Note
A jobe one where he gets jealous about a guy trying to hit on you but doesn’t say anything all day. Since he doesn’t like to talk about things you think he’s mad at you. But after his brother let it slip you finally understand and confort him. Angst plaza thanks
Size of the moon — Jobe Bellingham.
Pairing: Jobe Bellingham x Fem!Reader
Summary: Jobe was never the jealous type, so when he suddenly pulled away and seemed almost angry, you hadn’t the slightest clue why. That was until his brother blabbed and you finally understood.
Word count: 820+
Disclaimer/s: angst to comfort <3
A/N: I get so many req’s to post more for Jobe so here hope you’re happy with this one!
It’s been a long, exhausting night. You, Jobe, and Jude had all gone to a new club a few blocks away from Jude’s house in Madrid. It had been fun, until the end. Somewhere along the line, Jobe had gotten… distant. His arm stayed wrapped around your waist toward the end, but he didn’t look at you, speak to you, nothing! It was really getting on your nerves.
He hadn’t even bothered to walk beside you to the car like he usually would. He practically insisted Jude sat in the passenger seat instead of you. It was weird. It was off, and you did not like how upsetting it had made you.
The tension in the vehicle was heavy. Your eyes roamed to Jobe’s face in the rearview mirror, and every other minute you’d see his eyes flicker up to catch your stare, yet he stayed silent.
You notice the way he gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles growing white with the grip he had on it. You were concerned to say the least. He never acted like this for God’s sake.
One thing that bugged you like no other, was when Jobe got mad. He always went silent and shut you out completely. There was no communicating with Jobe when he was like this.
Jude glanced back at you, giving you a small apologetic smile. You wave it off, turning your attention to look out the window to watch the streets zoom past.
At Jude’s house, Jobe had shut the car off and promptly opened your door before walking inside without waiting for you. His brother on the other hand, waited. His hands stuffed in his pockets as the two of you made your way to the door.
“What the hell is his problem?” You hiss, glancing up at Jude with a deepening frown.
The older man shrugged sheepishly, “not too sure.” Liar. You knew that wince in his face. You hadn’t grown up with the brothers just to not notice their small quirks.
“Jude.” You warn, “don’t lie to me right now.”
Opening the door for you, Jude caves. “When you went for a refill.. the guy at the bar? Apparently it sort of looked like you were flirting with each other. He’s just being jealous and acting out. It’ll be fine.”
You most certainly were not flirting with the loser at the bar. He’d just made you uncomfortable, and without your boyfriend nearby, you made small talk until you could get away!
Making your way to the spare room you and Jobe were staying in, Jude’s words clouded your mind. You open the bedroom door to find Jobe was grabbing clothes and heading to the bathroom.
“Jobe.” You sigh, “come on, don’t be like this.”
He spares you a small, tight lipped smile. “Like what? I’m fine.” His eye twitched slightly. Liar.
“I was just trying to make small talk until I could get away from him. I wasn’t flirting.” You explain quickly, before he could enter the bathroom.
The taller boy halts his movements. “Jude can’t keep his mouth shut for shit.” He grumbles, “you shouldn’t have even entertained the guy. He had no business talking to you.”
Setting down your purse and phone, you make your way toward your boyfriend. You wrap your arms around his back and torso, connecting your hands in the front to lock in place.
“No shit. But, he didn’t take ‘my boyfriend’s waiting for me’ as seriously as most might. I was so uncomfortable, but he wouldn’t leave me alone. It wasn’t my fault.” You mumble against his back. “Plus, he was short. You know I don’t bother with short guys.”
That elicited a small huff of breath from Jobe, a proud grin growing on his face. “Is that so?” He couldn’t be upset, you were right, and he believed you.
Jobe wiggles out of your grasp, but quickly loops his own arms around your waist. You quirk an eyebrow at him, “isn’t it quite obvious?”
“I suppose.” He sighs, moving a stray strand of hair from your forehead and pressing a kiss to the exposed skin. “‘M sorry.”
“Yeah, so next time, maybe voice your discomfort rather than me having to strangle it out of your brother.” You flick his chest lightly, though you weren’t all too upset about it.
“Yes ma’am.” Jobe nods, pausing for a moment, “strangled? Really?”
You laugh, shaking your head. “Yeah, no. It took very little words for him to spill. As always.”
Your boyfriend shakes his head, quiet breaths escaping his lips. “I do need to shower, though. So you can badger me more about my communication when i’m finished, yeah?”
Nodding, you tilt your head up to patiently wait for a kiss. Jobe grins before meeting yours with fervor, his arms wrapping tighter around you. “I’m all yours, you big baby.” You mumble against his lips, causing a smirk to grow on his at your words.
Likes , comments , and reblog’s are all appreciated. Lmk if you’d like to be tagged in any of my posts.
DTS , @halfwayhearted @spidybaby !
#jobe bellingham#jobe bellingham x y/n#jobe bellingham x you#jobe bellingham x reader#light angst#hurt/comfort#blurb#football#fluff#angst#angst to happy ending#fanfic#sunderland afc#jude bellingham
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Keep it on ✰ MS
───~𓆩♡𓆪~───
fwb!matt! Your friend (with benefits) bought a new pair of glasses, a sight for sore eyes—and an even sorer aftermath.
Warnings! Smut!, obscene descriptions!, petname (pretty), p in v, unprotected sex (don't do this irl, this is just fiction, protect yourselves hoes<3), friends with benefits, size kink (kinda), dunno what more,
wc. 1,146
You and Matt had decided on this weird arrangement after accidentally hooking up at a mutual friend’s party, both having drunk a little too much and zero fucks to give—you stumbled into a spare bedroom and woke up entangled in each other’s arms.
The compatibility was so good that the arrangement seemed logical. No strings attached, just feeling the bliss and having a friend to talk to that you knew wouldn’t judge you; almost too good to be true.
He was addictive.
Today was like any other day; with you knocking on his front door, ready to have the "much–needed" relief. As soon as Matt opened the door, you felt your breath hitch, he looked like a vision, the hair, the stubble, the clothes, the glasses– wait the glasses?
You blinked and stood there entranced, making Matt let out a small chuckle of amusement, "you gon’ stand there all day pretty?" You snapped out of your thoughts at his words, suddenly very nervous and fidgety, "yeah– no, uh... pardon my intrusion," your words came out more like a mumble as you slipped in through the door, your nervousness evident.
You cleared your throat and looked around briefly, "Nick and Chris aren’t home?" You asked, trying to distract yourself.
"Yeah, they were talking about going somewhere today, I’ve been alone all day, it’s a good thing you came, I was getting bored out of my mind," he chuckled as he saw the small fidgeting you were doing with the hem of your shirt, "you nervous or sum’?" Your eyes widened briefly, "whaaat? Me nervous? M’never nervous around you," you downplayed, laughing, but the slight quiver in your voice gave you away.
Matt chuckled again, "right, definitely not nervous, not at all," he said with playful sarcasm.
You couldn’t help a chuckle at his teasing words, even if it was at your expense. "You’re wearing glasses." You stated the obvious. "Yeah, does it look weird?" He asked, grinning while fixing his glasses, "no, not weird," you clarified, "it’s just that I’ve never seen you in glasses before, but I have to say, ’s not a bad look on you," smiling as you gave him a teasing nudge on his arm.
Matt smiled back at you, and took your hand, already leading you to his room. "Well, since my brothers aren’t home, might as well use it to our advantage, no?" You let out a small laugh, "yeah, not like we don’t use any moment of solitude to our advantage," you said as you let yourself practically get dragged into his room.
𓆩♡𓆪
After making out and having a slow sensual foreplay, you had become a needy mess. Your insides craved to be filled by him—the glasses perched on his nose didn’t help your ache, only worsened it. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you pulled him closer, eliciting a hum of approval from Matt. He broke the kiss, leaning forward to get a condom out of the bedside drawer.
"Hold on pretty, lemme put on-" you stopped his hands from ripping the condom, "do it raw today, I wanna feel you." A soft groan left his lips as he threw the condom somewhere on the bed, "you’re gonna kill me someday, woman," he breathed out, lining himself at your entrance, prodding but not pushing inside. You bit the side of your bottom lip, rolling your hips as you tried to push him in yourself.
"Matt... c’mon." You whined in frustration, the ache too much to ignore– or go along with his teasing. "Mm... you want this big dick in you huh? Want me to stretch you— split you open with it?" His voice was strained, letting you know that he was just as affected as you were.
"Please Matt, yeah... Please, I need you so bad... c’mon," you pleaded, your voice laced with desperation and pure need. Your hands trailed down his chest towards his stomach, his muscles tensing under your fingertips as shuddering breaths left his lips. "You’re so pretty when you beg like that," he praised, making you look at him with pleading eyes, silently conveying your need.
"Please, Matt— I need it, I need you," he leaned down, his lips brushing against yours. "I know pretty, I know," he murmured against your lips before claiming it in a searing kiss, slowly pushing his thick length in, stretching you deliciously. A soft moan of pure, unadulterated, relief and pleasure fell from your lips. Matt pulled back until only the tip of his dick was inside before slamming his hips flush against yours, bottoming out as he groaned into the crook of your neck.
The sudden feeling of being filled to the brim made your back arch, sharp moans exited through the "O" shape etched on your lips. Your hands clutched desperately at the bedsheets, trying to ground yourself from the intense pleasure as he pounded into you. He snaked one arm under the arch of your back, holding you tightly as his other hand held your hip—with bruising strength.
The subtle hint of pain caused your pleasure to double.
𓆩♡𓆪
Matt groaned in annoyance as his glasses kept slipping down his nose – due to the sweat-slicked skin – his hand on your hip reached for his glasses but you held his forearm, stopping any further movement. Matt’s pace faltered as he looked down at you, confused, "yeah? What’s up pretty? You okay? Am I being too rough-" You chuckled breathlessly at his concerns, "no, no, don’t worry, you’re not being too rough, I just..." You paused.
"You just?" He repeated, panting softly, slowly rolling his hips against yours. A breathy moan fell from your lips, "well, just keep it on alright... you uh... you look good in it, the glasses I mean." You said, still breathless, mumbling an add on, "delicious even," a slow smirk made its way onto his lips, now understanding why you were acting so flustered and fidgety earlier today.
Matt wiped the sweat that had been making his glasses slide, chuckling as he leaned down to your ear, his lips brushing against the shell of it. "Oh I’m gonna keep it on alright, the whole night even, m’gonna fuck this pretty little pussy so good—ruin you for anyone else," he whispered – a promise – before continuing his pounding, each one making your body rise up the bed.
Your tits bounced with each slam as he held you tightly, not letting you escape the intensity of it all. All you could do was cling to him and scream his name as he took what he wanted—what you wanted. Your nails dug into his back, making him hiss and shut his eyes in slight pain and pleasure, his pace never faltering.
The ecstasy etched on his features, the glasses, the stubble, the hair, the earrings, the chain— a sight for sore eyes indeed– and an even sorer aftermath.
𓆩♡𓆪
note. English is not my first language—if you didn't catch on with my poor vocabulary and writing skills.
Isa's notes. Yeah... Another smut? I'm so awkward when it comes to writing something like this 🫠 Also, something longer? Gee, I know, but the topic is too good not to write a longer fic to.
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#matt sturniolo#fanfiction#smut#blurb#matt x you#matt x reader#matt sturniolo smut#matthew sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#nick sturniolo#chris sturniolo#matthew sturniolo blurb#matthew sturniolo oneshot#matthew sturniolo smut#oneshot
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pray to god this won't be a mess
word count: 3235 Who knew a piece of clothing could start so much trouble?
“Whose hoodie is that?”
“Huh, what?” Angela glances up from her phone startled as Chanse pulls the chair out and sits across from her.
He inspects her and points at the logo on her chest, “The Bruins hoodie. That’s not yours.”
“How would you know,” she crosses her arms, obscuring the black and yellow “B,” though it was a fruitless effort since the large “BOSTON” letters were still visible across her chest.
“I know you don’t know jack shit about any sport, let alone hockey,” he accuses, “And if you did, why wouldn’t you be repping LA instead of Bost—ohhh, that’s Amanda’s, isn’t it?”
Angela rolls her eyes and picks up the menu from the table, pretending to flip through it. For a brief moment, she thinks Chanse has dropped the subject.
Right as she lets out a sigh of relief, Chanse asks, “Why do you have Amanda’s hoodie?”
“Are you a detective or some shit? What’s up with this interrogation?” Angela tsks.
“You show up for brunch in our friend’s clothes and I’m not allowed to be curious?” He huffs.
Angela pouts, “Okay, I don’t like your tone, mister.”
Chanse doesn’t say anything else, just stares with a look that screams “bitch, you’re not fooling me.”
“Alright, fine! It’s, uh, Amanda’s hoodie. So, what? Friends can’t share clothes anymore?” She’s flustered and she could feel her face heating up, but she refused to let Chanse see it.
“Friends can share clothes, sure. But…”
“Spit it out already, Chanse,” she’s nervously pulling at the cuffs of the sleeves, worried about what Chanse is about to ask her. There’s no question about what he’s going to say, it’s just that Angela isn’t ready to answer that question. At least, not now.
