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#and if you do that maybe keep it to yourself
fangirl-dot-com · 2 days
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🪡The Obvious String
*part of the reverse trope series*
Paring: Lestappen x MercedesDriver!Reader Genre: SMAU/Fluff/Humor Summary: The invisible string was so visible that everyone missed it but them. What are they? Rivals? Friends? Emotional Support Buddies? But they can't be lovers . . . can they?
*I took a lot of inspo from people on twitter. I think this is the most work I've ever done for a chapter before. the tweets alone took almost two hours to do. I absolutely love lestappen so this is super self-indulgent. but that's why I'm a writer. I hope you all enjoy!*
TAG LIST IS CLOSED
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Lando knew that there was something between the three of them. 
Anyone could see that. Instagram, twitter, TikTok, hell even the Formula 1 app was talking about it. The grid was getting very suspicious, but who could blame them. 
Max wasn’t putting out the fire by pulling his two childhood friends in as they posed for pictures. Charles couldn’t help but flash his God-given dimples at the Dutchman or the Briton girl. And Y/n, she was just as bad, blush on her cheeks every moment she was around them. 
So yeah, everyone was talking. But, no one truly knew what exactly was going on. 
And that’s exactly what Lando was going to find out. (With the help of his fellow 16 drivers.)
His first victim: the French bestie of the non-French man. 
“I have no clue what is going on between the three,” was the first thing that came out of Pierre’s mouth when Lando showed up to his driver’s room door. The poor McLaren driver hadn’t even gotten a word out. 
Lando rolled his eyes. “You have to know something. And you call yourself Charles’s best mate.” 
Pierre threw his hands up. “Non, apparently that is Y/n and Max. I’ve been kicked to the side.” 
The Alpine driver definitely wasn’t bitter or anything. He was actually thankful that you and Max had been able to keep an eye on Charles when he couldn’t. Knowing that the Monegasque had frequent delf-deprecating thoughts, he felt better that he had the two of you. 
Pierre turned to Lando. “Aren’t you supposed to Max’s best friend as well? How would I know something that you don’t.” 
Now that made Lando’s brows furrow. He was supposed to be Max’s best friend. And maybe that’s why he felt a bit peeved to not know what was supposedly going on between you, him, and Charles. His arms crossed in front of his chest. 
“I’m going to get to the bottom of this,” he muttered, turning away to the door. 
The Frenchman scoffed. “Good luck mate. We’ve been trying since 2019.” 
“We?” 
Lewis was not expecting the numerous knocks at his door during media day. The Briton held his breath, willing the unexpected visitors to give up and go away. Yet, a sigh left his lips once the knocking started up again. He pulled himself off of his couch and walked over. 
When the door swung in, two bodies brushed against his side. 
His eye brows raised. “Yes, welcome. Come right in. Oh, thank you Lewis for allowing us to disturb your peace.” 
Lando chewed his lip. “Yeah, thanks man.” 
Pierre took a look around the room. “Thank you Lewis.” 
The papaya clad driver took a seat exactly where Lewis’s had been sitting, which cause Lewis to glare at him. 
“And why are the two of you here?” 
Pierre huffed, looking at the pictures on Lewis’s wall. 
“Ask him.” A finger pointed at Lando, making the Briton look up from his phone. 
“Oh yeah. Do you know. . . ”
Once again, Lando couldn’t even finish his sentence because Lewis interrupted him. 
“No, I don’t know what’s going on between Y/n, Max, and Charles. Honestly Lando, no one knows and I don’t think they know either.” 
Lando leaned his head back and groaned. 
“But how could they not? They all make goo-goo eyes at each other. And it’s worse on the podium.” 
“At least you haven’t bit on the podium with two-thirds of the groups. It’s insufferable man. They can’t go without talking about each other for more than a few moments.”
A laugh left Pierre’s lips. “Oh yeah. It’s always ‘Y/n was so strong on corner 2’ or ‘Pierre, did you see how Max overtook Checo?’ And then ‘Oh Charles was told to stay behind again. He really needs to ignore them.’ It makes me want to puke every time.” 
Lando scratched his chin. “Now that I’m thinking about it, you’re right. It was like how Max and Charles completely ignored me in China. They kept looking at Y/n below!” 
The last few words had a slight whine to them. Charles had been quick enough to catch Checo on the last lap, and placed himself in P3 after Lando. 
The Alpine driver looked lost. “Lewis, you’ve been Y/n’s teammate for almost three years. How can you not know anything.” 
All he got was a glare back. 
“Like I said, Gasly, I don’t even think they know something is going on. It’s pathetic honestly.” 
Lando put his head in his hands. “She must be pining. Don’t you two do girls night or at least something like that?” 
“Lando, she spends all her free moments with Max and Charles. How can she be pining to me if she doesn’t leave their side.” 
It was quite for a moment before Lando snapped. 
“I’ve got it. If we want grid gossip, we got to go to the source.” 
“No Lando, I don’t know if Max, Charles, and Y/n are in a secret relationship. And I don’t think they think of each other like that.” 
The groan that Lando let out was so loud it made a couple of people look their way. George, the tall, lanky Briton was set to take Lewis’s seat for 2025 after two years in Williams. The driver pool was going crazy. 
Logan was returning to Formula 1 with HAAS after a brief sabbatical and would be a teammate pair with Oliver Bearman. Nico and Daniel of all people were going to Audi. Liam was set to take the second Red Bull seat. And Carlos, well, no one really knew, but rumors said that he was going to return with Audi when they caught up with the regulations in 2027. 
The McLaren driver was close to pulling his curls out. 
“But George.” 
Lando was now full on whining. George seemed exasperated and shrugged. 
“We’re not that close anyway. We aren’t even teammates yet. And you knew how she yelled at me that one time that my car scraped a hole in Max’s car.” 
The group of four winced at the memory. 
Max had just finished yelling at George, calling him every name under the sun. And then you had shown up to double it. The Williams, well, now Mercedes driver, was thankful that Charles had shown up to drag the two of you away. 
Lewis looked a bit pale. 
“Yeah. I don’t think she’s fully forgiven me for Silverstone 2021.” 
Lando turned to Lewis. “But they were all still fighting at that point. Remember the whole unfollowing they did in 2019?” 
Pierre snorted. “Of course we remember. That doesn’t mean that they didn’t still care about each other. You know that Charles and Y/n were the first ones to congratulate Max after he won the championship in Abu Dhabi. And then her and Max practically tackled Charles in Japan in 2022. I don’t even want to imagine when Y/n wins her championship.”  
Lando ran a hand down his face. 
“Well, if Pierre doesn’t know, Lewis and George don’t know. Then who would?” 
George cocked his head. 
“Have you asked Daniel? You know that he and Max are pretty close.” 
Lando’s eyes widened. “Why did I not think of that. George I could kiss you!” 
George’s face scrunched. “No thank you. I don’t want to be anywhere near your lips.” 
Lewis was already at the door, wanting to get a move on. “Let’s go. George you’re coming too. If we get to the bottom of this, you’re going to have to learn how to deal with all three.” 
A shudder ran down George’s spine. He did not want to imagine the horror of sharing a podium with all of them. He’s heard enough stories. 
When they got to Daniel’s motorhome, the Australian was peacefully talking with Oscar. Lando had run up to them and was currently hunched over, trying to catch his breath. 
“Do,” inhale, “you two,” exhale, “know if,” inhale and heave, “there’s something,” exhale, “going on,” inhale, “with. . .”
Daniel sighed. “Max, Charles, and Y/n?” 
Lando shot up, eyes full of hope. Lewis nodded next to him. 
“Yes! Do you?” 
The older Aussie wanted to smirk as he saw hope fill the group’s faces. He nodded a bit, and Lando looked like someone told him that his birthday and Christmas had come early. 
“No.” 
The McLaren driver fell to the ground. Pierre smacked Daniel on the shoulder. 
“Why would you do that!” 
Now Lewis was the one whining. 
“Because it was funny. Mate, they’ve been like this since Max joined in 2018. Even then, it was worse than whatever this is.” 
The Mercedes driver of the group let out another groan for what felt like the millionth time in that hour. 
“Max was insufferable in 2018. Taking his sim everywhere so that he could game and race with them online. And the multiple phone calls. I think Max partied harder for Charles’s F2 champion win and Y/n’s F3 championship than his first race win.” 
“Ok, but that’s kind of cute.” 
All eyes landed on Oscar. 
The younger Aussie’s eyes bulged. “What?” 
Daniel pointed a finger at him. “If Max hears you say cute in any way, shape, or form that is distinctly near his name, he will come after you.”  
An audible gulp was heard. 
Lando had begun to pace. “Well, if I don’t know, Pierre doesn’t know, Lewis doesn’t know, George doesn’t know, Oscar doesn’t know, and Daniel doesn’t know, then who would know?”
Everyone looked a little lost. 
“Aha!” 
The two papaya drivers jumped out of reflex. Lando’s head turned violently toward Lewis. 
“What!” 
He held his phone up with a contact showing. 
“We call Seb.” 
“Lewis, like I’ve told you. Charles hasn’t told me anything.” 
For the sake of everyone around in the paddock, they held in their groans. 
“But Seb, you were practically Charles’s grid-dad. You have to know something!” Daniel said, face nearly in Lewis’s phone, as if Sebastian could hear him better. 
A sigh was heard through the speaker. 
“Charles was nothing less than a terror in 2019. I think the calmest anyone has seen him was 2018 when his car didn’t go fast enough for him to catch anyone.” 
Lewis hummed. “That’s true.” 
“Because everyone there should know that 2019 was the year of them. Every headline was all about them. And don’t get me started on when they had that big fight. I had to hear everything about it every. single. weekend.” 
Daniel nodded. “It was the same with Max. If Fernando was here, he could say the same for Y/n since she was still racing with Alpine at the time.” 
Oscar had completely forgotten about Fernando being Y/n’s teammate for half a season before she made the jump to Williams to replace Kubica to race alongside Nicholas Latiffi. The young Aussie had looked up to the older female when he was making the decision to leave Alpine. She had personally congratulated him on the move and gave him a wink. Well, had tried to before Max and Charles dragged her away. 
Sebastian had gone quiet over the phone. 
“Has anyone actually asked them if they’re together or not? Instead of just asking everyone else about a matter that deeply involves the three of them?” 
Their silence had answered for them. 
Lando grabbed Lewis’s phone out of his hand. 
“Thank you Seb! We’ll get right on it!” 
“Hey!” 
It was too late and Lando had already hung up and was passing the phone back to his fellow Briton. 
“Guys, we can’t ask them.” 
“What!” Pierre yelled. 
“Think about it. If we just go and ask, they’re going to make excuses. We won’t get a right answer.” 
“Lando, you’re being unreal. Let’s just go ask them,” George said. 
“Ask them what?” 
The six of them jumped out of their skin at the new arrival of a familiar voice. Lando froze before slowly turning around, to come face to face with you, Charles, and Max, all looking cozy for media day. 
“Uh, nothing?” Lando squeaked out, eyes darting around so he wouldn’t have to look at the trio. 
Max snorted. “Doesn’t sound like nothing to me.” 
He took a sip of his Red Bull. 
Daniel looked panicked. “We were just wanting to ask, uh, Lewis and Nico if they had forgiven each other yet?” 
“Hey!” 
Charles raised his eyebrows. “Why do you seem so unsure? And Lewis is right there mate. Kind of rude to talk about his problems in front of him.” 
“Thank you Charles.” 
The Monegasque hummed as he turned to Max. His mouth dropped. 
“Max, I thought I told you to stop drinking that stuff. It’s bad for your heart.” 
The Dutchman shrugged and took another sip, just to spite the Ferrari driver. You rolled your eyes, knowing a playfight was just around the corner. 
Oscar’s eyes narrowed as he looked over the trio’s choice of outfits. 
“Y/n, are those Charles’s cloud pants? Charles is that Max’s cap? And Max is that Charles’s Monza hoodie.” 
The arguing that was beginning to build between the two male drivers suddenly stopped. Your eyes widened as you jerked your head toward them. 
Sure enough, Charles’s hat was not bright red and it had the number 1 on it, something that Charles lost to Max in 2023. You leaned back to look at the hoodie Max was wearing, and indeed it had the iconic podium scene on the back of it. The two males looked toward your pants. The bright white clouds seemed to stare back at them. 
“Uh, yes?” you asked. “But we share clothes all the time. It’s not a big deal.” 
Max and Charles nodded before Charles was hit with a thought. 
“Oh, chéri, I forgot to tell you that your dry cleaning was picked up a few hours ago and is back at the hotel,” he said as he looked at his phone, completely missing the six pairs of wide eyes that were now looking at him. 
Max smirked as he leaned over and kissed the top of Charles’s head. 
“Thank you schatje.” 
This time, a whine came from you. 
“I’m being left out,” you muttered, crossing your arms. However, the two were not having it and quickly brought you into their arms. 
Lando stared, blinked, and stared some more before he rubbed his eyes. He completely believed that the three would disappear when his hands lowered, but he caught Max in the middle of kissing your lips. 
“WHAT?” 
You turned back to the group. 
“Are you all fine?” 
Lewis threw his hands up. “I’m done. Call me when we need to go to the media.” 
The door opened quickly, allowing Lewis to slip out. 
Pierre looked a bit pale. “What? When? Where? Why?”
Charles shrugged. “We’re together. After my championship. The hotel. We love each other.” 
Daniel sighed. “So you’ve been together since 2022?” 
Max rolled his eyes. “No.” 
“But Charles just said his championship!” Oscar explained, hands outstretched. 
It was your turn to smile. “His F2 championship. We’ve been together since 2017.” 
A long sigh came from Lando. “I think I need to sit down.” 
Daniel’s door swung back open, revealing Lewis once again. He also seemed out of breath. His hands were on his knees for a bit until he straightened back up. 
“You’re telling me that you three have been together SINCE 2017!” 
You nodded. “Yes.” 
Pierre pouted. “But what about 2019?” 
The three of you winced in a synchronized matter. With a quick look, Max was the one to sigh. His hands dug into the front pocket of the cozy, black hoodie. 
“Long story short, we took a small break until Y/n won in Brazil. We all got our heads out of our asses and apologized.” 
Oscar rose an eyebrow. “Then why haven’t you followed each other back on Instagram.”
A snort from you made the two men chuckle. You simply shrugged your shoulders. 
“Too lazy? We don’t feel like breaking the internet.” 
Lando took a seat on Daniel’s couch. “Why haven’t you told anyone?” 
Charles ran a hand over his face. “Lando, we race in countries where people are killed for being homosexual. We can’t risk anything.” 
The air suddenly took a solemn turn as the McLaren driver nodded, truly taking in the situation. Charles chewed his lip in anxiety, while Max picked at his fingers. You were looking at the group. 
“You won’t tell anyone right?” 
Suddenly, everyone felt bad for wanting to find out. They had pushed the three to confess something that they might not have wanted people to know about at that time. What a group of friends they were. 
Lando hung his head. “We won’t. I’m sorry that we asked about it before you three were obviously ready to tell someone.” 
Another snort left Charles’s lips as his hand rested on his mouth. Max had a shit-eating grin on his face, you had one to match. 
Pierre looked at them with a skeptical expression. “Something to tell us?” 
Max’s shoulders raised. “People know. You aren’t the first ones to know.” 
Lewis sighed, shoulder sagging. George put a hand on the older Briton’s shoulder, trying to offer some comfort. Lando looked close to losing it. His hazel eyes narrowed at the trio. 
“Then . . . who knows?” 
Charles’s eyes looked up a bit as he started to count. 
“Uh, Christian, Fred, Toto, Kimi.” 
You pulled out his fingers and counted.  
“Jensen, Mark, uh, Nico.” 
Lewis looked like he wanted to pass out. 
Max smirked. 
“Oh, and Seb.” 
There was silence amongst the group. 
“Oh he is so dead.” 
“Lando you can’t kill Seb!” 
“Sorry Lewis, but this is his fault!” 
“Calm down Lando. You’ll lose your seat.” 
“Oscar, I just want to talk to Seb. Who has his phone number?” 
“I am not giving you his number Lando.” 
“I’m not asking you Lewis. Daniel, I know you have it.” 
You smiled in Max and Charles’s arms as Lando started to get physical, trying to grab Daniel’s phone. 
You leaned up, immediately being engulfed in Max’s aftershave. “Should we stop them?” 
Charles leaned a bit forward to look at his two lovers. A soft smile formed on his face, before a smirk replaced it. 
“Nah.” 
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thestarkinternship · 2 days
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10 Minutes
Bucky Barnes x Female Reader: One Shot (Smut)
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Summary: Bucky is a little desperate for some alone time during one of Stark's parties, and ten minutes is all he needs.
Word Count: 2.2k (no mention of Y/N)
Warnings: Profanity, drinking, unprotected sex, praise, oral (male receiving), slight exhibitionism (bathroom at a party), MINORS DNI!
A/N: I kinda took a break from writing because I had a lot of unfinished fics, but I'm slowly starting to get back into it. And thank you for 300 followers on here! I can't believe there's that many people of you who actually like my writing :)
Masterlist
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“That’s gotta be what, your sixth drink?” You giggled, watching as Bucky polished off another glass, “don’t you wanna slow it down a little?”
With a smirk, he set the empty crystal on the countertop. “Worried I’ll have too much and do something to embarrass you, sweetheart?”
“You could never embarrass me, James,” you rolled your eyes, “and you also can’t get drunk.”
“S’not gonna stop me from trying,” he grinned, “now come here..”
Wrapping his arm around your waist, he pulled you into his side before you could give an answer. Not that you minded – you didn’t need an excuse to be as close to him as possible. You nestled your head in the crook of his neck, breathing in the heavy aftershave that he wore. It was your favourite scent. The musk from it mixed with the spice of the whiskey on his breath as it fanned across your cheeks. It was intoxication in the best way possible, superseding the several glasses of liquor that you’d consumed yourself.
“There is something else, if you think you can handle it.”
In your own little bubble, it was easy to forget that the two of you weren’t alone. Breaking your gaze away from Bucky, you saw one of your teammates making his way over to you with a delicately engraved bottle in his large hand.
“Hi Thor,” you smiled politely, “what is that?”
He held the bottle up proudly. “Asgardian liquor, the finest brewed there. It puts everything here on Midgard to shame.”
“I bet.” You chuckled.
“I’ll take that as a challenge.” Bucky grinned, stepping away from you momentarily to join Thor and some of the others in a round.
You folded your arms across your chest as you shook your head. The super soldier serum might stop his body from reacting to alcohol in the typical way, but it did have a particular effect on Bucky. You couldn’t help but notice how he always seemed to get that little bit more handsy with you. Maybe it was a placebo effect, or maybe that was just an excuse to keep you close to his wandering hands.
Either way, barely twenty minutes had passed before your observation was proven true.
Your shoulder leaned against the back wall as you watched Steve and Tony play pool when Bucky joined you.
“Where’ve you been?” he murmured, “I was looking for you.”
His metal hand drifted up your side, tracing the hem of your shirt and slipping underneath to graze your hip. The metal raised goosebumps on your warm skin, and you shivered further back into his arms.
“Bucky, stop… what if someone sees?” You whispered.
Bucky didn’t ease up, rubbing soft circles on your hip as he drew you in closer. “It’s okay, nobody’s looking at us.”
You glanced around. The loud music masked your hushed whispers, and the addition of Thor’s Asgardian liquor had worked wonders on the team of superheroes. With all of their defences down, no one had noticed the way the pair of you had sidled off to the side.
“We shouldn’t risk it.” You whispered, reaching for his hand and stopping it in its tracks.
“Let’s get out of here, just for a little bit,” he leaned in, pressing his lips to your jaw. The gentle ghost of his breathy murmurs in your ear sent your heart racing, “ten minutes, that’s all I need.”
“Are you really suggesting that we hook up in the middle of the party?” Your head tilted in a mixture of curiosity and surprise.
“Why not?” Bucky pouted. His lips looked so damn kissable when he did that. The thought of giving in, tugging his bottom lip between your teeth in a frantic need to satisfy the urge that you were starting to feel right now was starting to not seem like such a bad idea.
“Because…” Your voice trailed off in search of a compelling reason. Even the slightly hint of doubt would signal a dead giveaway to Bucky that you were more than willing to give in. And the worst part of it was the stupid grin on his face that told you he knew this too.
“Because?” He taunted, his smirk growing wider.
“Because…” The agitation in your voice grew as you struggled.
Bucky chuckled darkly, letting his right hand meet his other at your waist. He turned you slightly, until your back was against his chest. Grip tightening, he pulled your hips back into his. Pressed flush against him, you became all too aware of the way his tight, muscular body felt against yours. And that wasn’t the only thing.
“Bucky, are you-“
“Painfully.” He whispered, leaving another soft kiss just below your ear. Your head fell back to rest against his shoulder. Lips parting, a quiet whimper escaped from them. Bucky  tucked a curl behind your ear to lean in better, “What was that that I just heard, hm? You can resist all you like, doll. But your body’s betraying you.”
