and bud into his mouth. He gave one more kiss on your soaked panties before reaching up to drag them down your legs. You watched with bated breath as he tossed them away before opening your legs up more, one hanging off the couch, the other pressed into the back of the couch.

He was staring at your wet pussy, slick sticking to the hair that donned your nether region. You blushed and tucked your head into Minho as best as you could, embarrassed and a little self-conscious. You closed your legs some before Jisung stopped you, looking up at you with concerned eyes.

“What’s wrong kitten?” Minho asked, taking his hands to rub up and down your shoulders to soothe you once more.

You hesitated before saying, “well I haven’t shaved.” You covered your eyes with your hand.

“But jagi, your pussy is beautiful, and the hair makes it even more so!” Jisung said.

You uncovered your face, looking at Jisung. “You don’t mind?”

“Absolutely not jagi. Like I said, it’s beautiful and sexy.”

You nodded ok and watched as Jisung reached for your legs, looking at you for silent permission to continue.

“Go ahead,” you whispered.

Jisung gently pushed your legs open once more, before leaning down. He opened up your lips with his fingers, before licking a stripe from your entrance to your clit. You moaned out, hips bucking at the feeling. Your hand flew to Jisung’s hair, grabbing hold of the strands, pushing his face further into your pussy.

Jisung licked a few more stripes up your pussy before attaching his plump lips to your clit, rolling the bud around his tongue. He leaned back to spit on your pussy, watching as it mixed with your slick, before wrapping his lips around your clit once more. He suckled the bud, rolling it with his tongue, making out with your pussy like a man starved.

You closed your eyes, getting lost in the feeling, gripping Jisung’s hair harder in your hands. You rode his tongue, whining out, whimpering his name. Behind you, you felt as Minho slowly slid your dress straps down your shoulders, pushing them down to expose your breasts. Minho groped and pinched your nipples, while Jisung slid two fingers into your pussy, causing your back to arch at the intrusion.

Jisung slid his fingers in and out of your warm walls before curling his fingers up, pressing against your sweet spot. You rocked your hips in time with his fingers, letting out breathy moans. Minho fondled your nipples, giving them a pinch every now and then. You felt your orgasm approaching with the help of the two men.

“Keep, keep going,” you breathed out, “don’t stop.”

Jisung moaned into your pussy, speeding up the thrusting of his fingers. With a lick and bite of your clit, you came hard, loud moans spilling from your mouth. You rode out your high, sporadically rocking your hips against Jisung’s face. Minho continued to grope and knead your breast, whispering sweet praises in your ear as you came down.

You relaxed your hold on Jisung’s hair, watching as he lifted his head up and sat back. Your slick and his spit was dripping down his chin, your arousal painting his lips, leaving them shiny. He grinned at you before leaning over and pressing his lips against Minho’s. You looked up in awe at the two men above you, feeling yourself getting aroused again. Jisung leaned back and pressed a kiss to your lips next. It was gentle, his lips molding with yours. You could taste yourself and Minho on his lips. You wrapped your arms around his neck, not wanting him to stop.

He grinned against your lips, gave you one more peck before sitting down next to you.

“Let me clean you up jagi,” he said, walking to your kitchen to get a towel.

He came over and wiped you down before picking up your panties and putting them back on. He fixed your dress for you and helped you sit up.

Sitting there, you were confused to say the least. Looking at their bulges, you could tell they were both hard and were sure it was not exactly comfortable. You wanted, no, needed to help them out.

“What about you guys?” you asked.

Minho just shook his head. “Don’t worry kitten. You can help us out next time.”

Next time. There would be a next time. You felt happy at that thought. You knew they would not be leaving your mind anytime soon. You nodded your head, a little smile spreading on your face.

Minho brushed the back of his hand down the side of your face, whispering “beautiful.” You leaned into his palm, sighing happily at his praise. Jisung looked over your shoulder at Minho, giving him a smile, unspoken words in his eyes. Minho knew exactly what Jisung was thinking, that you were the one, the person they were looking for to complete them.

“Well kitten, this has been fun. Can we see you again?” Minho asked.

“Yes!” you answered a little too quickly and enthusiastically. Clearing your throat in embarrassment, you said in a more calm voice, “I’d like that.”

Both boys chuckled, getting up from your couch. Jisung helped you up, steadying you as you wobbled a little. You walked them to the door, watching as they put their shoes on. They each gave you a kiss and said they’d be in touch for the next date. Closing the door behind them, you leaned back against the door. You cannot believe your day. You had to phone Mina immediately. ****************************************************A little while later, you and Mina were sitting on the floor, take out containers spread out around you. Mina opted to come over to have a girls night, and of course, to hear you spill the details of your date.

“They were so sweet, Mina. I mean, they are in love, you can definitely tell.” You explained. “At first I couldn’t see how I could fit in, but as the date went on, it felt….natural being with them? I guess that’s the word for it.” You chuckled.

“Well you are a catch,” Mina said tossing her hair over her shoulders, “they’d be dumb not to like you.”

“And afterwards, we came back here,” you tailed off.

“You came back here and what?” Mina questioned, setting her food down. She looked you in the eyes, all ears at what you were about to say.

“We kissed in the elevator and my god the tension was intense, Mina. Once we got in my apartment, one thing led to another, and before you know it, Jisung was eating me out.”

Mina started clapping her hands, “yes girl! And you said nothing was going to happen.” She smirked and picked up her food.

You truly were stunned at today’s events, your mind wandering to Jisung’s lips on your clit and Minho’s hands pinching your nipples.

“Earth to y/n!”

You snapped out of your reverie to see your friend wavering her hand in front of your face.

“You were thinking of your boos huh,” Mina chuckled.

“They’re not my boos…not yet at least.” You said blushing.

“You said yet! You want to be their girlfriend don’t you! Don’t lie y/n it’s all over your face!” Mina patted you on the back.

You did want to be their girlfriend. It was difficult to explain, but you felt like they were what you were looking for. Your phone buzzed. Looking down, you saw it was Minho. You grabbed your phone and read the text. They wanted to take you out again, this weekend, this time to a club.

“They want to go out this weekend,” you told Mina.

“Oh? Well we need to prepare your outfit!”

You responded to Minho agreeing to the date. You were happy having a friend like Mina since she was good at things like fashion and beauty, stuff you were never good at. ***************************************************The weekend came and so did the day of your date. You did your hair and makeup before putting on the dress Mina picked out for you. It was royal blue body con dress. You looked at yourself in the mirror, satisfied with the look, hoping the boys would like the look too. You grabbed your shoes and bag just as there was a knock at your door.

You opened the door and there they stood, looking absolutely gorgeous. You noticed them looking you over, little smirks forming on their faces.

“You look beautiful y/n” Jisung said grinning.

You said thank you before putting on your shoes. You locked your door and followed them out of your apartment building.

“We’ll take our car kitten,” Minho said.

You nodded, stepping aside as Jisung opened the door for you, sliding in beside you. Minho slid into the driver’s seat, starting the car. He pulled away from the curb, sliding smoothly into traffic. Watching him drive sparked something in you, which was stupid you knew, but watching the veins pop out of his hands as he maneuvered the wheel, the way he bit his lip every now and then as he watched the road….you were horny, no doubt about it.

Jisung scooted closer to you, giving you his gummy smile. You smiled back at him, his happiness contagious, watching as he reached out to grab your hand. He rubbed circles on your hand, which felt soothing. You relaxed into the seat, feeling comfortable. The destination wasn’t too far from your place. Minho pulled into a parking lot, parking the car (which was also hot to you). All three of you got out of the car and headed to the entrance.

Opening the door, the bass met your ears, lyrics of a popular rap song blaring throughout the room. There were people dancing in the middle of the room, while others were perched on couches that littered the corners of the place. Minho took your hand and led you through the crowd, Jisung’s hand perched on your lower back. He led you to one of the couches, a reserved sign placed on the table. All three of you sat down, a girl with a skimpy outfit coming by to get your drink orders. You ordered a vodka cranberry, sticking to the basics since you weren’t much of a drinker. Jisung ordered a twisted seltzer and Minho stuck to water being the driver.

You sat with the boys, being squished between the two, waiting on your drinks. They definitely like physical touch, you thought, which was no problem for you. Minho draped his arms around your shoulders, giving them a squeeze, while Jisung kept his hand on your thigh. Just their touch was causing sparks to shoot down your spine, settling in your core. Once your drinks came, you downed them before suggesting to go dance. The music was good, and you wanted to get on the dance floor.

“Sure kitten,” Minho said, getting up and reaching his hand out to you to help you get up, with Jisung right behind you.

The three of you made your way to the dance floor, settling amongst the bodies swaying to the music. Minho stood behind you, placing his hands on your hips, with Jisung in front of you. You draped your arms around Jisung’s neck, pulling him close. You swayed your hips in tune with the beat, feeling Minho pull you closer. After a while, all three of you were in synch, getting lost in the beat and each other’s arms. You felt your dress ride up slightly, allowing you to feel something hard press against your ass.