“You know, you and Amanda aren’t always ‘just friends.’ So, I don’t know, are you guys…seeing each other, like…officially?”
“You can use the word ‘dating.’ You sound like a fucking virgin,” scoffs Angela, hoping to play it cool.
“First of all, harsh—”
“It’s true!” She exclaims.
Chanse leans back in his chair, “—And second of all, you’re deflecting.”
“What do you want me to say? There’s nothing serious between us. It’s a…stress reliever, no strings attached.”
“Well, you seem pretty attached to that hoodie.”
“Argh!” Angela buries her face into her sleeve-covered hands and takes a deep breath. When she inhales, all she smells is the subtle scent of Amanda’s musky perfume lingering in the fabric. Her heart skips a beat.
“Does it smell like her?” He doesn’t even try to hide the smug look on his face.
“You’re fucking infuriating, you know?”
“I know. And that’s my job as your best friend,” Chanse laughs, “but it’s also my job to tell you when you’re acting like an idiot. And right now, you and Amanda both are.”
Angela runs her hand through her hair. “It’s really not that big of a deal, okay? I was at her place yesterday, and it got cold when I was leaving. And she had it lying around so she…gave me the hoodie.”
Chanse raises an eyebrow, his teasing grin fading a little. “And you didn’t think that meant anything?”
Angela shrugs, her fingers absentmindedly fiddle with the sleeves. “It’s just a hoodie, Chanse.”
Chanse narrows his eyes, leaning forward. “Uh-huh…”
“God, you’re impossible,” Angela deadpans.
“Look, Ang, talk to her,” Chanse says, softening. “You don’t want this to blow up, right?”
Angela lets out a long sigh, “Yeah…I know.”
“Good. So, you’re a Bruins fan now, huh?” Chanse teases, glancing at the hoodie one more time.
“Shut up,” she mutters, though there’s a small smile on her face as she picks up the menu again.
—————
Angela rubs her eyes and blinks, her vision slowly adjusting to the low light. Los Angeles is quiet at this hour, save for the occasional hoot of an owl. Not a car revving, a dog barking, a group of friends chatting and walking. A rare moment in Angela’s ever-busy life.
Moonlight streams in from the open window and illuminates the outline of the sleeping woman next to her. She watches the steady rise and fall of Amanda’s chest, memorizes the furrow persisting between her brows.
Shit, she wasn’t supposed to fall asleep here.
Carefully, Angela slips out of Amanda’s grasp, her friend’s arm having found purchase around her waist at some point during their nap. She doesn’t want to wake Amanda up, doesn’t want to make this more awkward that it already feels.
“Where are you going?” Amanda murmurs groggily, still half asleep.
Angela freezes in the middle of pulling her underwear back on, “Back home. It’s late.”
“Here,” yawns Amanda, ungracefully rolling out of bed, “I’ll walk you out.” She turns her back to Angela and throws on an oversized t-shirt and boxer shorts.
She shimmies the rest of her clothes on, as best as she can manage in the dark. When she feels she’s decent, Angela waits in the doorway to Amanda to join her. Together, they shuffle in silence down the hallway to the front door.
Angela fumbles a little with her shoes. She props a hand up on the wall next to her to steady herself.
Amanda asks, “Are you okay to drive home?”
“Yeah, it’s fine. I’m awake.”
Her friend isn’t entirely convinced, but she also knows there’s no point in fighting Angela once she’s made up her mind. Amanda unlocks the door and swings it open, hissing as the cold wind cuts at their skin. Even after living her entire life in the same city, Angela always forgets how chilly nights in Los Angeles can get.
She tries her best not to be affected by the weather, though she can’t help it when a shiver runs down her spine.
“Where’d you park, Ang?”
She points out the door to the left, “On the other street. It’s not that far, don’t worry.”
“It’s cold,” Amanda states plainly.
“It’s fine.”
But Amanda’s already begun rifling through her coat closet, “Take a jacket with you.”
Angela is about to open her mouth to protest when she decides against it. She’s tired, it’s cold, and she’s filled with a myriad of conflicting feelings that she doesn’t want to try and sort out right now.
She wasn’t supposed to fall in love. It’s not what they agreed on, right?
To be fair, they never explicitly outlined what the rules of this whole “friends with benefits” arrangement was going to be. Doing it at work was unprofessional. Texting about it felt impersonal. And talking about it face to face was hard when they tended to see each other like this when someone was a little tipsy.
But right now, Angela liked the warm feeling of being cared for. If this ever gets brought up in the daylight, she’ll blame it on the sleep deprivation. And plus, it’s not out of character for Amanda to be concerned like this. So, it’s fine. It’s. Fine.
“Thanks,” she takes the hoodie and clumsily wiggles herself into it. There’s a distinct smell to it, strong and grounding.
There’s a weight to it too, though Angela’s not sure if she’s imagining that part.
“Drive safe, baby,” Amanda smiles. That goddamn nickname.
“Bye, ‘Manda,” and she walks out the door.
—————
Her conversation with Chanse lingers in her mind throughout the next week. Every day, Angela brings the Bruins hoodie to work in her backpack, intent on returning it to its rightful owner. And every day, she returns home with it.
She tells herself it’s because the timing isn’t perfect. Amanda’s busy, distracted. She’s busy too—there’s too much going on in the office for her to be worrying about a hoodie. Yet deep down, Angela knows it’s more than that.
Each time she feels the soft fabric beneath her fingers, her mind spins with reasons to keep it. It felt like proof that outside of their work and group hangouts, there was something private and intimate that was just theirs.
And that was the problem.
Angela knew she couldn’t let herself want more, couldn’t let this thing between them get tangled with emotions. This isn’t what Amanda wants. And if Angela wasn’t careful, she was going to fall deeper than she already had.
It’s the end of the day Friday and Angela still hasn’t worked up the courage. She’s standing by her desk in the bullpen, cleaning up her things for the day, when Amanda approaches her.
“Heading out?” Amanda leans against the cement column next to her desk.
“Yeah, I’ve got rehearsals to run with Patrick for ‘Mamma Mia.’ You?”
“I’m gonna stick around a little longer. Selina, Shayne, and I have a meeting for the pod and Arasha wants me to look over a sketch idea she has.”
Angela looks down at her backpack, the yellow and black logo peeking out of the pocket taunting her, urging her to do something.
She blinks and zips it up, slinging her backpack onto her shoulders. While adjusting her camo hat, she looks up at Amanda, “You’ll let me know if you’re free this weekend? We should, um, hang out.”
Amanda nods, “Of course. Drive safe, baby.”
“Bye, ‘Manda,” and she walks away. There’s a feeling of deja vu that washes over Angela, leaving her feeling vulnerable and soft. Turn around. Turn around. Turn around.
“Wait, Amanda,” Angela stops so abruptly that she almost bumps into Marcus who was crossing in front of her.
She shrugs one arm out of the backpack strap and swings it around to her front, hands sweating as she fiddles with the zippers. She turns and walks towards Amanda again. From her backpack, she pulls out the Bruins hoodie and tries to hand it to Amanda, who surprisingly pushes it away.
“I always forget to give it back to you,” Angela chuckles nervously.
“Keep it, Ang,” Amanda shakes her head, smiling.
She stares up in confusion, “What? No, it’s yours. I’m not stealing it from you.”
“You’re not stealing, I’m giving it to you. Insisting too.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, it never really fit me right anyways. Plus,” Amanda winks, “it looks better on you.”
Angela hesitates, slowly retracting her arm and stuffing the hoodie back into her backpack, “If you ever want it again, let me know. I’ll give it back in a heartbeat.”
“I won’t, but I appreciate the sentiment.”
She’s unsure of how to respond to that, so she just stands and stares at Amanda.
“Take good care of it, Ang.”
“Okay,” is all she could mutter. She watches paralyzed as Amanda strolls past her and towards the conference room. It takes a couple moments for Angela to realize she must look like an idiot standing in the middle of the office like this and quickly heads out to the parking lot.
Once in the safety of her own car, she immediately texts Chanse.
angela: i tried to give it back chanse: wdym tried? angela: she told me to keep it chanse: ohhhhh bitch angela: i’m so fucked aren’t i? chanse: awww ang do you want me to come to you where are you? angela: it’s okay i’ll be okay
She leans her head against the headrest, closes her eyes, and takes a deep breath. Fuck me. There’s no denying it—Angela’s in too deep.
—————
“Angela?” Amanda calls out. It’s late, hours past midnight, and the festivities of Courtney and Shayne’s wedding party have long since died down.
Angela makes her way over from the room next door and cracks the door open. She spots Amanda standing in front of the full length mirror, “What’s up?”
Amanda glances over her shoulder, “I can’t get out of this fucking dress. Can you help me unzip it?”
“Sure,” Angela closes the door behind her to give Amanda some privacy.
When it shuts, Angela can physically feel the air in the room thicken. There’s been something unspoken hanging between them all night, all year even. Now, in a room alone and both their minds pleasantly clouded with alcohol, the tension feels practically suffocating.
Cautiously, Angela approaches Amanda, meticulously unhooking the clasp above the zipper and dragging it down tantalizingly slowly. Amanda’s smooth skin is a beautiful olive, dotted with light freckles from her summer out in the sun.
Before Angela can stop herself, she presses a kiss against Amanda’s spine. Amanda gasps at the cool sensation while the rest of her body heats up.
“Angela?” She asks again. However, the kisses don’t stop, and Amanda can’t control it when she screws her eyes shut, tilting her head back, and bites her bottom lip to suppress a moan.
“You are so fucking beautiful, ‘Manda. Did you know that?” Kiss. “You’re a goddess.” Kiss. “The kind of woman men used to start wars over.” Kiss. “I’m not worthy of you.” Kiss. “But I want you. Kiss. “Crave you.” Kiss.
Amanda reaches behind her and grabs onto Angela, her eyes still closed. Her nails dig into Angela’s skin. In her lust filled haze, Amanda hopes it’s deep enough that she’ll leave marks that will still be visible in the morning. She presses harder.
Again and again, they fall into bed together.
—————
Over the weekend, Amanda texts her several times asking to hang out. Angela sends back one or two worded responses, always something along the lines of “can’t” or “i’m busy.”
They don’t see each other again until they’re back in the office. Even then, Angela does her best to avoid Amanda. Other than the videos they’re scheduled for together, she doesn’t exchange a single word with her friend.
Amanda notices early on that something is off with Angela, though she doesn’t want to prod her about it, lest she make things worse with Angela with her worrying. She still asks around the office, however, hoping her friends also noticed Angela’s strange behavior. Unfortunately, no one else has.
“I know she’s been especially busy,” responds Arasha, “But she seems pretty normal around the office, so that’s good.”
Amanda hums in agreement, even if that answer was less than satisfactory. There’s nothing she can really do about it as of this moment. She can’t force Angela to talk to her, nor does anything seem to be severely wrong with her, so Amanda supposes she’ll just have to deal with the torturous silence for now.
Later, she follows Angela out to her car once they’ve wrapped for the day. This silent treatment could honestly be nothing and Amanda’s just been overthinking it all, but something deep in her gut is pulling her towards Angela, calling her to talk to her.
Even if it’s only been a couple of days, she’s already starting to miss how her name sounds coming from Angela’s lips.
She approaches the driver’s window and knocks, accidentally catching Angela off guard with the sudden sound.
“Holy shit,” gasps Angela as she opens the door, “You scared the shit out of me.”
“Sorry,” Amanda answers earnestly.
“Everything okay?”
“I should be asking you that.”
Angela looks away, uncomfortable, and lies, “Everything’s been good with me.”
“Then how come you’ve been ignoring me all day? You can’t even look me in the eyes right now,” Amanda says, growing a bit bolder.
“It’s nothing.”
“It definitely doesn’t feel like nothing to me.”
“Amanda,” Angela pauses, takes a deep breath, and looks back at Amanda with a neutral expression, “I think…it’s better if we stop seeing each other.”
“What?”
“Like…outside of work. At night,” Angela clears her throat, “When we…hook up.”
Amanda frowns, “Can I ask why?”
“It’s not you, it’s me.”
Amanda rolls her eyes, “You really think that line is gonna work on me?”
“What I mean is…it’s messy, you know?”
“No, I don’t know,” she crosses her arms, defensive.
Angela chews nervously at her bottom lip, “It’s just that we’re colleagues and we should try and keep things professional. It’s best this way.”
“Oh, so you know what’s best for me now?”
“It’s best for both of us. You don’t want anything serious,” sighs Angela.
“And you know what I want. Oh, good. You could start a business predicting people’s futures since you think you can read them so well,” spits Amanda, her voice dripping with sarcasm. She’s barely an inch away from Angela now—their noses are practically touching.
Angela’s gaze flickers from Amanda’s lips to the fire in her eyes and back to her lips, “What do you want then?”
Once more, the air is heavy between them, filled with some mix of lust, want, guilt, and regret.