He was right of course, but you bit your bottom lip anyway in an attempt to prevent yourself from letting another sound slip. The more you tried to hide your growing desires, the more Bucky persisted. His hand slid down your hip to the hem of your skirt. He played with the material, gently grazing his fingers across the back of your thigh that was now exposed to him. Instinctively, your legs clenched as he dared to venture higher.
Bucky chuckled under his breath. “Bite your lip all you want. But what are you gonna do when you start to soak through your underwear and all over that pretty outfit of yours?”
Your face burned red as your gaze immediately fell downwards. Searching the front of your dress as discreetly as you could, your shoulders relaxed when you found that you hadn’t. But your reaction alone was enough to let Bucky know that you considered it a real possibility.
“Did I have you worried there for a second?” he mocked, “You know I’m right. Come on… ten minutes.”
“Ten minutes.” You said through gritted teeth.
“Yes ma’am.” He smirked, gripping your hand and pulling you out of the room.
It was a wonder that you made it to the bathroom at all. His hands were everywhere. Running through your hair, on your waist, cupping your cheek. But yours were the same, only pulling away just long enough to fumble with the bathroom door. It pushed open, and you both crashed through.
With a hand on his chest, you pushed him back to lean on the door. His eyes widened in at your sudden control, but who was he to stop you? Ripping the hand towel down off the rail by the sink, he dropped it to the floor to cushion you as you sank to your knees in front of him. You toyed with the zipper of his jeans, slowly pulling them and his boxers down in one as you pressed soft kisses to each inch of his bare skin that you exposed.
Bucky let out a tormented groan from the back of his throat as your tongue teased up to the head of his cock. He looked down at you and nearly buckled at the sight. Your hand gripping his thigh, hair messy and lipstick smudged. He watched your wet lips twist into a soft smirk that was so close to wrapping around him.
“When you said painfully, I had no idea this is what I’d done to you.” You cooed, innocently sliding your palm up and down his length.
Bucky hissed at the sensation and reached out to tilt your face up to look at him. His fingers were firm on your cheeks. “We’re down to nine minutes. You gonna keep talking with that sweet mouth, doll, or do you want to put it to good use?”
He didn’t have to ask twice. His tip grazed the back of your throat in one smooth motion. But you didn’t let it rest. You moved your head back and forth, letting your tongue trace over every vein. Bucky’s hand slid up from your jaw to cup your cheek, pulling you further around him as he met your movements with shallow thrusts. His view of you faded as his eyes squeezed shut, revelling in the overwhelming pleasure you were bringing him. The two of you might’ve set a time limit on this brief rendezvous but fuck he could let you go on like this forever.
Head falling back against the door with a soft thud, he growled. The animalistic sound ripped through his gritted teeth as he tugged your head back and off him. Pre cum lingered on your lips as you licked them clean.
Reaching for your hands he helped you to your feet and wasted no time in pressing his lips to yours. He walked you backwards until your bumped into the sink. Reaching for your thighs, he lifted you up to rest on the countertop. Your skirt slipped and bunched up around your waist as you wrapped your legs around his waist. He leaned in, nudging himself between your legs. Gentle whines slipped out from your trembling lips as he brushed over your wetness.
“Bucky…” You begged softly.
“I know, baby, I know,” he murmured, sliding your underwear over to one side, “seven minutes.”
Bucky pushed his hips forward to meet yours, burying himself completely in you. His head dropped to the crook of your shoulder and his lips met your neck. Your arms curled around his broad back, scrunching up the material of his shirt as you clung desperately to him. Soft grunts from him reverberated up into your ear as he pulled out of you only to get sucked right back in by your tight cunt. With one hand on your hip and the other on the edge of the sink, he kept you in position to take it all. Every stroke inside of you had you clenching down around him. His knuckles turned white as his fingertips pressed harder into your skin with each sharp thrust.
“Such a good girl, letting me fuck you with all our friends in the next room,” he muttered between delicate nips at the skin just below your ear, “and you had the nerve to act like you didn’t want this just as much as I did.”
Your hands moved up through his hair and down to the sides of his face as you leaned in, lips met his in a needy fashion. The kiss that followed was all-consuming, swallowing any quiet moans that might give the pair of you away. But shallow breaths slipped out here and there as Bucky rolled his tongue over yours in passionate frenzy.
He pulled on your hip until your body slipped closer to the edge of the sink, and you let out a small gasp. As Bucky’s lips parted from yours, he smirked at the fucked-out haze that glazed over your eyes as his cock rutted up deeper inside of you. As he quickened the twitch of his hips, your thighs tightened around his waist.
“Keep that up, and I won’t be able to pull out, doll.” He grunted softly.
Your brows furrowed as your head leaned back in a wave of pleasure. You weren’t listening to a damn word he was saying right now. Bucky’s hand left your hip briefly to tilt your head back to him.
“Is that what you want? Want me to fill you up and fuck it back into you hard enough that it doesn’t leak out for everyone to see?”
Too out of it to verbally respond, your thighs gave him a light squeeze and answered for you. Bucky’s hand let go of your face and reaffirmed its position on your hip as he then set a ruthless pace. Your head slipped forwards to rest on his shoulder. Burying your face in the crook of his collarbone, your moans vibrated against his throat, driving him crazy. You let your body go limp in his hands as he worked to bring you both a release that the pair of you desperately craved.
Two more thrusts was all it took to bring you both over that delicious edge. His metal hand nearly snapped a porcelain chunk out of the counter with how hard he was gripping it when he came. But you were only the same, with your thighs shaking and breathing heavy. You fluttered around him with every beat of your heart, squeezing every drop of come out of his cock that he had to give you. He lazily rocked his hips a couple more times, coating every inch inside of you.
Bucky’s hands released your body from his tight grip as he gently brushed strand of messy hair out of your face, but he kept himself seated.
“You can’t tell me that wasn’t worth it.” He breathed.
Your pink cheeks pinched into a soft smile. “Maybe it was.”
“Maybe, huh?” He raised an eyebrow, not hesitating to lean into your neck.
“What are you doing?” You giggled as you felt his gentle kisses.
“What? I’ve still got one minute left.” He grinned playfully, trailing kisses up your cheek now as well.
“Bucky.” You whined, feeling his cock teasingly plunge deeper inside of you. Your sensitive body could barely handle any more.
“Fine,” he smirked, and slowly eased himself out of you, “but when this party’s over, I’m done holding back.”
709 notes · View notes
ceilidho · 3 days
Text
take me home, country road
[ao3]
You have nothing on your person apart from a hastily packed suitcase and the dress you came into town wearing, on the run from trouble back home. Too bad John's missing a bride that matches your description. Or: the 1800s (mistaken) mail order bride au (chapter 12) [note: trigger warning for a pretty rough spanking scene with a belt and minimal aftercare. if you need to, you can skip to the midway point (there's a line between the first half and second).]
first chapter >> last chapter
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He keeps your hands tied behind your back on the ride home.
All that does is confirm the fact that he must know. Graves must have tracked him down or perhaps he was approached by someone who did consider your sudden arrival in town suspicious. Why else would the sheriff chase you all the way into the mountains on horseback and then take you back with him? He would’ve within his rights to leave your thieving self to wander alone in the woods and succumb to the elements.
John doesn’t say a word the first hour of the ride back. You can feel the anger emanating from him though. He almost shakes with it. His anger somehow upsets you more than whatever is left to come. 
“Anytime you wanna start talkin’, I’m all ears,” John finally says, breaking the silence. 
You keep your lips pressed together, stubbornly silent. There’s no use giving yourself away before you’ve learned how much he knows. You haven’t built this life of yours with loose lips. 
“I don’t know what in the Sam Hill has gotten into you,” he continues, and his voice is cobblestone tread rough in the night. “Running off all by yourself. There ain’t nothing out in these parts except outlaws and highwaymen. There are men out here that’d love to get their hands on a woman like you—not even a knife to defend yourself with. You haven’t even got a scrap of food on you, never mind water. You’d’ve been dead in a week if the men out here hadn’t picked you off themselves.”
His words make your stomach ache. You know that there are worse things out there. A thousand gruesome ways to die. You’re less of a lady than John might think—you’ve heard stories. You’ve brushed close to that reality yourself. You wonder how he’d take it if you were to tell him about what had happened back east. 
Maybe running away this time hadn’t been your smartest idea, but it had been your only. You can’t fault yourself for the instinct to survive. 
“I know,” you mumble, dropping your chin to your chest. 
“You gonna explain to me why you stole my horse and ran off in the first place?” he asks. 
It’s the strangest interrogation you’ve ever heard of—sitting on the same horse with your back to the man questioning you and your hands tied together at the wrists. You wonder if you leaned back whether you’d feel his heart beating furiously in his chest. 
You remain mulishly silent though, reticent to answer the question.
“Maybe I’ve been spoiling you,” he continues, trying to rationalize it to himself. “After the fuss you put up those first few days, I thought a bit of structure and discipline would do you well, and it did. Giving you a bit of slack was my mistake.”
You frown at that. Those don’t sound like the words of a man with any knowledge of the circumstances leading to you running off. He might not even have come across Graves at all in the hours since the man made his appearance in the general store. Otherwise, you can’t imagine how he wouldn’t make the connection. 
Still, you can’t make yourself come right out and say it, even though every iota of your being aches to let the truth out. Call it nerves overpowering the need to be truthful and good. You vacillate between honesty and self-preservation, but each avenue feels like being dropped into a nest of vipers. 
But he doesn’t know. He doesn’t know. If he knew, he wouldn’t question you like this. It’s a boon you can’t give up, not yet. Not when the thought of his inevitable righteous fury fills you with dread and self-loathing. 
“I don’t have to explain myself,” you spit out suddenly, and it’s not you saying those words but something ugly and sad in you. “You’re not my owner.”
“I damn sure am your husband though,” John growls, winding his free hand around your hair to tug you back into his chest. “And I know these parts far better than you, little miss. Beyond running off on me for no good reason when I thought we put your reticence behind us, you went and put yourself in danger the likes of which you couldn’t even fathom.”
“I’m not an idiot,” you snap. “I know what men are like.”
“You’re telling me you pulled that stunt knowing what kinda danger is out there in the woods?”
“I wasn’t thinking!”
“I know you weren’t,” John grunts. “That’s the issue.” 
The rest of the ride home is uncomfortably quiet. John keeps one hand clamped on your waist while the other holds the reins of both horses, the two walking alongside each other back down the trail towards the house. The ride home is a lot longer than the ride out into the woods since John refuses to let either of them go faster than a slow trot while your hands are tied behind your back. 
He snorts in derision at your suggestion to undo your binds. “That eager for your punishment?” 
That gets you to zip your lips. 
When you get drowsy, John tips your head back and makes you sip from his waterskin. His hand fits carefully around your throat to hold your head in place, his fingers curling around to just graze the nape of your neck. Your throat pulses under his palm when you swallow. It’s far too intimate for how restless you feel, damn near shaking out of your skin, but it briefly shushes the voice in your head until he pulls his hand away. 
A shadow under the doorway of the house startles you at first before it takes a step into the faint light of the setting sun and you recognize the bristly blond of Simon’s shorn head and the red bandana shrouding the bottom half of his face. The tension ebbs back into you when you realize with creeping humiliation that the black horse you rode home on must belong to him. 
He watches the two of you approach with predictable disinterest, his eyes betraying nothing. The shame is excruciating. 
John brings the horse to a halt some feet from Simon, not bothering to greet him. You wonder if it’s the anger choking him or if this is just routine, men trading favors in silence lest a word in gratitude break the spell. After dismounting himself, John helps you down, all but picking you up and lifting you off the horse. 
Simon doesn’t say a word to either of you when he takes the reins from John’s hands, giving him only a curt nod and you a cursory glance before leading his horse away to mount. He doesn’t spare you a backwards glance before taking off back towards town. You watch him over your shoulder while John guides you up the porch steps and into the house, until the shape of him disappears into the horizon. Then the door shuts behind you. 
Alone now, your attention turns back to John. He stares down at you consideringly, a hand planted on the door he just shut until he lets it fall to his side. You can see the gears turning in his mind, weighing something out. 
It wouldn’t be right to call it anticipation; it’s not quite dread either. 
“I don’t make idle threats, you know,” he says, apropos of nothing. 
His words make you frown until you glance down to find him undoing his belt. Your blood turns to ice. He tugs the thick strap until it comes sliding out of each loop around his waist. The buckle rests heavy in his palm, thick fingers curling around it, and when he bends the belt in two, you already know that he intends to follow through with his threat from earlier, the one you said you’d gut him for.
“I’ll scream,” you warn, heart in your throat. It almost chokes you. “I mean it. I’ll scream like the devil.”
“Don’t go makin’ no empty threats now, darlin’,” he says in a low voice, almost taunting. You can hear the hard edge in his voice though. It’s not something he craves, but he’ll take it. 
“You touch me with that thing and I’ll never forgive you.” 
John’s eyes go hard. “I’ll just have to take that chance.” 
And then he’s on you.
He hooks an arm around your waist when you try to rush past him back out the door and it forces the breath out of you. 
You struggle as best you can with your hands tied behind your back, trying to wriggle out of his hold even as he heaves you up into his arms and climbs the staircase towards the bedroom. The steps creak under the added weight of you in his arms. The screams come tearing from your throat, ripping your vocal cords and nearly sending you into a coughing fit. 
“Let—me—go—” you shriek, kicking out wildly, hoping to catch something that’ll make him lose his balance. 
“All that squirmin’ ain’t making me feel more merciful,” he growls. 
John kicks the bedroom door open with his foot when he reaches the top of the staircase. The room looks ominous without the oil lamp lit, the shadows growing in the corners swallowing up the end table. The bed is just as you made it this morning, the sheets pressed tight and neat, and you only get a second to take that in before he marches towards the bed and throws you down onto it.  
You hit the bed hard, bouncing slightly. He sits down heavily enough to jostle you and when you try to roll away on instinct, a hand catches you by the bicep and pulls you back. He hauls you across the bulk of his thighs this time, far different from your first meeting back in the sheriff’s office all those weeks ago. Your feet don’t even touch the floor this time around, dangling in the air and flailing for purchase. 
“You brute—you bastard!” you screech.
“I’m not gonna be as charitable this time,” John says, yanking your dress up and your drawers down until your bare bottom is exposed. You gasp at the cold air, murmuring something like please, please, please under your breath. “Even if I knew why it was you decided to run off, that doesn’t excuse the fact that you did. You coulda been hurt or worse out there, darlin’, and I’d never have forgiven myself. I’m gonna make sure the lesson sinks in this time.”
He folds the leather belt to hold it in one hand, leaving the other to pin you down over his thighs, making sure you don’t wriggle out. The leather is cool at first when he drags it over your butt. It makes your breathing pick up. It’s so gentle that you can almost trick yourself into thinking that it’s all he intends to do. 
The first lash comes so quick that you barely register it. The second knocks the wind out of you, and then the pain sets in. 
It stings something fierce. Where his palm hurt that first time he bent you over his desk and spanked you, the belt burns. It goes deep and it lingers when he pulls the leather away from your stinging bottom. 
“Hurts like the dickens, don’t it?” John asks, not bothering to wait for confirmation before bringing the belt down again. “You’re lucky it’s only ten this time.”
You howl into the bedsheets, eyes tearing up and spilling down your cheeks. When you try to cover your ass with your bound hands, John grabs them and pins them to the small of your back. 
“What’ll you never do again?” he growls. 
“I—I’ll—”
“Say it, darlin’: I’ll never run off on my own again.”
“I’ll—n-never gonna—oh, it hurts, John—please—”
At some point, you must say the words he’s looking for. You lose count of how many times his belt has struck across your ass. Like thunder coming after lightning, you feel it and then you hear it. The sharp snap comes as a second wave of agony in and of itself. 
Your throat is stripped raw by the time it’s over. The aftermath finds you with a puddle of drool under your cheek, hair matted to your face. Sweat slicks the backs of your thighs and down your spine. Even the gentlest brush of John’s hand over your backside, the belt deposited off the side of the bed, makes you flinch, the skin there tender to the touch. You’ll surely feel it deep in your bones come sunrise. 
Too exhausted for anger, all you can do is lie there. It sits heavy in your stomach though, a pit at the center of you. You want to say, who gave you the right? The answer burns a ring around your finger though. You want to say, you don’t understand, it had nothing to do with you. It has everything to do with him and you. 
You can tell he wants to say something. It gets choked in his throat, but you can hear it in the way his breath draws in, like he’s trying to coax it from his chest but it simply won’t come out. 
“Stay right there,” John rumbles instead, shifting you onto the bed to let you lie on your belly. 
You moan in pain when he moves you, sniffling into your arms. The crook of your elbow is sticky with your tears and snot. 
The bed dips under his weight when he comes back. You flinch violently when he draws the skirt of your dress up again and smooths his hand over the tender cheeks of your backside, spreading a cool salve over your skin. The first touch of his hand makes you hiss, tears beading in the corners of your eyes again, but then the cool sinks in, alleviating the ache. 
He does that for another few minutes in silence. Gentle, tentative touches, only stopping when the salve has been spread evenly over your bottom. He’s quiet when he shifts you up the bed until your feet are no longer dangling off the end. You’re distantly aware of him taking off your shoes and tucking you into bed, but the events of the day have finally gotten the better of you. It would be easier to push a boulder up a hill than crack even one of your eyelids open.
Time passes slowly; sluggishly. Your thoughts can’t quite catch up with it, either too quick or too slow. You’re stuck in thoughts of the desert, caught in a sandstorm that manifests too suddenly for you to take cover. All you can do is close your eyes and wait it out. 
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Morning comes like a brutal summoning into the waking world. 
It hurts, but you expected that. Before your eyes even open, you’re aware of a throbbing pain coming from your backside. You wince when you shift to your side, squeezing your eyes tight. You contemplate rolling over and taking your chances with John’s temper. The thought isn’t as appealing in the light of day though. 
It takes some time to get out of bed and when you do, you have to step tentatively from floorboard to floorboard, the ache making it decidedly uncomfortable. You can’t imagine what sitting down will be like. Riding a horse is just out of the question. 
From the bedroom window, you see John standing in front of the house with Simon, back again not even twelve hours later. With the window closed, you can’t hear their conversation, nor can you read their lips. Their exchange doesn’t last long though. After another minute or so, and a nod goodbye, Simon walks back over to his horse standing nearby and lifts himself up and over onto the saddle, taking off towards town. 
When John turns back towards the house, you see him glance up towards the bedroom window where you stand. The circles beneath his eyes are dark, pronounced. On another day, you might’ve ducked out of sight or jumped away from the window, but now you hold his gaze. 
He breaks your stare first this time, heading back inside. It’s less satisfying than you thought it’d be. 
You spend the day resting in bed and avoiding John for the most part. He spends the majority of the day out of the house. You hear him downstairs in the kitchen around midday, fixing himself up something to eat, and you listen attentively to the scrape of the chair across the floor and the pan on the stovetop. Like the day he brought you home, he brings you up a tray only to leave it at the door, rapping the door with his knuckles to let you know before heading back downstairs. 
When he comes up for bed, you’re already lying down with your back to the door, the oil lamp left unlit. John doesn’t say anything to you as he changes into his nightwear. He smells fresh when he climbs into bed, like he bathed in the creek out in the woods. You breathe in deeply, trying to keep your breath quiet enough to not disturb the silence. The pillow under your head is saturated with his scent. You turn your nose into it when he lies down on his back instead of curling into you like he usually does. 
Your chest aches at that simple denial. There’s a wall between the two of you and you know where it came from. Any trust that you’d built lies in ruins now. 
Perhaps that’s not quite right though. It’s a romantic notion that you’ve been building something together all this time, but it doesn’t feel right now that you have the wherewithal to look back and reflect. All this time, whenever you’ve touched, you’ve held him steadfast and at an arm's length away, stopping two degrees short of intimacy. 
Deliberately effusive; and worse, you’ve called it affection. 
The tenderness in your heart is the worst of it. There’s a bruise there, and it’s been there awhile. It’s only grown with your recent troubles. You tell yourself every year that you’ll air it out come spring, but then the winter comes and it freezes over again.  
The pillow under your chest grows damp with your tears. 
Your dress the next morning is cornflower blue. The wheatfields are golden stalks swaying in the breeze. It’s a pleasanter day than how you feel. 
The ride into town is as painful as you thought it might be. You wince with every stride, your bottom still tender as a rose. John’s arm tightens around your waist when you squirm, like you might slide off the saddle and try to flee again, and you bite your lip to hold back the urge to snap. 
The little bit of independence you’d grown to enjoy is snatched away from you. You expected that as well, but that loss of privilege comes with a biting ache. You fight the urge to gnash your teeth and bark at him that you’re not a child when he grips you under the arm and leads you down the road. It wouldn’t do you any good. 
When John leaves you off at the general store, you’re surprised to find Kate back, hale and hearty. She looks up when the chime over the door jingles and raises her eyebrows in greeting. The sound makes you flinch, memories coming back unbidden. 