You pressed your ass back against Minho’s bulge, hearing his breath catch, and gripping your hips harder. Jisung smiled, watching Minho’s reaction. Jisung griped your chin before pressing a kiss on your lips, again and again. You loved his plush lips, the way they moulded perfectly with yours. You let out a whine, swiveling your hips once more against Minho’s. You’re not sure how much time passed, song after song passed, each moment getting more heated. You were wet, feeling your slick pool in your panties, causing them to stick to your pussy, a fluttery feeling spreading through your core with each touch and kiss from Minho and Jisung.

Eventually, Minho whispered in your ear, Jisung watching with his eyes wide and pupils dilated, “let’s take you home kitten, hmm?”

You nodded, more than ready to leave with them. Minho pressed a kiss to your shoulder before taking your hand once more, leading you out of the crowd, Jisung not far behind. You three quickly made your way to the car, Minho once more getting behind the wheel, Jisung sliding in next to you.

“Want go back to ours kitten?” Minho asked.

“Yes please,” you breathed out as Jisung peppered kisses up and down your jaw before slotting his lips over yours.

You returned the kiss eagerly, letting out a sigh at the feeling, tongues sliding against each other, as Jisung nipped at your lip. You took your hand and slide it down to Jisung’s bulge, giving it a squeeze, the boy whimpering against your lips. Popping open the button and unzipping his jeans, you slid your hand in his boxers, wrapping your hand around his cock, collecting the pre-cum that was leaking out. You looked into his eyes, seeing the need in his eyes, as you stroked his cock. You gave him a smile before leaning down and pressing a kiss to the tip, Jisung letting out a loud moan at the feeling. He opened his eyes, briefly making eye contact with Minho, before looking back down at you.

He gathered your hair so it wouldn’t get in the way as you bobbed your head, taking more of his length. He gently bucked his hips, sliding more of his cock into your mouth, hearing you moan, causing him to shudder at the vibration.

You suckled the head before lifting your head with a pop, Jisung whimpering at the sudden loss of the warmth of your mouth. You gathered some spit before spitting on his cock, spreading it around before taking him in your mouth once more. Hollowing out your cheeks, you sucked him off in earnest, loud, slick noises coming from your mouth. You felt Jisung moan and whine, his hips bucking up, causing his cock to kiss the back of your throat.

He gripped your hair harder, whimpering out, “don’t stop jagi..fuck, gonna cum. Keep going, fuck!”

You suckled his the tip once more, swiping your tongue over the slit before deep throating his cock. You felt him shudder, before he loudly came, cum shooting out of his cock and down your throat. You hummed around his cock, sucking him dry, feeling him squirm at the extra stimulation. Lifting your head with a pop, you opened your mouth so he could see his cum.

“Kiss me jagi,” he whimpered out.

You leaned forward, pressing your lips against his. he slid his tongue into your mouth, as you pushed some of his cum into his mouth. He groaned against your lips, tasting his cum before leaning back. You both swallowed, your chests heaving.

“God that was hot,” you heard a voice say behind you.

You turned your head, seeing Minho turned around in his seat, the car parked. You forgot that he was there, yet alone in a car, not noticing when you got to your destination.

“Let’s get inside kitten,” Minho smirked, watching as Jisung tucked his softened cock back in his boxers and zipped his pants back up. The boys took your hand, walking up to their apartment door, Minho unlocking the door. Stepping inside, you did a quick glance over of the place, noticing how comfy it seemed. Jisung skipped inside, kicking off his shoes before making his way to a room. Minho grabbed your hand and followed Jisung, entering what you assumed was their bedroom.

Jisung was already perched at the top of the bed, reclining against the mountain of pillows there. Minho slowly pushed you down, his eyes never leaving yours.

“It’s my turn to have some fun with you, hmm kitten,” Minho said, hovering over you.

“Yes, need you Min,” you said.

Minho smiled at the nickname, before leaning down and pressing his lips to yours. You sighed into the kiss, your lips gently moving with his. Minho dragged his fingers down your chest and belly, before lightly pressing down on your panties, sliding his fingers through your lips. You gasped at the feeling of your soaked panties dragging through your folds, letting out a little moan. Minho slowly rubbed at your clit, the soaked fabric providing the lubrication he needed to ease the glide. He continued to gently kiss you, muffling the soft sounds coming from your mouth.

He pushed your panties to the side, the pad of his finger finally making direct contact with the little bud, your hips slightly jerking upwards at his touch. He watched you fall apart as he slid his finger back and forth, up, down on your clit. He withdrew his fingers, a whimper leaving your lips. Grasping the band of your panties, he dragged them down your legs and tossed them aside. Minho parted your legs, eyes locking in on your pussy, shiny from the dripping arousal from your pussy. He licked his lips before leaning down to slide his tongue through your folds.

He moaned at your taste, burying his head further into your pussy, understanding what Jisung meant when he told him your pussy just tasted too good. Minho licked another strip up your pussy before latching onto your clit, giving it kitten licks before suckling the bud. He held your hips down as you squirmed, listening to the sweet moans falling from your mouth. Minho sucked at your clit once more before dragging his tongue down to your entrance, his tongue pushing into your warm walls.

Minho fucking your walls with his tongue felt so good, you could barely lay still, rocking your hips up and down. His nose brushed against your clit, providing stimulation, causing you to mewl out, that tingling feeling building up within you. Through your foggy haze, you saw movement to the side and turning your head, you saw Jisung scoot beside you, grasping your hand.

“Sungie kiss me,“ you begged, as Minho kept fucking your pussy with his tongue.

Jisung grinned, latching his lips onto yours, immediately sliding his tongue into your mouth, sucking on your tongue. Your moans got louder as you felt close, your hips wildly bucking upwards. You felt Minho finger at your clit, circling the bud. Your breath hitched up and with a loud cry, you came, your legs closing to squeeze against Minho’s head, as your walls clenched around his tongue. He kept tongue fucking you through your high, moaning into you. Jisung peppered your face with kisses, swallowing up your moans, his lips on yours once more.

You breathed out, releasing your hold on Minho’s head. He gave a feather light kiss to your clit before sitting up and leaning down to kiss you. You could taste your arousal on his lips, groaning at the taste. He leaned back before leaning over to kiss Jisung, letting him have a taste of you too. You watched as your breathing returned to normal, grinning at the desperation between the two.

Minho and Jisung separated before turning to you.

“Let’s get this dress off jagi,” Jisung said reaching to unzip the back of the dress.

Minho stood up removing his shirt and pants, tossing them haphazardly in the room. You shimmied out of the dress, Jisung helping you the whole time. Laying naked on their bed, the boys stared at you, taking in your beauty.

Jisung brushed his fingers against your breasts, blowing on each one of them in turn, causing your nipples to harden. He repeated the action a few times, before kneading one of your breasts, leaning down to take a nipple in his mouth. He sucked and sucked, darting his tongue out to lick the mound, all the while fondling the other. Sighing at the feeling, you looked up to see that Minho had removed his boxers, his cock hard and leaking.

“I’m going to fuck you now kitten,” Minho said, spreading your legs more so he could settle between them.

He stroked his cock a few times, watching as Jisung sucked at your breasts. He slid his cock through your folds, gathering your slick, before tapping your clit a few times. Placed his cock at your entrance, he slowly pushed in, your walls stretching to accommodate his cock. The stretch felt good, a mixture of pleasure and pain. Minho bottomed out and stilled, looking down at you in concern.

“Move, please move,” you whimpered, lifting your hips up for some friction.

Minho pulled out before pushing in, his cock dragging along your walls. It felt so wet and warm, he didn’t want to pull out and he wouldn’t. He wanted to live within your walls. He started to snap his hips into yours, moans leaving his mouth and yours. The sight below him a dream. You were fucked out, mouth open, eyes in a daze, one hand on his chest, the other buried in Jisung’s hair as he suckled and nipped at your breasts.

You felt that tingle again in your belly, the feeling expanding as Minho fucked you, pounding into you in a steady rhythm, hitting your sweet spot with each thrust. You moaned out, whimpering, little “ahhhs” and “please” leaving your lips.

“Don’t stop, I’m close, ahhh” you whined.

You felt the coil snap, your orgasm hitting you hard. Your vision turned white, while your hearing turned fuzzy. Minho didn’t stop pounding into you, helping you ride out your high. He was close, he just needed to adjust a little and with your pussy clenching around him, he came, his cum hitting your walls, throwing his head back at the feeling, little bunny teeth showing.

He stilled his hips, and looked down at you and Jisung. Jisung lifted his head off your breast with a pop, a string of spit trailing from his mouth to your nipple. Jisung’s cock was hard again, and rutting his hips against the sheets to get some friction.

You moaned as Minho pulled out of you, watching as Jisung shuffled his way down to your pussy. He leaned down and quickly lapped up you and Minho’s cum, moaning at the taste. Minho laid down next to you, brushing the hair out of your face. You looked at him with glassy eyes, feeling at ease and relaxed, little sighs falling from you as Jisung lapped at you like it was his last meal.

Leaning back, Jisung wiped his mouth before shucking off his boxers, palming his cock before settling between your legs.

“My turn jagi,” he whispered.

You nodded, saying “need you Sungie please.”

He smiled down at you before pushing in, sliding right in because of your slick and being stretched open by Minho’s cock. Jisung was a little thicker, but you took it, wanting to feel all of him. Jisung bottomed out, whines and pants coming from his mouth.