Amanda can’t fucking bear the quiet any longer. She leans down and kisses Angela hard, holding the lapels of Angela’s jacket to pull her in closer. It’s rough and not the best kiss they’ve shared by a long shot, but it doesn’t matter because for the first time in months, it feels real.
She can feel Angela’s lips curve into a smile.
“Just to be clear,” Amanda barely manages to pull away, “What I want is you. In any way you’ll have me.”
Angela surges forward and kisses her again.
—————
“Shit!”
Angela whips her head around, pausing her stirring of the sauce pot, “What hap—oh.”
All the way down Amanda’s white top was spilt red wine—the glass in her hand was now completely empty. Angela covers her mouth, stifling a laugh, while Amanda stares at the stain in shock.
“Someone’s had a little too much to drink already,” Angela turns the stove down to low and wipes her hands haphazardly on a dish towel.
“I’m so sorry, this is not how I imagined our first date going,” Amanda is so visibly embarrassed, but Angela finds it kind of endearing.
“It’s okay, it happens,” she motions for Amanda to follow her, “C’mere, I think I have some bleach around here somewhere.”
Down the hallway, Angela pushes the wooden slat doors to her laundry unit open. She stands on her tip-toes to reach the bottle of bleach on the top shelf, almost toppling over in the process. Amanda wraps her arms around Angela’s waist to steady her.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m good,” Angela holds out her hand, “Give it here.”
“What?”
“Your shirt. How else are we going to get the stain out.”
Amanda blinks, “You want me to strip?”
“Don’t get shy on me now,” Angela rolls her eyes, “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”
“Unbelievable,” scoffs Amanda. In one smooth motion, she deftly pulls her top over her head and drops it into the washing machine, leaving her clad in a white lace bra. Angela swallows hard.
“Look who’s shy now,” preening at the way Angela’s eyes scan over her body.
“Shut up,” Angela shoots back, but her words come out more breathy than she intended.
“As much as I’m enjoying this, I’m going to freeze without a shirt. Got anything I can borrow?”
“Borrow? No. But to keep? I might have a few options.”
“Keep?”
Angela ducks into her room leaving Amanda leaning against the doorway, watching as she digs through her drawers. She pulls out a bright blue t-shirt with the letters “UCLA” front and center.
“It’s only fair,” explains Angela, tossing it to Amanda, “A Bruin for a Bruin.”
Amanda laughs as she pulls the t-shit on, “How long has that joke been sitting in the driveway?”
“I just thought of it, I swear!”
“Sure you did,” Amanda teases.
Angela tugs at her arm, pulling them back towards the kitchen, “C’mon, there's a bolognese with our names on it!”
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hiii
can you write caitlin x reader based on teenage dirtbag? like cait thinks reader is too cool for her? but reader has a crush on her? thank you
teenage dirtbag
caitlin clark x reader
warnings:none
starting as rookies at iowa, you quickly become a favorite on the team—always relaxed, easy to talk to, and somehow effortlessly charming. it’s not lost on you that caitlin clark, already a rising star, often grows unusually quiet around you, her usual confidence replaced by soft smiles and glances she thinks you don’t notice. at first, it’s easy to write off as nerves, but as the weeks pass, her slight stumbles and lingering gazes are harder to ignore. what’s even harder is keeping your own crush under wraps.
after a tough practice one evening, you spot caitlin sitting alone in the corner of the dining hall, earbuds in and scrolling through her phone. you hesitate, feeling the now-familiar tug of nerves when you’re around her. taking a breath, you decide to go for it, approaching her table and setting down your tray across from hers. she looks up, and her eyes widen a bit, cheeks instantly turning a shade darker.
“oh—hey!” she says, pulling out one of her earbuds, her usual lively demeanor tempered by a touch of shyness you’re starting to recognize. “didn’t see you there.”
you grin, trying to ease her nerves—and, if you’re honest, yours too. “mind if i join? thought maybe we could use some company after a day like that.”
she nods quickly, her eyes not quite meeting yours as she fiddles with her drink. “of course, yeah. i mean, definitely. i was just… i don’t know… thinking.” she lets out a small laugh, and it’s endearing how disarmed she looks, her usual confidence tucked away.
you both start talking, at first just about practice and classes, but it quickly turns into easy conversation—laughing over stories from the court, sharing weird facts about each other. you notice how caitlin seems to relax, her usual wit and spark returning, though every now and then, you catch her looking at you, something hesitant yet hopeful in her eyes.
after a while, you finally lean forward, the words slipping out before you can stop them. “you know, caitlin… i think you’re pretty incredible. both on and off the court.”
she freezes for a second, her gaze meeting yours with a startled expression, as if she can’t quite believe what she’s hearing. “really?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper. “i… i mean, i didn’t think you’d—” she stops herself, glancing down, clearly trying to collect her thoughts. “i thought maybe i was… i don’t know. out of my league with you.”
the words hit you, and you can’t help but laugh, more in disbelief than anything else. “caitlin, have you seen yourself play? trust me, the whole ‘out-of-your-league’ thing definitely doesn’t apply.”
for the first time, caitlin meets your eyes with a genuine, unguarded smile, something in her expression shifting from hesitant to something a little bolder, a little more certain. “so… i guess i don’t need to be so nervous around you, then.”
you smile back, feeling a surge of warmth as you hold her gaze. “nope. in fact, i’d really like if we did this more often.”
she blushes but nods, her shyness now replaced by a subtle confidence that tells you she feels the same way. “i’d like that too,” she says softly, her voice steady now.
as you both finish your meal and start talking about plans for the weekend, there’s a new ease between you, the unspoken feelings finally acknowledged, bringing a quiet thrill to the rest of the evening. when you part ways, caitlin catches your eye one last time, and it’s clear that something’s shifted, the beginnings of a connection that feels like it’s just getting started.
…
over the next few weeks, the quiet thrill of knowing caitlin shares your feelings transforms your days. in practices, you’re constantly aware of each other’s presence, exchanging quick smiles or glances that linger a little too long. off the court, it’s become your unspoken routine to find each other for a meal after a long day. you’re both rookies, navigating the highs and lows of the season together, and with each hangout, the connection between you two grows.
one evening, after a tough away game, the team is in high spirits, celebrating the win at a nearby restaurant. everyone’s buzzing with energy, laughter filling the room as teammates swap stories and recount moments from the game. you’re sitting across from caitlin, and though you’re surrounded by people, it feels like you’re in your own little bubble. she’s laughing at something you said, her whole face lighting up, and you’re caught off guard by how much you want to reach out, to close the distance that feels both close and far.
when the team starts wrapping up, caitlin leans over, her voice soft, just for you. “feel like taking a walk? it’s so loud in here.”
you nod, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. “let’s go.”
outside, the air is crisp, and you both pull your jackets a little tighter as you stroll away from the noise of the restaurant. the night is quiet, the campus nearly deserted, and the only sounds are the faint crunch of leaves beneath your feet and the occasional brush of your shoulders.
“you know,” she begins, glancing up at you, “i thought college ball would be all about proving myself. but… it’s nice having you here. makes it feel a little less like i have to be the loudest one in the room.”
you’re touched by her honesty. “well, i’m glad i could help. but, caitlin, you know everyone’s already looking at you, right? you’ve got the kind of energy that draws people in. it’s not just about the basketball.”
she pauses, her cheeks turning pink even in the dim light. “guess it’s just different with you. feels… easy. and a little terrifying.”
there’s a quiet moment where you both stop walking, the space between you humming with words that neither of you quite knows how to say. your eyes meet, and without overthinking it, you reach for her hand, your fingers slipping between hers.
she looks down at your hands, her gaze lingering there for a second before meeting your eyes. a small smile breaks across her face, warm and genuine. “guess we’re both a little out of our league, huh?” she whispers, her voice soft.
you squeeze her hand gently. “yeah, but somehow, it feels like the best place to be.”
#caitlin clark x reader#wnba x reader#wnba imagine#wbb x reader#wbb imagine#iowa wbb#caitlin clark#caitlin clark imagine#indiana fever
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If you’re on your period
@yue-yolk
‘Okay what’s up with you? You’re not laughing at my jokes.’ jaegyeon na asked you with a hint on irritation in his voice. His hands gripping the steering wheel of his car even tighter. He disliked it when you didn’t respond to him with the most utter care in the world. It reminded him of how the other kings treat him. Perhaps your behavior is because he was talking about Initial N? ‘I’m just super exhausted that’s all.’ ‘Why?’ ‘I’m tired.’ ‘Why?’ ‘Because i just got out of work?’ ‘Oh….why?’ ‘Goddamit just leave me alone.’ ‘Well sorry for asking.’ He replied in a passive aggressive manner. The silence that followed obly gave away the irritation the both of you felt for each other. Why couldn’t he just take a hint? Is he really that oblivious? And it’s not like he’ll say sorry, he’s too prideful when it comes to apologizig. ‘I’m on my period. Sorry for lashing out.’ ‘Oohh…’ jaegyeon replied, the realization hit him so suddenly when you said that before it turned into guilt. He was being super pushy and the thought of you being uncomfortable because of the pain you were in didn’t even cross his mind. How could he call himself your boyfriend while he didn’t even know this? He felt so embarrassed and ashamed to not have recognized this sooner. ‘Im so sorry…do you want a hug?’ He asked you in slightly softer tone than usual, he knew the hug wouldn’t help a lot but he still wanted to at least give you a sense of comfort. ‘I think i would like that, but this time please at home. I dont want to get into an accident because of your reckless driving’ ‘like i’d ever let Initial N suffer like that. You think I’m crazy?’
‘Babe i’m on my period.’ ‘Okay.’ The silence after the not so lasting conversation made you a little irritated. Jonggun was outside on the balcony smoking a cigarette, the smell filling your nostrils made you a little more disgusted than usual which caught Jonggun’s attention. ‘What’s wrong?’ He asked rather matter of factly than concerning, his hand pushing the cigarette onto the ashtray to put it out. ‘I know you dislike it when i smoke, but you’re usually at least tolerant..’ the sound of the cigarette being put out filled your ears. Jonggun on the other hand looked at you, the gears in his head turning. ‘Don’t tell me you’re pregnant?’ Jonggun asked you rather bluntly with slightly wider eyes. ‘I just told you i’m on my period you idiot.’ ‘Oh right…i wasn’t listening.’ ‘I figured.’ Jonggun let go of the cigarette which was now laying in the ashtray and took a seat on the sofa on the balcony, the warm wind blowing into his face. He invited you to join him which you declined. Your rejection of his offer made him a little confused. He didn’t say anything but from his eyes you knew he was waiting for an explanation. ‘I need you to go to the store and buy me tampons. And chips. And chocolate, but not the Milka one. The other one. The one i always eat.’ Jonggun did in fact not know what brand you always eat. But he’ll figure it out….he hopes. ‘Why don’t you go?’ ‘Because i don’t want to.’ ‘…’ ‘please.’ Your please sounded more demanding than a question to him, but given the circumstances and because you’re his girlfriend he decided to give into your demands. ‘..fine.’
‘Well hello sugar, coming to see me while i’m at work?’ ‘No i’m hurt.’ ‘What happend? You fell? I mean i probably blinded you with my glorious presence ahaha.’ ‘I’m on my period babe’ the information made Goo stiffen a little, he never really knew how to engage in something like this since you’re his first girlfriend and not a one night stand. His mind couldn’t comprehend the situation, before all this you were usually on the pill for birth control, so how could this happen? ‘How? I thought your period went extinct after you took the pill?’ The question made you burst out laughing, this grown ass man couldn’t even know one thing about how periods work? ‘First of all, it doesn’t go ‘extinct’ its not some species. Second of all, when you go off the birth control you start having a rather more complicated flow.’ ‘So now you’re bleeding?’ ‘Yea.’ ‘And you’re not going to die of losing blood?’ ‘I hope not.’ ‘Okay…’ Good scratches his head, he felt a little stupid for not knowing this. Perhaps it’s because he never bothered to actually learn about the female anatomy. His head was hurting with so much information and he wanted to actually ask some questions. ‘Y/n…’ ‘yeah?’ ‘Does this mean we can’t do it anymore?’ ‘Unless you want to have your shrimp painted red then no.’ ‘Forbidden salsa’ ‘please don’t say things like that again.’ Goo found himself thinking about a lot of things now that he knew this. Did Jonggun know this? Maybe he’s now smarter than Jonggun. Perhaps he can use this against him in battle. ‘So, since you’re now on your period. Does this mean that you say ‘period.’ After every sentence?’ ‘…’
#lookism x reader#jaegyeon na#jaegyeon na x reader#lookism jagyeon na#lookism gun#lookism gun park#lookism jonggun#jonggun park x reader#gun park x reader#lookism gun x reader#park jonggun#jonggun#jonggun x reader#lookism goo#lookism joongoo#kim joongoo#goo kim x reader#lookism#lookism webtoon#lookism fanfic#lookism manhwa#joongoo kim x reader#lookism goo x reader
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O2 LOVE COUNTDOWN — No.1 Party Anthem
“EEEE WE’RE FINALLY HERE!” yoimiya squeals in excitement. seeing the gorgeous lights, everyone’s cheerful face. this was going to be a good night. not even your ex could ruin it.