You look over your shoulder to say something to John before he leaves, but the door is already closing behind him by the time you turn around. Your lips are pursed on a word that dissolves in your mouth. It has a bitter aftertaste. 
“Thought you wouldn’t be back for a few more days,” you say instead, turning back to Kate. There’s already a chair pulled up for you by the wall and you make yourself comfortable there, grimacing at first when your sore backside touches the wood before settling in. 
She shrugs. “Plans changed. Gaz and I made it back late last night.”
You frown. “Gaz?”
“Kyle Garrick. Sorry—slip of the tongue. You’ve met him already. He used to go by Gaz way back when.”
“Way back when?”
“Not my story to tell. You should ask one of them, if you’re curious.”
You are, but not enough to ask. “Maybe.”
The two of you lapse into silence after that exchange. Before leaving the house, you remembered to bring with you some needles and wool to pass the time. They’re not as familiar in your hands as you’d like them to be, but you suppose, barring the possibility of Graves or another bounty hunter showing up in town to cart you off, you’ll have time to learn. 
The thought leaves you anxious. It feels distinctly more possible now. 
“You met Miles while I was away?” Kate asks, out of the blue.
Your head comes up at her question. “Miles?”
“He was minding the store for me while I was away. Said you came in the other day.”
You swallow reflexively. “Oh. Yes, I suppose I did meet him. I didn’t stay long, since you were gone and all.”
She hums and looks back down at the book in front of her. You feel nervous all of a sudden. 
“He said you were very helpful,” she says abruptly, breaking the silence. You flinch. “Told me some gentleman came by with a warrant for a murder back east and you were kind enough to take it to your husband for him so he could keep minding the shop.”
Your throat constricts. She pins you under her gaze, unblinking eyes staring into yours but not looking for anything. Wispy blonde bangs brush along her forehead when she tilts her head ever so slightly. 
You nod instead of answering. 
“Did you give it to him?” she asks.
“I didn’t have a chance to. The day got away from me,” you say tersely. 
“I heard something about that. Kyle said John had to borrow Simon’s horse the other day. Said something about him taking off in a hurry.”
Again, you don’t answer. It feels like without knowing it, you’ve crossed over a threshold. 
“Do you still have it?” Kate prompts when again you don’t respond. You don’t tell her that you don’t because in all the fuss the other day, it must have slipped out of your pocket and drifted off into the wind. “The warrant?”
“No,” you whisper, shaking your head. 
“That’s alright. I have a good enough idea about what it might’ve said.” 
Sweat beads on your upper lip. She all but says it outloud. You’re as still as a ferrotype under her gaze, imprinted in place, unable to move so much as a muscle or force a word past your stiff lips. 
“You’re under no obligation to tell me or anyone,” Kate says, and her voice is suddenly gentle, softer than you’ve ever heard it before. “I’m sure you had your reasons. I won’t be telling John, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“Oh. Thank you,” you breathe, throat so tight that the words almost don’t come out. 
It’s the closest you’ve come to admitting to it, tangentially or not, and even now it’s spoken only out of the corner of your mouth. You don’t think you have it in you to recite the events sequentially. Even in the privacy of your memory, it comes piecemeal, in fragmented images that flicker across your mind because maybe to remember it whole would be too much. 
You don’t say much more after that, and neither does Kate. That wasn’t the point of bringing it up, you think. You'd know if it was. 
When John comes to fetch you at the end of the day, you leave without saying goodbye to Kate. Only a stiff smile before heading out on your way. If she returns your smile, you don’t notice it. To John, you simply duck your head and follow him out the door, letting him help you up onto the horse without a word. 
If it bothers him that you refuse to speak to him, he doesn’t show it. 
It’s so many steps back that you might as well be back where you started. Maybe even further back, a voyage gone so wrong that when you look over your shoulder, you can’t make heads or tails of where you came from. The trees from the other side of the trail never look quite the same. 
If you could open your mouth and say it, you would. If you knew he’d listen. But you don’t think John is that kind of man. Against the gold of the setting sun, he cuts a figure from times of yore. He speaks plain while you tend to speak in fricatives and bilabial stops, incapable of enunciating the words. 
You feel like a wound on the world. Getting it wrong again and again. 
It’s an old pain, one that started back when you were too small to hold it all. Now, you’ve grown large enough to hold it, though it holds you back in turn. You remember your parents studiously ignoring first creation like some noxious cloud billowing from the chimney. There’d been too many children for them to care about the runt. Shipped off to your aunt’s and uncle’s just for the cycle to repeat itself. 
It’s an old grief, this one, friendly because it nudges at your hips when you brush by, striking in the blue-green. And when it burns, it burns.
“John, I—” you say when he helps you down back at the house. 
He stares down at you, waiting you out. Your mouth goes dry, the truth beyond your grasp again. Your heart aches when his brows furrow and the lines around his eyes crease again, frustration welling beneath the surface. 
You understand. It sits under your skin too. 
"Go inside," he says instead when you don't go on. "I'll bring in the horses and start supper."
Your God sits at the edge of the bed, wholly lacking praise. It’s not His fault that it’s been awhile. These days, you can hardly muster up the energy to say hello. You gargle saltwater before you bathe and scrub your skin free of blood, waiting for the next morning to come.
And you think, lying on your side while John sleeps on the other side of the bed, wouldn’t it be lovely to get it right now, rather than in retrospect?
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onsomenewsht · 2 days
Text
Helpless to the bass and faded light
About when she bribes you and you dance with her like a filled stadium isn't looking
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》 Leah Williamson x Reader
》 words count: +1k
》 she took my arm / I don't know how it happened / we took the floor and she said
You don’t like football.
It’s quite a boring game if you stop to think about it for a moment. Two dozen and counting people running around a ball trying to kick it into a huge net.
Not something you look forward to sit through for almost two hours.
Despite your father’s best efforts, you being his only kid and his only hope to pass down his passion, the sport never managed to interest you long enough to care.
You even found yourself in the stands of your dad’s favourite club’s home more times than you’re able to remember, going beyond yourself and cheering when the other people around you did.
The things you do to make your parents proud.
How you managed to have the English captain wrapped around your finger, regardless of your well-known dislike for her biggest passion and purpose in life, is still a mystery for your families and friends.
“Pretty please, just this one”
“Oh, shut up!”, you hit her arm and push her off you, both still naked.
You can’t believe your girlfriend is actually trying to bribe you with sex, not even waiting for you to fully recover before asking to go to the game.
“No, you ruined the mood”, you state as the blonde tries to kiss you again.
The huge grin of her beautiful face is quite dangerous, she can win you over so easily and you both know it.
Leah rises off the bed to retrieve a warm cloth from the bathroom and a clean shirt from the closet. You accept her attention, she’s always caring when it comes to you, but you’re pretty sure the extra effort has a not-so-subtle second purpose.
“You can’t buy me so easily, Williamson”
She can.
“It’s a really important game, my love”
“For who?”
“For me?”, she tries as she slots herself under your open arm, a grin hidden between your neck and the pillow.
“I barely bear you playing”
“You love watching me play”
“I love you, period”
Leah knows how much you think the sport is boring, going way out of your comfort zone just to cheer her. She feels immensely supported when she finds your big smile in the stands, wrapped in one of her jerseys.
It’s not that difficult for you to sit and admire your girlfriend in her element, focusing more on her movements and attitude than paying attention to the actual game.
What you find quite annoying is enduring Arsenal’s men’s team.
The defender’s fingers on your side are slowly soothing you in a compromising position, too relaxed and smitten to keep denying her anything. You know she doesn’t need much more to lure you into her trap and, unfortunately for you, she’s perfectly aware too.
When the blonde’s lips find the particularly sensitive spot on the base of your neck, you’re doomed.
~
You’re glad your father is already dead or you’d have killed him as you take your seat in the Emirates Stadium, surrounded by the Gunners’ colours. Your girlfriend’s name on your back could be the final nail.
The things you do to make your lover happy.
“You know I love you, right?”
“You better never forget this”, you quip back.
The English captain has been looking forward to this game for weeks now, you couldn’t have been able to turn her down in spite of it all.
She doesn’t need to know though, that you didn’t accept to spend one of your date nights watching the North West London derby for free.
“Maybe you will enjoy it at the end”
Nice try, you will not.
“You know, my dad was a West Ham supporter”
“Could have been worse”, she smiles at you, reaching for your hand.
Talking about your father is getting easier as time finally moves forward and your grief keeps changing its shape. Compared to the abyssal black hole it felt like the first year and a half, of its progress.
Leah didn’t meet him, crushing in your life a couple of months after his passing, but she managed to find a space in your heart that keeps growing despite all your fears.
They could have hit so well, bonding over their shared passion for the sport and their never-ending determination to make you happy.
You told her some stories about him, mostly memories to make your girlfriend understand how stubborn and passionate he was about the thing he cared about.
The one thing you all have in common.
“Yeah, he used to gift me a West Ham jersey every year on Bobby Moore’s birthday”
Leah’s laugh managed to overcome the buzzing atmosphere of the stadium, making you feel like she was the reason all the people around you were cheering. You sure think so.
“He sounds like an incredible father”
“Football obsession aside, he was good”
When you turn to look at her, the blonde’s eyes are already on you and the smile on her face is enough to warm your heart.
~
The first goal coming within five minutes has you quite engaged in what’s happening on the pitch, you even drag your girlfriend in a kiss as you both rise from your seats to celebrate.
Your commitment declined quite easily after that, more entertained by Leah’s reactions than the actual game. You nod in amusement every time she tries to talk you through one of her analyses, placing a hand on her thigh to stop her from standing up every time the ball is somehow close to the box.
The second half is more eventual, at least that’s what you can understand by the excitement the defender and the people in the stands around you seem to radiate.
You’re not clueless, you’re perfectly aware a five-nil win against Chelsea is quite the result. You care enough to think you can’t wait to go home - Leah is always in the mood for a private celebration when her team triumphs, especially over another London club.
“Can we go now?”, you ask as soon as the referee whistles three times, declaring the end of your and the Blues’ torture.
Leah’s happiness is contagious, so you’re not mad when she drags you in her arms to join her cheers and enthusiastic dance. It takes you less than a second to indulge her, letting the blonde spin you around and matching her excitement.
When she dips you and seals the move with a kiss the laugh that rises out of you is genuine and loud.
At first, neither of you notice the stadium’s camera pointed in your direction, recording your little moment of pure bliss in each other’s arms.
Looking back at it, as all your friends sent you the viral video, you know Leah saw you two on the big screen and went along with her little cocky display of affection and excitement for the victory.
You’re sure your father could be laughing at it too, despite the colors you’re wearing.
fine.
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moonstruckme · 3 days
Note
hi lovely I hope you’re feeling better!!!! I was wondering if I could request something with poly!marauders where she’s like simmering with anxiety and isn’t having a panic attack but is sort of close bc she’s just really overwhelmed and the boys notice and try to calm her down and are just sweet <3
Thank you for requesting sweetheart!
cw: signs of anxiety
poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1k words
You appear caught in a state of restlessness. You’re meant to be reading, but Remus hasn’t seen you turn a page in ages. Your eyes keep unfocusing, your knee bouncing underneath your blanket and your fingers toying absentmindedly with the corner of your page. 
Remus supposes your boyfriends haven’t done much to create a relaxing atmosphere in your home tonight. Earlier he’d let Sirius keep an eye on the stove while he minced garlic, and of course that had ended with you and James rushing to open every window near the kitchen to get the smoke alarm to turn off, and even once he’d traded Sirius’ help for James’ there’d been several near-misses with the kitchen knives and his reckless chopping. It also doesn’t help that James and Sirius are in one of their moods where listening to them talk is like watching a tennis match. Trying to keep up could give you whiplash, but luckily you don’t seem to be paying attention as they bicker about whether rugby or cricket is the rougher sport (Sirius is only trying to rile James; James clearly knows this, but he persists nonetheless). Still, it can’t make for nice background noise. 
Remus corners the page of his own book and reaches across the space between you, taking your hand. You look up with a smile, pleasantly surprised. 
“Alright, lovely?” he asks, fingers dancing up the length of your palm to your wrist. 
“I’m good,” you reply softly. “How’s your book?” 
“It’s off to a slow start,” Remus admits, “but I’m hoping it’ll pick up soon. How’s yours?” 
You look down at the book in your lap. He almost wonders if you’d forgotten it was there. “It’s not bad.” 
“Yeah?” He lets his fingers rest over the bump of your pulse, trying not to frown at its quick beat. “You haven’t seemed to be reading much.” 
By now your conversation has caught the attention of the other boys, James turning towards you and Sirius tilting his head to see around him. 
“Oh,” James says sympathetically, “is it not very good?” 
“No, it’s fine.” You look back down at your book, a bit sheepish. “I guess I’m just a little distracted.” 
Remus hums knowingly, stroking the back of your hand with his thumb. James’ brow furrows, but Sirius, true to form, asks outright, “Is something the matter?” 
You shake your head, seeming a bit perplexed yourself. “No,” you say, “I don’t know what my problem is.” 
“You seem a bit strung up,” Remus suggests gently. 
“Yeah, but” —you shrug, lips curving halfheartedly— “not for any good reason.” 
James makes a woeful pitying sound, wrapping his arms around your middle. “Sweetheart,” he laments, “do you think you might want a cuddle?” 
“Sure,” you agree, and your hand is removed from Remus’ as James pulls you into his lap, propping his chin on your shoulder with a pout, “but everything’s really fine, don’t worry.” 
Sirius leans his head on the couch cushion, looking at you with eyes sharp and contemplative. “What’s going through your head, pretty girl?” he asks. 
James covers your heart with a big hand, frowning at what he feels. You shrug. “I was just thinking about what I have to do tomorrow.” 
“You’ve been keeping busy lately,” Remus says. “Maybe you need to take some things off your plate.” 
A grimace is fixed upon your face before he’s finished talking. “It all has to get done, though,” you sigh. “No way around it.” 
Sirius and Remus exchange a look. “Maybe we can help,” Sirius says. 
You shake your head. “There’s nothing you can do,” you insist. “It’s not impossible, I’ve just been lazy and now it’s all piled up and I have to deal with it.” Your voice tenses as you lay it out, and your body with it. “It’s my problem. It’s not great, but I’ll get it done.” 
Sirius’ expression twitches into a frown at your increasingly agitated tone, and James gives you a firm squeeze, pressing a kiss into the side of your head. 
“Shh, angel, just slow down for a minute. You’re okay right now, aren’t you?” 
Some of the frustration slips from your expression. “I’m fine, I just—” 
“Then relax.” James’ voice is equal parts gentle and firm. “Take a deep breath.” 
You do. You close your eyes, and Remus can almost hear you counting as you inhale through your nose. James and Sirius, for probably the first time all evening, are silent. 
You stop breathing in. A small dent forms between your brows. 
“I can’t do it all the way,” you say, a slight vulnerability to your voice. 
Remus tries to make his low and sure to counter it. “That’s okay, it still counts. Just keep going, love. And maybe hear Sirius out.” 
Sirius very obviously fights the urge to gloat at the support, but he softens his preening into a lightly teasing look, narrowing his eyes at you playfully. “As I was saying, there have to be things we can make easier for you. What’s on your to-do list?” 
You take in another breath, and James makes a satisfied humming sound against your temple. “I mean, I really have to do laundry.” 
“Are you joking?” A grin splits Sirius’ face. “We can do that for you, baby, easy.” 
“And I have to finish my project,” you go on, as though determined to prove the impossibility of your tasks, “which will likely take all morning.” 
“I’ll be here tomorrow,” James reminds you. “Would it help if I made you breakfast so you don’t have to take the time?” 
You look surprised, head turning towards him. “Yeah,” you say. “That would be really helpful, actually.” 
“Stubborn thing.” Sirius pinches at your thigh, but Remus catches his hand before it can do any real damage. “Nothing we can do, huh?”
You duck your head sheepishly. Still, Remus can hear your smile when you say, “Sorry, you were right.” 
“It happens more often than you’d think, doll. Really astute of you to recognize it, though.”  
“For now,” Remus cuts in before Sirius can get to really gloating, “maybe it’s best to just try to relax, dove. Tomorrow’s problems will be manageable, there’s no sense in stressing yourself out tonight.” 
“Yeah,” you say, almost shyly. “Sorry, I wasn’t thinking properly.” 
“Don’t be sorry, baby,” James chides, tightening his hold on you. “It’s all good now, yeah?” 
“Yeah,” you admit. 
There’s a brief pause. 
“Sorry,” Sirius says, not sounding apologetic in the slightest, “I just want to hear it from your lips one more time. You said I was what?”
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You're Mine
Azriel x reader
~
You threw back another drink at Rita’s trying to drown the way you were feeling. You sighed as you leaned against the bar. You watched as Azriel leaned into Elain to make sure she was okay. You felt your heart crack a bit. You made sure your walls were up mentally and physically. You didn’t want anyone else to know how you felt about the shadowsinger. Mor was the only one that knew and you wanted to keep it that way. You closed your eyes centering yourself. When you opened them again, you locked eyes with those hazel ones you have loved for the last two hundred years. You gave him a smirk as you turned for your next drink. You felt a presence beside you.
“How are you holding up?” Mor leaned against the bar with you.
“I’m fine, Mor. Nothing a little of this can’t take care of.” You swirled the amber liquid around in the glass. Mor rolled her eyes at you. 
“Maybe, you should tell him?” You felt yourself freeze. She was the only one that knew the mating bond snapped, for you anyway. She was there when it happened. Your jaw tensed. 
“I’m not telling him.”
“Why?”
“Look at him over there with her. He’s infatuated, he looks like he’s in love and in the last three hundred years I’ve been with you all he’s never looked at anyone else like that before. Anyone.” Mor pursed her lips. She was about to say something when she saw it about the time you felt it. A shadow wrapping around your ankle. You smiled a bit. You let the shadow slither up to your shoulder. 
“Hello there. I’m fine, you can tell him.” You gently caressed the little shadow before it scurried back down your side and over to the shadowsinger. You looked over to find shock on his face. Did he not know one of them came over to you? You quirked your eyebrows but quickly turned back to your conversation with Mor. “Anyway, I’m gonna go. I leave in the morning.”
“Leave? Where are you going?” You downed the rest of your drink before you answered her.
“The continent. Rhys wants an eye on the queens since we haven’t heard from them since before the war with Hybern.” Mor’s eyes widened.
“Are you going alone?” You nodded. She let out a scoff. “I can’t be here right now, Mor. Not while all of this is going on. I need to go somewhere, do something. I won’t be gone long, just a day.” She sighed. She knew.
“Doesn’t mean I like it. Just be safe, don’t die.” You laughed at her. She gave you a smile back.
“I’ll be fine. Don’t worry.” You gave her a small hug and made your way out of Rita’s. You were halfway down the street when you heard, and felt, a gust of wind.
“You’re leaving?” Shock covered your features as the shadowsinger appeared behind you. 
“Jeez, Az, a little warning please.” He waited for you to answer his question. “Yes, I’m going home.” He gave you a look. You sighed before answering him. “I leave in the morning. I’ll only be gone a day, two at the most.”
“Where?”
“The continent.”
“It’s dangerous.” You tilted your head at him.
“I’ll be fine, Az. You’re the one who trained me. I’ll be fine.” Azriel didn’t seem so sure. You giggled as one of his shadows wrapped up your arm. You smiled down at it. “Tell him I’m going to be fine.” The little shadow seemed to disagree as well. You let it wrap around the hand you held up to it. You let it wrap around your hand and slide around for a while until it seems to be content. 
Azriel was looking on in awe. He didn’t even ask his shadows to do that. They did it of their own accord. He had never seen that happen until tonight when you were at the bar with Mor. The way you giggled as it wrapped around your hand made his heart squeeze in a good way. Once his shadow seemed pleased it slithered back down your arm, leg, then scurried across the small space between the two of you.
“Are you sure you don’t need anyone to go with you?” He wasn’t sure why, but the thought of you going that far alone made his entire body ache. You reached out, giving his arm a squeeze.
“Az, I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me.” That signaled the end of the conversation. Azriel sent one of his shadows with you to make sure you made it home. You let out a loud laugh, “Thank you, Az. Goodnight.” The shadowsinger didn’t reply. He just waited until you made the short walk back to your apartment.
~
You were not fine. Someone had tipped the queens off about your arrival. You didn’t know who it was, but you sure as hell were going to find out. You were taking a quick breather in a cave that seemed to be safe. That’s when you felt it. A little shadow crawling from behind your wing. You let out a sigh of relief. 
“Hey there. He just couldn’t stand that I was going alone could he.” The shadow seemed to do a little dance confirming you were right. “I need you to tell him I was ambushed. I don’t know who did it and it could be more than a day until I’m back. He cannot come and cannot send anyone. I’ll make it back.” The little shadow slithered down to your hand and wrapped itself around it. You gave it a smile. “I will make it back.” It seemed to hear the conviction in your voice. It seemed to hug your hand before it scurried away. 