“So hot and wet, made for us jagi, oh fuck”

Jisung snapped his hips again and again, lost in your wet walls, your body sliding up and down the sheets, mouth open in an “o” no sound coming out. Tears were forming in your eyes from the mix between pleasure and pain from overstimulation.

You reached up and wrapped your arms around Jisung causing him to fall forward and bury his head in your neck. You felt his little breath’s against your neck as he rocked his hips into yours, you locking your legs around him to keep him close.

“Fu..fuck!” Jisung panted out, jolting forward suddenly.

You looked over his shoulder to see Minho behind Jisung, his fingers sliding in and out of his hole, stretching him out. Jisung pounded into you faster, his high approaching with the extra stimulation. With a wail, Jisung came, filling you up to the brim, his cum leaking out. Minho helped Jisung pull out before laying him on his belly, and pushing his cock into Jisung’s hole.

Jisung let out another wail, little pants falling from his mouth as Minho fucked him, sliding his cock in and out, in and out. You watched the scene in front of you, taking in Jisung’s fucked out face, the way he just took what Minho gave him, to Minho, panting as he pounded into Jisung, his chest rising and falling, his head falling back in pleasure.

Jisung came again, cries falling from his lips, as his cock was still hard after fucking you, cum spilling all over the sheets. Minho slipped out of Jisung, removing the condom that he must have put on at some point, you being too fucked out to notice, before lifting Jisung up and on his knees.

“Suck,” Minho said, Jisung scrambling to wrap his lips around Minho’s cock. Jisung bobbed his head up and down, while Minho grabbed Jisung hair to control his pace. Minho groaned in pleasure, bunny teeth biting his lip, as Jisung sucked and sucked, Minho’s cock hitting the back of his throat again and again.

Jisung fondled Minho’s balls, as he continued to suck, Minho roaring out in pleasure, speeding up his thrusts into Jisung’s mouth. With a loud moan, he stilled his hips, pressing Jisung’s face to his pelvis, spurting cum into Jisung’s mouth. Once done, he released Jisung, who scrambled back, showing Minho his tongue with his cum on it before swallowing it.

Minho smiled, leaning down to give Jisung a kiss. Collapsing on the bed, Jisung crawled to you, wrapping his hands around your waist and burying his head in your neck. Minho settled on the other side, pressing gentle kisses to your face, causing you to giggle. He smiled, the sound of your laughter like heaven to him.

“Will you be ours kitten? Be our girlfriend?”

You simply nodded your head, “of course.”

You felt the happiest you’ve been in a long time, sandwiched between two men you were growing to love.

Taglist: @jehhskz @jeonginsleftcheek

514 notes · View notes

antiquarianfics · 1 year ago

Text

Accidental pt. 4

What happens when you accidentally kidnap the exact man you were looking for?

pairing: mob!bucky x reader

warning(s): canon level violence, kidnapping, profanity

a/n: it’s my birthday, so let’s celebrate with their date 🤭

You do not have permission to copy, translate, or repost my work; however, feel free to like, comment, and reblog.

part 3

»»———-———-———-———-———-———-———-««

"Oh, and one more thing," you say, catching the man's attention before he gets back into the SUV. He raises an eyebrow, you smirk. "Tell James he better damn well bring flowers."

—

You sigh as you stare at your reflection in the mirror, smoothing out your blouse. You turn to the side to see the back of your outfit and straighten back out again.

“You’re wearing pants to a fancy date with a crime lord?” Ellie asks, judgement lacing her question. You turn and raise an eyebrow at her, crossing the room to find the loafers you planned to wear.

“Yeah. Problem?” You ask, not really caring about Ellie’s opinion of your date attire. After all, it’s really more of a business transaction than a date.

“Yes! He’s probably expecting a dress, heels! Something low cut! You’re supposed to look sexy! You,” she pauses, gesturing to your body with an exasperated hand motion, “look like a JCPenney commercial.”

You scoff, a smirk teasing your lips. “Ellie, I don’t care. First of all, I can run a hell of a lot easier in loafers than heels, in slacks than a dress. Second of all,” you pick up your handgun where it lie on your dresser and check the safety, “I can’t hide this as easily in a dress.” Once you’re satisfied the safety is on, you tuck the gun away in the back of your pants, pulling your blouse back down over it. You look in the mirror again and fiddle with the tucking.

“Should I French tuck this?”

“Yes,” Ellie says distractedly before continuing. “But, Y/N, this guy is dangerous. You should play it safe. It’s just a date, so be who he obviously wants you to be.”

You sigh, turning back around to look your sister in the eyes.

“Ellie,” you say, tone dead serious. “Why are you so afraid of him? What did he do to you?”

Ellie blanches and doesn’t say anything. You sigh again turning back around to the mirror to fiddle with your hair, making sure it’s out of your face.

“I never saw him,” Ellie says suddenly. You watch her through the mirror where she sits on your bed staring at her hands. “I never saw him,” she starts again, “but I don’t think I was important enough for him to spare me his attention.

“I was at home making dinner when his men came for me. There was knock on the door, and when I answered, they stuck a bag over my head. Next thing I knew, I was in a dank, small room. There was a mattress on the floor for me to sleep, a toilet. Nothing else. I was there for maybe two days before someone came for me. I was taken to a conference room. There was a man there. I forget his name, but he was tall. Blond. He asked if I knew why I was there, I said I did, and he asked if I had any way to repay what I owed.”

“What did you owe?”

“750,000 dollars.”

“Ellie! How do you—? What? How?” You’re shocked, unable to comprehend how your baby sister could owe anyone so much.

“I… I met this guy, Zemo. We were just friends, but he started taking me around his friends. His friends hung out in these speakeasy type clubs. They played poker and stuff. I don’t know. I usually just watched, but after a few times, they talked me into it. Told me it was easy money, and, Y/N, I needed the money! So, I played, and I was doing really well. So I kept playing long after Zemo and his buddies left. I made so much down there, but I got too cocky and I lost an all-or-nothing. I played again to try and win it back, but it was like I’d lost my mojo, like I’d been playing on beginner’s luck.”

“Ellie,” you say sympathetically.

“I was $750,000 in debt and I couldn’t pay it, but the man I’d lost to—I think he felt bad—he said I could have 72 hours to get him his money. If I didn’t get him the money in time…” She trails off and you realize you’re clenching your jaw. You consciously unclench it. Ellie takes in a deep breath and exhales slowly. “He said if I didn’t get the money to him in 72 hours he would just have to find another way for me to pay him back. I don’t really know what he meant by that.

Anyway, the blond man asked if I could repay the money. I said no. He looked… sympathetic? He told me I’d have to go back to the cell until they could find use for me. I was there until they brought me home.”

You sit next to her on the bed, circling your arm around her. “Elle, I’m so sorry. I wish you’d come to me for help. I would’ve helped.”

“You don’t have that money, either. Plus, you are helping.”

“I guess.”

“What time is it?”

“6:30.”

“Are you nervous?” Ellie asks.

“I accidentally kidnapped the most powerful man in the city and threatened his life, sis. I’m not nervous at all,” you say sarcastically.

Ellie opens her mouth to respond but is cut off by the ringing of your doorbell and a knock on the door. The two of you exchange a surprised look and you double check your watch: 6:34.

“He’s early,” you say, standing as you take a deep breath and try to swallow your nerves.

“Hey, you’ve got this. I know it,” Ellie reassures you, but she makes no move to follow you as you leave the room and go to make good on your end of yours and James’ bargain. You’re settling her debt and she makes no further move to support you.

You sigh as you reach the front door, swallowing your nerves and the tiny bit of resentment for your sister forming. Swinging the door open, you come face to face with the same man you had kidnapped and assaulted the day before: James Barnes.

James is looking around him when you open the door, but his attention is immediately on you as the door opens. His striking blue eyes meet yours, take in your person, and meet your eyes again. He grins.

“You look beautiful, Doll,” he says. He sounds breathless, completely blown away. You give him a questioning look, still so unsure of his motives.

“Thank you. You clean up nice. Not being tied up to a chair suits you,” you say. Your words come out funny. The ‘thank you’ sounds somewhat genuine but the compliment comes out somewhat strained, like you’re not sure you should be saying it.

James ignores your tone and lets his grin widen. He then takes a hand out from behind his back—you hadn’t even noticed his hand was behind his back—and hands you a bouquet of blue hyacinths. You just stare at them for a while as your brain attempts to catch up with your eyes.

“You actually brought flowers.”

“You threatened me again,” he teases.

“James, I…” You trail off, speechless. You wonder how you keep getting away with threatening him. Most people would be, at best, locked away, at worst, dead.

“Bucky.”

“What?”

“My name,” he says, “is Bucky.”

You let your eyes trail from the hyacinths up to his eyes (you can’t help but notice they’re the same color), and you think that he looks shy—timid. James—Bucky—looks like he is nervous to ask you to call him by this other name.

“Bucky?” You ask, and, against your better judgment, as you ask it, you pull back your front door and step aside, inviting him into your home. He looks equally surprised you’d do such a thing, but he enters, taking a few steps into the corridor before pausing to look around and to wait on you. You close the door behind you and lead him to the kitchen where you pull out a vase for the flowers.

“Yeah,” he says. “It’s—erm—a nickname. It’s what my friends call me.”