“I KNOW RIGHT, i’ve been dying for a break from uni bro.” lumine states
“don’t even talk about uni here. this is a stress free zone!!” you state with a sad smile.
“yea yea whatever guys! let’s just enjoy this break for a while. no negative energy!!” hu tao demands, and ayaka nodding in agreement
“albedo your awfully quiet. c’mon enjoy yourself! it’s one of the very few time your away from your weird experiments.” ayaka tells him.
“i’ll try.”
“OH MY GODDD ITS STARTING GUYS!” hu tao exclaims.
the members entering on the stage, each member shone in the spotlight. first, venti, then aether, xiao, kazuha, heizou and lastly scaramouche. the concert begins. it starts off as any other concert.
the band performing their current album. voices singing beautifully. everything’s good! no resentment, sadness, or emotions alike when you see scaramouche.
just you and your friends enjoying yourselves.
“C’MON Y/N LOOK MORE ALIVE! SCREAM THE LYIRICS WITH ME!!” hu tao screams at you. you can barely hear her, but you can still make out some words.
“WE DON’T KNOW THE LYRICS THO?”
“DOESN’T MATTER!!”
“IF YOU SAY SO!”
screaming nonsense with hu tao, genuine smiles between the whole friend group. hell even albedo is smiling, even if it’s barely noticeable.
the band finish their album’s discography. then venti tells in to the mic for the audience, “this is going to be a special concert! our amazing guitarist, scaramouche will be singing a solo today! hope you guys enjoy this, he spent a lot of time and thought into this song.”
the crowd erupting in to cheers, chanting his name, and other members retreating to the back so he could be in the spotlight.
it’s an amazing song honestly, not even you could hate on it. until he looks directly at you while singing a lyric.
“the look of love, the rush of blood. the she’s with me’s, the gallic shrug”
was he hinting at something? you’ve always admired him, anyone who looked in you guys’s direction could see the love and admiration in your eyes.
you wondered during the relationship if it was ever one sided. he never cared for you in public or private. always pushing you away, no matter what you couldn’t get close enough to him. to his feelings.
there’s no use of if’s now, what’s the point of wondering about the past when you’ve got friends who’d be there for you, open about their feelings, treat you like someone, they’re just everything you need.
lumine’s looking at you concerningly, giving you the “you okay? you need some time alone?” look. shaking your head no, with a content smile on your face.
scaramouche is still looking at you. he has been since the beginning since his solo, the concert, in highschool, all the time. in his eyes you were everything. you were too good to be true. something made up from his imagination.
someone who’d been with him, okay with his flaws, didn’t change him and just accepted him as who he is a whole.
making eye contact with him after years. you can say it’s cheesy like a stupid romcom. they say eyes don’t lie, you might just believe that now. that look in his eyes, it was just like yours in highschool, full of love.
thinking to yourself “maybe i do need some time alone. how ironic, literally said you wouldn’t let a random ex ruin this night for you.”
tapping lumine on her shoulder, her turning around, “hey lumine im gonna go take a breath of fresh air real quick.”
“okay y/n, take all the time you need, and stay safe.”
giving her a smile you stepped out for a bit of fresh air. you didn’t even realize you couldn’t breathe when he was looking at you. it was suffocating. he still has that same hold on you even years later.
will you ever escape scaramocuhe, or you should say kunikuzushi. maybe one day you will. who knows, only time will tell.
seeing you at the concert wasn’t what scaramouche was expecting. and he didn’t realize how much he’s misses you until now.
missing your smile, your hugs, your stupid conversations, your care. everything about you. how should he feel right now? sad, happy, longing? who knows. all he knows is that he misses you dearly.
seeing you happy with your friends, he can’t deny he’s glad. you aren’t crying and grieving over someone like him. your cheery self made him feel better. you gave his monochrome world color.
hearing venti’s announcement of his time of singing his solo, he was scared. he wasn’t planning to be singing something he made in thought of you. and you watching him too, he was a little more than nervous.
“the look of love, the rush of blood. the she’s with me’s, the gallic shurg”
the lyrics were about you and your actions.
“the look of love”, you’re admiration for him. always there for him, caring for him. you’re love never faltering even after he’d push you away constantly.
“the rush of blood”, you’re gorgeous face decorated with a pink hue when he’s around and you’re energy. you were always full of life, giving him a reason to do anything. and you’re blushing and giggly face every time you guys made eye contact.
“the she’s with me’s”, picking him over anyone. anyone could’ve been a better company then him. he was always quiet, rude and arrogant, so why? why did you pick his presence over any one else’s? “no, sorry, i’m busy with my boyfriend right now.” those word made him feel good. you’d still pick him over anything.
“the gallic shrug”, you’d always say actions speak louder than words, and you ment it. sometimes when you couldn’t find the right words something you’d show it through actions. he was giving you the silent treatment one day but, you still put some effort in to talking to him. even if those methods failed, you’d give him his usual lunch you made, the texts of good morning, goodnight, i love you, take care, etc.
he still remembers you, your habits, your voice, just you in general.
seeing you step away from the concert after you made eye contact with each other, he felt a ting of sadness. did you still resent him for that argument? he didn’t have time to think on it too much i mean how could? he’s performing in front of thousands of people.
he makes a mental note to try to find you after this. if he can’t he’ll text you. even if he’s blocked he’ll find a way.
SYNOPSIS you and scaramouche or kunikuzushi from 6REEZE dated in highschool but went your own ways after an argument. So when one of the members sister is apart of your friend group invites you to their concert without knowing that one of them is your ex. You’re still head over heels for him but, does he still have feelings for you?
AUTHOR'S NOTES — omg back to back?!!??! unheard of from minnie yall. ANDDDD its not extremely short and rushed (did this in the morning before class LOL) but anyways as always wrote this extremely late!!! disregard spelling/grammar errors or sloppiness. love u all
TAGLIST —@featuredtofu @brain-r0tt @saeskiss @m9rtality @sl-vega @feiherp @jayzioxx @lloovvv
prev | masterlist | next
#✉️ minnie’s writings .ᐟ#LOVE COUNTDOWN ♡#genshin smau#genshin x reader#scaramouche smau#scaramouche x reader#scaramouche x y/n#scaramouche x you#scara smau#scara x reader#scara x y/n#scara x you
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805 actually had a lot of little buddie and bt bones morsels to chew on. Everyone’s already talked about most of the big ones. Other little ones that I think I’ve found to nosh on:
William James McCurdy aka Billy Boils - William is a derived from the Germanic name Willehelm composed of two parts meaning ‘will’ or ‘desire’ and ‘helmet’ or ‘protection’ respectively. James traces back to the Hebrew name Jacob meaning ‘supplanter’.
Temecula, where Buck says WJM was executed, is derived from a Payómkawichum word meaning ‘the place of the sun’, ‘the sun that shines through the mist’ or ‘where the sun breaks through the mist’.
Eddie’s ring pop worn conspicuously on his thumb in the hospital waiting room scene raised my eyebrow. Turns out, according to Wikipedia a thumb ring was often used as a ward against curses and evil spirits in the ancient world. And in ancient Greece it was a status symbol to show a person’s importance.
Eddie’s really the only one shown eating candy in the episode. Buck has the candy bowl on Billy’s lap at the end of the haunted house as a reward to the kids for facing their fears. Then at the end of the ep we see Eddie with a candy bowl on his lap while seated directly across from Buck and Tommy in the hospital waiting room.
I know it’s not a set of one to one connections but I think Billy’s full name and story - in combo with the candy and thumb ring - are Buddie relevant. In Billy’s heyday he had guns to sling, banks to rob, and a posse. Then he was bound/hogtied, betrayed, and abandoned fueling the curse. 
The Buddie symbolism could be about them guarding their hearts/not admitting their feelings for each other but still working together everyday and staying best friends (William = ‘desire protection’). Then Buck realized he’s bisexual and Eddie was suddenly supplanted by Tommy (James = supplanter). That tied Eddie’s hands and Buck’s too (hogtied) because he was officially in a relationship. Buck and Eddie both seemed to be bound by that circumstance and holding things back even before bt was official, basically starting in 705 when Buck came out to Eddie and admitted he had feelings for Tommy.
Buck of course didn’t betray Eddie in any literal sense like the way Billy’s posse betrayed him but Eddie may still feel betrayed because now he doesn’t have Buck in a way and Chris is barely talking to him. The two people who Eddie called “his kind of therapy” in 309 have left him alone in key ways. On the Buck front, Eddie is still his bestie and Tommy is…around…but i know Buck misses Chris too. Plus he’s not clicking with Tommy. Tommy misses pretty much every one of Buck’s actual serious bids for connection so on some level I think he’s feeling a little lost too, if not lonely per se.
The cure became clear when Buck connected with the 118 through group chat. With Tommy notably on the fringes of it all. Buck figured out that the key to lifting the curse was his people - his closest relationships and connections.
Buck’s struggle to connect with Tommy was highlighted in 805 and his rock solid connection with Eddie was demonstrated too. Temecula means the sun shining through the mist. In this context, it’s what’s unclear being illuminated and made clear. Buck has seen the curse for what it is (at least to some degree) and he’s started to try to cure it. The light of understanding is starting to shine through but he’s not there yet. The ep ends with him still covered in boils and accompanied by Tommy. Plus, Eddie still hasn’t even acknowledged that the ‘curse’ is real and needs to be dealt with. Classic Repressed King Eddie behavior.
But it’s far from over, because there’s still construction on Sunset! Temecula. The fact that the cemetery in 615 and 805 looks like it’s Hollywood Forever Cemetery located on Santa Monican Blvd in LA which ends at Sunset Blvd in the east, the direction of beginnings. (I know it may be a farfetched association but let me have this one lol also don’t stone me bc I know nothing about LA that the internet didn’t tell me in a 5 min search.)
This is somewhat oddly where Eddie’s candy bowl and thumb ring come in. He’s the sweet reward when Buck finally fully faces his fears. He’s Buck’s protection against future ‘curses’. (At the risk of working myself into a frenzy…) He’s the person who sees Buck but who Buck never seems to see seeing him!! Hence all of Eddie’s stolen glances in this ep. He’s the very important bee in the narrative’s frayed bonnet!!
Many of these same issues apply to Eddie about Buck too but the Billy bit was more focused on Buck. I think Eddie’s symbolism when the show finally gets around to letting him make actual progress will be different. I don’t freakin know what it is about Eddie’s vibes but I really do think he knows that he feels **something** for Buck in addition to their grade A bestieism. I’ve believed that since the s4 shooting and 805 made me believe it even more.
Guess we gotta wait and see if and how it’ll all come together.
Anyway if you made it to the end of this post that 100% got away from me, treat yourself to a ring pop. Do it for King Eddie!
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Don't Be a Stranger — Daisuke x gn! reader
summery: parties were the last thing you wanted to attended, especially when your friend ditches you instantly. She makes it up to you by finding you a cute date.
tw: none that I can think of
a/n: haha, so I said I was unmotivated, and then thought of this. I actually meant uninspired. Unfortunately, I am uninspired once more 😔
wc: 1.4k
Master List
It was so loud that the entire room felt like it was vibrating around you. The only lights were dark blue and red leds that made it hard to see much of anything. People were dancing…no, more just grinding and jumping against each other. You felt completely out of place, leaning against a wall and clutching your soda like your life depends on it. You were scrunched in, avoiding the drunken young adults that stumbled past.
Why were you at a party that you didn’t even wanna be at? Well, your friend dragged you, begging you to come with so she wasn’t alone. One second she was by your side grabbing your sleeve, the next she was hanging off the arm of some pretty girl giggling and batting her eyelashes. You didn’t mind that she was flirting with someone, all power to her, but that meant you were left alone in a setting you had no idea how to traverse. Glancing at your phone for the hundredth time that night, you felt your soul leave your body. No text from your friend, and you had no idea how long this party was gonna last. Sure, you could just leave, but then you’d feel like an asshole if your friend texted you asking for help or to bring her home. So, like the loyal friend you were, you continued to awkwardly stand there, trying to be invisible and sip your drink.
“This is my friend,” You heard your friend say your name. Looking up you saw her, the woman she was flirting with, and a guy approaching you. “They may be a little awkward but they’re the nicest person ever, I swear. Not to mention single.” You watched on, embarrassed at your friend, Ingrid’s introduction of you as she winked at the guy who chuckled awkwardly.
“Uh, hello,” You said, but you realized you hadn’t spoken loud enough, so you repeated yourself in a louder tone.
“Hey,” The pretty lady waved, a warm smile on her face. “I’m Alaina.”
“Daisuke,” The guy nodded. You nodded back, an awkward smile lining your lips. You were never good at talking to others, not to mention at a party of all places. So, to try and ignore the lull in the conversation you took another sip of your drink, watching as Ingrid and Alaina started talking to each other animatedly, leaving you and Daisuke to stand awkwardly.
“This doesn’t seem to be your vibe,” Daisuke was the first to break the silence between you (not that it was very quiet with the music making your teeth rattle).