You took a deep breath steeling yourself for what you were to do next.
~
Azriel’s shadow came back to him. He was surprised considering he hadn’t sent any out today. Once back it told him what happened. He swore the entire world stopped at that moment. You were ambushed and you told him to stay away. The worst part is, he knew you were right.
“Dammit.” He made his way to Rhys’s office at the House of Wind to relay what he found out. He did send a few shadows out to see if he could find who ratted you out. Azriel opened the door to find Rhys and Cassian already there. “We have a problem.”
“What is it?” Azriel explained everything that happened to you and how you were holed up in a cave, safe, for now. 
“Shit.” Cassian was up pacing before he even finished and Rhys had his head in his hands. 
“What was this for anyway?”
“I needed someone to go see if there was any movement from the queens. I was going to ask you, but she volunteered.” Azriel didn’t know how to feel about that. 
“Why would she do that?” Rhys and Cassian leveled him with a stare.
“For a spymaster, you sure are dense.” Rhys threw a hard stare in Cassian’s direction.
“For the love of the Mother, Rhys, I can’t not tell him at this point.” 
“Tell me what?” Cassian and Rhys shared a conversation he wasn’t privy to. Rhys finally relented.
“She’s your mate, Az.” Az felt his heart drop. 
“What?” Rhys and Cassian sighed. You didn’t know Rhys and Cassian knew the bond snapped into place for you. They had sensed something was different. It didn’t take long for them to put the pieces together, although you hid it very well. They let the information sink in for the spymaster. 
“She volunteered because of the way you’ve been stuck to Elain’s side.” All three turned to see Mor standing in the doorway. She wasn’t sure if they had put the pieces together, but she knew Rhys, it wouldn’t take him long. Azriel felt his chest tighten. Yes, he had been by Elain’s side the last few months, but she didn’t see him that way, she just needed a friend. 
“That’s not, there’s nothing between Elain and me.” 
“It didn’t seem that way, especially to her. I tried to get her to tell you, but she thought you wanted Elain. So, she took this mission to get away, even if it was just for a day.” Azriel had no idea. Didn’t even get a hint that the two of you were mates. It made sense though, the way he was around you. He seemed more open with you, it was easier to joke with you. The way his shadows were drawn to you. It made so much sense. The other three stood there watching as all the pieces fell in place for the spymaster. Azriel opened his mouth to say something when one of his shadows wrapped around his ear. 
She’s hurt. 
Azriel stood up ready to go find you when they heard a commotion in the hallway. The four of them ran out to see what was going on. They followed Naula down the corridor, she led them to the balcony outside the dining area. There you were a crumpled heap on the ground.
~
You heard your name. You looked up to see Azriel, Mor, Rhys, and Cass running toward you. Azriel reached you first. He hooked one arm around your back and the other under your knees lifting you off the ground.
“What a welcome committee.” You rasped. You were breathing hard, too hard. Az watched the pain flash across your face. Your hand gripped Az’s shoulder a little harder. One of his shadows curled around your hand. You managed to smile a little. “Hello again.”
“Where are you hurt? What happened?” You closed your eyes, taking a breath before you replied. 
“My wings.” The four of them looked to see the ends of your wings torn and many different spots. You heard Rhys yell for someone to get a healer. “I found out who did it. They won’t be a problem anymore.” Azriel couldn’t help the smirk that crossed his face.
“That’s my girl.” He kissed the top of your head. Azriel carried you to a room, there was a couch. That’s all you could manage to comprehend through the pain. Azriel laid you down on the couch and immediately kneeled down beside you. He grabbed your hand. He didn’t let go. Not when Madja arrived. Not when you nearly passed out from the pain. He was there. Never letting go. Never leaving your side.
~
Madja said to rest for a few days. It was currently day four of healing and you had managed to talk Madja into letting you go home. You were rummaging through your kitchen when you felt it. You giggled as the shadow wrapped itself around your ankle and made its way up your side and perched on your shoulder.
“You can come in, Az. It’s unlocked.” A second later you heard your apartment door open. You turned to see him bringing a couple of bags in. “What’s all this?”
“A few groceries. I thought you might be getting low.”
“Thanks, Az.” You started helping him unload the bags. You were putting them away, his shadow still perched on your shoulder.
“They don’t do that with anyone else.” You turned, giving him a questioning look. “My shadows. They don’t do that with anyone.”
“You haven’t sent them?” Azriel shook his head. “Even the one that was with me on my mission?” 
“I didn’t send it. I didn’t even know it was gone until it came back to me.” The shock was evident on your face. You had assumed he sent it. You looked at the little shadow still perched on your shoulder. “They only do that with you.”
You felt your heart stutter at the look he gave you. That’s when he felt it. The bond snapped into place. It had snapped for you long ago, but you could finally feel him. Everything. 
“Az,” you didn’t know what else to say as he made his way to stand in front of you.
“You’re mine.” You felt the bond glow within you, but you had to ask.
“What about Elain?”
“What about her?” He didn’t mean it in a mean way, but he wanted you. 
“You two just seemed so close.” You didn’t know how else to say it. 
“I don’t want her. I’ve loved you for so long. I just didn’t think I was enough for you. I’m a-” you placed your finger on his lips. You knew what he was about to say. He was about to repeat what every Illyrian warrior has called him for years. You weren’t having any of it.
“Don’t you dare. You are everything, Az. Everything.” You cupped his face and watched as his shadow crawled across your arm to join the others. You stared into those hazel eyes, losing yourself. You took a deep breath knowing what you were about to do would make this final.
“Would you like something to eat?” Azriel’s eyes widened. He knew you were mates, but he was still unsure if you would accept the bond. 
“Really?”
“Really.” Finally he slotted his lips against yours. You felt everything in the kiss. You were his and he was yours.
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woso-dreamzzz · 3 days
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Arguments II
Alexia Putellas x Hardersson!Reader
Natalia Guijarro (OC) x Hardersson!Reader
Part of The Big Adventures Universe
Summary: Your first argument
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You weren't really one to argue.
You didn't enjoy confrontations. You didn't like yelling.
But you knew this was where it was heading.
Talia stewed in the driver's seat all the way home, her knuckles white as she gripped the steering wheel.
This wasn't how you wanted her to find out.
You had been lucky, you think. You and Talia didn't argue. You had disagreements over silly things over when to feed the pets and whose turn it was to do the laundry.
But you knew, just by looking at the way Talia's jaw clenched that this was heading toward an argument.
You prepare yourself.
It happens almost as soon as the apartment door is closed.
"Lyon?!" She demands," Really, Lyon?!"
It wasn't the best way for Talia to find out, you can admit that. It wasn't that you were trying to keep it a secret. It was that you were told not to talk about it while the details were worked out.
You sigh. "I'm sorry but-"
"I thought you were happy here!" Talia interrupts," At Barcelona. In Spain. With me!"
"I am!"
"You're leaving!" Talia yells," You're leaving!"
"I'm not!" You snap back, hands clenching into fists as you dig your nails into your palm.
Talia scoffs. "Oh, forgive me if I'm wrong but Lyon is in France, yes?! So, yeah, y/n, you're leaving!"
"You're blowing this out of proportion!" You stand chest to chest with her.
You're practically the same height as her now so you're both yelling straight in each other's face.
(You have to concentrate as to not connect your lips to hers because it's unfair just how attractive she is while yelling).
The loan to Lyon had come out of nowhere, as was most emergency loans. It was a string of bad luck for the French team, their keepers dropping like flies until all that was left was two academy players who had never played for the senior team.
You, on the other hand, were twenty-one years old already with six years experience and a world cup win under your belt. You were a proven winner and Lyon were willing to throw an extortionate amount of money at Barcelona to get you on loan.
They offered you bonuses that was bordering on more zeros at the end of a number than you'd ever seen.
Lyon had been knocking on the door when your agent let clubs know you were leaving Arsenal. It had been a toss up between them and Barcelona.
But you chose Barcelona and they still kept knocking.
You agreed to the loan though, if only to get experience in a different league.
"If you want to leave," Talia yells," Then there's the door!"
"Oh, yeah? Well maybe I will!"
"Go on then!"
"Fine!
"Fine!"
You whistle as you make it to the door, crouching down to clip on Prins' leash before storming out into the hallway.
You choose to take the stairs instead of the elevator, working out some of your frustration on the way.
Prins' leash gets clipped onto your belt loop and you take off on a controlled jog around the neighbourhood.
Talia calls you.
You ignore it.
She call you again.
You don't want to continue this argument.
You turn off your phone.
You keep jogging, your feet pounding onto the pavement.
Prins runs next to you happily. He's always been able to keep up on your morning runs and a random afternoon run doesn't seem to faze him either.
Your mind runs just like your feet as you overthink all of your little interactions in the argument earlier. You wonder, briefly, if this means you and Talia have broken up now.
You hope not.
You're not sure how you would cope if Talia broke up with you over this.
Your running slows to a walk as you make your way to the beach. You sit on the sand and just stare out across the sea.
Prins whines a little bit, stamping his feet on the ground.
"Sorry," You say, unclipping his leash so he can run," There you go."
He doesn't though. He just whines a bit more, shuffling closer until his snout is pressed up against your face.
You smile.
"Thanks, Prins," You say, tearfully," You're a good boy."
His tail wags happily.
"He is a good boy."
You nearly burst into tears are hearing a familiar voice behind you.
"Hi, Alexia."
"Hi."
She sits down next to you and you bury your face in Prins' fur, not wanting her to see you cry.
"Nat's worried," Alexia says," She's calling everyone to see where you've gone."
"I turned off my phone. I didn't want to argue anymore."
Alexia frowns. "You argued with each other? That doesn't sound right."
"She was very angry," You whisper, turning on your phone in your pocket.
Alexia can just hear you over the roar of the sea. You've still got your head buried against Prins so your words are muffled.
"She's not angry anymore," Alexia says," She's very, very worried. You've been gone for nearly two hours."
That doesn't sound right, you think but when you fish out your phone, Alexia's right.
You've been running for nearly two hours since the argument.
"Oh."
Alexia chuckles. "Yeah, oh. You've had people looking for you. I think Nat even called your parents."
"I didn't want her to worry. I just wanted to stop arguing," You mumble.
"That's okay," Alexia assures you," But maybe you should shoot her a text telling her where you are so she doesn't worry anymore, huh?"
"Okay."
You text Talia your whereabouts.
There's silence for a long while between you both, nothing but the ocean and occasionally Prins shuffling around to get comfortable.
The sun is setting when Alexia speaks again.
"What were you arguing about?"
"I'm moving to Lyon," You say and Alexia jolts.
"What?" She asks in disbelief," Why? Does Barcelona not make you happy anymore?"
You give her an odd look. "No, it does, but staying out for one season wouldn't do any harm. Lyon has no keepers. Barcelona has two others plus that La Masia girl."
"The one that's always following you around?"
"I think it's sweet. She's good." You shrug. "I'll be back next year anyway."
"Wait..." Alexia blinks a few times. "What do you mean you'll be back next year?"
"It's only a loan," You reply," They're..." Your face goes red. "Lyon's offering the club a lot plus a bonus for me." You're sure that you resemble a tomato right now. "It's a lot of money. Enough to pay for a house in cash. Talia mentioned about maybe finding a place for ourselves."
"You want to buy Nat a house?"
"Well, I want to buy us a house." You frown. "Sorry...is it too early in a relationship to consider that? My Morsa said she was envisioning a house with Momma within the first month."
"No!" Alexia assures you," It's sweet. You're sweet, y/n, but I think there's been a bit of a misunderstanding."
You turn to look at her. "A misunderstanding? Over what?"
She doesn't get to answer because a body crashes into you and a phone is shoved into your face.
"I found her!" Talia exclaims," I've got her! I've got her!"
On the phone screen is your mothers, both pressed up against each other as they stare.
"Don't do that!" Morsa immediately jumps into a lecture. "Do you know how worried we were?! We called you so many times! We thought you were dead in a ditch!"
"I had Prins with me." It's a weak defence and you know it but you have to at least try. "He wouldn't let anything happen to me."
"Princesse, I love you but your dog is as dumb as a pile of bricks," Morsa says," But I'm glad you're okay."
"You can go to France," Talia says quickly," Not that you need my permission but if you want to go then go. I'm sorry that I yelled. If you want to leave Barcelona then go but-"
"Leave?" You repeat," I'm not leaving. I'm just going on loan."
If you weren't still a little worried about Talia breaking up with you then you'd find the shocked look on her face comical.
"What?"
"It's just a loan," You say," I...erm...They're willing to give me a lot of money for it. I thought, maybe, we could use it to get a house."
"I...You...We...You want to get a house with me?"
"I mean...er, if you want that too. I know that-"
You don't get to finish because Talia drops her phone to pull you into a kiss.
"Yes, I want to get a house with you."
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kenntolog · 2 days
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𝝑𝝔 an: taking a lil break from writing requests but the inbox is still open, all the information about requesting is here!! do whatever you want hehe, i will come back here a little later, i need to study, bye now!! love you all <33
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cool boyfriend sukuna usually doesn’t care what you wear, content with the clothes you choose — normally something bleak and not eye catching at all. but when he asks if you own skirts and you say ‘no’ he feels like it’s his duty to buy you one.
(he just really wants you to dress up in something he buys you and maybe be a little perverted about it. but he’ll try to keep to himself, he said as he imagined your pretty figure in something short and skimpy.)
which takes you both to this moment here;
“i feel silly, ryo!”
“maybe if you’d get out of the damn bathroom i’d see what’s the deal with that.” he shouts impatiently from your room, and you’re sure that he’s rolling his eyes as usual.
you whine at his words, covering your face with your hands before you look at yourself in the mirror one more time and peek your head out of the bathroom. sukuna’s laying on your bed like it’s his own, legs spread out comfortably, one arms under his head while the other holds his phone above his disinterested face.
“sukuna?” you call out meekly, his head immediately turning in your direction. he throws his phone away and sits up against your headboard.
“come out and gimme a show, loser,” he smirks at you, one finger luring you in.
you sigh heavily and come out shyly, staring down at your feet. the feeling of the fabric clinging to your skin is a bit foreign; just like the skirt, the frilly hem of it barely touching the middle of your thighs. the matching top isn’t better, sitting just a bit higher than the waistband of the skirt.
sukuna’s silence makes you want to hide under your bed, but that’s not the best option so you opt to head back into the bathroom, too self-conscious to look at your boyfriend. he doesn’t let you though, fingers closing around your wrist to stop you.
sukuna, on the other hand, looks at you like you’re dream come true, his eyes a bit wide and mouth slightly hanging open. he steps away, turning from side to side to get a better look at your pretty figure, taking in the way the skirt and top reveal your skin and the pink that matches the colour of his hair suits you so perfectly.
“‘kuna~” you whine, covering your face in embarrassment, but sukuna is quick to pry your hands away, the wide grin on his face making you feel all warm inside.
“you’re so pretty, baby,” he smoothes back the hair out of your face, unable to resist the softness of your expression as he places a couple of kisses on your pink lips.
“i am?”
“the prettiest.” the scream you let out is, thankfully, internal. “gimme a twirl now.”
you giggle quietly, obeying his words and spinning around bashfully as he chuckles along with you.
“‘m gonna buy you a closet full of skirts and dresses.”
you’re pretty sure your face is going to melt from how much it heats up, his words having too much of an effect on you. you whine his name again, leaning your head against his shoulder and the smile on your face is so wide that sukuna feels it against his skin, putting his hand on top of your head lovingly.
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lecl3rcw · 1 day
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KEEPING UP WITH THE LECLERCS | leclerc brothers x reader
_______________________
“Y/N, it’s the middle of the fucking night in Monaco? You better have a good ass reason too wake me up” Arthur groaned at his twin as he groggily.
“You won’t believe it.” She says
“What?”
“THE BENGALS INVITED ME TO THEIR GAME” she says, a sudden burst of excitement ran through her
“Who are the bengals again?” He sighs
“….”
“Oh wait, it’s that one dude you like, what was his name again Joe Burrow?”
“YEAH AND GET THIS, I can bring up to 5 people, so you’re coming and so are Charles, Alex, Lorenzo and Maman” she says excitedly.
“Who says I’m going?” He says, earning himself a scowl.
“You don’t want to come?” She says, “well I mean not really”
“Ofcourse you don’t! I always show up for your events and you never show up for mine” she says, maliciousness lacing her tone.
“Y/N please, this isn’t your event, you’re not walking the runway or attending a premiere” he says, his tone now matching hers.
“Well even if I was, not like you’d show up anyways” she mutters.
“What are you yapping about? You’re being so dramatic, I mean not everything revolves around you okay? Some of us have actual problems” he says giving the final blow.
The girl takes a deep breath to collect her self. All her life she had spent living in the shadows of her siblings. She just wanted someone to show up for her, she remembers her first runway show, she had 4 seats reserved for her family yet when she walked out, all 4 of those chairs were empty, why? Because Charles had a last minute deals with a brand. They called and apologized and Ofcourse she put a brave face on, but only the walls of her room heard the way she cried herself to sleep that night.
“You know what? I’m going to let that slide, I don’t know what’s going on with you but I hope you make peace with yourself, and you don’t have to come, I’ll just ask Charles and Enzo. But anyways goodnight” she says
“Y/N-” Arthur tries to interrupt but she hangs up before he can say anything.
Had she overreacted? She felt a sudden rush of guilt overcome her. She couldn’t help but overthink. Her train of thoughts were interrupted by a FaceTime call from her brother's girlfriend.
"Hey babygirl" Alexandra says, "Hey bae, what's up?" she says propping her phone up on the table.
“Just checking in with you and your man situation” Alex says, her and Charles were in the Maldives, “oh it’s good, I got invited to the bengals game so” she replies, “WAIT THATS SO GOOD” Alex says excitedly, Y/N smiles.
“Do you and Charles want to come with me?” She asks hopeful, “well Charles will be preparing for his race but I can definitely come!! When is it?” She asks, “next week!”
“Oh yeah I can definitely make it!” She says,
“Ok we can fly together!! But I I’ll see you next week love ya!” She says hanging up.
The week came even before she could blink.
“So Y/N you excited?” Alexandra says, and Y/N nods.
When they arrive at the stadium, Y/N is immediately greeted by the bengals team.
“Thankyou so much for being our guest, I’m the head coach Zac Taylor” a man says reaching his hand to which she smiles and accepts.
“This is my friend Alexandra!” She says as Alex also shakes his hand, from the corner of her eye, Y/N could feel a certain pair of blue eyes stare at her, and her cheek flushed more.
She waves to the rest of the team, however the man with blue eyes seems to approach her first. “Hey, my name is Joe, I’m the quarterback” he says extending his hand, “I’m going to be honest, I have no idea what that it” Y/N chuckles shaking his hand which caused him to smile.
“Well if you umm give me your number maybe some time could teach you about football” he says very smoothly, which causes her to get flustered.
“Oh yeah, d-definitely! Here” she says giving him her number as he smiles, “you have such a beautiful smile” Joe says bringing up her hand to his lips before letting it go, “I’ll talk to you later” he says waving before going to get ready for his game. She just stands there in shock wondering what happened.
Alexandra squeals, “I saw that!! Y/N he so likes you” she says hugging the girl.
Y/N laughs and shakes her head, but the whole time she couldn’t take her eyes of him.
joeyb_9 started following you
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y/n.leclerc
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y/n.leclerc modeling for Dior has always been a dream of mine, so thankful to take this huge step into my career with the most amazing photographers, stylists, and makeup artists🫶🏻
liked by alexandrasaintmleux, joeyb_9, charles_leclerc, and 13,000,000 others
alexandrasaintmleux mami😍
^ y/n.leclerc kiss me rn😍
charles_leclerc alex has been staring at the phone for the past 15 minutes….
^ y/n.leclerc sounds like a you problem bud😪
fan1 NOT JOE BURROW LIKING?!!?!