“We’re friends?” You ask skeptically.

“Well, no, but we’re going on a date. ‘James’ is just a little formal,” he says, wrinkling his nose at his own name.

You offer him a friendly smile (which surprises you). “Well, Bucky, you’re lucky I’m ready because you’re, like, half an hour early.”

Bucky has the decency to look embarrassed, but he ignores the accusation. “Well,” he says instead, “shall we go?”

You nod and follow him out to his car. Once you make it to the vehicle, Bucky opens the car door for you, carefully shutting it behind you. He takes his spot in the driver’s seat a moment later.

You let out a breathy laugh and he side eyes you as he starts the car.

“What?”

“Nothing! I just sort of expected you to have a driver. You’re just… surprising.”

He smiles at your admission. “Careful, Doll. Someone might think you like me.”

“Doubtful.”

It’s not a long drive to what is certainly a high class establishment—an establishment nicer than any you’ve been to before. Bucky gets out of the car, rushing to let you out. As you get out of the car, he offers his keys to the valet and his arm to you. You glance briefly at his arm and give him an annoyed look as you loop your arm through his.

Bucky escorts you to the double glass doors that lead to the restaurant where a doorman waits to open the door for you. You say “thank you” as you pass and Bucky gives you an unreadable look. Then, once inside the restaurant, Bucky whispers something to the host who nods and leads you towards the back and up some stairs that lead to a glass enclosed landing where two guards stand on either side of the door leading to the rooftop seating. Bucky lets go of your arm and steps forward as the male security guard mirrors him. The guard pats Bucky down, finds a handgun tucked away in a holster at his waist, takes it, and then allows him to step to the side so that you may take your turn.

Your breathing picks up ever so slightly as you watch Bucky get frisked, especially once you realize they’re going to frisk you, too. You start to worry when you realize they’re going to find a weapon on you—how is that going to play out? Will Bucky go back on his word? Will he kill you? Then, when they take away Bucky’s weapon, you remind yourself to breathe normally and regain some confidence. He brought a gun, too: he doesn’t trust you and you don’t trust him.

You step forward, making eye contact with Bucky the whole time. You hold your arms out ever so slightly as the female guard steps forward to frisk you. You raise an eyebrow—maybe you’re challenging him to do something—when the guard finds your gun and pulls it out of your waistband. She holds it up and offers you a “seriously?” look, which you see in your peripheral. You shrug at her, eyes still on Bucky. He’s smirking.

The two of you are then led by the host through the guarded door to a single table that sits on the balcony. The balcony has been well decorated with myriad plants and string lights. There’s soft music playing in the background. Bucky pulls out a chair for you and you sit, watching as he takes the seat across from you. The two of you just watch each other as the host offers you menus and promises a waiter will be with you soon. Once the host is gone, the two of you sit, watching, waiting.

“Lovely weather we’re having,” you finally say, picking up the menu. If he isn’t going to say anything, you decide, you’re going to play coy.

Bucky raises his eyebrows, letting out a laugh and looking away before returning is gaze to you.

“You brought a gun to our date,” he says.

“So did you,” you reply, still looking at the menu. “Is the chicken alfredo any good here?”

“What for?” He asks, ignoring the alfredo question.

You sigh, setting down the menu. “Why did you?”

“You held me at gunpoint the last time we met. How was I to know you wouldn’t try to finish the job?”

“I held you at gunpoint the last time we met, but I had you tied up. How was I to know you wouldn’t take the shot now that your hands aren’t tied?”

“We’re here because I already shot my shot.”

“Clever.”

“I’m not going to hurt you.”

“I’ve given you every reason to.”

He laughs humorlessly. “If I wanted to hurt you, don’t you think I would have done it already?”

“Why am I here, James? Why don’t you want to hurt me? Aren’t you supposed to be some big, scary crime lord? Because you’re not living up to your name.”

Bucky clenches his jaw and looks away. You think you’ve maybe finally struck a nerve, finally gone too far.

“Have you ever once considered, Y/N, that maybe—just maybe—I’m a person, too? Did you ever think you were capable of threatening someone’s life until necessity made you?” You flinch. He notices. “I have a shitty job. I do shitty things. I do even shittier things to even shittier people. But it’s the job I was given, the job I have, and the job I do. Maybe I’m a monster, a freak, an emotionless robot, but maybe that’s just what I have to be so I don’t go crazy. At the end of the day, I’m just a man who wants to live his life, so forgive me for wanting to do that.”

Bucky is breathing erratically. He’s worked up. You stare, mouth slightly agape, surprised. You have a feeling he’s felt this way a while and never had the chance to voice it, but you also realize that your existence in his life might be more to him than just some girl who wants her sister back, some girl who extorted him.

“You actually like me,” you say, genuinely surprised.

He looks at you, eyes softening and looking a little embarrassed.

“Yeah.”

“You’ve got terrible taste.”

He laughs. “That so?”

“I never even introduced myself. You clearly only know my name because you know who my sister is and put two and two together. I’ve been terrible to you. I mean, I have my totally logical and understandable reasons, but I’ve been terrible.”

“That’s true, but I was holding your sister hostage. Not the best conditions. I’m sure she’s thrilled about all this.” He gestures to the table in front of you, the two of you.

“She recognizes I’m cleaning up her mess.”

Bucky looks at you, expression sad.

“Cleaning up her mess,” he repeats quietly. “You don’t have to do this,” he says, louder, more confident.

“What?”

“This date. You don’t want to be here. You’re not interested. I get it. You’re cleaning up your sister’s mess. You can just go,” he says, looking far off onto the horizon. “Don’t worry about Ellie. Her debt’s forgotten.”

You don’t move. You sit, you stare, you chew your lip, and you consider the man in front of you. You consider the handsome, powerful, sad man in front of you who—to your surprise—is genuinely interested in you. You make a decision.

You hear your chair scrape against the floor as you stand up and start to walk back towards the door. You take a few steps past Bucky, turn around, and walk back to the table. You stop right beside Bucky and hold out your hand. Bucky looks at your hand outstretched to him and trails his eyes up to you, and you watch as he carefully searches your face.

“Hi,” you say, smiling. “I’m Y/N. Mind if I join you for dinner?”

Bucky’s face breaks out into a grin as he takes your hand, grasping it firmly as he shakes it. “Bucky,” he greets, playing along. “I wouldn’t mind at all.”

»»———-———-———-———-———-———-———-««

@cjand10 @vicmc624 @mostlymarvelgirl @livingoutsidethetardis @onceithough @thedonswife13 @kaithesimps-blog @buckitostan @julvrs @unaxv @searchn0tfound @10ava01

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x you #marvel x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fic #mob!bucky x reader #mob!bucky barnes x reader #mob bucky #mob!bucky #mob!au #mafia au

450 notes · View notes

gguk-n · 8 months ago

Text

Tracks & Beats (Max Verstappen x Rapper!Reader)

Face claim- Lee Sung Kyung. Reader is best friend's with Suga of BTS. Google translated Korean. All the pictures are from Pinterest.

Max winning after 4 months!!

y/ngotswings is Max's fan account

2016

y/n.y/l/n

Liked by 3,890 others Tagged bts.bighitoffiicial

y/n.y/l/n 최고의 프로듀서이자 래퍼 중 한 명과 함께 일할 기회가 있었다 Had the chance to work with one of the best producers and rapper

user15 언니 그 노래는 정말 좋았어 😭😭unnie the song was so good user16 collab of the century!!😍😍 user17 사랑해 ❤️❤️i love you y/ngotswings Best song yet!!😭❤️

2019

y/n.y/l/n

Liked by 7,264 others Tagged bts.bighitofficial

y/n.y/l/n 나와 함께 노래를 작업해준 윤기 오빠 고마워 Thank you Yoongi oppa for working on this song with me!!

user18 OMG!!! The way his voices meshes with hers😍😍 user19 Their collab's keep getting better and better😭😭 user20 언니 잘했어 👍👍unnie, good job!! user21 넌 정말 예쁘다 누나 😍you're so pretty, noona y/ngotswings I cried😭😭

2023

y/n.y/l/n

Liked by 10,500 others

y/n.y/l/n comeback season!!!

user22 this comeback was sooooo goooddd!! user23 i loved the album user24 i can't wait to watch you live user25 화이팅 👍👍Fighting!! user26 당신의 미소가 정말 좋아요 ❤️❤️I love your smile user27 나는 너에게 키스하고 싶어 😘😘I want to kiss you y/ngotswings Best album ever!! Can't wait for more!!❤️❤️

2024

Max is twitter user- Redbull gives y/n wings

{Max's POV}

I'm not someone who engages in arguments on twitter but when people kept shipping Y/N with that guy, I don't know why but it was pissing me off!!

So, I might've done something a few months ago in the heat of the moment which was embarrassing when I thought about it too much but now I feel like not so much. I mean, I'm kind of famous, maybe I can use that to my advantage. So, I did something. I asked RedBull to invite her to the Japanese Grand Prix. It's close enough and honestly, I wasn't sure she would agree but she did, so I guess a win is a win.

{Max's POV}

I've met so many celebrities before but non of them have left me feeling this giddy and excited but I've never been a fan of half the celebrities that would come to the races.