Blinking up at him, you tilted your head, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Raising his hands defensively, he stammered, “I-it's not a bad thing! I just mean you seem like you’d rather be anywhere but here right now.”
“You’re not wrong,” You agreed, nodding your head. “I’m only here ‘cus of Ingrid.” Daisuke nodded, the red and blue lighting shining nicely across his features. Wait, what the hell were you thinking? No, it's fine, its normal to find someone attractive.
“Wanna go outside?” He asked, thumb pointing to the front door.
“Lead the way.”
As the two of you inched your way towards the door, you didn’t miss the sly grin Ingrid sent your way. You swiftly faced Daisuke’s back instead, trying not to get lost in the sweaty bodies that constantly bumped into you. It got so bad, you ended up grabbing the back of his shirt. As the two of you exited the house the cool air soothed you, letting out a sigh of relief, you let go of Daisuke’s shirt, muscles slowly relaxing. You hadn’t realized how tense you were.
“You really don’t like parties, huh?” Daisuke chuckled, voice softer now that the music had dulled.
“Not really,” You chuckled back, scratching the back of your neck. Thankfully, the front yard didn’t have many people, and the porch held a porch swing, which the two of you sat on.
“So, you like these things?” You asked, trying your hardest to keep the conversation going. You normally don't put this much effort when talking to a stranger, but Daisuke seemed nice, and the fact that he was pretty helped. Ingrid really knew your type.
Daisuke shrugged, “Yeah, it's fun meeting new people and letting loose.”
Then the cursed silence fell over you two, but this time it wasn’t as awkward. You stared up at the sky, watching the stars twinkle and the moon shine…well as best as you could with the light pollution, but it was still there. You both swayed gently on the swing, the party music thumping softly behind you. This was a lot better than what you were doing before.
Just as you were about to fully space out, Daisuke stole your attention once more, “So, what do you usually like to do?”
Looking back at the brunette, you ignored the way your insides twisted at the fact he was already looking at you, answering, “Going to a cafe or the library. Maybe a walk in the park if I’m feeling particularly motivated.” “Yeah, I can see that,” He nodded, a boyish grin on his lips. “Lemme guess, you go to college?”
Gaping like a fish out of water, you didn’t like how easily he was reading you, “What gives you that impression?”
“You’re too smart to be partying,” He shrugged, leaning back.
“That’s a stereotype,” You pouted. “Ingrid is a perfect example. We go to college together and she’s a total partier.”
“Okay, fair point,” Daisuke conceded. “If you hate parties so much why did you let her drag you here?”
“Didn’t want her going alone,” You shrugged. “I don’t trust people at these things.”
“You shouldn't,” Daisuke agreed with a sigh. “As much as I love a good party, even I know not everyone has the best of intentions.”
“Is Alaina your friend?” You questioned wanting to get a bit more info on the mysterious girl that had caught your friend's attention.
“Kinda,” He shook his hand in a so-so motion. “I see her at a lot of these parties. Seems like a good chick.” You nodded, messing with the hem of your shirt.
“Soooo,” He drew the word out, trying to act nonchalant but you could tell he seemed nervous. “What would you say to going out sometime. We could go to a cafe…or the library if that's more your speed. Or we could head to a park for a walk, I’m not picky.”
Was…was he offering what you thought he was? You felt your stomach tie up in knots, face warming and brain frying. You were not prepared for this. A cute guy was interested in you? Maybe you were getting ahead of yourself, after all, it wasn’t every day a stranger wanted to hang out with you.
“That…that sounds nice,” You muttered, your confidence completely shattered. Your fidgeting grew worse as you started messing with the collar of your shirt.
“Cool, cool,” Daisuke nodded. Outside, he looked nonchalant (with a mix of nerves), on the inside he was having a full blown meltdown. You, your awkwardness endearing and your kindness charming. You, whose banter with him flowed naturally, opened up to him almost immediately. You didn’t seem too awkward as long as you had a bit of a push, and luckily for him he was extroverted enough to get you out of your shell. “C-could I get your number, or socials or something so we can plan it out?” He stuttered, cheeks warming, eyes glancing away.
“Oh, yeah,” You nodded, taking out your phone. Opening a new contact, you handed him your phone, letting him punch his number in before sending a quick text stating your name. “Did it go through?” You asked, looking over to him as he took out his phone.
“Yeah,” He nodded, biting his lip as his grin widened. Sure, he’s met lots of attractive people, having a few drunk makeouts under his belt, but this felt different. A lot different. You both were sober…well he was a bit tipsy, but just enough to give him a little boost, but that meant that this was more real than what he’s used to. Not to mention he found you cute, and your friend, Ingrid, seemed to be right, you were really nice (so far). He hadn’t had many crushes, never having had a serious relationship, but imagining going on a date with you to a cute cafe or a walk in the park, wasn’t that just the most romantic thing ever? At least Daisuke thought so.
“So…it's a date?” He asked, watching you with eager eyes. Shrinking into yourself, you felt yourself fluster, avoiding his eyes like the plague. “Yeah,” You nodded shyly. “It's a date.”
#mouthwashing x reader#daisuke mouthwashing x reader#mouthwashing daisuke x reader#mouthwashing#daisuke mouthwashing#mouthwashing daisuke#x reader
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Send you Flowers [j.g.]{kd20}
Infidelity / Cunnilingus
Cw: infidelity, cheating, Javi is married, implied age gap, mutual pining, sexual tension, Javi the pussy eating king, power imbalance (she’s his assistant/manager), kissing, title and story both reference face/off not sorry,
Javi was married, and that didn’t stop you as quickly or as assuredly as it should’ve. He flirted with you, and you flirted back. He was your boss and a sick part of your brain wanted to know how far you could push him before he fired you or gave in. There was honesty in your relationship, the connection never was severed but nursed, treated like an integral part of your job.
Make Javi laugh, make Javi show up on time, make Javi drool. You excelled.
At first you felt the heat in your body and stamped it out, afraid that you’d develop some schoolgirl crush on the man. When the conversations of your life, of your confidence, of your body grew to have a haze of admiration, and when you couldn’t tell if he was just flattering you for his own selfish gain, or because he actually believed you were the most beautiful women he’d ever seen, regardless you broke.
It was quick and slow at the same time. You were in a hallway talking about the days agenda, you’d be by each other's side, press releases and interviews stretching well into the night hours. You could still smell his morning shower, his lose curls falling onto his forehead as he leaned against the doorframe with his hip, arms crossed as he kept your eyes engaged with his listening intently. “I’ve picked out a few outfits for you to try for the meeting with paramount.”
His eyes knit together, as he looked down at his half buttoned tropical shirt and his tiny European shorts you still hadn’t gotten used to seeing him in, “Why not this? It’s a zoom meeting.”
You don’t hide the way you let your gaze wonder, “It’s nice Javi, if they had already hired you, but for a pitch I think you should have something a little more sophisticated on.”
He tilts his head in consideration, “You think this is too casual? This is a 1,000 euro shirt.” He looks you up and down, “I think those clothes work for you.” he leans in ever so slightly as if whispering the next word into your ear, “Too well even.” He smirks, chewing on his lip “But I am a simple man to work with, ask nicely.”
You bite your own lip in mock frustration, “Please Javi, they should be on your bed.” You point past him, seeing the grey blazer folded neatly untouched at the foot of his bed. His head falls in an exaggerated sigh, before traipsing back into the room with you hot on his heels.
He holds up the fabric and for a moment of horror you think he’s going to put it over the loud fabric he’s already wearing, he tosses it back to the bed and begins to undue the buttons on his shirt.
Seamlessly you busy yourself with the itinerary on your phone, ignoring his undressed figure to the best of your abilities, and thinking about how he said he liked when you dressed professionally for a day of interviews.
He puts the blazer on alone, and doesn’t bother with more than two buttons, the clean plain of his chest is tantalizing and looks effortless and sharp at the same time.
“Have you seen Face/off?” Javi gets your attention quickly, you’ve seen it of course, multiple times, even more than once with Javi on planes.
“You know I have.” You smile fondly at the memories of working with Javi on his first film, and the ‘required’ viewing of his favorite Cage films.
Javi muses, “We’ve seen many good movies together.” He steps closer and your breath catches in your throat. “We’ve done many great things together.” You nod quietly, enraptured by the husky seriousness, “What’s one more?”
You let your brows pinch together, not wanting to commit fully to anything, before the air is stolen from your lungs in a deep sensual kiss. He licks into your mouth as if he’s been craving your taste for years. You can’t get enough of him, your phone falls onto the bed on top of his shirt, and you press up against him. When he touches you it’s like all those conversations have been replaying in his head on loop. He knows you like your hair pulled, he knows your neck is sensitive, he knows you like it when a man is rough with you.
If those conversations felt like a sin then, they sure as hell are feeling like heaven now. He pulls your head to the side with a fist knotting against your scalp, and scrapes his teeth down the side of your neck. The movement causes you to shudder, taking a deep breath as your heart hammer away in your chest. You want him, lord have mercy you want him, the hang up on your professional relationship has been all but gone for the longest time. You’ve been waiting for him, the married man to make the final move. He’s done with waiting.
He takes the collar of your blouse in his free hand tearing it from your body in a cacophony of buttons clanging onto the floor of his room. He grunts, letting the skin of your chest warm his hands as he strokes over the top of your bra, teasing the flesh of your nipples to a peak without even touching them.
He can mark you, he knows you want him to, sinking his teeth into the flesh of your breast he pins your body to his. The swell of his cock so strikingly obvious in his tiny shorts. You reach for him, losing your logical brain with each flick of his tongue against the bruises he leaves on your chest.
He knows so much about you, and in return in the same immoral way, you know how much he likes to eat pussy. It’s no surprise when you’re on your back, his hands running over the pantyhose, digging his nails into the thin fabric and tearing small holes into it. You protest but he shushes you. Kissing your ankle, he grips your leg bending it to his will, and tucking himself between your legs. “I bet I could make you cum just like this baby, with your clothes still on.” You groan, the thought as pleasant as it seems was also likely tangible, you were feeling like a hot coil had settled into your belly and that you were ready to burst at any given moment. “We don’t have time Javi.” You speak merely in interest of wanting to get done before you were interrupted one way or another.
“I know baby.” He kisses the tops of your thighs, you can feel the plush skin of his lips through the tears. “Next time.” He tears a hole through one leg, immediately kissing and laving at the supple skin with his tongue before tearing the other leg free and throwing the ruin pile of pantyhose over his shoulder.
He continues to press your legs open, strong hands gripping onto your thighs hard enough to leave bruises. He kisses over your sex, letting the scrap of underwear dampen the feeling until he can feel you tilt and cant your hips against his face. Begging silently to experience everything he’s put in your mind over years of sexual tension and stories under the guise of a casual friendship. Your underwear is off the second you ask, his mouth is on you as hungry as the first kiss.
Licking flat stripes up your center, dipping into your sex and gathering the sweet taste of your slick on his tongue before letting it dribble over the tight swollen bud of your clit. He circles it with his lips, sucking and flicking with his tongue until your hand finds its way into his hair and not letting up until you beg for him to stop, spent and grateful.
#javi g x reader#javi gutierrez#the unbearable weight of massive talent#pedro pascal character fic#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal fanfic#pedro pascal smut#kinktober 2024#kinktober
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Autumn had arrived, bringing with it a softer touch than usual. The heavy rains had finally abated, replaced by the more typical, gentle drizzle that seemed to hover persistently in the air. Edwin and Wilhelmina were seated together in the dining room, bathed in the warm glow of the late afternoon sun as it filtered through the window, casting long shadows across the worn wooden floor.
Wilhelmina had slowly but steadily found her way back to the rhythm of daily life. Although the sadness remained, an unwelcome companion that lingered in the quiet moments, it no longer consumed her as it once had. She had taken small, cautious steps back into her routine, each day reclaiming a little more of the woman she had once been.
Edwin had watched her progress with a mixture of relief and lingering worry, aware that grief was not something that could simply be banished but had to be lived with, managed, day by day.
As for Edwin, his days were filled with the demands of the farm and the ever-present concern over their future. The loss of George weighed heavily on him, but the farm required his attention, and that need had allowed him to push the grief aside, at least during the daylight hours. The evenings, however, were harder. When the work was done, and the house quieted down, his thoughts inevitably returned to the son they had lost, and the ache in his heart would return.
This evening, their conversation turned, as it often did these days, to the state of the farm. Edwin’s brow was furrowed in concern as he spoke “The crops...they’re not going to recover, Wilhelmina. The rain was too much for them. We’re looking at a poor harvest, and that’s if we’re lucky. The newspaper said it’s not just here, there’s talk of pests spreading across the country, ruining what little the rain didn’t destroy.”
He sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair. “I wish we had a greenhouse” he admitted, his voice carrying a note of wistful longing “It would give us a fighting chance, a way to protect the crops from the worst of the weather. But with how expensive it is to build one, it’s just a dream, really” He sighed again, the weight of their situation pressing down on him.