^ fan2 IK HE NEVER LIKES
joeburrowswife idk I don’t see the hype
^ y/n2fine yet she’s pulling your “man”
rachelzegler welcome to the squad Y/N❤️
^ y/n.leclerc Thankyou rach💕🥹
bellahadid weird way to propose but yes😍
^ y/n.leclerc SHE SAID YES YALL💍👩🏻‍❤️‍💋‍👩🏻
420 notes · View notes
foreingersgod · 2 days
Note
what about like a paige x reader like they met on vacation somewhere during a break and then they hooked up or something thinking they would never see eachother again but turns out reader is the new uconnwbb team manager
Naked in Manhattan . PB
pairing: paige bueckers x reader
synopsis: you were devastated to face the reality that you’d never get to see your one night stand while on vacation, but maybe the universe has other plans for you
new crush
high school love again
it was finally spring break. no more midterms or study sessions to worry about, just your feet in the sand and a drink in your hand. you and your roommates had planned a small trip to california to celebrate the hard work you’d all put in for the semester. nothing too extravagant, just a quaint beach house right off the coast to let all of your worries wash away.
it was beautiful, just big enough for the 4 of you. when you had arrived you were practically planning out everything you would be doing. a week of doing nothing but sitting on a soft towel, bathing in the sun, listening to the waves crash while you read your book sounded like heaven.
but your roommates had other plans for you. they had heard about a ‘beach bro party’, whatever the hell that was, that a local fraternity was throwing. anyone and every was was apparently invited. the second the raggedy flyer hit the cool marble counter tops of your air b&b, you knew any plans of relaxation were gone.
so there you were on your second night of vacation, crammed into the single bathroom with your roommates, doing your makeup and hair for this dumb party. if it weren’t for the girls begging you to come, you truly would have stayed behind. but they were too convincing and now you were here, shoving your boobs into the most uncomfortable bra known to man and dousing yourself in perfume.
after about 30 minutes at the frat party you were about ready to call it quits. the drinks were absolutely foul (you were sure it was straight acid) and the lights and heavy music were giving you a blaring headache. spring break was starting to feel less and less fun as you pretended to enjoy whatever the hell was going on in that house. you didn’t know anyone, your roommates had ditched you for some random frat guys, and you didn’t have the keys to get back home. in hopes that you could wait it out, you snuck off into a corner of the house, taking a seat on the cigarette smoke infused sofa.
you tried to distract yourself until at least one of your roommates was finished fucking around with a guy so you could leave. closing your eyes, fiddling with the frayed threads of your shorts, scrolling on your phone, nothing helped to kill the boredom. you were about ready to stand up and drag your friends out the door yourself until someone approached the couch, taking a seat next to you.
she had a drink in hand, half empty, still laughing about something someone shouted across the room. she was tall, blonde, and if you were being honest, smoking hot. you glanced at her briefly to try and study her face, trying not to make it too obvious. her hair was pulled back into a flattering ponytail, body clad in a black tshirt and jeans, teeth a sparkling white as you watched her smile and laugh. she was definitely your type.
but eventually, your stares began to linger a little bit too long and she caught you. her eyes meeting with yours just before you could turn away.
“you good?” she asked, setting her drink down the on coffee table.
“hm?” you asked, trying to sound oblivious “yea i’m fine”
“are you sure, cause you keep looking over here”
“i don’t know what you’re talking about” you felt her gaze linger on you, too nervous to make eye contact with her.
“yea,” she laughed, scoffing under her breath “sure you don’t”
“i’m serious, i think you’re a bit drunk cause i genuinely don’t”
“well i’m sober enough to know that you keep staring at me when im not looking soooo”
“why would i being staring at you, huh?” you retorted “a bit full of yourself?”
“maybe it’s because, i don’t know, you see something you like?” now she was just fucking with you. she had this stupid, lopsided grin on her face as she watched your jaw drop in offense.
“oh please”
“i don’t know,” she said “you hesitated there, think i’m right”
you resisted rolling your eyes “and so what? god forbid i look at an attractive woman? my bad”
“so you admit then?” she questioned “that’s why you were staring?”
“if that makes you feel better? then sure, yes that’s why i was staring” you bit your lip and watched as her tongue darted between her teeth, swiping her bottom lip. she eyed you up and down, eyes darkening.
“it actually does” she scooted closer to you, arm extending past you to lay across the back of the couch “what’s your name?”
“…YN” your breathe caught in your throat as her thigh came in contact with yours. “you?”
“paige”
The rush of slumber party kissing
somewhere in between the banter and the alcohol, paige’s tongue found its way down your throat. she had so politely invited you upstairs while her hands were already making their way up you shirt. you obliged and followed her upstairs to some abandoned bedroom while you tried to ignore the aching feeling between your legs.
the door gently clicked behind you as you shut it. when you turned around, paige was already pressing you against the wall. her lips finding their way to your neck and sucking lightly at the smooth skin. you audibly moaned, fingers automatically diving into her scalp and tugging lightly at her blonde locks.
you shuddered when you felt her fingers against the skin of your abdomen again, creeping their way up your shirt like they had previously. she stopped at the bottom of your bra as she pulled away from your neck.
“this ok?” she asked.
you hummed in response, nodding your head violently, taking her face in your hands to plant a passionate kiss on her lips. with little hesitation, she was already pulling your top over your head and unclasping your bra, hands desperately squeezing at your breasts as she backed you up towards the bed.
with lips still attached, the back of your knees hit the foot of the bed causing you to fall onto your back gently. paige followed and climbed atop your body, not letting her hands off of you.
out of breathe and wanting more, you pulled away, tugging at the bottom of her shirt. “can i?”
she didn’t need to hear anymore. the black piece of fabric was already being thrown to the floor, revealing her sports bra which you also tore off her. what a lovely sight to see, you thought.
not long after, both of your pants were discarded, then your panties, and then her boxers. she planted wet kisses down your abdomen, throwing your legs over her shoulders as she made herself comfortable between your thighs.
“is this crazy?” you panted. you managed to bite back a moan of pleasure to look down at her, seeing her look up at you with eyes blown with lust.
“maybe a little” she said “but i can’t help myself”
Don't touch, I'll never cross the line
So I pushed you down a million times
waves crashed against the shore outside, chatter of people walking by slithered past the window of this foreign room you were in. your head was throbbing as you rose from your slumber, you definitely had too much to drink.
shuffling sounded from the other side of the room, causing you to fully wake. you looked over, pulling up the sheets above your bare body, to see paige was already awake. she was almost completely dressed, buttoning up her pants and lacing up her sneakers.
“was i that bad?”
her head snapped in your direction, startled to hear your voice. part of her wanted you to say it again, liking the way the it groveled from the early hours of the morning.
“no” she laughed, offering a smile “you were amazing actually”
“you weren’t too bad yourself”
she was beginning to look around for her keys and wallet, seemingly ignoring you as you remained in bed, still naked and vulnerable.
your brain was screaming at you, begging you to call out to her. part of you wanted to ask for her number, ask for her to stay with you. but the other part of you knew what this was, this wasn’t a date or anything serious. sure, you had developed a liking to paige over the course of the night you spent together. how could you not? she absolutely worshipped you, made you erupt with pleasure, was so sweet to you. this wasn’t something you wanted to let go. but it was unrealistic, you lived miles away from here in another state and paige most definitely had her own things to worry about. pursuing her was not in your cards.
so you kept your mouth shut, watching her shove her keys into her pocket. you assumed she’d just walk out, mutter a goodbye and leave, but she paused and turned to you.
“i-uh, don’t normally do things like that” she said, trying not to look at the outline of your body beneath the duvet “but i wanted to say thanks. i know that that’s cringe, but it’s true. you were…unforgettable”
you could tell she was going through the same thing. mind swamped with conflicting emotions, wanting to stay to see how this played out but also forcing herself to be realistic.
“you too” you gave her a bittersweet smile.
she just nodded at you before heading to the door, fingers wrapping around the cold metal handle.
“bye, YN”
“bye, paige”
and just like that, she was gone. maybe in another lifetime you’d get more time.
I'd love if you knew you were on my mind
Constant like cicadas in the summertime
every since that morning, paige had invaded your thoughts. the remaining time you had on vacation was spent obsessing over what could have been, what might have happened if you just asked for her number. spring break didn’t even seem fun anymore. you didn’t join your friends as they explored the shops in the city or attend anymore parties they managed to scope out. instead you went to the beach, like you originally intended, letting your mind wander as you listened to the ocean. something in you wished that the nagging feeling would eventually go away.
it never did though. even after break was long over, all of you heading home and resuming your schoolwork, she was still on your mind. it made it difficult to do anything. getting homework done, attending lectures, going out on weekends. it was useless because all you could think about was paige. your heart ached as daydreams of her consumed you.
back at UCONN you were doing your best to keep motivated. trying to rid your mind of a foolish dream that you knew was never going to come true. you tried joining clubs and making new friends just to distract yourself. you had even gone so far as to get a new job for the university, taking on the position as the assist team manager for their women’s basketball team. it was a perfect match: you, someone with a general liking and background for basketball who needed to get her life back in order, and a team who was thriving and needed all the help they could get.
Boys suck and girls I've never tried
And we both know we're getting drunk tonight
you woke up at 6:00 am on the dot. it was going to be your first day on the job and you wouldn’t be caught looking unpresentable, so you made sure to give yourself time to get ready.
it was a lovely day as you stepped outside of your apartment building. birds were chirping, the sun was shining, and the traffic was light enough that it didn’t give you a migraine. you made the decision to walk to work, let your thoughts dissipate as you tried to enjoy a relaxing morning.
the walk, like you had hoped, was freeing. you didn’t feel as anxious anymore as you walked into the building, ready to tackle the trials of the day. being the new girl, you had to go through all the new orientation material. get your ID picture taken, fill out some paperwork, the whole process. then it was time to meet with geno and the rest of the management crew.
“you must be YN” he shook your hand firmly “it’s nice to meet you”
“the pleasure is all my mine” you grinned. you made your way around the room, introducing yourself to any unfamiliar faces and learning more about what the job would entail. after some light mingling, geno found you again.
“the girls are out there warming up right now, are you ready to get acquainted with team?”
“definitely”
shoes squeaked against the glossy gym floor, heavy breathing filled the room as you followed geno into the gym. you watched as the girls made shots, passed the ball, and ran drills with ease. it was quite impressive. geno had hollered for them to gather upon your entrance, signaling for them to form a circle so he could introduce you.
you stood timidly next to him, watching the girls round up. trying to inspect each girl carefully as they approached the huddle. they all looked extremely kind. a few offered you a smile or a wave and you smiled in return.
then, as geno began talking, the final few girls joined the group. the last girl in particular had grabbed your attention. you couldn’t see her face very well, only able to catch glimpses of her as she pushed her way through to the front. but when she emerged past the front row, your heart skipped a beat and your breathe caught in your throat. you wouldn’t miss that familiar blonde in a thousand years.
“this is going to be the newest member of the team,” geno stepped aside, putting you on the spotlight “YN, she’s our new assistant team manager. i expect you all to get to know each other and play nice. i’m looking at you paige”
it hadn’t felt real until you heard her name. like it was ingrained in your mind, you finally found the courage to lock eyes with her. there she was in all her glory, staring back at you in disbelief. while everyone else laughed at geno’s innocent joke, greeting you briefly before heading back to their warmups, you and paige remained frozen. she stood across from you, confused expression on her face. you felt like you couldn’t move, like you couldn’t breathe.
“YN” her voice was barely above a whisper.
“paige”
she looked over her shoulder, assessing to see if anyone was paying attention before walking over to you. paige lightly grabbed your forearm, leading you off the gym floor and into a more secluded corner of the building. you had to admit, it only took that one touch to make your heart start racing again.
“what are you doing here?” she asked, now that you were in a private area.
“what am i doing here?” you asked in return “what are you doing here?”
“well obviously i play basketball here”
“ok smart ass,” you rolled your eyes, she hadn’t changed much “i just meant that i had no idea you were going to be here”
“i thought you knew” she breathed “when we met, i thought you knew who i was. i thought that’s why you were staring at me that night”
“of course i didn’t know!” you were unsure what to say.
“have you really been at UCONN this whole time?” she continued “oh my god this is insane”
“what are the odds, right?”
“i thought i’d never see you again”
“me neither” you said before an uncomfortable silence fell between you. nor you or paige had ever expected to see each other again, accepting your fate that you would evidently go your separate ways.
“so what now?” she asked.
“would you…i don’t know what to get a drink or something?” a poor attempt at asking her out “that sounded really fucking dumb, but i’d like to catch up”
“yea,” she scratched the back of neck, trying to hide the goofy smile that formed on her lips “i’d like that”
Touch me, baby, put your lips on mine
Could go to hell but we'll probably be fine
the dress you were wearing was practically suffocating you. neckline scratching your chest, straps digging into your shoulders, hemline riding up your thighs every time you moved. the bar stool you sat at was of no comfort, either. you shifted uncomfortably as you looked around the bar, waiting for any sign of paige. you had made plans for the weekend to meet up so you could make up for lost time.
the night was beginning to drag on and it was getting awfully close to 8:00 pm. you hoped she wasn’t going to stand you up. but, as if on cue, the door to the bar opened revealing a very exasperated paige. she spotted you there, alone with a drink already in front of you.
“hey i’m so sorry” she apologized for her near tardiness “traffic was a bitch”
“it’s ok, was just worried you’d stand me up” you joked.
“i wouldn’t miss it for the world”
you blushed, looking down at your drink. paige ordered one of her own before finally settling in the seat next to yours. you didn’t think she could look anymore beautiful, seeing her there with her hair cascading around her face and dressed in neat clothing. she eyed you carefully, it was starting to seem like a habit the way she kept sneaking glances at you.
“you look beautiful” she chewed on the inside of her cheek.
“stop” you laughed.
“no really” she shook her head, swallowing deeply “i mean it, you’re breath taking”
“well thank you, and thanks for agreeing to go out tonight. i’ll be honest…i’ve been thinking about you…like a lot”
“i’ve been thinking about you too” her demeanor started to shift “i really regretted just walking out that night. i was in my head and i just assumed that we’d be going our separate ways”
“i don’t blame you, i was too” you tired to offer consolation “i mean who would have assumed that we both went to the same school and just happened to vacation in the same place?”
she laughed at that, finally giving you a relaxed and genuine smile.
“a crazy coincidence…i’m really really happy you’re here, YN. this just doesn’t feel real”
“i glad i’m here too” you felt like a weight was lifted off your chest, no more wondering about who paige was or what she did. you knew now, she was here with you.
hours went by as you and paige reveled in conversation, spilling every detail, every story, every memory of your lives. it felt like this was meant to be, that the universe had purposely aligned yours and paige’s path. it felt so natural to talk to her. she was easy going and funny, she was an attentive listener and laughed at all your jokes. it was unbelievable that you found her again and you were more than grateful.
“would you-i don’t know, maybe this is too forward” paige began, gaze flickering between your eyes and your lips as you were finishing up your drinks “would you want to come back to my apartment?…i don’t want this night to end”
“i would love that” you blurted with urgency, butterflies forming in your stomach.
she nodded, not even bothering to respond. her hand came in contact with yours as she paid your tab and dragged you out of the bar.
cold air nipped at your bare skin as you walked with paige to her car. she politely opened the door for you, helping you in. the drive to her place wasn’t long at all, but you had noticed she was right, traffic was a bitch. but her music taste was impeccable and you had plenty to talk about so the drive didn’t feel excessive at all.
when you arrived at her apartment, she pulled out her keys to unlock the door, hinges creaking as she led you inside. it was a perfect little apartment from what you could see. it was warm and cozy, definitely well loved, and you thought it fit her perfectly. she turned on the lights and told you to take a seat on the couch and make yourself comfortable.
paige sat next you, leaving a few inches between you two. the distance and the dimly lit room took you back to spring break. it felt like you never left.
“i like your place,” you commented “it suits yo-”
“can i kiss you?”
“what?”
“please” she closed the gap between you, scooting closer to you just like before “i don’t think i can sit here, replaying that night in my head over and over and not know what it feels like to have your lips on mine again”
you let out a breathe, not realizing you had been holding it in the first place. she looked desperate, leaning into you, hands making their way up to cradle your jaw. her fingers caressed the curve of your chin, fingers hooking underneath to pull you in. but she stopped, painfully waiting for your response.
“yes” you said “please, please kiss me already”
so she did, teeth clashing with yours in haste, pulling you into her without a second thought.
I know you want it, baby, you can have it
your discarded clothes made a messy trail down the hallway to paige’s bedroom. your shirt crumpled on the couch, belt slung over the stair railings, bra tossed onto the end of her bed. her clothes followed, making a pile on the floor. your hands were buried in her hair as she nibbled at your ear, then kissing down to your collarbone. the room was silent all except for your breathy moans and the disgustingly erotic, wet sounds from paige’s lips.
it was needy, it was passionate, and it was absolutely perfect. the way her body fit with yours like a puzzle, it was written in the stars.
Oh, I've never done it, let's make it cinematic
Like that one sex scene that's in Mulholland Drive
it could’ve been a scene from a movie. something you’d watch as teenage girl, when you’re at a slumber party with your friends and someone snuck in an R rated movie. and you’d all watch it, gasping and giggling when the actors would start to take of their clothes. you would stare at the screen while everyone was pretending to gag and freaking out, shutting it off before it got too intense, but all you could think about what how beautiful it was. that those two people loved each other so much that it was like fireworks going off, every touch and every word muttered served as a declaration of love.
that’s what it was like with paige. it was like that movie had come to life. everything about it was like something from a fantasy.
the satin sheets bunched around paige’s hips as she worshipped you. the gentle whimpering in your ear as she rutted into you. your not so gentle moans as you came undone around her fingers. how the room was hot and humid from your pure passion.
all of it was pure magnificence.
I wanna know, baby, what is it like?
I know you want it, baby, you can have it
you awoke the next morning, sunshine filtering in through smoggy clouds. paige began to stir next to you, arms finding their way from under the blanket to the bareness of your torso where she traced meaningless shapes into your skin.
“good morning” she muttered into the pillow, still fighting off sleep.
“morning” you beamed, watching her eyes flutter open “how’d you sleep?”
“better than i ever have”
you yawned with a lopsided grin, soaking in her elegance as she sat up to stretch. the world might as well have just stopped from the way she looked at you, like you were the only thing that mattered.
“hey paige?”
“hm?”
Oh, I've never done it,
“please don’t let me go this time”
naked in Manhattan
“i won’t” she replied “never again”
364 notes · View notes
htchnr · 22 hours
Text
♰ 'bout damn time ༻ C. HOWARD.*ೃ˚
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➻ masterlist. ➻ buy me a coffee!
CW ➻ mention of being a little hungover ⋆ Cooper being rude to Lucy (as always) ⋆ lowkey lovesick Cooper ⋆ other than that not much ⋆ if i missed anything, lmk!
PAIRING ➻ the same reader x Cooper relationship from this drabble series!
SUMMARY ➻ after a while of travelling, seems all Lucy had to do was get rid of the Vault suit. OR, many times Cooper is nice to you, and one time he isn't mean to Lucy. WC ➻ 750~.
AUTHORS NOTE ➻ i'm taking a short break from writing! no longer than a few weeks don't worry! college finals are getting closer, plus life's getting pretty busy so i could use all the time i can get to take it easy and not over work myself. so here have a cute silly fic before i go on break 😁
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© 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐇𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐍𝐑. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦, 𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫!
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Lucy notices Cooper's deep care for you through both little things.
those things would include giving you the first cooked skewer of meat off a fire, (not before he takes a piece off to taste or see if it might make anyone (you) sick.) he always has you walking in front of him, then Lucy in front of you. wether he does this so he can stare at your ass all day, or to make sure he can always keep an eye on you she'll never know.
he lends you his hat from time to time, mainly when your headaches are bad or he notices you could use some cover from the harsh sun of California. Lucy's even seen Cooper lend you his duster if it's particularly cold at night. hell, he even allows you to snuggle up to him for extra warmth. she mainly thinks he allows this so he can keep better watch on you, but a small part inside her thinks that he likes the comfort of your body against his.
despite him knowing you can more than handle yourself in a fight he always puts himself first, as if to scope out any possible things that could happen and catch whatever bad things come first.
and perhaps the thing Lucy has grown to adore the most, is watching Cooper wordlessly extend a hand to you — wether you fall behind a little and he reaches to hold your hand, or to help you get up. it almost feels like she's invading something intimate and personal when she catches glimpses of the actions.
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the market is loud and busy, full of people buying and selling a wide range of things. you had moved through town in the hopes for a hotel, the last bounty having paid more than enough for a few nice nights of sleep.
"hey, you need anythin'?" Cooper asks from beside you as the three of you walk through a busy market. "i'll do an extra poke 'round for whatever."
you nod, "i'm good i think," you reply, and Cooper looks at you with that 'yeah sure' look, as if to nudge you to think harder. looking down at your thin coat, you sigh, "okay.. maybe if you can find a better coat anywhere? winter's coming up and it would be very nice of you?" you smile at him, another warm autumn breeze blowing past.
he nods, scarred fingers rolling the caps around in his coat pocket. "well i would like some-" Lucy speaks up.
"zip it Vaultie, didn't ask." he huffs, raising a hand to pat your shoulder. "i'll be back," he nods to you, looking over your shoulder to give Lucy a sour, unamused look.
you nod back, "if we're not here in a bit we'll probably be back at the hotel, my feet are killing me and last night at the bar was too much," you groan, rolling your shoulders. Cooper nods, walking off.
you huff with a small smile before moving along the market stalls to peruse for more med supplies. Lucy scoffs behind you, walking up to your side. you look over to her, brows twitching with tired curiosity. "hm?" you hum, as if asking her what's up.
she shrugs, "how does he keep doing it?" she asks, her face displaying her confusion and frustration.
you shake your head, looking over at a stall. "what do you mean?"