Y/N was different, she was so sweet and asked questions which made it seem like she was interested in the sport so I couldn't help but answer those. I mean, we were the hosts.

"Hi, I'm Y/N" she introduced herself. I know I thought. "I'm Max" I replied. "I hear that you're the best right now" she smiled. I felt a blush creep in. "Ah...It's nothing. I just do my best" I mumbled. "No need to be humble if you're talented" she said smiling. I felt my heart race.

She was here for the weekend which meant I got to spend a lot of time with her. She was so much more fun and exciting to be around compared to what I saw on the internet. She was funny and had the cutest little laugh.

As I spent more time with her, I fell in love as if I wasn't already. I mean, I did orchestrate our meeting. "Dude, you have to ask her out" Lando whispered. "What?" I said looking at him. "You've had a crush on her for years now. I remember you rapping her songs even though they aren't in a language you speak since I joined" Lando pointed out. "But wouldn't it be weird" I asked. "What is weird is you inviting her and then staring at her from a far with heart eyes" Lando laughed. "Hey" I grimaced. "Sorry Max, but we all think it's cute. This little crush of yours" Charles interrupted. "Not you too" I whined. "Actually, all of us have a betting pool going" Pierre said. "He wasn't supposed to know" Daniel laughed, shaking his head. "You guys bet on me" I almost screamed. "In our defence, we've never seen you like a love sick puppy. Let us have this" Daniel defended. I shook my head and walked away.

"You look annoyed, everything okay?" Y/N asked. "Yeah" I smiled. "Must be fun, travelling with all these people and getting to do what you love" she asked. "It is. I even get to meet celebrities like this" I said. "I feel like you're more famous than I am. Maybe I should be the one star struck" she laughed. "You know, if you're free" I said twiddling my thumbs. It was now or never, what's the worst that could happen, she would say no and then I would spend the rest of eternity pining for her. "maybe we could go on a date?" I said scratching the back of my head. "I am" she replied. "After I win the race, maybe we could go celebrate?" I suggested. "I would love to celebrate with you" she smiled. Maybe if I died now, I would die happy.

y/n.y/l/n

Liked by 45,890 others Tagged maxverstappen1, schecoperez, redbullracing

y/n.y/l/n Thank you for having me!! Lot of fun watching Max win!!

redbullracing we loved having you!! maxverstappen1 you are always invited back!! Liked by Author y/ngotswings I think I can die happy now user28 OMG!!😱😱😱 user29 ❤️❤️😍😍 user30 Okay...to that one twitter user👀 user31 the second picture is so cute😫😘 user32 예쁜 😍😍pretty user33 사랑해 ❤️❤️love you

Max and Y/N started dating a few weeks after that meeting at the grand prix. Due to their hectic schedules, they weren't able to spend as much time together. Hence, during the summer break, Max was in South Korea, trying to make the most of their time together.

Max was lounging in Y/N's room, when she plopped down next to him. "You know my friend" she began. "Yoongi, the one you're close to" Max finished. "Yeah, he'll be off tomorrow from his duty and he wanted to meet you" she muttered. "Oh" was all that left Max's lips. "I haven't dated anyone in a while because of many reasons" she said looking down, "and oppa, just wants to make sure....you know how older brothers are" she said. "I get it." Max nodded along. "Where are we meeting?" Max asked. "At home, he can't really be out in public without being swarmed" Y/N laughed. "I saw with how many of his pictures are plastered all over the place" Max laughed.

The next day, the table was set. The two of them waited for Yoongi to show up while cuddling on the couch. "Do you think he'll like me?" Max asked, breaking the silence. "He'll love you" Y/N replied while kissing Max's lips. Then the door bell rang, "Must be him" Y/N announced and went to see. She came back with Yoongi in tow. "Hello" Yoongi greeted with his hand out. "Hi" Max replied, shaking his hand. He towered over Yoongi a bit. "How old is he again?" Yoongi asked Y/N in Korean. "The same age as Jungkook, the same month too. Jungkook's in the beginning of the month and he's in the end" she replied. Max was confused as to what they were talking about. "Korea is big on age hierarchy, so I was telling him when you're birthday is" Y/N explained looking at Max's confused face which morphed into one of understanding soon.

They proceeded to dinner, while making small talk. Y/N was happy watching Yoongi getting along with Max, a dream for her honestly. After dinner, while Y/N cleaned up; the two men sat together watching her move fluidly. "I said I could help" Yoongi called out who was now watching her. "You know I'm a control freak. You two should get to know each other" she called out. Yoongi slowly sat down, Max joining soon after.

"You both have busy schedules" Yoongi began, "That's why I try to make as much time as I can. We have a schedule in place, since I'm travelling so much. It's working out" Max quickly replied. "Even then, can you keep her happy?" Yoongi asked. "I'll try my best. I can't imagine her sad or crying and worst because of me" Max shuddered. "Good" Yoongi nodded. "Listen Max, nothing against you but she's like a sister and I don't want anyone to hurt her" Yoongi reiterated. "I promise I won't ever hurt her and if I ever do, which I won't, you know where to find me. Finish me" Max stated. Yoongi smiled patting his back. "I like this one" Yoongi called out to Y/N. Y/N popped her head up, "He said he approves" she called out to Max. "I never said that" Yoongi chided. "Same same" she laughed.

Yoongi soon got ready to leave, "I had a good time. Thank you for the food" he said hugging her. "Thank you for coming. Drive safe" Y/N called out as he was leaving. "Take care of her" Yoongi told Max as he closed the door. Max looked at Y/N; "Great first impression" Y/N stated with her hands around his neck. "I think so too" Max replied kissing her. "I love you" Max stated looking into her eyes. Y/N's eyes widened before she smiled, "I love you too" she said kissing him

217 notes · View notes

ninii-winchester · 1 year ago

Text

But daddy, I love him

Pairing : Dean Winchester X Demon!Reader

Word count : 3.6k

Warnings : angst (if you squint), foul language.

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO COPY MY WORK, TRANSLATE IT OR POST IT TO ANY OTHER PLATFORM. REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED.

Dean was bored. No, he was beyond bored. There were no cases and Sam was, well, being Sam. He had his nose buried in some book and he refused to acknowledge Dean's situation. He kept throwing paper balls at Sam just to annoy him and he finally succeeded when Sam slammed his book shut and glared at his brother.

"What the hell is your problem.?" He snapped.

"Ah so nice of you to notice." Dean started sarcastically, "in case it wasn't obvious. I'm bored."

"If you're bored read some lore books." Sam suggested with a shrug.

"I want to kill my boredom not die myself." Dean rolled his eyes. Sam made a bitch face before answering,

"Go out to a bar or something." He got up from his chair and left the library. Dean perked up,

"Good idea Sammy. I'm heading out." He announced leaving the bunker.

He arrived at the nearest bar, settling on one of the barstools he ordered himself a drink. His eyes search the space, trying to find something or someone interesting, his eyes dropped a figure a few seats to his left. She looked familiar. He looked at her for a few seconds before it clicked, he'd hooked up with her years back.

Now normally he wouldn't be able to recognise anyone he hooked up with several years back, but he remembered her because she looked exactly the same. It had been years and she didn't change even a bit. And the fact that he thought about her quite often. More than he'd like to admit.

He couldn't help but think if she remembered him. He wouldn't know if he didn't ask. Besides he didn't have anything better to do so he approached her.

"Hey." Dean said sitting down beside her.

"Hi." She smiled looking at him. It was hard to decipher if she remembered him or was just being friendly. "I know you." She added making his release a breath.

"So you do remember." He smirked at her.

"Do you really think you're forgettable, Dean?" She questioned with a sly smile on her face. He laughed at her comment, shaking his head.

"I must say, you haven't aged a day since I've last seen you." Dean spoke gulping down his drink. "And it's been like what? Nine years?"

The two had met when Sam had left for Stanford and John had gone God knows where, and Dean was free to do whatever. He was hunting a werewolf. After he killed the creature, he found a bar and ended up her in bed. They spent three weeks together before John called Dean back.

"Nine years." She nodded. "But you haven't aged yourself." She replied glacing at him.

"No really, you're just exactly how I remember you." He said looking at her in amazement.

"Yeah? Above you or beneath you?" She whispered leaning closer to him. He wasn't expecting her to be this straight with him so it caught him a bit off guard.

Dean quickly collected himself and answered with a smirk. "Both."

"Good to know I'm not the only one who still thinks about it." She added and he nodded.

The two had spent weeks together but it wasn't just hooking up. Dean took her out on dates and she cooked for him sometimes. They cuddled, played games, talked about anything and everything, music, movies, dreams. Everything except their personal lives. And they had sex. It was as if they were together but without any labels, and when Dean left there were no hard feelings.

"So what brings you to Kansas?" Dean questioned, looking at her with curiosity.

"Ah you know me, i go where the wind takes me." She replied with a shrug.

"So you mean you're still wandering around?"

She nodded her head before speaking.

"And you're not?" She laughed.

"Nah I've got a place now. With my brother." Dean replied vaguely, not wanting to drag her into the mess called 'hunting life'.

"Cool." She bit her lip, she completely turned her body towards him. "Do you wanna get out of here? My motel is right infront of this place." She added seductively, her hand placed on his chest.