Wilhelmina watched him, a soft smile tugging at her lips, though it was tinged with sadness. She had grown used to the way his shoulders seemed to carry the burden of the world lately. “We’ve still got your wages from the Abernathys” she offered, trying to inject a note of hope into the conversation. It was a small thing, but it was something.
Edwin shook his head, his expression one of resignation. “Money’s no good if there’s no food to buy” he said, his voice laced with frustration. “We’ve been getting by with what we could salvage from the fields, but it’s not enough. And winter’s coming. What will we do then, Wilhelmina? If the other farms are struggling like we are, there’ll be shortages. Prices will go up, and even with the money, there might not be enough to go around.”
Wilhelmina rested her chin on her hand, her eyes distant as she considered his words. “We’ll do what we must, Edwin” she said quietly, trying to reassure him “If it comes to it, we’ll have to make sacrifices. Maybe we’ll need to let go of some of the livestock, or cut back even more on what we use. We’ve faced hard times before, and we got through them. We’ll find a way, somehow.”
Edwin looked at her, searching her face for the strength he knew was there, the strength he had relied on for so many years. “It’s just… I worry, Wilhelmina. About the children, about you. We’ve lost so much already. I don’t know if I can bear to lose anything more.”
For a while, they sat in silence, the weight of the coming winter hanging over them, but also the quiet resolve that they would face it together. The sunlight outside began to fade, giving way to the cool, dusky blue of early evening. Wilhelmina eventually rose to prepare supper, leaving Edwin alone with his thoughts. As he watched her move about the kitchen, the familiar sounds and smells of their home filling the space, he felt a small flicker of hope. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to hold onto, at least for now.
#sims 4#sims 4 decades challenge#ts4#sims 4 legacy#ts4 decades challenge#ts4 historical#ts4 legacy#the langley legacy#1840s#wilhelmina langley#edwin langley
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Work stuff
#honestly my only big gripe about working here is One of the managers#there’s one that’s chill she chats with us and only tells us to get to work if we’re fully doing absolutely nothing#for too long#but the main manager sucks he wants you working non stop#don’t even LOOK at each other let alone talk#ok he hasn’t told anyone off for looking at each other but you get it you need to be doing something at all times#like. wipe down the counter that’s already been wiped down ten times today#he needs to chill#takes his job too serious#bro works at a movie theater#those creepy dark pictures are from when the power went out#that was fun#work#movie theater
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Heated Waters
synopsis: being married is hard, being married without seeing each other is even harder.
⚝ content: Hiromi Higuruma x F! Reader, nsfw, bathtub sex, fingering, Hiromi neglects his wife, but boy does he make up for it
⚝ wc: 1.9k
“Yeah we do it pretty much every day.”
Satoru said, taking a leisurely sip of his water. His pale face alight with mischief, a shit-eating grin across his lips. His three coworkers stared at him in (jealousy) disbelief.
Suguru was the first to break the silence, wanting to save face “Everyday is a bit much, isn’t it, Satoru?”
Satoru chuckled, his blue eyes glinting with amusement as he watched his friend squirm. "What about you guys? How often do our married friends get it in?" His gaze flickered to Nanami, who cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses, his eyes fixed on the steam rising from his coffee cup.
“Twice a week, I suppose…”
Satoru's smile widened, clearly entertained by the responses he was drawing out. He then turned his attention to the oldest among them, Hiromi Higuruma, who was carefully straightening his tie, a subtle attempt to avoid eye contact.
“What about you, Higuruma?”
“Your wife, (Y/N) is a little younger than you, right? C’mon Higuruma-San…She a total freak?” Satoru teased.
Hiromi's jaw tightened, a flicker of irritation crossing his features as his grip on his coffee cup tightened. He took a slow, measured breath, his voice strained but controlled when he finally spoke.
“Please don’t talk about my wife like that.”
But Satoru, ever the instigator, didn’t back down. “It’s just us guys riiggght? And I can’t lie Higuruma, you’re one lucky guy. (Y/N) is a catch.”
Nanami nodded in agreement, as did Suguru, though both seemed to sense the discomfort growing in Hiromi. The older man could only sigh, his shoulders sagging under the weight of the conversation.
It was true—you were everything he could have ever wanted in a partner. Beautiful, intelligent, kind-hearted—his perfect match. If heaven existed, Hiromi was certain you’d be the only one worthy of it.
But long nights in the office, and early mornings preparing for court would take a toll on any relationship. The truth was… Hiromi hadn’t touched you in over a month. By the time he came home—you were fast asleep, and weekends were spent running the mountain of errands you couldn’t get to during the week. You loved each other of course, but it was hard. A month without feeling the warmth of your husband's hands all over your skin was starting to weigh heavily on both of you.
“You don’t have to answer Higuruma-san..” Nanami chimed in, sensing his elder colleague’s discomfort.
“Over a month.” Hiromi exhaled, the truth slipping out before he could stop it.
The room fell silent, the weight of his words sinking in.
“WHAT?” Gojo audibly gasps. “Your wife looks like THAT and you haven’t f—”
Suguru swiftly cut him off with a well-placed elbow to the chest. “Satoru… leave Higuruma alone.” The long-haired male warns. “Still, that is surprising.”
“I know I know..” Higuruma pinches his bridge. He wanted nothing more than to have his wife under him… on top of him. But the endless stream of work kept him trapped in a cycle of exhaustion. “I’ve been so busy I can’t even remember the last time I actually spoke to her properly.”
Suguru offered an apologetic smile. “Sounds like you need a break.”
“Sounds like you need some puss—” Nanami quickly elbowed Satoru in the chest before he could finish his sentence.
Hiromi shook his head, letting out a dry chuckle as he ran a hand through his dark locks, clearly frustrated with himself. “I appreciate your concern, guys, but I don’t see how I can take a break right now. I have so much work to do, and I’m the only one who knows how to handle all of it.”
“Higuruma-San. Satoru will take care of the paperwork for you.” Nanami suggested with a deadpan expression.
“HUH?” Satoru blurted out, clearly caught off guard by the sudden assignment.
“Yeah,” Nanami continued, ignoring Satoru’s protest. “It’s not like he actually does any work around here anyway.”
Suguru smirked, nodding in agreement. “That’s true. You might as well make yourself useful, Satoru.”
Before Hiromi could protest, the trio moved in unison—Suguru grabbing Hiromi’s briefcase, Nanami steering him toward the door, and Satoru sighing dramatically as he resigned himself to the task.
“Are… are you boys sure about this? I don’t want to burden you–”
“Nonsense! Go home and take care of your wife!”
Hiromi placed his briefcase by the door, his tie feeling suddenly too tight around his neck. He loosened it with a sigh, running a hand through his hair as he glanced around. The familiar scent of home greeted him. It was comforting yet bittersweet, a reminder of all the moments he had missed. The living room was tidy, the soft hum of the dishwasher running in the kitchen. You had clearly been busy, taking care of the house as you always did, even when he wasn’t around.
“Honey?” Hiromi calls out to you, his voice echoing slightly in the stillness.
Frowning, he shrugged off his jacket and draped it over the back of a chair before making his way down the hall. As he approached the bathroom, he noticed a faint light seeping out from under the door, accompanied by the sound of water gently lapping against the tub.
He hesitated for a moment, then slowly opened the door.
The sight that greeted him made his breath catch in his throat. There you were, reclining in the bathtub, your eyes closed, head resting on the edge as steam rose around you. The soft glow of candles illuminated the room, casting a warm, serene light over your features.
You looked so peaceful, so beautiful—that it almost hurt to look at you. The tension in his shoulders eased slightly as he took in the sight, but the guilt and longing only deepened. How long had it been since he’d taken the time to appreciate you like this? Since he’d been able to just… be with you?
You opened your eyes, gaze meeting your husband as he leaned against the door frame.
“Hiromi?” you murmured, your voice soft, almost questioning, as if unsure whether he was really there or just a figment of your imagination.
“Hey Honey…” his voice equally soft, as he took a tentative step closer. The warmth of the room seemed to wrap around him, melting away some of the day’s stress.
“You’re home early.” You muse, looking at him as you rested your arms on the tub. He doesn’t respond, just walks towards you with purposeful steps.
Hiromi stares down at you with half-lidded eyes.“The guys decided I need a break.” He paused, his breath hitching slightly as he continued, “Can I join you?” A playful smirk tugged at the corner of your lips.
“Only if you take off your clothes this time.”
A dry chuckle escaped his lips as he unbuttons his dress shirt, letting each article of clothing fall to the tile floor. As he finally sheds his boxers before settling behind you. You exhaled softly, the tension you’d been holding onto for weeks dissipating as you sank into your husband’s embrace.
Hiromi didn’t waste a moment, his lips finding the sensitive skin of your neck, placing lazy, lingering kisses along the curve where your shoulder met your throat. His breath was warm against your skin, his kisses slow and unhurried, as if savoring every second, every inch of you.
His hands weren’t idle either, tracing gentle patterns along your stomach, moving upwards to cup your breasts with a tenderness that made your breath hitch. He nipped lightly at your earlobe, his voice a husky murmur, “I’ve missed you… more than you know.”
“Missed you too ‘Romi..” Your voice trembling as the almost foreign heat began to pool in your core.
Deft fingers teased your nipples, rolling and pinching—eliciting a soft moan from your lips as your body arched into his touch. Your hand reached back, tangling in his dark locks, pulling him closer as his lips traveled down to your shoulder, his other hand snaking under the water to your aching cunt.
“ahhhh… s-shitt..” You cry out as Hiromi’s fingers slowly circle your swollen bud. His touch light, teasing.
“Thirty-two days… I’m so sorry m’love.” He mumbles into your shoulder as he slips a slender digit into your entrance. Your walls flutter immediately around the intrusion, as he gently pumped into you.
He adds another finger, curling up to the spot he had neglected all those weeks. He extended his thumb to rub your clit. You arch your back against him, feeling his cock twitch against your ass.
“Hiro…” you moan, reaching behind for him, but he bites down lightly on your shoulder.
“Not yet, pretty girl, want you t’cum first okay?”
He whispers as he feels your gummy walls clench around him.
He speeds up his ministrations, digits stuffing your cunt as your pussy throbs and squelches. Your whimpers echo around the tiled walls, water lapping around your bodies.
You feel the pressure building as each thrust of his long fingers brush against your g-spot.
“g-gonna cum!”
“Cum f’me sweetheart please—god… need it so bad.” Hiromi mumbles as he pumps even faster.
“a-ahh!” you cry as you reach your high, walls clenching as you cum on your husband’s hand. He removes his fingers from you, moving to gently circle your clit as you come down from your orgasm.
You both stay there for a moment, your heavy breathing the only sound occupying the space, mingling with the gentle slosh of water against the porcelain tub. Hiromi’s arms wrapped securely around your waist, pulling you closer.
Slowly, he lifted you, the warm water swirling around you both as he maneuvered you to face him, settling you on his lap. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, your knees pressing against the cool sides of the tub.
You straddled Hiromi, your bodies now fully aligned, chest to chest. Your husband's dark, half-lidded eyes bore into yours, his expression a mixture of raw need and unspoken tenderness. He let his hands rest on your waist for a moment, thumbs tracing gentle circles against your damp skin as he took in the sight of you.
“I don’t know how I’ve stayed away from you for so long…” his voice breaking slightly as if the admission pained him.
Your breath hitched as you shifted slightly in his lap, feeling the tension between you intensify. Hiromi’s hands slid up your sides, his touch deliberate and slow, leaving a trail of heat in their wake as his lips finally found yours. The kiss was deep, full of hunger that had been simmering between you both for far too long.
His grip on your waist tightened as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours in a dance that left you dizzy with need.
Breaking the kiss, Hiromi leaned his forehead against yours, his breath coming in shallow gasps.
“I won’t make that mistake again.”
Without a word, he rose from the tub, lifting you effortlessly into his arms. Water cascaded down your bodies, pooling at your feet as he carried you toward the bedroom, his lips trailing wet kisses down the side of your neck.
He laid you gently onto the bed, your back sinking into the soft silken sheets, but Hiromi didn’t waste any time. His gaze darkening as he climbed over you, his body hovering just above yours, his eyes drinking you in like a man starved.
“I’m going to make up for every second I’ve missed.”
#kbwrites#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jjk fanfic#jjk x reader#higuruma hiromi#higuruma x reader#higuruma smut#jjk smut#jjk higuruma#hiromi x reader#hiromi x y/n
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▷ First Time?
Synopsis . When you get paired with the campus asshole, Sukuna, for a project, the last thing you expect to learn about him is that he’s a damn virgin. Nor did you expect to be the one to change that. / Pairing . virgin!Sukuna x fem!reader / Content . afab!reader, oral sex (m!receiving), premature ejac, non-curse college au, dirty talk, pet names, degrading, porn w plot, teasing, taunting, filth, etc. / wc . 6k
A/N: ty to the nonnie on my main who asked if I’d ever write virgin!jjk men :3 [MDNI]
Who would’ve thought?
Of all people, Sukuna, a virgin? It just didn’t make sense.