"switching like that," she adjusts her backpack. "he's shockingly nice with you, asking you if you need anything, then when i pitch in all of that is gone and he snaps," she huffs.
you wave her off, "it's nothing personal," you reply, eyes glued to a stall selling a bunch of clothes. "well, probably anyway." you pull Lucy along with you, stopping before the stall. "you know what might lessen his snappy-ness towards you?" you turn to her, her big doe eyes blinking back at you.
"what?" she answers.
"getting rid of that Vault suit." you point to the massive crate full of clothes. "pick a few things out, i'll pay, and we'll call it a uh, little experiment, yeah?"
she thinks for a minute, the Vault suit did have it's benefits, but it was also a blaring neon sign telling people where she's from. which Lucy has learned the hard way that that's usually not beneficial anymore. she nods, hands moving to start sifting through the pile of clothes.
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the sun has long since set by the time the two of you got back to the hotel. you had briefly looked around the market for Cooper, but upon not finding him you decided to just head back to the hotel. you sluggishly walked up the steps, occasionally eyeing Lucy's new clothes. it sure took some getting used to, not having that hideous Vault suit to look at.
you stepped up the final stair, walking through the short hall until you reached the door of the room you were renting. you unlocked the door, finding Cooper lounging on a chair in the corner of the room. "hey," you offer, letting Lucy walk in before closing and locking the door.
Lucy eyed Cooper as you two came it, watching for any change in his expression. yet, she got nothing.
he groans as he gets up, grabbing his hat and chucking it on the bed you and him shared. he reached for something that laid on the bed, then chucked it your way. you caught the item, moving it around in your hands — a thick coat.
you grinned, "thank you! it looks my size too!" you put on the coat, grinning as it fits almost perfectly.
he cracks a small smile, nodding. "not a problem, dollface."
Lucy looks between the two of you, watching as you take the coat off and throw it over a chair. you set down your heavy bag and pull your boots off, throwing yourself face first into the bed. god that feels good, you think to yourself.
Cooper huffs, throwing his duster over your new(ish) coat. "c'mon move those legs, else you're sleepin' on the floor." Lucy's eyes widen, he'd never, right? though the tone in his voice doesn't hold an ounce of seriousness. well, just the part where he asked you to move.
you groan into the mattress, mumbling something he can't hear. "c'mon, move it doll," he grunts as he kneels on the bed, strong, scarred hands gripping your thighs as he shoves you to one side of the bed and goes to lay down not before landing a crude slap on your ass. he rests his head against the headboard, his hat tipped forward to cover his eyes.
you let out a long, tired sigh, turning to face him. you lay beside him, hands idly fiddling with one of his belts. you lean in closer, voice hushed. "y'know," sleep lacing your voice. "managed to get her to ditch the suit, it'd be nice if you would say something,"
Cooper's hairless brows furrow as he sighs. you let out a yawn, nudging your head against his shoulder as you slowly drift asleep, hands merely resting against his hip.
Lucy always finds herself quietly observing you two, watching the little strangely affectionate gestures between you and the man who seems to have it out for her. like now, she watches him sigh deeply, before lightly shaking his head.
"hey Vaultie?"
Lucy nearly jumps at the sound of his voice, even though it's quiet as to not wake you.
"yeah?" the corners of her lips almost twitching.
"'bout damn time you got rid of it."
Lucy's lips pull into a small smile. the comment might not have meant much to anyone else, but to her it was neutral, rather than his usual hostility. and she'll take any win, no matter how small.
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TAGLIST ; @live-logs-and-proper @looonytooons @seeingstarks @thewastelandwriter @lacey-mercylercy @marina-and-the-memes @p4rsuade @anonymous-creep @likoplays @iceviolet11 @https-junebug @silverose365 @athanza @songbirdemerald-blog @justt-myth @looneylooomis @v3lv3tf0x @keyofgigi
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princessbrunette · 3 days
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dilf john b with a prickly beard eating you out and the hairs on his face keep touching your thighs and making you sensitive hmmm..
꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱ ౨ৎ⋆ ˚。⋆
i like the idea of dilf john b being a separate universe to dbf!john b. instead, he’s just some random dilf you picked up that you’d grown rather attached to. i’d spoken about this a loooong time ago, how he’s just some local guy who frequents at the restaurant you waitress at. he’s always there with some friends going over what looks like maps and other blueprints, but his eyes always linger on you when you pass— smiling at you kindly in his front facing baseball cap and printed shirts and something about him just made you trust him. one thing leads to another and soon he’s the only man you can fuck, because no one else has experience like john b. no one can make you cum like john b.
you’re staying at his house, it’s the middle of the night — you’re hot, too hot, squirming on your back in just his tshirt as he tries to sate your squirmy and whiny mood by eating you out. maybe you’re just hypersensitive to everything, or overstimulated but the feeling of his stubble growing in was making you extra tearful — the short hairs making your thighs sore and pussy sensitive.
“oww, john b!” you cry out for the third time in the past few minutes. the man pulls back just slightly to press a soothing kiss to your lower belly, smoothing a hand up your skin to comfort you.
“mm, i know. i’m here bubba.” his voice is warm and deep, weathered by the years just a tad that made it rumble just that little bit more. you let out a squeak with your bottom lip between your teeth, your legs falling open limp.
“s’hurting me. so scratchy.” you’re so wound up you can barely talk, sweaty and flustered and he’s just being so patient with you that it’s making your stomach hurt.
“i thought you liked the stubble. hm?” he chuckles, taking a break between your legs to kiss back up your body until he reaches your face, smearing your own juices on your cheek as he kisses you all over. you groan, and he wipes it away with his hands.
“i do. m’just sore.” you complain, and his gentle smile doesn’t budge. it never seems to, not when he’s with you anyway.
“how can i make that all better, sweet girl? you still wanna cum for me? or do you wanna cuddle up and get some rest?” he communicates and you feel like crying at the idea of stopping.
“wanna cum. wanna cum so badly.” you sniffle and he nods.
“okayokay— can still do that for you sweetheart. take some deep breaths, yeah? not doing this if it stops being fun for you angel. i can’t.” he keeps his tone kind as to not set you off.
you suck in a shaky breath and nod. “okay.” you whisper and he kisses you on the centre of your forehead.
“good girl. gonna rub that pretty clit now, kay? make it all better? that alright?” he raises his brows, and even in the dark you can see the way his forehead creases up with weathered lines. you lick your lips, tasting yourself on them still from the kiss you shared and nod once more. no one could do it like dilf!johnb.
꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱ ౨ৎ⋆ ˚。⋆
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dumpywrites · 2 days
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Cat-enaries - Min Yoongi / Suga
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Part two of Cat-astrophe 
Summary: all these series of meaningful acts, but you still don’t know where your relationship stands. 
Genre/tags: Fluff, smut (protected sex, vanilla)
Pairing: Yoongi x she/her/afab reader
a/n: this is my first time writing smut! T_T
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Ever since that eventful night you spent at Yoongi’s place, where both of you got drunk and eventually ended up sleeping on the same bed together (just sleeping!), and him wanting to get to know you more, you continued to see each other more and more. Mostly after you came back home from work, but it could be on weekends too if both of you did not have any other plans. 
After a while you began to know some of Yoongi’s friends, and same thing for him as well. He had a small circle but you were surprised on how they bring out the best out of him. He had been doing all these small gestures just like randomly giving you snacks, offering to babysit your cat when you were busy, or just simply wanting your company while he was producing music. Occasionally he would invite you to a party from his management, where you met his co-workers. 
He would only introduce you by your name though, never any label following behind the introduction. A friend? A neighbor? No, just your name. All these things he had done, and never once did he ever mention about relationship, or at least to put a name on your situation. 
It had only been three, going on four months, you kept telling yourself. Maybe he wanted to get to know you slowly and throughly and did not want to rush things. But then again, you knew how straightforward Yoongi was and he would had at least said something about it if that was the case. Maybe it was for the best, reminding yourself of the traumas you got from your past relationships, maybe it was better to take things slowly. But what made you anxious was the thought of falling by yourself.
Tonight you both agreed to watch a horror movie together at your apartment, with the occasion being you just got a promotion. The promotion happened two weeks prior, but both of you were busy. Yoongi had already sent you a dozen of donuts as a celebratory gift, but you insisted on wanting to spend some quality time with him.
“Have you eaten?” You asked as you opened your apartment door for Yoongi. 
“I have.” He simply said and immediately bent down to greet your pet who was meowing by his feet. 
“He misses you.” 
“We see each other a lot, don’t be a clingy cat.” He smiled and booped the cat’s tiny nose. He picked Cookie up and lightly kissed his forehead before letting him back to roam around the house. 
The scene made your heart race and you cleared your throat. “Well, I also miss you.” You said, hoping Yoongi would catch your intention. 
“I miss you too.” He giggled and ruffled your hair instead, before walking to sit down on your sofa, completely unaware by how disappointed you were. “We’re watching Exhuma, right?” He asked. 
You hummed in agreement, hoping he wouldn’t catch the slight disappointment in the tone of your voice. “You wanna drink something?”
“Anything’s fine.” 
You muttered an “okay” before going to your fridge and grabbed two cans of Sprite and small bowl of popcorn you had made beforehand. You sit down next to him and played the movie and thought to yourself. There wasn’t really anything affectionate happening after you spent the night at his. You had never really kissed officially with you being sober, maybe only once when he kissed your forehead when you went to roller skate together, that was if that could even be counted. 
That day you were struggling to keep your balance and he caught you in his embrace just when you were about to fall frontward. He was laughing and despite being annoyed, you couldn’t help but to get swayed by the sound of his laughter. You didn’t get to process it that much when you felt his lips lightly pressed against your forehead. It happened just for a few second before he let go and simply asked if you were okay. 
Reminiscing the moment had your whole body warm. You put your feet up and hugged your knees together. Yoongi looked to your side, noticing your behavior. 
“Are you cold?” 
“Uh, I don’t know.” It was the opposite, you dummy! You secretly complained. 
“Here,” He grabbed you by your shoulder and scooted you closer to him. “Better?”
“Slightly.” You said, you didn’t realize you were pouting while saying it. 
Yoongi sighed, but a small smile was on his lips. “Only slightly?” 
“Only slightly.” You were annoyed by this point, but you felt awful for wanting to ask, and basically begging, for any skinship from him. 
“Hey, what’s wrong?” He softly asked while stroking your shoulder gently. 
“Do you not like me like that?” You said while avoiding his gaze. “Am I reading the whole situation wrong? Do you just wanna be friends?”
Yoongi chuckled and it annoyed you further more. He had the audacity to find this hilarious while you felt confused and hurt. 
“Yoongi, this isn’t funny.” 
“On what situation is what we’re doing considered as just friends?” His words immediately made you look back at him. 
“I don’t know! You never really said anything about us being a thing, anything, and…” You found it hard to admit that you basically were asking for his affection. “Nevermind, this is stupid! Let’s just get back to the movie…”
“Look at me.”
“No.” You refused, even when your heart was beating faster at his request. 
“Y/N, look at me.” He said again, this time softly grabbing your chin to make you face him. 
Not a single word came out from him after that, only him dipping down quickly to meet your lips. You were surprised but shortly melted into his kiss and found yourself returning it. He was taking his time tasting your lips. His kisses were very gentle that it almost made you beg for more. Slowly his tongue made an entrance and you welcomed it swiftly. A small low moan escaped your lips as you parted them wider for him to access you. 
And when it was done, mainly because both of you were completely breathless, Yoongi hugged you. He chuckled and this time you couldn’t help but to smile as well. 
“I like you. Maybe in love at this point.” He confessed with you still wrapped in his embrace. “I couldn’t recall when exactly the shift to love began and I’ve been thinking to myself these past few weeks… but every time I see you, I keep wondering if there was even any moment when I wasn’t.”
You blushed at this and snuggled closer, hugging him tighter.
“I feel like I’ve been buying extra portions of my food a little too often, been on Instagram more just to send you some random internet memes that you like so much, been making sure I hear that door opening sound when you come home from work, been thinking about you twenty four seven that my music starts to have your vibe, the melodies just sound like they were made for you and I couldn’t even explain how…” He chuckled at the last mention. “The composer even told me that my work has a romantic touch to it lately.”
He broke the hug so he could look at you and smiled, showing his gum a bit. “I’ve given up cause honestly, I can’t even remember what was life before all these feelings.” He shrugged playfully. “Honestly, I don’t think I even wanna remember how life feels without these emotions.”
Your eyes got teary all of the sudden. Your view was getting a bit blurry. A small laugh, mixture of both relief and happiness, escaped your very own lips before you crashed them back on his. Yoongi immediately wrapped his arms around you, pulling you back close to him. The kiss was more desperate this time, demanding, needy, but most importantly, filled with overwhelming feelings you both had for each other. 
Yoongi swiftly pulled your body and brought you on his lap without breaking the contact on your lips. A muffled squeal came out from you, but you instantly put your arms over his shoulder, deepening the kiss. 
After moments of tongue dancing between the two of you, you pulled back first because once again he had you breathless, but it seemed like he didn’t want you to rest yet, as the moment you pulled away, his lips found their way on your neck, leaving trails of the softest kisses. You bit the insides of your lower lip, trying to subdue the moans that were eager to get out. His thigh being exactly between your legs was certainly not helping you either. Hearing you trying to conceal your voice made him looked up. The sight of you flinching concerned him. 
His right hand palmed your cheek. “I’m sorry, are you uncomfortable? Is this too much?” 
You blush at the tenderness and shook your head in disagreement. “No… uh, I’m not uncomfortable…”
Yoongi smiled at you and quickly kissed your forehead. “Okay.” He simply said, before he went back to put his attention on your neck, showering it with pecks. You were still making low sounds, not trying to conceal your voice as much, just humming with your mouth closed. Your body was still tense but was progressively easing the more his lips kisses you. 
His hands started to move up underneath your top, just shyly under your bra, as if he wasn’t sure if you would grant him more than that. When an open-mouthed moan finally came out from you, Yoongi took it as his green light and began to bring the movement of his hands upwards, gently fondling your clothed breasts, which promptly made your body turned into jelly against him. You could only bury your head on his neck, letting him continue toying your chest. 
Your eyes shot open at the feel of him unclasping your bra. The touch of his palms meeting your bare breasts sent heat through you that instantly went south. You whimpered and hugged him close, burying your face further on his neck. 
“You okay?” He chuckled, not stopping but decreased the pacing of his hands. The angle now making it awkward due to your body pressing closer to him. 
“I’m just shy.” You said while still not moving from your position. 
“You don’t wanna continue? Cause I don’t mind.” He said as he moved one hand to soothe your back. 
“N-no, Yoongi I just… kinda just getting all insecure cause it’s the first time you’ll be seeing me and I’m just scared if I’d look weird to you.” 
“You’re perfect.” He told you and he meant it. 
“I haven’t done this in a while.” You said with a slight moping tone. 
“So do I.” He took your hands to pry them apart from him. He guided them to his chest where you could feel his heart beating rapidly. “Do you think I’m not nervous?”
You looked at him and couldn’t help but to smile. But when you looked down, you realized a growing bulge was present and that seemingly he was not only nervous, but excited as well. 
“You also seem excited…” You giggled. 
“Not exactly my fault now is it.” 
“It’s okay,” You looked up to the ceiling. “I may or may not be soaking through my panties now as well.” That earned a groan from him. 
“Do you want me to help?” He breathed out. His hands now holding your waist steadily, thumb grazing your underboob. “Or we could totally just makeout and it’s alright.”
“Yoongi.”
“Yeah?”
“Continue… please.”
He groaned once again before lifting both your top and bra at the same time. As the garments sat just above your chest, the view of your nipples perking out just for him had the man salivating. Slowly, he lifted you to his side and laid you down so you could rest on your back on the sofa. He bent down and proceeded to pepper your chest and breasts with soft feather-like kisses, almost as if you would break if he pressed harder. He looked up and felt his ego somewhat boosted with the scene of you biting your lips, whimpering. 
He kissed your right nipple and began to sensually nip and twirl his tongue around it, that was it for you. You fully moaned when his right hand pinched your left nipple and twisted it. You brought your hand to your mouth, trying to repress the arousing sound coming from your mouth from being too loud. 
“It’s just me.” He mumbled into your skin, one hand went to trace the line on your back. 
But that’s the problem. Yoongi himself was your main weakness. 
He continued to play with your twins, lapping the buds with his tongue, making sure he gave both of them the same treatment. Slowly his right hand traveled downwards, caressing your middle through your sweatpants. Your breath hitched. 
“Everything okay?” He asked again. 
“Y-yeah.” You managed to vocalize. 
“Can I take these off?” He said, tugging slightly at the band of your pants. 
You only nodded and he kissed your forehead. He proceeded to deliberately slide down your bottoms, leaving you with your exposed panties. 
Yoongi gulped at the sight of your damp underwear. A small patch of wet spot could be seen and he could not lie to himself and felt proud of his doings. He bent down and kissed your lips for a second before flashing a soft smile. 
“Can we continue in your room?” Before you answered, he followed. “I want you to feel comfy while I eat you out.” 
That sentence almost had you hollering.  
“Okay…” You breathed out heavily and took his hand, dragging him inside your bedroom. 
Just after he closed the door, for a split second you saw a smirk visible on his face, before he scooped you up in his arms. You gasped, and he quickly pecked your lips before gently laid you on the bed. He brought his right hand to caress your thigh softly, slowly moving upwards to your crotch area. You moaned instantly at the contact. 
His middle and ring finger moved up and down, petting your core through the cotton cloth. The pace slowly increasing, and so did the volume of your pleas. You could feel your body turning into jelly already when neither his fingers or lips had touched your naughty bits yet. 
Finally you felt one of his finger tugging and pulling your underwear. You gladly, almost too eagerly, helped him by wiggling out from it, as you watched him pulling it loose and dropped them to your floor. He pulled you slightly so you were close to the edge of your bed, and he bent down on his knees. He gaped at your glistening core, and he really was ogling for a hot minute, lost at his thoughts. 
“Stop staring at me like that.” You quickly clamped your legs together. 
“I’m sorry, I just couldn’t believe this.” He chuckled, hands on your thigh, meddling your legs back to spread out for him. “I haven’t done this in a while…”
“You’ve told me.” Your eyes searched for his. 
“No, I mean, I might be rusty… if it feels weird or if you wanna stop, we can stop anytime.”
You could see the nervousness and self-consciousness in him and it made you wanna love him even more. 
“I just wanna taste you so bad right now.” 
He hunched closer in between your legs and dived in. He licked a bit, tasting you in his tongue. At that moment he decided it was his favorite flavor. He licked a full strip your labia, before then letting his tongue danced around it, making out with your cunt. He tried to make a mental note on which part made your back arched, which side made you moan louder. Hoping the next time, if you would let him, he promised himself he would make you feel ten times better. 
A loud yelp came out from you when he slid in his middle finger. You bit your lips, feeling shaky. He carried on trusting you, slowly in and out, pacing increasing at the same time as his tongue on your clit. He then added his ring finger and you felt it effortlessly sliding into your sopping wet hole. The attack from both his tongue and fingers quickly trembled you down. You felt your stomach came into a knot and your insides clenched. 
“Y-Yoongi… I…”
You could not form a sentence and Yoongi seemed to be too immersed to respond your pleas as he kept his tempo. You were grasping onto the bedsheets, back arching towards him, and then the orgasm hit you. 
The image of Yoongi smirking with your slick trailing down his chin would now be forever embed on your brain. It would certainly be in your dreams for quite some time. 
“That was… okay, right?” 
“That was incredible.” You said through panting. 
The guy smiled and kissed the crown of your head. He pulled his t-shirt off in one go and kissed you once again. You broke off the kiss first, pulling him by the neck so he could crawl on the bed with you. Now with you under him, he then kissed your neck before sliding your cropped top over your head, making you fully bare before his eyes. 
“Beautiful.” Yoongi said in a low voice. 
The compliment flipped your stomach upside down. “How come I’m the only one completely naked…” 
Your comment earned a smile from him. “Would you help me then?” 
You blushed, but did not oblige. You didn’t waste any time and helped him out from his pants. 
“Wait.” 
He suddenly stopped mid through. His pants were already down to his knee area, and it couldn’t be helped that all your attention were now heading towards his massive bulge that wasn’t in any way shy behind his boxer brief. He stepped down the bed, finally taking off his pants fully. You could see him taking out something from his back pocket before he let the cloth fell down joining the rest of your clothings on the floor. 
“You came prepared.” You commented with a teasing smile after seeing the item he took out from his pants. 
Yoongi just looked at you with a hint of red decorated his cheeks. You found it extremely adorable that he was bashful about it. 
You took his hand and pulled him back with you on the bed. He put the condom on your bedside table, before dipping in to kiss you. It seemed like you both had found out that kissing each other was the best thing and you felt dumb for not doing it sooner. As he kissed you passionately, you were hesitant for a second, but you slowly brought your hand to feel up the swelling bump on his below. You swallowed his groans in the kiss as you continue to stroke up and down. Breaking the kiss, you mumbled something about wanting to return his favor, but Yoongi grabbed your wrist immediately, stopping you from taking off his boxer. 