"With pleasure, sweetheart." Dean said helping her stand, he threw a few bills on the counter which were more than enough to cover both their drinks, he pulled her out of the bar.

The moment she entered the room her back was slammed against the door and his lips were attacking hers. She moaned in his mouth, his hands touching everywhere he could. He picked her up and dropped her on the bed. Clothes were ripped and thrown haphazardly. Their kiss was hungry and needy. For the next few hours the only sound that could be heard was of the slapping of his skin against hers, her moans and his groans and the filthy words he spoke that she loved so much.

"Fuck, I thought you were good back then but now you're just..." she trailed off panting, laying on top of him.

"You're one to say." Dean replied, his own breathing ragged. He dragged his fingers on her bare bare soothingly. "Missed this." He spoke after a minutes of silence. "Missed you."

"I did too." She said leaning up to peck his lips. "This is cozy." She added snuggling up to him. He wrapped his arms around her firmly. She laid her head on his chest when she noticed his tattoo. "Hey. I like your tattoo, what does it mean?" She said tracing it with her finger. He froze for a second.

"I don't know actually, I uh.. I saw it at the tattoo shop, and I just liked it." He lied through his teeth. She nodded laying her head back down.

The next morning, Dean woke up by the sound of his phone ringing. He groaned before answering his phone. It was Sam, asking where he was and that he needs to be back. Y/n felt Dean move beneath her and woke up.

"I have to go." He said sitting up, she pouted clutching the sheets to her chest as she watched him put his clothes back on.

"So soon?" Dean chuckled lightly before kissing her.

"We could do this again, for as long as you're here in Kansas." Dean said tying his shoes, sitting on the edge of the bed. She moved closer so she could hug him from behind.

"De." She said resting her head on his shoulder. He turned his head to look at her. She was quiet for a moment, she seemed lost in thought.

"What is it, sweetheart?"

"I meant it when I said I missed you." She mumbled against his shoulder. He tilted his head to look at her better. He gave her a confused look not getting where she was going with this. She unwrapped her arms from his torso and shifted to his side, and straddled his waist. He leaned back a bit so she could sit comfortably. He gripped her hips, holding her gaze. "Dean, those three weeks were the best days of my life. I never thought I'd ever meet you again. In my entire life no one has ever made me feel the way you do, can we.. could we try-" Her heart dropped the moment his grip loosened and he avoided eye contact. She whispered a quiet "oh" and quickly got off his lap.

"Y/n-"

"I get it, I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable." She was embarrassed, she really thought he felt the same.

"You didn't. It's just... it's complicated." Dean said standing up from where he sat on the bed.

"Yeah, no.. I get it." She nodded not meeting his gaze. Before either of them could say anything else, Dean's phone rang again. He sighed before answering.

"Yes Sam, I'm on my way. Yeah." He spoke into the phone before hanging up. He gave her one last glance before walking out of the door.

It had been three days since Dean walked out of her motel room and she felt pretty shitty. She basically asked him out and he outright rejected her. She sat at the small table, nursing a glass of scotch when she heard a knock on the door. She opened the door expecting anyone but Dean, yet here he was.

"Not gonna invite me in, sweetheart?" He asked leaning against the doorframe.

"Find someone else to wet your dick." She rolled her eyes, closing the door but stopped it with his foot.

"C'mon don't be like that. I just want to talk." He said softly, prompting her to open the door wider. She walked back and he entered inside. "Look, I know I was a dick last time you saw me, but like I said it's complicated." She didn't speak or even acknowledge his words. "I would love nothing more than to be with you but it'd be hard." She raised her brow at him and he rubbed his face. "I'm gone, alot. I wouldn't be here everytime you need me. And you, you never stay at one place for a long time. I'm willingly to do this if you're okay with it."

"You really think I wouldn't stay, if you'd ask?" She said walking towards him. "Dean, the last time I felt something, felt alive was nine years ago. I was callous before and after you." She said honestly and her words couldn't have been anymore true. She was a demon. She hadn't felt, feelings for as long as she can remember. But with Dean, she felt everything there is.

"Let's do this." Dean leaned down kissing her softly. For the past three days all he did was think. He still wasn't sure what prompted him to give in to her, but it's time he started living for himself a bit.

Months passed, Y/n had gotten herself an apartment in Kansas, her and Dean had been going strong. They went out for drives, Dean stayed over sometimes, and had phenomenal sex whenver they could. Y/n had yet to visit his "place" since his brother doesn't know about them and she was fine with it. Part of her was relieved Dean couldn't stay longer. She didn't have to keep her "human charade" up.

Unbeknownst to them, both of them were hiding a significant secret from each other. But that was until,

"Princess, you can't go in there, his majesty is in an important meeting-" A measely demon tried to stop her from entering the chamber Crowley has his 'throne' in.

"Shut up before I disintegrate you into nothing." She sneered, her eyes turned completely black. She knew she wouldn't do but that demon didn't know that nor did he need to know. She pushed open the door, her father sitting on his so called throne while two men stood in front of him, their backs to her. She was too angry to recognise the silhouette of the body in front of her. "How many times do I have to tell you not-"

"Darlin' I'm a bit occupied at the moment." The man with the Scottish accent interrupted her. The two men turned around and her eyes widened.

"Dean, What're you doing here?" She questioned. His face seemed like he'd seen a ghost. He was shocked and confused. The other man, she assumed his brother, Sam raised his brows in confusion as well.

"Squirrel, you know my daughter?" Crowley questioned standing up.

"Your daughter?" Dean's jaw clenched as he looked back and forth between the shorter man and his daughter. She was flabbergasted and didn't know if she could get out of this situation. When she saw some demons following her, she confronted them, they revealed her father had sent them to keep an eye on her. The only reason she was here was to tell him to back off.

"You're on nickname basis with the King of Hell?" She joked looking at Dean. He glared at her and her grin dropped.

"What exactly is happening here?" Sam questioned feeling completely out of loop.

"That is exactly what I would like to know!" Crowley demanded looking at Dean and Y/n.

"What is happening is here, I just found out I've been sleeping with the Princess of Hell." Dean gritted his teeth. "You put her up to this, didn't you?" He glared at Crowley.

"She's my daughter, not some hooker. And why would I even do that? We're besties, aren't we?" He said as if they had been childhod buddies. "Wait a minute, you're sleeping with Dean Winchester?" Crowley looked at his daughter, disappointed. "He's a goddamn hunter."

"You say as if it's a bad thing." She mumbled "I didn't know he's a hunter." She shrugged. "I didn't even know his last name until now."

"You've seen him naked, you didn't see his anti possession tattoo?" Sam asked, clearing getting a kick out this situation. Dean glared at his brother.

"Well I asked him about it he said he didn't know what it was, the last time I choked a guy half to death because of that tattoo and turned out it was some nerd book thing, Supernatural or whatever." She countered throwing her hands in the air. Sam shook his head at the mention of the Supernatural books.

"How could you hide this from me?" Dean questioned the look of betrayal all over his face.

"Yeah sure, I could've just walked up to you and said, hey Dean I'm a demon." She rolled her eyes. "You didn't tell me you were a hunter either. Had I told you the truth you would've killed me."

"This is different." Dean replied.

"Alright Romeo Juliet. Whatever it is, this is done here. Y/n, I forbid you to see him." Crowley intervened.

"But Daddy I love him." She replied and the three men present in the room froze.

"I need a drink." Crowley said.

Dean looked at her wide eyed, still processing her words. A demon is in love with him, before knowing her real identity, Dean himself felt something for her but right now he wasn't so sure. Y/n bit her lip, looking at the green eyed hunter.

"We should talk." She said walking over to him. "Privately." She added loudly looking at her father. Crowley rolled his eyes before snapping his fingers, him and Sam disappearing from the room. Dean looked surprised Crowley didn't throw a fit when told to do something. "He loves me." She said as if she had read his mind.

Dean was silent for a moment and the everything came crashing into him at full speed, his supposed girlfriend is a demon, not just some demon but she's the daughter of the King of Hell. He's been sleeping with the Princess of Hell and apparently she's in love with him.

"What the fuck!" Dean exclaimed, extremely pissed.

"Dean, let me explain. I promise I won't lie about anything."

"You're a demon, demons lie all the time, you've been lying to me this whole time." He snapped at her.

"I didn't lie about anything, I just hid one fact. Besides you're the one who approached me at the bar, both times." She felt herself getting defensive. "I'm not like other demons you've met. I'm not evil. Hell I didn't even ask for this." She felt herself tear up.

"I don't even know who you are!" Dean exclaimed. "Who's body are you even wearing."

"It's mine." She replied.

"That's not possible, if you're Crowley's daughter you're atleast over two hundred years old how'd your body even..." he trailed off. "What do you mean you didn't even ask for this?"

"I'm the reason he's what he is." She started. "If you know him closely you'd know his relationship with his mother." Dean nodded urging her to continue, "so when I was born he swore he'd be the parent he never got. He gave me everything he could, loved me too much." Her voice cracked, "When I was fifteen, I was diagnosed with a terminal disease, and we're talking centuries back, I was gonna die. So my father, Fergus made a deal. My life for his soul. Ten year later they took him. He became a demon, kept an eye one me. He was happy that I was alive, When I was twenty seven I got into a fatal accident, I died. And he couldn't bear that so he transformed me with magic or shit I don’t know. He made me a demon. That way I would be with him forever."