He was this stand-offish asshole who most people respected out of pure fear. He didn’t exactly do parties and yet you could always find him at one. He’d always have some chick on his arm or even in his lap so, in what world would anyone with a brain assume he’s actually never been inside a woman before?
And to make his lack of game all the more unbelievable, he’s even rumored to have a big dick— it’s like some overly well-known campus fact about the guy.
So, again, what reason would anyone have to think the guy was a virgin?
Certainly not you, of course. And you don’t expect to be the only person to find out such information either.
The way you find out is probably even more bizarre than the fact itself. You and him had little to no reason to ever interact with each other. You weren’t some shy nerd who holed herself up in her room all day or anything but you weren’t much of the party type other.
You were stuck somewhere in the middle of all that, vicariously living through some of your friends who had better things going for them.
As such, there was no real reason for you and Sukuna to cross paths. He never even had a reason to acknowledge your existence until the two of you are paired up together for a project in the one class you happen to take together.
——
The background noise is the chatter of your fellow classmates and their own project partners, you find your partner grumbling out a low, “What?” In response to your last statement, having hardly heard a thing you said.
“I said,” You huff, sitting beside the man in question as today marks week two of you being paired up with him for this semester’s project, “We should be meeting up outside of class too. We could get his knocked out in like a day if you just-“
“Oh that,” Sukuna cuts off casually. Seated all slouched back in his seat, his legs sprawled out in that signature manspread of his— he rolls his eyes at your little reminder, “You said somethin’ about that last week.”
You speak through slightly gritted teeth, fighting the headache he’s about to give you from this conversation alone, “All the more reason for you to take it into consideration. The faster we get this done, the less we have to deal with each other.”
As you say that, you glance at him only to find his eyes directly on yours already. He’s got such lazy posture, his head tilted slightly whilst he gazes at you so intently, and his big muscular arms folded across his chest. Even wearing a black hoodie and gray sweats, he still looks as attractive as ever— mean low-lidded crimson eyes locked on yours, tattooed face so beautifully defined, and rosy lips pulled into such an uninterested little frown.
Up until your words hit his ears properly, “The less we have to deal with each other, huh?” Sukuna repeats, narrowing his eyes even further at you, “You barely even know me ‘nd yet you want nothing to do with me already.”
“I know enough about you, Sukuna,” You say with a sigh, “And you hardly contribute to this project as is. Which only proves that everything they say about you is probably true.”
He arches a brow, his interest piquing, “And what exactly do people say about me?”
You let off a light scoff, “Don’t act like you don’t know.”
“But I don’t know,” Sukuna tells you honestly, maroon eyes boring into yours.
You stare for a moment as you try to decipher whether or not he’s being honest right now. How does he not know what people say about him? Everyone talks about his brooding personality very openly.
“They say you’re an ass,” You eventually say to the man.
To which his lips twitch into a slight smirk, “And you believe that?”
“Seeing as I’ve asked you to, at the very least, type your name on this document and you haven’t even done that yet,” You scoff, “Yes.”
The two of you mildly glare at one another for a moment before Sukuna leans up in his seat. Breaking eye contact for just a moment to look at his laptop, he swiftly moves to open up that shared document of yours and types his name out with a heavy sigh.
After which, he’s slouching back again and looking at you, “Don’t believe everything people tell you, woman.”
You roll your eyes at him, “What? Are you not fond of rumors? That still doesn’t negate the fact that you’re an assho-“
“When do you want to meet up?” Sukuna grumbles out almost reluctantly, watching the way you pause and swallow thickly as he catches you off-guard.
He’s almost even intrigued by how quickly you bounce back, despite being caught by surprise, “Friday. Are you free?”
“Unfortunately,” He grumps.
You give him a little shrug, “Good. I’ll see you then.”
And that was it. That was how each and every interaction with you and Sukuna went. Bickering back and forth about him not doing shit to help you with something that’ll affect your grade majorly, criticizing you about being too focused and needing to relax every now and then, and even calling you a stuck-up little brat one time— it was safe to say, you and Sukuna didn’t get along too well.
Not that you minded anyway. He wasn’t your first partner to care little about their grade so, you knew how to deal with these kinds of people by now. Typically, you indulge yourself in their craving to ‘relax’ just once and then they promise to start helping. You’ve gone down that path before and it’s worked for you then so you assume things will go the same way with Sukuna.
Plus, you guess you can give him a slight pass for his asshole attitude, at least he has a pretty face to look at. Dark ink always decorating his awfully smooth skin, deep dark yet beautiful ruby-shaded eyes boring into whatever it is his focus on, and broad shoulders looming over your smaller figure every time he stands in front of you— you can't help but feel both attracted and intimidated by the man.
——
Which is exactly why when you open your apartment door for the scheduled meetup that Friday to crane your head up at him, you’re swallowing thickly to settle your nerves. You’ve never been alone with the man so of course you’re a bit nervous.
Especially with the way he gazes down at you like that’s exactly where you belong: beneath him. His eyes are filled to the brim with intensity and yet he’s only just set them on you. Wearing a noticeable black compression shirt and those signature gray sweets of his, he almost appears as though he’d just come from the gym.
And just as you take in his appearance, he very openly takes in yours— his eyes raking over your body and taking in every single inch of you. After all, just as it was your first time alone with him, it was his first time seeing you dress so comfortably. He doesn’t even try to hide the way he stares at your tits peeking out from the rather thin spaghetti-strap top you were wearing, his eyes soon trailing down slowly to those tauntingly short shorts you had on.
“So,” Sukuna swipes his tongue over his lips and cocks his head to the side, hands stuffed in his pockets and eyes yet to lift from your legs, “Are you gonna stare at me all day or are you gonna let me in?”
You blink out of whatever little daze you were in, having found yourself gazing at his chest far longer than you meant to. It was right in front of your face after all, how could you look anywhere else? And his shirt was so damn tight, the fabric hugging his well-toned body perfectly, so much so that you swore you could make out piercings on his-
Sukuna leans forward suddenly, his face nearing yours to gain your full attention, “If you keep staring at me like that, I’m gonna assume you invited me over for something else-“
“Sorry,” You chirp out as you clear your throat and awkwardly step back a bit to let him in, “You can come in.”
Nodding, Sukuna slips by you and you shut your apartment door behind him. Then, you’re quick to lead him over to your living room where you’d previously been working on your project.
The two of you are hasty to take a seat on your couch, both of you only a few inches apart from one another whilst you lean toward your coffee table and log into your already open laptop. Sukuna’s eyes are all over you as always, studying your side profile, your intent focus on the screen in front of you, and even the way you-
“Did you even bring anything?” You suddenly ask before you glance at the man.
Sukuna quickly meets your gaze, ripping his eyes off of wherever they’d been previously, “Was I supposed to?”
“Sukuna,” You sigh out, “Please tell me you’re joking right now.”
He swallows at the mere sound of his name rolling off your tongue in that scolding tone of yours— he’s heard such a tone from you time and time again and yet, for whatever reason, it never seems to annoy him.
“I’m not.” He says plainly.
“How are we supposed to work on this if you-,” You cut yourself off and decide not to even attempt arguing with him. Arguing won’t change the fact that he showed up with nothing. “Just uhm,” You glance elsewhere for a second before an idea comes to mind and you place your laptop down and stand up, “Stay here.”
Sukuna doesn’t say anything. He merely watches as you huff and walk off, swiftly exiting the living room and disappearing down a nearby hall. He swears he finds himself looking at you a bit more than intended. Especially as you walked off, his eyes dropping to your ass and those damn shorts of yours.
Even when you’re out of his sight, he still finds himself staring in the direction of which you went, almost unable to look away for whatever strange reason.
That lasts for a few minutes until he snaps out of it and leans back against the couch, tossing his head back and letting out a long sigh. You soon return to find him with an arm stretched along the back of the couch, his legs spread as usual, and his eyes up on the ceiling.
He doesn’t even notice you’ve returned until he feels something placed in his lap. Looking down, Sukuna finds your laptop kindly set on top of him. To which his brows furrowed in confusion and he looked at you to see you sitting on the floor in between the couch and the coffee table with a paper and pencil in front of you.
“What’s this?” Sukuna scoffs.
You don’t even spare him a glance as you begin writing something down, “How we’ll get things done.” He opens his mouth to say something but then you’re looking back at him with a glare, “I already organized the parts of this project that you have to do so, since it’s on my computer, you can work on that and I’ll work with what I remember.”
You wholeheartedly expected him to find something about this to disagree with you on but, to your surprise, he simply nods and redirects his focus to your laptop immediately.
And then, the two of you work exactly like that for the remainder of that little study session.
——
Sukuna’s not terrible to work with when it’s just you and him. If anything, he’s rather cooperative and a lot smarter than he leads on.
Which is why a solid two hours of productivity flies by surprisingly smoothly with him. If you asked him a question, he answered. Told him to do something, he’d say something snarky, and then do whatever it is you’ve instructed anyway.
It all went so perfectly up until he let out a really heavy sigh, “Alright, I’ve had enough for this.” Sukuna says casually.
He’s been repeating a similar phrase every thirty minutes or so but he usually gets right back to work after getting ignored by you. This time though, you get the feeling he’s serious when he pushes your laptop off of his lap and places it forward on the coffee table.
It’s then that you frown, “Oh c’mon, we were getting so much done,” You comment as you glance back to him.
He shrugs, “I can’t keep looking at that damn screen, it’s giving me a headache.”
“Of course it is,” You utter sarcastically, rolling your eyes whilst you place your pencil down and throw your arms up to stretch, “Fine then, we can take a break.”
Sukuna’s brows lift in surprise. He didn’t expect you to listen to him, “Good.” He hums, “I was getting bored as well.”
You scoff, “Were you?”
“Yeah, can we do something else?” He asks.
Turning around, you rotate the way you’re sitting so that you’re facing him and your back is resting against your coffee table. “Like what?” You muse, meeting his low-lidded gaze.
“Talk,” Sukuna says.
That’s it? He wanted a break to talk to you? Your eyes are narrowing at him before you even realize, “Talk?” You repeat with a scoff, “Seriously?”
He nods, “Mhm.”
“What do you wanna talk about, Sukuna?” As you ask him that, you watch the way his eyes casually slide down to your lips.
Does he mean to be this indiscreet with his looks? Or is he eyeing you down like that on purpose?
The man shrugs, “Anything outside of fuckin’ school.”
You laugh at that, “Okay, I can work with that.”
He tilts his head at you and licks his lips, “Yeah?” Something about your little laugh threw him off.
“Mhm,” You hum as you look down at your hand, fiddling with your nails a bit, “The rumors… are they true?”
Thrown off yet again, Sukuna’s brows pinch together. “Rumors?” He echoes in a genuinely confused tone, “What rumors, woman?”
The sound of your scoff makes him stiffen in his seat. Almost in an instant, the atmosphere had changed suddenly. “C’mon, don’t play dumb,” You tease, lifting your gaze to him again, “The rumors about you.”
He gives you a perplexed look and it’s almost as though you could see the gears in his head turning. “If you know something, say it.” He demands.
You sigh, “Sukuna, do you seriously hear nothing people say about you?”
Sukuna shrugs, “I don’t care enough to remember. So what is it? What rumor?”
You’re just curious. You swear that’s all it was. And, naturally, since he seemed to have warmed up to you— of course you wanted to know if that rumor about his dick was true. You’re both adults and it’s just a silly question. Plus, with the way he’s been looking at you all afternoon, you’re sure he won’t mind answering you with a simple yes or no.
Glancing to the side, your shoulders lift a bit, “It’s uh, rather intimate.” You hush out.
Sukuna narrows his eyes at you, “Intimate?? An intimate rumor about me?”
His emphasis on himself makes your eyes flick back over to him. “Yeah, are you sure you don’t know what they say about you??” You ask again.
“Positive. Now speak, what is it they say?” Sukuna huffs impatiently, even more curious about this little rumor after the mention of it being intimate. After all, he’s never-
“People say you have a big dick,” You utter way too casually.
So nonchalantly that it makes him choke, a choke you don’t mess with the way he clears his throat and sits up a little. “What?” He rasps out.
You bat those stupidly false innocent eyes at him, “I didn’t stutter,” Your tone dips into something different and he catches every bit of it, “People say you have a big dick, is it true?”
Sukuna clears his throat and for the first time, he glances away from you. Then, he opens and closes his mouth, contemplating his next words carefully before they soon fall from his lips, “You wanna find out?”
His offer spurs a shift in your seat from you as you scoot closer to him ever so slightly, “You wanna show me?” You ask boldly, your tone direct, and not even a flicker of hesitation present.
“Do I want to-,” Sukuna pauses, his eyes scanning the entirety of your seated frame as you inch closer to him, “What?” He huffs, swallowing thickly.
You move to stand on your knees and lean forward to the couch, soon propping your chin up on your palm as you look at him, “Show me,” You chuckle, “I asked if you wanted to show me, Sukuna.”
He blinks, “Show you my cock?”
You shrug, “Yeah.”
The air is so thick right now, Sukuna’s not sure how exactly he can play this off without making a fool of himself. He gulps yet again, only to watch as your eyes start to drop down along his body.