“At this rate I’m going to cum in my pants so maybe next time, sweetheart.” He kissed your forehead.
When he free himself from his underwear, your jaw dropped along with it. Of course you were no saint, you had caught a glimpse of his groin area before when he wore that one gray sweatpants that you fancied. You were in fact suspecting that he was at least a little above average, but not this. He had completely proven you wrong. Quite frankly, you had never thought about how beautiful a male part could be until you saw his. 
You gulped your saliva and salivate the mesmerizing scene in front of you, watching as he ripped the condom pack with his teeth and rolled the rubber from his tip downwards. He positioned himself in between your legs, sliding his tip up and down on your entrance, which made you whimper instantly.
“Yoongi… please…” You pleaded.
“If it hurts even just the slightest bit, let me know, okay?” He said, caressing your hair. 
You only nodded and soon after you felt his tip entering you ever so gently. You moaned loudly and it seemed like the movement not only affect you, but Yoongi also, as you saw him closing his eyes shut, grunting along with you. He slid in very carefully, making sure you were adjusting well with his girth. When he reached a certain length, you yelped. 
“Did I hurt you?” He suddenly asked out of worry. 
“No… it just… it just feels very full.” You managed a smile to reassure him. 
“Okay.” He breathed out, combing his locks through his fingers. “Let me know when I can move.”
You touched his hand to catch his attention. He looked at you with a wary expression. “You can move, I’m not that fragile.” 
He muttered a stuttered “okay” before sliding himself deeper. He lunged deep and out slowly, making love to you passionately. He intertwined his fingers with yours, going on a soft tempo, as if he was trying to confess his feelings through, making sure you feel how sincere he was. You brought your hands to cup his face, then stroked his hair, before putting them over his shoulders to pull him close. Your lips met again in the middle, muffling your moans through the tongue lacing activity. His hands were cupping your breasts, fondling with them as your kisses went harsher and sloppier. 
And when he moved from your lips to kiss your chest, you bucked your hips against him, with your hands ruffling his hair as he tongue your nipple carelessly. His tempo began to distort and the knot in your stomach started to feel too much and you knew you were close. 
Not long after you came to release, he followed soon after the feeling of you clenching hard over his cock. The sound of both your heavy breaths filled the room. Yoongi once again dipped down to kiss you. Starting from your forehead, your nose, your cheek, and lastly your lips. You giggled in between every single one. He then got up to tie the ends of the condom, timidly walking towards your bathroom to where your bin was. When he was done, you were now lying to your sides, curving your legs in a fetal position.
Yoongi approached you and slowly cuddled you from behind. You automatically scooted closer to his body warmth. 
“This is oddly familiar.” He chuckled. 
You recalled the first time you spent the night at his place by accident, when you woke up with him cuddling you exactly like this. Minus the nakedness of course. 
You turned your body to face him. A huge smile was plastered on your face. “I hate you.”
“I’m sorry?!” He eyed you with an annoyed expression. 
“I’m so madly in love with you it’s insane!” You smacked his chest lightly.
“I’m sorry, I guess I was just afraid of moving too fast. I haven’t been in a relationship in a long time and I was worrying if I’d make you uncomfortable…” 
“I thought you had decided that you don’t like me or something… I was even jealous of Cookie when you kissed him!”
“I noticed.”
“You noticed?! And you chose to do nothing???” You huffed.
“You looked cute so I decided to leave you be.” He snickered. 
“You’re evil.” 
“You’re evil for wearing that extremely tight crop top today.” His eyes travelled down and up to your nude body.
“It was… on purpose.” You bit your lips. “I guess it worked? Haha?” 
He raised one of his eyebrows at you and smirked. “Give me five minutes and we can go again.”
“Oh my god??? Who are you?! Give me back my cute and shy Yoongi!” 
You squealed as he laughed and hugged you close. 
“I love you.”
“I love you too.” You said, followed by a loud smack of smooch to your cheek from him, then he flashed you his gummy smile. 
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Thank you for reading! 💎
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taglist: @yunaurlove @waitaminswife @yoongisababygoat @hazyjoon @callsignwidow @ai-des-blog-blog @jovanaprime @bangtanmisser7 @angelk0503
229 notes · View notes
solar-wing · 2 days
Text
⚣ Dick Grayson: NSFW Alphabet 🔵
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⚣🔵 Words → 3.5k
REBLOGS & replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💙
⚣ ENJOY 🔵
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A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
Caring and attentive. In other words, cling as hell.
It’s amazing how someone who was just fucking you like an absolute slut could turn into the world’s most innocent and soft boy in existence. When you think about it, it’s actually a little bit disturbing as well.
But, I digress. Dick will absolutely pick you up and carry you into the shower or whatever you desire. He’s also perfectly fine with lying in the mess. He doesn’t care as long as he gets to cuddle you right after.
He will have an overwhelming smug attitude though, especially if the sex was preceded by an argument, disagreement, or the acrobat just wanted to teach you a lesson. He can be a little shit when he wants to be.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
I feel like we all know the answer to this one.
Dick’s butt is praised so much, that you already know he puts extra time and care into making sure it stays nice, right, and tight. He not so secretly loves when you play with it as well, whether it’s a light slap or pressing up against him even though he’s always the top. Notable mentions: His chest, abs, and thighs.
If you assumed his favorite body part on you was your ass, you’d guess right. Congratulations! You win nothing except a hard and playful smack on said ass from the acrobat. You’re welcome! Honorable mentions: Your waist, thighs, and chest. His weakness is any kind of jiggle and he is not ashamed or afraid of getting caught staring.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
He may not play basketball but he’s a shooter (kill me). He can pretty much cover you anywhere or reach your furthest depths inside (careful if it’s M-Preg or he’ll definitely be the father).
He’s equal with where he likes to cum. He likes to sum on your face, chest, and body just as much as he loves to shoot down your throat and inside your hole. And the filthy little acrobat will definitely lick your cum off his hand after stroking you to your own finish. Let’s be clear now, this man has no shame.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
Dick’s got a body count. Not as high as Bruce’s maybe but it’s up there. He can play innocent all he wants, but that man can and will get down when he’s feeling it.
Which, speaking of, he has definitely used Nightwing to land him some ass. No, I will not be taking questions.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
Again, he doesn’t exactly have the title of a playboy like his adoptive father, but Dick’s been around the block. So he definitely knows a thing or two when it comes to the down and dirty.
Even if you are experienced yourself, I can guarantee Dick knows some tricks you don’t know which will have you, well…let’s save that for the bedroom, shall we?
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
Face down, ass up, and no that was not a suggestion. Dick absolutely favors any position where your ass is bouncing in his face. Doggy, reverse cowgirl, spooning, standing behind, anything.
He also loves a good 69 moment and enjoys the missionary positions where he can really put in some power while inside you. You on the bed and him standing, countertop, or a stand-carry.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
If you know Dick’s personality, while the boy can be an absolute menace in the bedroom, he’s still a goofball at heart. Also, known for his witty banter, you can expect some wild stuff to come out that man’s mouth while he’s cumming to yours (tee hee).
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
Dick is definitely well-groomed. He used to be a performer so he always took extreme care of his appearance. Keeps himself shaven and clean-cut, which definitely makes him appear bigger, as well as keeping those areas down there fresh and ready for any kind of play.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
Dick is a romantic at heart. As much as he can be a little dominant shit in the bedroom, he’s always down for some soft love and intimate moments.
Candles, roses, food, massages with kisses down your body, maybe a little romantic dance before you get sweaty. You name it, Dick’s already thought of it and is thinking of more. Just as much as he wants to please you sexually, intimacy and romance never is off the table.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
Dick is probably the most sexually active just behind Bruce, so you can definitely imagine that boy is no stranger to an evening alone with just him and his hand. Just as much as he knows how to please others, he knows how to please himself.
He knows when he’s in the mood to drag it out and edge himself while imagining or watching some slow, soft dirty dancing, and he knows when he’s frustrated and just needs to rub one out to get the edge off a little bit. Again, you won’t find many things in that realm that Dick has not either already tried or even just learned about.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Role-Playing: Once again, I bring up the fact that Dick is a retired performer. You know he’s one for the dramatics and theatrics, especially when it comes to sex. Whether it’s Nightwing coming to the rescue of some helpless dude, or instead that same person being abducted and forced to serve Nightwing to earn his freedom, nothing is off the table. And yes, as I just implied, that included CNC (Consensual-Non-Consensual). He’d never push you too far (unless variable circumstances apply), but he’s down to play any role. He’s the cop and you’re the guilty criminal he’s just arrested. You’re his student and desperately need a passing grade to graduate.
BDSM: He’s not too much into the lifestyle, but he definitely dabbles. He likes certain aspects of it, specifically the bondage, Dom/Sub roles, and getting to inflict punishments (his favorite being spanking cause it means he gets to play with your ass more). This also helps a lot with this abducted, helpless victim role-play when he gets to pull out the cuffs, rope, blindfolds, gags, and whatever else he’s got lying around. And he’s not opposed to the roles being reversed.
Dirty Talk: The guy is all about using his words remember. Self-explanatory.
Public Play (Exhibitionism): Dick’s not a sex addict, but he might as well be one with the way that man will drop his pants without a second thought, no matter where he is. Of course, he’s not just going to outright start doing it in front of others, but the thrill of pulling you into a dark corner, alleyway, restroom and the risk of you getting caught will always get him excited. Double points if you actually do get caught, because again, this man has no shame.
Honorable Mentions: Edge Play (choking/breath play), Impact Play (sub of BDSM, spanking, paddling, etc), Wrestling, Daddy kink, Mirror Sex, etc.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
As we just went over, public places really get Dick going. Especially if he’s out as Nightwing and wants to pull you into a random alley or bring you to some high-up rooftop, he will happily christen a surface that is not within the confines of his own house or private dwelling, and he won’t feel bad about it.
Other specific places?
The shower, any counter or table surface, the Batmobile, his motorbike, literally anywhere in his apartment, etc.
He really has no reservations about where he does it, as long as he can get up in you, he’s content.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
#1 – He’s a horny bastard: Again, he’s not a sex addict, but he sure has the sex drive of one. It doesn’t take much to get him turned on. A casual, suggestive sentence, the way your shorts are really highlighting your work in the gym, how you're sucking on the straw while sipping your drink, or even when you’re just standing or sitting doing nothing, that man will get hard and he will pounce on you.
#2 – Domestic Actions/Life: This is something I forgot to mention with Jason so I’ll mention it here because I’m definitely head-canoning that they both share this in common. Any kind of domestic act. You cook him dinner when he comes home or pack his lunch before he heads out for the day. Helping clean up his house or doing his laundry and folding his clothes. Running him a bath, washing his hair, giving him a massage after a hard day or night. Waiting up for him in bed after patrol and patting the space once he changes out of his uniform, laying down and letting him vent about anything on his mind while you rub his body or head. All of it and more will definitely have him up and ready for fun.
#3 – Jealousy: Now, you may think I mean when someone flirts with you and he gets all macho and protective, rah rah rah. Nope, not at all (unless we’re talking Alpha Dick in Omegaverse. Then, that’s different because, by the rule, it’s a part of his biology to be). Dick is actually quite casual and will find it humorous when someone tries to even think about flirting with you in hopes of stealing you away from him. He knows his worth, and even more, he knows how good his dick is. He’s not worried. But, when it’s the opposite, and someone flirts with him because again, this man is literally one of the most attractive beings probably in the entire world, he absolutely will be turned on at the sight of you staking your claim on him, chasing off any hag dared flirt with him in front of you.
Honorable Mentions: Arguing/Make-Up Sex, Clothing, exercising, any kind of physical touch.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)
Nothing that could involve serious injury or blood. Also, nothing even remotely unsanitary. I mean scat/throw-up/piss.
Also, he may be into very public displays of affection but do not get it twisted one bit. Dick is not into any type of sharing. He’s a sweetie at heart, but don’t piss him off with that ridiculous idea.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
Dick is the goat of throat. Yeah, I said it…what you gon do? Beat my ass or something?
Just kidding, but no seriously, this man has a reputation known among his sexual partners for the danger to society that is his mouth, and not when it’s giving off a witty/sarcastic remark. He’s been known to drive some people to the brink of insanity, metaphorically speaking of course. But, then again, you never know with these people.
He loves to receive head and loves to give it even more. Especially when he gets to play with your balls and deny your orgasm every time you reach the edge, the little bastard. Same can be said if he’s munching on that hole too, which he eagerly does cause the sight of it puckering and winking at him sends all the little happy flutters to his own groin.
Now, if we’re talking again about receiving, and you think you’re gonna have him putty in your hand like he does with you, think again. This man is the definition of a seasoned veteran. There’s only been one known time he’s ever gotten overwhelmed and came from just head, and that was when he was a teenager. If you’re hoping to do that now, you’d better have expert-level skills, cause he will test you. Facefucking, choking and gagging, and whatever else that comes to mind.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Depends on the mood.
High off adrenaline after an intense patrol or fight? Congratulations, you’re about to be his next victim. You got jealous and cussed out someone for trying to flirt with him? Prepare to learn a whole new meaning of getting rough sex. Wore some 3 in shorts to the gym AND did a leg day? Gon head and bend that ass over, you’re about to experience why he’s called ‘Dick’ rather than ‘Rich’ or something else for a nickname. Please cancel any plans you have for that evening or the next day cause you may not be able to walk, stand, or even move for that manner.
On the opposite side, did you take his Nightwing suit and hand wash it, making it look like the day he first put it on? Sweet lord, you’re a treasure and he’s about to show you why. It’s your anniversary and you got him one of the most beautiful and sentimental gifts? You and your body are about to be treated like an award that he is the sole recipient of. You cussed out Bruce after he did something stupid and reckless again involving Dick or one of the others? Not only is Jason blessing the ground you walk on, Dick’s about to drop down on one knee and propose, and then proceed to treat your body like a slut in the most romantic and sensual way you could ever imagine. As a precaution, still, go ahead and cancel any future plans just in case.
Dick truly has no preference other than whatever he’s feeling at the moment. Long, deep strokes, or quick, fast juts? Whatever gets the job done and reminds you there’s nobody better than him is good in his book.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
Dick loves quickies. As chaotic and busy as his life is, he practically lives off them and craves them.
Again, this man should have his headshot in the dictionary next to ‘horny’ or promiscuous. Cause if it was up to him? He’d be screwing you once every 2 hours at least. Whether it’s a quick handjob he’s giving you, or he’s got both your pants down while rapidly fucking into you cause he’s only got five minutes before he has to get back, he’s doing it.
The man thinks they should be protected and enshrined into law. That’s how much he loves them.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
He’ll try anything and everything under the sun and moon as long as it’s not one of his already-mentioned no-no’s. If it adds excitement to the routine, why not? You never know with that man.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
Very adamant stamina. His plentiful experiences have shaped it, and his physical training and endurance have added to it.
That man can do multiple rounds in a night, ranging anywhere from 3-5, and maybe even more if just that kind of night. He also knows his body, and can/will do what he needs to do to drag one round out for as long as he can until not only is he satisfied himself, but he feels he’s adequately satisfied you. And to be clear, you have absolutely no say on whether he feels like he’s satisfied you or not.
So please, get used to the idea of being overstimulated and crying at the 3rd or 4th orgasm he gives you before he’s even had one. It’ll save you a lot of frustration (not really but you get what I mean).
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
Dick, who again, will and has tried everything under the moon and sun. Of course, he has toys. What do you think this is? A playground? Please…
And trust, he’s going to get more. He’s probably signed up on a loyalty program with a sex store or website, and best believe he’s got diamond status.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
A prayer for the innocent soul who unknowingly awakens the playful, petty, and vindictive part of Dick Grayson’s personality, especially when it comes to sex. May god, the universe, karma, whatever else have mercy on your soul and may the odds ever be in your favor.
There’s a reason I call Dick Grayson a little shit, bastard, fucker, and other various names because that is literally what he is, and I love him the more for it. He doesn’t get angry, upset, or even mad (unless it’s something serious). No, he gets petty, and that turns into him being the most teasing piece of shit in the bedroom, especially if you’ve challenged him in some kind of way.
Orgasm denial, forcing you to be quiet and stay still, sensory overload, multiple orgasms, and overstimulation; all this and he hasn’t even put his tongue on you yet, let alone his dick anywhere near you. That man is vindictive and will play on it until his heart’s content. Please, tread carefully when choosing whether or not you want to fuck with this man, especially if he’s in a mood.
Matter of fact, just run. Actually, don’t do that either. He likes the chase. FUCK! You’re screwed no matter what (metaphorically AND literally).
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
Dick gets loud. And he wants you to get equally as loud with him.
He’s not afraid to let out the sluttiest sounds, from soft and quiet moans to loud and debauched shouts from the top of his lungs. He can be quiet if need be, but he’d rather not. He enjoys the idea of people knowing he’s getting lucky and, even more, the idea of people knowing you’re getting lucky from him.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
That man has an obsession with doing it in his Nightwing suit. You think he picked that style and aesthetic for something as useless as flexibility, quick movement, and durability? Absolutely not. 
Dick absolutely knew what he was doing when he had his suit designed. He wanted to look like a slut and nothing more, and that's okay! I mean, come on, you think his ass looking that good in his uniform was a coincidence? A mistake? How innocent and naive of you.
Everyone should have known Dick’s true intentions when they saw how sinfully deep the cut was in his first suit that we all know and love as Discowing. That man fully intended for his suit to be something he could fuck up and fuck dudes in while looking hot. It was non-negotiable.
Look at him.
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Like, I'm sorry, but what the hell do you mean I’m not supposed to be turned on and have my legs divorcing like a whore who's being prosecuted in a court of law due to adulterous behavior with this standing in front of me? Are you unwell?!?!?
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Yeah, respectfully no. I will forever headcanon that Dick Grayson knew exactly what he was doing when he had his suits designed, and it was the complete opposite of what everyone was saying.
“Dick is quick and agile."
"He’s lightweight on his feet."
"He needs a suit that will support and accentuate his acrobatic skills.”
Absolutely not. That man is (respectfully in an empowering context) a slut, on the inside and out, and he wanted a suit that would best show it to the world. I will not be gaslit into believing otherwise.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
What Dick lacks in girth, he makes up for in length and skill. He’s definitely not thin, but he's a little under-average when it comes to thickness. Somewhere between 6-7 inches.
More than likely cut, and has a voluptuous head that’s perfect for sucking on and teasing.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
We’ve discussed this in great length, multiple times. It’s self-explanatory at this point. The man is basically the human equivalent of a rabbit or bunny.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
Dick can stay up long after the round has been up, especially if he’s in a mood where he wants to talk. Ironically, after fucking like some wild animals with the most questionable mindsets and morals, he loves to shoot the shit and have pillow talk after.
I don’t know how many times I have to say it, but Dick is basically a chatterbox and will ask you about your day, what you had for lunch, who pissed you off at work, and more while still buried inside of your ass with your dick pressed between both your stomachs. He’s also content with turning on the TV or whatever screen is available and watching a movie or something until you both fall asleep. Mind you, he’s probably still inside you and is going to try his best to stay inside even if he’s gone soft and keeps slipping out.
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☀️ | Dick Grayson/Nightwing | ☀️
☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️
300 notes · View notes
slutmegeto · 3 days
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selcouth.