Dean hadn't taken Crowley to be a man capable of love, he always thought of him as an evil son of a bitch who was the King of Hell and was there to cause trouble for him and his brother.

"He became the King of Hell because of me, just to give me everything I could ever need, he didn't realise by doing he kept me alive, but over the it made unhappy and lonely. I could never find love, I could never feel a thing. But nine years ago I met you, and I felt something, I don't how or why but I did, then you left." She whispered staring at him. "And then we met again, I thought I could finally get what I wanted, but I was naive to think it would work. I'm sorry Dean I never meant to hurt you, I just thought you're just a guy that I'll outlive and you'd never find the truth."

"This is a lot to take in." Dean said shaking his head. "I'm sorry about what happened to you." She nodded her head not knowing what else to say. "Is it true? What you said?" He asked cautiously.

"About loving you? Yes. I mean I don't know what love feels like, it's been a long time, but you do make me feel like I did when I was human. So yeah I do love you Dean. And I know you might not want anything to do with me after all this. But I'd do anything for you." She replied honestly. She'd been lonely for the past centuries, she's willing to do anything to feel something again.

"I did...uh" he cleared his throat before speaking, "I did feel something for you before this whole ficasso and I'd be lying if I said you being a demon changed it." Dean took a step towards her, "you said you're willing to do anything for this to work?" She nodded her head in affirmation, her eyes filled with hope. "We know how to cure a demon, make them human again."

"You do?" She asked looking surprised.

"Yeah, your father didn't tell you? We almost turned him human!" He chuckled.

"I told you I don't keep up with his evil shenanigans. If I did I'd have known all about you." Dean nodded in understanding.

"So do you-"

"Yes." She didn't even let him finish. "I'd do it."

"It might hurt." Dean warned "and what about your father?"

"Dean, I'm tired of being lonely for centuries. Yes I love my father but he has to let go someday. I can't live like this anymore."

To say Crowley threw a fit when he heard Y/n's decison was an understatement. He was beyond pissed. He went off on Dean, cursing at him, telling him he's always causing problems for him. It took Y/n a while to convince him but he came around when he realised this is where her true happines laid. Even if he was the King of Hell and Dean was his frenemy, he was still Y/n’s father and did gave Dean the 'you hurt her I'll kill you' talk.

The Winchester brothers took her to the Bunker and Sam prepared to cure her. They cuffed her to the chair in the dungeon inside the devil's trap. Sam had gone to bring the human blood, Dean kneeled infront of her. He cupped her face in his hands.

"It's gonna be okay. I'm right here."

"I trust you, Dean." She smiled at him. He placed kissed on her forehead when Sam came back.

Hours later, Y/n was screaming and groaning as they continued to inject her with human blood. Dean felt bad, wanting it to be over soon. When Sam was done, Y/n was sweaty and her head lolled to the side as she threaded on the edge of consciousness.

"Hey, sweetheart." Dean patted her cheek lightly. She slowly opened her eyes, her black eyes now y/e/c, full of life. She gave him a tired smile.

"Hiya, Dean."

Dean moved aside allowing Sam to pour holy water on her and she flinched at the sudden splash.

"Sorry, Y/n. It's Procedure." Sam apologised. She nodded lightly, she would've waved him off but her hands were tied. Her flesh didn't sizzle and the two brothers nodded at each other. She blinked a couple of time to adjust her eyes. Dean uncuffed her hands and helped her stand.

"Hi baby." Dean said holding her waist. She didn't waste anytime, pulling him for a kiss which he gladly returned.

"I didn't need to see that." Sam said loudly making them pull apart. "Congratulations Y/n, you're human now."

"Thank you for helping me, Sam." She told the taller man and he smiled at her.

"Thanking just him?" Dean complained.

"Well I thought I'd thank you some other way but if you just need the words...." Dean didn't let her finish before picking her up and making his way towards his bedroom.

Tags:

@deans-baby-momma @bansheesandbutterflies

337 notes · View notes

missaengg · 7 months ago

Text

Come Back to Bed

12 Days Until Christmas: Dreary Weather Made for Ikemen Advent hosted by @queengiuliettafirstlady and @candied-boys A/N: In honor of Jude's birthday -- Happy birthday, Jude!! Today's prompt is inspired by Jude's 2nd birthday story translation by @judesmoonbeauty found here. I recommend giving it a read, it's so cute 🥰 Featuring: Ikemen Villains Jude Jazza x f!reader Tags: fluff, light humor, some suggestive details, so not edited... Word Count: 872

You don’t want to get up. The bed is soft and warm. The blanket is cozy. You’re wrapped in Jude’s arms, nestled against his broad chest littered with your love bites from the night before. You trace your fingers on some of the marks, flushing when you remember how he twitched in your mouth as you left the dark, red bruises.

It feels like a sin that you have to leave his arms and his bed, but you know you have to if you want to surprise Jude for his birthday. There’s so much to do before he wakes up. Decorations. Baking his cake. Making breakfast in bed. Preparing his present.

You catch a glimpse of the view outside the window. Groaning, you feel your willpower to get out of bed slipping away, hanging on by a tiny sliver. Outside the window, thick, gloomy clouds hang in the glum, gray sky, a howling wind hurtling a torrid flurry of snow through the air.

You want more than anything to stay in bed with Jude. To stay in the warmth of his embrace and close your eyes and go back to sleep, especially in this awful weather, but you also want to create happy memories for him to cherish moving forward instead of remembering the tragic ones in his past.

Sighing, you peek at the man beside you, melting as you watch him sleep. Jude sleeps soundly, his chest rising and falling in an even rhythm. He looks peaceful – something you always wish for him – no trace of exhaustion or a scowl to be found. A fond smile on your lips, you gently brush back his hair, admiring the sharp edges of his face. You suppress the urge to trace the contours of his cheek with your fingers. You don’t want to accidentally wake him early on his day off. You know he can use the rest.

Carefully, you slip out of his arms and wiggle over to the side of the bed. Clutching the covers around your shoulders, you scan the floor for an item of clothing you can quickly wear so your naked body doesn’t freeze upon exiting the blanket. You spy Jude’s shirt from last night on the floor and reach for it lying on your stomach.

“Cold,” a gruff voice mumbles.

A pair of arms snake around your waist, pulling you towards their owner, and you tumble back, finding yourself squeezed in Jude’s arms, your face squished against his chest.

“Jude, I can’t… I can’t breathe,” you wheeze, slapping his arms.

Jude relents the tiniest of bits, loosening his hold just enough for you to tilt your head up and look at him. He looks back with one bleary eye cracked open, a scowl on his face. “Where do ya think yer goin’?”

Avoiding the question, you give him a quick kiss, a brief meeting of your lips. “Happy birthday,” you whisper, smiling at him.

“Yeah, thanks,” he grunts, disinterested. “Ya didn’t answer my question.”

You scrunch your noise. You should’ve known a simple kiss wouldn’t be enough to distract him. “I just need to take care of a few things. You should go back to bed.”

“It’s cold,” Jude complains.

“I can get one of the castle staff members to start a fire in the fireplace.” You make an attempt to squirm out of his constricting embrace, panic clamoring in your heart at how little time you have remaining now that Jude’s awake.

“I wantcha to warm me up.”

“Mmph!” You expel a sharp, muffled exhale when Jude squeezes his arms around you again, this time also hooking his leg over your hips. You thrash vigorously, but he holds you so tight, you can’t escape. Unwilling to accept defeat, you find his nipple with your mouth and bite down, hard.

“The hell?” he yelps, releasing you from his arms. He gapes at you incredulously, his previously bleary, hooded eyes opening wide in disbelief. “What do ya think yer doin’, ya pervert?”

“I was going to make you breakfast!”

“Hah?” Jude furrows his brows. “Why the hell are ya makin’ me breakfast?”

“Because it’s your birthday,” you say, annoyed. “I wanted to surprise you.”

The two of you lock eyes, staring at one another in silence. A stalemate. A battle of wills to see who’ll break the silence first.

Jude breaks the silence first, sighing in exasperation and clicking his tongue. “Don’t need all that silly shit fer my birthday,” he grumbles. This time, he pulls you back into his arms gently, nestling you into his side with his arm under your head. “Now go back to sleep. It’s too early for this nonsense.”

Your heart thrums as you watch his eyes close. Despite the harsh exterior of his words, you know what he really means, that having you by his side meant more than all the birthday things you’ve planned for him. Snuggling into the crook of his shoulder, you also close your eyes, relishing how Jude’s warmth envelops you.

Jude’s right. It is too early for all this nonsense, and with the dreary weather outside, you couldn’t think of a better place to be than in bed in your lover’s arms.

All the other stuff can wait.

#missaengg writes #IkemenAdvent #jude jazza #jude jazza x reader #jude jazza fluff #ikevil jude jazza #ikevil jude #ikemen villains jude jazza #ikemen villains jude #ikevil #ikemen villains #ikevil fanfiction #ikevil fanfic #ikemen villains fanfiction #ikemen villains fanfic

152 notes · View notes

band--psycho · 15 days ago

Text

Poly!141 x Reader - Stop The Wedding (Part 9)

I hope you all enjoy this part 💛

Please be kind, reblogs are always welcome and greatly appreciated! Thank you for all the continued support 💛

Requests are open so if you have any ideas/requests, you're more than welcome to send them over (thank you to everyone who's requested a story so far, I'm working my way through them!)