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requested! plz, write a satosugo x reader fictional where y/n feeling left-out and insecure in the relationship ( full of angst and yandere vibes). requested by! @lolitamermaid123
tw. stockholm syndrome, yandere, dubcon, noncon (to be safe), dumbification, orgasm control, orgasm denial, sex toy, threesome, geto and gojo manipulate you into liking them, use of pretty/angel/baby, mention of starving, implied kidnapping. daddy kink, dom!geto, switch!gojo, sub!reader mdni!
pairing: satosugu x f!reader
it had all started a week ago.
geto and gojo had went from dominating your time, never letting you have a moment of peace and constantly, consistently touching you, kissing you, being with you to acting like you didn't exist.
that had gone on for a few weeks. maybe a month, maybe two, the concept of time had been stripped from you the second the two of them had taken you. it was hard to tell what day it was, or even what time it was, when you were stripped from leaving their apartment. you weren't allowed to go outside, not without them and even then that happened rarily.
and when they left (which was rare; usually at least one of them was home), they usually kept you locked to their bedroom. they professed it was because you couldn't be trusted yet, that you needed to earn that trust before you could have free roam of the house and you'd given that fight up a week or two ago when it led to inevitably nothing but pain.
if geto was out, gojo wanted to cuddle. he'd wrap his arms around your waist and pull you flush against his chest and keep you close. if you had to pee, he'd come with you. if you were hungry, you had to wait. he'd surround you and wouldn't back off until geto came back and then he'd bound up to him and then the both of them would surround you.
geto would be most of the same. he was a little more freeing. he'd let you at least pee on your own and he'd make you something to eat if you were hungry. but he liked to keep you close, sometimes he'd put on a movie and have you sit on his lap. he especially liked when you played with his hair and you'd learned that when you did favours to them, they were nicer to you.
it was worst when they both were home. always two pairs of hands surrounding you, holding you. they never got sexual unless they were both home, some sort of rule they'd promised to each other. but they were insatiable the second they both had you. you rarely had a moment of peace, their mouths on you, their hands carressing you; both of them fucking you.
it was exhausting and overwhelming.
so why were you so upset they weren't doing that anymore?
you shouldn't be. you should be happy, relieved... maybe they were getting sick of you; maybe all you'd been, depsite their words, was a toy for them to test out some of their kicks on and that was it. maybe... maybe they'd even let you go soon.
the hope of that lingered, and, yet... your heart would burn with hurt when they started leaving you alone more. now, gojo wouldn't stay if geto left or vice versa. they'd leave together... just leave you. they wouldn't say bye, wouldn't smile at you or kiss you or say they'd be back soon.
they'd just leave...
for hours. you were still trapped in the bedroom, still locked away. sometimes, they'd leave you some food but most of the time they didn't... as if they'd forgotten. you'd be starving when they'd come bakc hours later and then, geto would prepare something half-assed that barely fed you.
yet, the worst was when they were home. you'd be allowed to roam the house, go where you want (except outside). but, they still ignored you.
they'd sit on the couch together, cuddling, lips pressed against each others. all while you stood there, watching. they'd make no room for you, taking up the whole couch, and leaving you to sit on the single seat by yourself. you'd try to focus on whatever they'd put on the tv, but your eyes would always inevitably drift towards them and watch as they blatantly ignored you.
it wasn't just that. you had no idea what they did when they left, or why they were gone so long but you knew what they were up to when they did it front of you. they'd wander to the bedroom and you'd follow behind, trailing like a lost puppy, only to see them taking each other's clothes off, kissing and eventually fucking each other.
without you.
it should make you happy. this is what you'd been wishing for since they'd taken you. to leave you alone, to stop forcing themselves on you...
but, it didn't make you happy. not at all. it hurt... burned in your chest and made your heart ache. it twisted you with something uncomfortable, chest tight and loneliness flooding through your veins as they ignored you.
you weren't allowed to leave, you weren't allowed to see anyone else but they people you'd had to depend on for human interaction, gave you nothing. you... you had no one.and didn
they'd told you they loved you. when they'd taken you, they said it was for you... because they loved you so much and just wanted the best for you. when they'd forced themselves on you that first night, you realized, they'd still been doting. whispering praises to your cries, tell you how good you were being and drowning you in pleasure.
when gojo cuddled, he told you it was because he loved the feeling of you against him. when geto made you brush through his hair, he said it was because he loved when you touched him.
when they kept you locked in the bedroom, they said it was for your own safety. they didn't want you going outside because they didn't want you to get hurt or taken or...
those word, those praises and those bullshit lies suddenly didn't fill you with anger. and didn't feel like bullshit anymore. it didn't make you want to claw out their eyes or hurt them for hurting you... instead, it filled you with a warmth you longed to feel again.
the warmth felt wrong. you knew it. but you couldn't make it go away.
with everyday that passed, the ache grew worst. it festered, deep in your chest, made it hard to function or think straight. it hurt so much that by the end of the week, you were at your wits end. you were hungry, starving... neglected and ashamed.
i'm not good enough.
they don't love me anymore...
maybe they think im not good enough for them.
maybe they think im not worth it for anyone.
these words burn in your mind, ripping any peace of mind you tried to obtain. you couldn't think straight, couldn't do anything...
it's inevitable. still, you lose it the saturday night, marking a entire week.
they'd both been home all day, but still, they continued to ignore you. wrapped up in each other's arms all day, you'd watched, neglected and dejected, in the background as they continued to act as if you aren't there. their eyes wouldn't even meet your own, solely focused on each other.
it twisted something nasty in you, brought you to a point you couldn't control it anymore.
watching them on the bed, stuck at the door, as geto pulled gojo's shirt off, slow, dragging his mouth up his toned chest. gojo's hands threaded through geto's hair, lips pressed against each others, the sounds of their mouths and breaths taunting you.
a sob wretched from your throat before you could stop it, loud and pathetic, gaining the attention of the two men as the tears poured down your face profusely. you stood there, sobbing and sniffling, looking like a wounded child, as both geto and gojo glanced at you, before sending each other knowing looks.
"what's wrong, baby?" gojo asks, pushing himself off the bed, shirtless and slacks hanging low on his hips as he crosses the distance over to you. geto trails closely behind him, and the two stand in front of you, towering over you, concerned eyes waiting for an answer.
you just continue to sob.
"y/n?" geto pressed, voice still soft but a little sharper.
he wants an answer.
"do you not love me anymore?"
the word come tumbling from your lips, choked in your own tears as your hands come to your cheeks.
"what?" gojo asks, incredulously, as if he can't believe your words. "why would you think that?"
"be—because!" you cry out, turning to glance at the both of them through blurred tears. "you—you... both ignore me! you don't cuddle with me anymore or make food for me and you guys leave.... for—for hours... and—and..." you can't finish your words, the image of them making love to each other while you watched too painful.
a hand falls on the back of your head, another pulling your hands away from your face. gojo and geto crouch down, to meet your eyes properly, and gojo's brushing your tears away from your face as geto brushes your hair back, tucking it behind your ear.
"we're sorry, baby," geto coos at you, fingers brushing against your cheek. you miss the look he sends gojo or the smile gojo sends back. "we thought that's what you wanted?"
your wide eyes fall on him.
"you were always crying and pushing us away, angel," gojo explains, shaking his head at you. "so we were trying to give you space."
that's right... you were always pushing them away. you always cursed at them, called them the wost things, said you hated them... you had done all of that.
but... why?
"i—i..." your mind scrambles for an answer, but you can't find it.
"is that not what you want?" geto asks softly, head titling in wonder.
"i..."
is that what you want?
"no," you whisper, the decision coming to you when you couldn't imagine saying otherwise, "no i don't want that. i want you two to... to love me again."
"oh baby," geto tsks, "we don't hate you... do we, satoru?"
"of course not," gojo says without hesitance, pressing a kiss to your cheek. your eyes flutter shut at the touch, body tingling at finally having their attention on you again. "we love you so much. but we were hurt by your actions."
your heart spikes. "i'm sorry!" you cry out, turning to him with wide, scared eyes as the tears well again. "i'm so sorry! i don't know why i did that! i... i want you both..."
they both smile, impressed.
"it's okay, pretty girl," gojo assures, nodding down at you. "we forgive you."
"of course we do," geto smiles, shifting on his feet. "we're sorry we hurt your feelings too. made you feel unloved... we should make that up to you, shouldn't we?"
eyes flooding with hope, you meet his eyes before turning to gojo. they're both smiling, hands reaching for you.
"o—okay," you whisper, nodding, "i'd... i'd like that."
sending each other a look, geto and gojo are quick to act on their words. they grab you, guiding you towards the bed, and with ease, strip of your clothes. they leave you with your bra, a pretty pink lace one they'd bought for you; you'd been trying to wear the gifts they bought you to hopefully get their attention.
if the smirks on their faces and pleased expression are anything to go by, it seems it worked.
geto behind you, holding you around the waist, pressed into his lap and gojo sat in front of you, both of their eyes never leaving your basically bare figure, gojo chuckles.
"we should have her like this all time," gojo mumbles, not talking to you but geto. "she doesn't need to clothes."
"i agree," geto hums out, his much larger hands pressed against your tummy. "we could buy her those pretty camisoles... have her dressed up for us everyday." then, with a pause, his head falls on your shoulder. "would you like that, y/n?"
your cheeks burn at their words and their unwavering gaze, but still, you nod smally. "if... if you guys would like that."
your small little whispers goes straight to their dicks.
hands dragging across your bare thighs, gojo lets out a growl; "that's a good girl."
"our good girl."
"hmm," gojo nods to geto. "yes."
gojo then shifts, leaning over the edge of the bed as you watch on in curiosity. he doesn't take him long and when he sits back up with a vibrator in his hands, your body shifts in geto's grasp, twitching as your anticipation builds.
"we're gonna play a little game," geto explains, watching your reactions with a pleased grin. "gojo's going to make you feel good with that vibrator, but there's a twist."
"what... what is it?" you ask hesitantly, eyes unable to leave gojo as he shuffles, moving so he's pushed back, vibrator held tauntingly in front of your pussy.
"you can't cum until i tell you you can."
that breaks you from your stupor. "but... but i don't know if i can hold back."
"you can," geto dismisses, voice commanding. "you can and you will."
"it feels much better when you hold back, baby." gojo explains, "suguru's done it for me before. you'll feel really nice."
your body tenses with nerves, unsure if you really can but not wanting to disappoint them anymore then you have, you nod. "okay."
pressing you further against his chest, geto takes your legs and wraps them around his own, leaving your legs wide and spread and unable to close on your own. he takes a clothed breast in his hand, pinching your nipple between the lace as you let out a cry in response, and then, gojo presses the vibe against your clit, fingers spreading your lips and turns it on.
you jump at the vibrations, your pussy extra sensitive given how it's been ignored for so long. they've never used a vibrator on you before either, only ever pleasuring you themselves. the vibe is a whole new sensation and you shiver as the pleasure builds, geto's fingers working your nipples, twisting and pulling.
"ahh!" you cry out, biting your lip to muffle your cries.
geto slaps your breast a second later. "don't," he orders and you tilt your head back to meet his gaze. "we wanna hear your crys. be loud."
"scream our names," gojo calls out in response, grinning lecherously as you.
swallowing thickly, you let your lips part, and just as you do, gojo increases the strength of the vibrator, it shooting into your core instantly.
your back arches, a cry pulling for your lips. "ah! oh... oh! suguru! satoru!"
"does it feel good, baby?" geto asks, pressing his hand against your stomach to force you back down, limiting your movement as the other hand shifts to your neglected breast, squeezing it in his large hand. "tell us how it feels!"
gojo leans forward, pressing his lips against your inner thing and bites down.
"ah!" you scream, feeling the coil tighten as you squirm. "it feels... feels good! too good! i can't... it's too much!"
"it's not enough," gojo corrects, and as if in punishment of your words, he increases the vibrator once more, on it's final setting. "that's enough."
"you're so wet," geot whispers into your ear. "i can see your juices spilling all over satoru's hands from here."
"she's soaking," gojo smirks.
your hands find purchase on geto's thighs, nails digging as your head falls back against his shoulder. gojo presses a line of kisses against your thighs, all while never giving you rebrief from the vibes against your clit.
"ahh! mm, please! please! please, suguru... ah—satoru!"
"please what angel?" gojo teases, "use your words."
"i—! i'm going to cum!"
"don't," geto hisses, pinching your nipple harder then he had before. "don't until i tell you i can!"
his words fill you with frustration, trying to squirm closer to the vibe but his hand against your stomach keeps you stilled, much stronger than you. you hear gojo chuckle at your useless squirming, biting down on your thigh particularly hard in a way you know will leave a mark.
"please!" you cry, eyes filling with tears as the sensation grows too strong and the need to cum grows desperation. "please let me cum!"
"no," geto relents, shaking his head. "hold it!"
"i can't!" you scream.
"you will," geto growls. "or we'll go back to ignoring you."
your body stills, forcing yourself to hold back the orgasm that is at the brink of spreading through your entire body.
"suguru," geto laughs, "so cruel."
"she needs to learn."
gojo just continues to laugh, pressing the vibe harder against your clit.
"oh—oh my god! i can't! please, please, please!" your cries turn incoherent, a slur of words leaving your lips in desperation.
"please, what?" geto prompts.
mind a fog, you shake your head.
frustrated, geto pulls your left breast out of the cup of your bra, taking your nipple bare and twisting until you're screaming in response to the extra, painful sensation.
"better answer him, angel," gojo croons, "suguru doesn't like to be ignored. and i want to hear you say it too."
mind reeling for the answer they're searching for, you spit out the first thing that comes to mind. "please, daddies!"
there's a pause before geto laughs, cruelly; "not what i was expecting, but it works."
gojo shrugs up at him; "kind of hot, huh?"
"yeah," geto breathes, pressing a kiss to your neck. "definitely."
frustrated and desperate, feeling ignored all over again, you let out a growl; "let me cum!"
at that, you receive a harsh slap against your breast and then, gojo pulls the vibe away without a word. you sink at the loss of the vibration against your clit, your orgasm ripped from you as the slap against your breast stings as you whine out in indignation.
"none of that attitude," gojo frowns up at you. "we don't like that tone."
"we'll stop right now," geto warns. "i won't let you cum at all if you try to throw that again."
panic seizing you, you're quick to shake your head. the realization that you'd disappointed them again makes your heart ache and you're quick to try and rectify. "i'm sorry! i'm sorry! daddies, i'm sorry! i won't... won't do it again." you plead, voice pitching your eyes well with tears. "i promise."
geto waits a moment, leaving you in suspension and fear. "and you won't cum until a say, right?"
you nod.
another slap to your breast.
"words."
you're quick to oblidge. "i won't cum until you say, daddy."
"wah," gojo whines, still holding the vibe tauntingly in front of you as your eyes fall on him. he's pouting. "don't forget about me."
"i'm sorry, daddy," you plead at him. "i promise i'll be good."
gojo grins and geto nods at him and then gojo is pressing the vibe against you once again.
you start from the beginning after having your orgasm ripped from you cruelly. the vibrations start slow again, gojo slowly working you up as you twitch in geto's grasp, until it's at it's strongest and the coil is close to snapping.
"please! please, suguru, i've been good," you gasp, body on fire. "can... can i—ah! can i please cum?"
"what do you think, satoru? can she cum?"
you watch as gojo shrugs, a whine leaving your lips. "i dunno. does she deserve it?"
"yes!" you cry, body spasming. you're about to pass out if they don't let you soon. you can't... can't hold it back anymore. "yes! i'll be good! i'll be good, i promise. i'll do anything!"
hearing the words they'd be aiming for, geto turns to gojo who nods up at him.
then, your prayer is answered.
"you can cum."
his words are like a miracle. hearing them, and you let everything go. the coil snaps as the pleasure burns through your entire body, spasming violently in geto's grip as gojo's nails dig into your thigh, holding the vibe in place. your eyes roll to the back of your head, choked gasps and moans pouring from your lips.
"ahh! it feels so good! so good!" you cry, the sweat on your forehead causing your hair to stick to it, blinding you through a mess of yourself as you ride out your orgasm. "thank you! thank you! thank you for letting me cum! feels so good! ahh! mm!"
"that's our good girl," gojo coos, pulling the vibe away to stare at your puffy, red and wet pussy. "such a good girl. listened to us perfectly."
geto presses kisses along the crook of your neck, hot and warm that has you tingling in response as your high slowly fades and your exhausted body falls against geto with exhaustion.
geto's hands leave your breasts as he brushes your hair away from your face. "yes," he agrees, voice softer her than it had been before. "that's a good girl."
you shiver at their praise.
"thank you," you whisper, "thank you, daddies."
"that's a cute nickname for us, baby," gojo laughs. "you like us being your daddies?"
you nod, shivering as geto moves your thighs off of him so you can close them, incredibly sensitive.
"yes," you moan, not fully aware of what you're agreeing to, mind blank.
"look at that, suguru, she's all fucked out."
"looks so fucking hot," geto hums, shifting so he can get a better look at you. "looks like our plan worked too."
gojo nods. "i was hesitant... but it seems you were right. she just needed to learn what happens if she doesn't do as we ask."
"poor girls mind is more fragile then she thinks, huh?"
geto's hand falls on your chin, guiding you to look at him as your head lulls in his grasp, not comprehending a word they're saying.
"she's our pretty dumb girl," gojo laughs. "all ours."
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literaryavenger · 3 days
Text
Careless
Summary: Part 2 of Thoughtful.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avengers!Reader
Warnings: My poor attempts at being funny. No use of Y/N. Fluff. Angst. Tony being kind of an asshole. Bucky's self-deprecating thoughts. Reader being dumb.
Word Count: 1K
A/N: I keep having no idea what this is, I have no endgame but I hope you enjoy!
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Part 1
Stark parties are a hassle. Tony always insists on the team dressing up, cocktail dresses, tuxedos and all that.
So that’s why you’re all dolled up right now, a black sparkly floor-length gown that highlights your curves perfectly with a slit that goes up your left thigh with black stilettos, your hair curled perfectly and your make-up on point thanks to Natasha and Wanda, gold hoop earrings finishing the ensemble.
The only thing that looks like it doesn’t belong on your right now are Bucky’s dog tags hanging from your neck.
Things with Bucky have been going relatively good, you’re not really dating but neither of you let a moment pass without trying to flirt with each other. You enjoy the attention he only gives you and he enjoys making you flustered.
You’ve even managed to make him blush himself a few times.
You haven’t taken his dog tags off since that morning Bucky put them on you, and that’s not gone unnoticed by the team who have had a field day teasing you about it. Just never enough to bother you and make you want to take them off.
Until now.
“Come on, they look so out of place!” Tony says while chuckling as you roll your eyes, drink in hand while you stand in the middle of the party while talking with Tony, Scott and Maria.
“Leave her alone, Stark.” Maria comes to your defense and you give her a grateful smile. All the girls think it’s adorable that you wear Bucky’s tags.
“He’s not wrong, though.” Scott chimes in. “That’s a beautiful get up, but the tags stand out, and not in a good way.”
Anyone else, you’d be creeped out, but you know Scott is in a happy relationship with Hope and he doesn’t mean anything by it. He’s more of a girlfriend at this point.
“I don’t care.” You say simply, sipping your drink. “I like them, and I’m not taking them off.”
“You haven’t taken them off in weeks.” Tony points out, a dangerous smirk starting to grow on his face. “Could it have anything to do with the particular soldier that gave them to you?”
You roll your eyes, knowing where Tony’s going with this because he’s gone there countless times now.
“It has nothing to do with Bucky, I just like them.” You say causally.
“You like him.” Tony says childishly while the other two snicker at your groan. “Maybe you even love him.”
You scoff and almost glare at Tony. “I don’t love him.”
“Then prove it.” Tony says without missing a beat. Obviously he has you exactly where he wants you. “Take them off.”
“What would that even prove?” You roll your eyes again.
“Prove to me that they don’t mean as much to you as I think they do. Take them off.” He keeps grinning at you, challenging you.
“You’re a child.” You say simply, having no intention to accept this silly challenge.
“Yes, I am.” He says and all four of you chuckle, before Tony takes it one step further. “Take them off for a week and I’ll give you ten thousand dollars.”
You give him an unimpressed look. It’s not a surprise, Tony’s known to do this kind of thing all the time. He once bet Sam twenty thousand dollars if he went streaking for at least 4 blocks around the tower.
His ‘falcon’ was on the paper the next day.
“Come on, if you’re so sure I’m wrong, why not make some money off my arrogance.” Tony says with a smirk when you narrow your eyes at him, he knows you’re considering it.
“Fine.” You say after a pause. You hesitantly take the tags off and put them on Tony’s outstretched hand. It’s only a week and it doesn’t mean anything, you tell yourself.
Unbeknownst to you, Bucky saw the whole thing from a distance. And it meant plenty to him.
He couldn’t hear what you were saying even with his enhanced hearing because you were far away and the party noise was almost deafening, but Bucky saw you clearly as you took off his tags and gave them to Tony.
To Tony.
Did they not mean as much to you as they did to him? Was this whole thing just a joke to you? Was he making a fool out of himself thinking you liked him as much as he liked you? Maybe you just liked the attention. Maybe you were fucking with him, having fun at his expense because he convinced himself you like him, because how could he even think someone like you actually likes him? Maybe you’ve been laughing behind his back while he’s been falling for yo-
“Hey, Sergeant Grumpy.” His thoughts are interrupted by your playful voice that just a minute ago was the single greatest sound that he wanted as the soundtrack of his existence for the rest of his life.
But right now, it’s making his nostrils flare with barely contained anger while he almost glares at you.
You think nothing of it, convincing yourself that maybe the party is making him anxious like it usually does. After all, Bucky doesn’t do good with strangers.
Or maybe Sam has been getting on his nerves more than usual tonight. Whatever it is, you want to make him feel better.
So you wrap your hand around the tie of his suit and pull him towards you a little, copying the move he’s now done countless times with his dog tags around your neck.
“You wanna hear something funny?” You ask playfully, wanting to tell him about the bet you just made with Tony and thinking Bucky will get a kick out of it and it’ll take his mind off of whatever has him in a bad mood.
But you get no chance to say anything more since he takes your hand away from his tie.
“Leave me alone.” He says with a harsh tone you’ve never heard him use towards anyone, let alone you. “Forever.”
That said, he walks off and out of the room in the direction of his quarters without giving you a second glance, leaving you to look after him, too dumbfounded as your mind tries to play catch-up.
What the hell just happened?
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