I do not give permission for any of my works to be copied or translated onto this site or other platforms!

Catch up on the previous part here: Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 /Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 10 / Part 11 / Part 12 / Part 13

Warnings: Feelings of anger, confusion, jealousy, brief mentions of death/being killed/being shot, arguments, shouting, mentions of knives

Your sleep was restless.

Your mind, unable to comprehend what had happened the previous evening.

Phillips defensiveness and avoidance.

Simon’s admission to a question that you’d always yearned an answer from.

You were sure you had fallen asleep at some point from pure exhaustion; but you gained very little rest from it.

Mainly you just spent the night staring up at the ceiling, scenarios running through your mind like a movie.

Scenarios you shouldn’t have been thinking of, where John had told you the truth instead of just breaking up with you; where you all remained together.

Happy.

Blissfully so.

Today was meant to be your first day off of work, but you couldn’t bear it.

Couldn’t bear pretending to be happy when everything in your life was turning into such a mess.

So you did something you very rarely did; you called in sick.

You felt a little guilty, that feeling only getting worse when you heard genuine concern in your manager's voice.

Thankfully, your manager did press the situation too much and just told you to text her to let her know if you’d be in tomorrow.

You hoped you would be; craving for a sense of normalcy within the chaos that was surrounding you.

You made yourself a coffee; stronger than normal, in the hopes that that would keep you at least semi functional throughout the day.

You tried to distract yourself, picking up the book that had been left on the coffee table from the previous night.

That didn’t work.

You tried watching tv.

That didn’t work either.

You'd even tried doing chores with your headphones blaring your favourite songs in your ears, songs that you usually couldn’t help but sing along to.

But even that didn’t work.

You decided that maybe what you needed to do was get out of the house and go for a walk.

You weren’t really sure what Phillip was doing today, seeing as you hadn’t heard from him since he abruptly left after your argument.

Part of you was worried about him.

Part of you was relieved that he wasn’t home yet; it meant that you could work out what you were going to say to him.

How you were going to say the very thing you’d been so excited to plan wasn’t going to be happening, not for now at least.

You quickly scribbled a message on a piece of paper, leaving it on top of the table in the hallway where the key bowl sat.

Your message was simple, ‘Needed to clear my head, gone out for a walk. Text/call me when you’re ready to talk x’

You considered writing ‘I love you’ on the bottom of the note, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it, so you simply left the note as it was, grabbing your keys and walking out of the door.

You didn’t really know where you were walking to, there was no particular place you were heading to, you just put your headphones in and started walking.

~~~~~~~

“You did fucking what?” John practically shouted at Simon, evidently pissed off by what his lieutenant had just said so casually over breakfast in the kitchen.

He couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

Neither could Johnny and Kyle; however they were certainly more calmer than the Captain was at Simons revelation.

He'd just told them all that not only did he see you last night; he also kissed you on the cheek and told you that the only reason they broke up with you was to keep you safe.

“How could you do that, Si?” Kyle asked; his voice softer than what John’s was previously; knowing that he, Johnny and the table, were the only things separating John and Simon.

“Do what?” Simon responded gruffly, leaning against the counter, his mug in hand.

“Kiss her, tell her the truth…how could you confuse her like that?”

Simon mulled over Kyle’s words for a second; pondering his reply.

In his eyes; he hadn’t done anything wrong.

He kissed you on the cheek, a comforting gesture more so than anything else because what else could he do?

You were in pain, he knew you were, was he just meant to ignore that?

He did that once before and hated himself for months after, he couldn’t do it.

Not again.

And he didn’t say anything that wasn’t true about their current feelings; they all still loved her.

He didn’t go into detail about why John had ended things with her; he was intentionally vague knowing that that wasn’t for him to talk about.

“Do you know how shit it was, seeing her in pain again?” Simon retorted, “I kissed her cheek to give her some form of comfort ‘cos she needed it.”

Then he turned his attention to John.

“She wanted the truth last night, I wasn’t about to lie to her, not about that.”

John’s jaw tightened slightly at Simon’s words.

“You had no right to do that!” John snapped back; taking a few steps towards Simon, but quickly being grabbed on the hand by Kyle.

“No right to do what?” Simon challenged, pushing himself off of the counter, “We should've told her the truth when we came back. ”

Johnny, who’d been unusually quiet during this time, rose to his feet, and stood by Simon’s side.

A united front.

“He's right, John,” the Scotsman calmly said; making John's eyes flick between him and Simon.

Johnny's words only made the divide between them all evident; John and Kyle believed keeping you in the dark was for the best, Simon and Johnny believed telling you the truth was better.

“You all know how dangerous telling her the truth is, yet you’d willingly just put her in danger like that?"

“None of us want her hurt, John” Kyle reasoned, squeezing John's hand briefly; hating the look of betrayal that was forming in his blue eyes as they met his own, “And we have no idea where-”

Kyle’s words were cut off when he heard the front door of their house open.

He looked around at Johnny and Simon before his eyes finally landed back on Johns; each one of them clearly wondering the same thing.

‘Who the fuck just got into our house?’

Simon grabbed the knife block, placing it in the centre of the table before grabbing a knife from it; the others doing the same.

John went first; slowly moving towards the archway of the kitchen; before freezing when he heard footsteps walking through the hallway.

He was ready.

Ready to kill whoever it was that had just let themselves into his and his partners home.

That was until he saw you.

And you saw him.

“Pretty rude way to welcome a guest,” You stated, slightly terrified at the sight in front of you; John holding a very large kitchen knife.

“You didn’t think to knock, Y/n?” The captain scolded; perplexed by why and how you even got in here in the first place.

“I did knock; multiple times, no one was answering and I heard shouting,” you explained, your voice portraying that you were calm despite the fact you weren’t entirely so.

“So you thought you’d just let yourself in?” John asked, his eyes narrowing as he looked at you.

“Well the spare key was in the same place, so yeah…” you shrugged, blinking at between John and the knife in his hand, “didn’t think you were gonna come at me with a knife though.”

John didn’t say anything; he just sighed, horrified that had he been more hasty, he could’ve stabbed you before lowering the knife and walking back into the kitchen.

You took his silence to mean you were allowed in, so followed him.

“It’s alright guys,” he said, placing the he’d been holding back into the knife block.

“Y/n?!” you heard Kyle’s voice first; shock evident in his voice and face.

“Fuckin’ Hell Bon,” Johnny sighed, putting his own knife into the block before walking over to you; his eyes instantly noticing how tired you looked.

“Scared the shit outta us,” he continued, pulling you into his arms, expecting for you to try and push him away and being unable to not be shocked when you didn’t.

You didn’t hug him back.

But he didn’t care.

He just cared that you were here and that John hadn’t killed you in the hallway.

He could’ve stayed like that, with you in his arms, it felt right; felt like part of home.

A part of his home that’d been missing.

“Let her breathe, Johnny,” Simon said, moving his hand to Johnny's shoulder.

Johnny let you go pretty much instantly at Simon’s words, his lieutenant snapping him out of the thoughts that were rushing through his mind.

He kept waiting for you to say something about the hug, but you didn’t.

You just smiled at him.

It was a small smile, but a smile nonetheless and a real one, not a fake or forced one.

God he’d missed that.

They all had.

“Why’re you here?” John asked; already knowing the reason for your visit, without you saying anything.

“Think we’ve all got some things we need to talk about,”

John shot Simon a glare at your words.

An action that didn’t go unnoticed by you.

You knew it was the two of them that you’d heard shouting; and you could take an educated guess what it was about.

“Don’t be mad at him for telling me the truth,” you defended Simon; watching as John turned his attention towards you; his eyes softening slightly as his eyes met yours.

“Best you take a seat then,” the captain said as Simon pulled out the closest seat to you, allowing you to sit down.

You were all sitting around the table; like old times.

You felt a familiar ache in your heart as you braced yourself for whatever it was that you were going to be told; knowing the impact the truth could have on you; on them and your relationship with them.

Tagging:

@sunrise-willarive @imdeadontheinside786 @asterionex @pinkyyoshi @yaradigital @euriiverse @eternallyvenus @s-void @rivwritesiguess @lilyalone @salemlovespies @z-wantstowrite @maryrhodalouandted @uraeus56 @skipping-throughlife @backalleytimetravel @fruitymoonbeams-blog @alejandro-vargass-wife @moon-on-the-crest @dasphinxone @magicwriterinspo @lilylovesliterature @tabbslouuformer @disasterofastory @famouspoetrydinosaur @yearninglustfully @therapyneeds @beautifuleaglealpaca @mischievousprincess01 @rite-te-suli-kireysi-ite @s-a-v-a-n-a-34 @ontopofthefridge @rosecastiello @bookworm1767 @harrys-ravioli @hypertail @hahaifolded @felinegaymerl0ver @little-mini-me-world @elita1 @noheadcanons-juststories @nocturnal-nyx @myamazingnerdyness @ilovesoapandnotthebar

150 notes · View notes