“Stop,” He rushes out, “Keep your eyes up here. On mine,” He commands in a low tone, earning your gaze once more.
And then it’s quiet for a moment. He’s staring at you and you’re obediently keeping your eyes up on his. Sukuna hates it but he doesn’t know what to say or do from here. The last thing he wanted was for you to find out his little secret.
It’s like he was waiting for a fucking pin to drop, something to break the silence. Yet, his mind was going blank and words were failing him at the moment. He’s flirted with women before, plenty of times actually, effortlessly even— but for whatever reason, as you sit there with those stupidly pretty eyes staring at him, his mind simply flakes on him.
He’s like that for a minute longer until you move. So subtly too, sliding a hand to his thigh, leaning forward slightly, batting your lashes at him, “Sukuna?” You whisper.
His hips are rolling upward slightly at the sound of his name alone. “W-What?” He stammers, mentally cursing himself a thousand times over.
“If you don’t wanna show me you can jus’ say no,” You hum, smiling a bit, “Y’know that, right?”
He scoffs, “Of course I know that, woman.”
“If you know that then…” Your fingers lightly squeeze his thigh and you tilt your head, “Are you gonna tell me or show me whether or not those rumors are true?”
Something simply clicks inside Sukuna’s head. Rose-tinted lips cracking into a smirk, the man spreads his legs further and slouches back into the couch, “Find out for yourself since you’re so curious.”
Your eyes go wide, “What?”
Sukuna scoffs lightly, moving one of his arms from the back of the couch and placing his hand over his crotch. Of course, your gaze sinks down to his veiny hand, watching as he palms a stupidly large bulge in his sweats.
Your breath hitches a bit, “I-I-“
You don’t even get the chance to get it out before he’s cutting you off, “C’mere,” Sukuna hums in that low voice of his.
“What?” You whisper.
You and him make eye contact again and he nods his chin toward the space in between his legs. Nothing can really explain why you follow his gesture and quickly find yourself sitting in between his legs, taking a deep breath as you settle your hands on his thighs.
Sliding your touch up and up and up until your fingers graze his hand. The same hand that was resting on top of that aching bulge of his.
Sukuna slowly lifts his hand up and away, relaxing his arm on the back of the couch again as he stares down at you. Cocking his head to the side, “Well? Feel it.” He huffs.
You don’t even hesitate. Trailing your fingers upward carefully until you feel the outline of his cock beneath your fingertips, gulping as you drag your hand up to cup his length in your hand firmly, and smirking at the way his cock twitches furiously beneath your small touch.
Sukuna’s mouth falls open for a second but you’re too engrossed in feeling him to notice. He lets out a shuddered breath as he watches the way you grope his steadily growing erection. His head even tosses back and his fingers dig into the couch for a moment.
“It is big,” You whisper to yourself, your words only making him twitch more within your hand.
“Fuck,” Sukuna grits out lowly, hips unconsciously lifting to press himself further against you.
His curse earns your attention. You quickly glance up to him and see the way he’s got his head tossed back, Adam's apple bobbing with every heavy gulp he takes, and his chest rising and falling rather quickly.
You lift your hand carefully and decide to test something out. Slowly, you lean forward and just barely press your lips against his clothed cock.
Sukuna’s whole body reacts. He gasps louder than he means to and he’s weaving his fingers through your hair faster than he realizes, palming your scalp as he quickly looks down at you. “T-The fuck are you doing? Huh?” He huffs while gripping onto your hair.
You lift your head a bit but he keeps you in place, despite his question to you. “I just…” You’re not exactly sure you can explain yourself.
And by this point, Sukuna doesn’t think he cares enough to hear an excuse from you, “…You what? You wanna see it?”
All you can do is give him a little nod before he moves his free hand to the drawstring of his sweatpants. Then you're quick to help him tug them down until his boxers are revealed to you— a noticeable dampness in the fabric right where his leaking tip is. Was that because of you?
Before you can dawn on your own questions, Sukuna’s moving to tug his cock out. And fuck is he even bigger revealed before your eyes. With an upward curve, such an angry flushed tip, precum dripping from the slit of his fat cockhead, veins decorating his shaft and-
Shit, you were drooling. How’d you get like this again?? Ah, who cares?
“Sukuna,” You breathe out, ripping your eyes away from his cock just to look up at him.
He was almost panting, dark maroon eyes pouring down into yours, face flushed with different shades of red and pink, his lips parted softly— hell, he looked like he was in heat or something.
Gulping before he answers you, Sukuna clears his throat and his voice is already husky, “What?”
You shift against the floor, your hands relaxing against his large thighs, “Can I-“
“Yeah,” He cuts off. Lord knows if you got that question out he was going to lose his damn mind.
You raise a brow and lean forward, keeping your eyes on his while your lips near his tip, “Yeah?”
The last thing you get from him is a nod before you’re parting your lips. And from that moment forward, it all goes downhill. Everything from the way you’re sitting in between his legs to that initial connection of your plush lips against his drooling cock had Sukuna’s mind spinning.
He’s never been sucked off before. Hell, the farthest he’s gone as far as sexual activities are concerned is a little bit of dry humping. But this? Oh hell, this was his first time and he had zero idea how he was going to keep that information away from you.
Especially when he feels your tongue slip from between your lips and swirl around the head of his cock, kittenly lapping up that slim layer of precum sitting so prettily on his tip.
“Oh f-fuuck,” Sukuna groans huskily, the hand on your head gripping tighter.
You pull away from him slightly just to take in his expression and the way he tosses his head back. It was almost cute to you. The last thing you expected was for him to be so damn sensitive, you hardly did anything.
His sensitivity only worsens as you finally start wrapping your lips around his cock, feeling him throb when you sink your mouth down on him. Sukuna’s jaw goes slack and his brows twist up. He tries his best to hold it in but he can’t help but moan at the way you leisurely suck on half of his lengthy cock.
Your saliva wets up the rest of his shaft and you make up for what your mouth hasn’t reached yet with your hand, stroking him lightly whilst you take the rest of his girth in and out of your mouth. Rolling your tongue around him, pulling off just to messily spit and kiss on his blushing tip, and slobbering all over him— Sukuna almost fucking kicked something with how good your mouth felt around him.
He’s used his hand and other shit before but holy fuck, nothing, and he means nothing compares to that damn mouth of yours. The way you look with his cock stuffed right in between those lips he’s been staring at for God knows how long— your lips all slick with spit, eyes rolling back the deeper you take him, and tongue sticking out every time you pull your mouth off of him.
You soon slip your mouth off of him and start jerking him off, focusing your tongue on his tip and slithering the wet muscle in between the slit of his cock, lathering your tongue up with his glistening precum.
The sound of Sukuna groaning makes you look up at him, finding his eyes on yours again. He’s panting, trying his best to look like this wasn’t phasing him but failing in every way with how flushed his face was.
Your tongue sticks out and your hand continues to slide up and down his cock as you tap his tip on your tongue, making his brows twist up.
He bites back a throaty sound, “Hah… damn brat,” Sukuna huffs out as if to… degrade you?
You almost find it cute how clearly inexperienced he is, spitting a fat wad of spit onto his pretty wet tip and then smiling at him, “Sukuna,” You coo, your hand gripping his shaft tighter, “Is this your first time?”
He instantly looks off to the side, the veins in his neck and along his jawline tensing as he grits his teeth. Since he decides to ignore your little question, you take it a step further and slide your hand down his cock, gripping his thick base firmly before taking him into your heavenly warm mouth again.
His expression breaks completely, “Oh shit,” Sukuna moans, his hips bucking up into your mouth as you slide him deeper into your mouth than you did before.
Then his hand is pushing your head down further on instinct and he’s subtly rutting his hips up. You lift your head up despite his constant pushing, soon causing your head to bob up and down whilst you suck him off skillfully.
“Jus’ like that,” Sukuna suddenly groans and you moan around his cock in reaction. To which he keeps giving your mouth mindless little thrusts, “Don’t s-, agh, stop.”
Sucking him deeper and deeper before you move your hand completely, you suck in a deep breath of air through your nose, open up the very back of your throat, and sink all the way down, your lips meeting his pelvis as your eyes roll to the back of your head.
Sukuna kicks something. Probably your coffee table with the way one of his legs extends out so suddenly, a choked-out groan ripped from his throat as your little move was all it took for him to cum. And it’s so much too, hot thick ropes of cum spurting down your throat, his hand holding onto your head for dear life whilst a moan of your name rolls off his tongue.
You’re still sucking too, pulling up only to swallow what he’s gifted you and then stick your tongue out. Laying it flat against his tip, you leisurely lick at him as if to beg for more and now the man’s pushing your head away for the first time.
When you lift your eyes up to him again, you notice he’s got his tattooed arm over his mouth and his lashes are batting softly at you. For such a big man, he was so ridiculously cute right now. Panting, sweating, cursing under his breath as if you couldn’t hear him.
“Yeah,” Sukuna utters suddenly, clearing his throat, “That was… my first… time. I uh-“
“Do you want more?” Is the last thing you asked him before you were sitting back on your heels and he was stumbling to his feet.
You had to guide him through it of course but, Sukuna doesn’t hesitate to stuff your face full of his cock again. You take him so kindly too, obediently sitting there with your hands gripping his thighs for support with every careful thrust of his hips.
He was trying to be gentle with you at first. Partially because he didn’t know what the hell he was doing, and also because he just loved the initial entry into your mouth. Over and over, Sukuna slid his dick in and out of your mouth like he was possessed, addicted to the feeling of you greedily sucking on him.
He was still sensitive from his first orgasm but his cock had yet to go down— twitching inside that sloppy mouth of yours, aching against your tongue, and dripping into the depths of your throat. Sukuna wasn’t much of a talker but he damn sure let out a plethora of grunts and groans.
They were so husk too, coming from deep within his chest, some getting caught in his throat when he felt your tongue flick against a specific vein on the underside of his cock. His fat tip knocked into the back of your throat with a single heavy thrust before his hands were latching onto the sides of your head.
Again, he’s not much of a talker but, something seems to come over him all at once because soon he’s got his gaze locked down on the messy sight of you and he’s huffing out words before he realizes. “Eyes up here, c’mon, hah… look at me,” Sukuna grunts.
Your eyes are completely glossed over as they flutter up to him. A moan vibrates against his skin as you make such intimate eye contact with the man, feeling his hips pick up.
Sukuna nods, “Good girl,” He praises in a low purr, and fuck does that do wonders for you because your legs are squeezing together more than they were before and you’re whining against him. “Fuck, y’like that?” He huffs, earning a sloppy lil’ nod from you.
He then feels you hum, “M-Mhm.” And he’s got chills slipping up his spine in pleasure.
Cracking a lazy, lopsided, and almost fucked-out little smirk, Sukuna scoffs, “Yeah? Fuck, behind all those g-glares ‘nd-, agh, scolding me… this is all you wanted, hm? A throat full of cock?”
His words had you whining again, fluttering your lashes at him as your fingertips dug into his thighs a little. Sukuna eases his hips back slowly, tipping his head to the side as he gently caresses the side of your face with his thumb.
“Messy girl,” He hums deeply, biting his lower lip at the way you’re just drooling for more and more as he pulls himself out of your mouth completely. “Jus’ look at this face,” Sukuna chuckles, “Y’look like a slut cryin’ like that— it’s cute.”
Blinking, you hadn’t even realized you had a tear or two sliding down your face. Your mouth remains open for a second before he moves to rub his tip against your plump lips, smearing your spit and his cum all over the damn place with a little grin on his face.
“‘Kuna…” You whisper, earning a quirk of his brow, “I can’t believe you’re a virg-“
“Don’t finish that sentence,” He grunts, moving a thumb to your chin to widen how open your mouth is for him, “Jus’… keep sittin’ there lookin’ pretty f’me,” Sukuna says.
You roll your eyes at him and all he can do is smile, pushing his hips forward again and easing his cock in between your lips. He slides in slowly until you can feel him pressing right against the back of your throat. To which he keeps himself there for a second, testing that gag reflex of yours and watching your eyes water.
Moving his hand back to the top of your head, he buries his fingers in your hair, “So fuckin’ sexy like this,” Sukuna compliments, feeling you moan in response, “M’gonna cum again, stay j-just like that,” He breathes out heavily, his eyes rolling to the back of his skull before he’s throwing his head back.
And as if to coax his orgasm out, you carefully move a hand to cup his balls, sucking on his cock as best as you can and earning an accidental sound from his throat. The second your palm is felt against him, the moment he feels your tongue slicking against him, Sukuna whines.
Then his thighs are tensing and he’s groaning loudly as if to cover up the sound that just left his lips, filling your throat with his seed and then tugging your mouth off of him with a quick pull of your head. You’re quick to swallow for yet a second time, letting out a needed cough after the fact while he stumbles back just a bit, his calves hitting the couch.
“Vixen,” Sukuna growls.
You clear your throat and send a smile his way, “Not my fault you cum easy.”
Sukuna’s slow to sit back down on the couch to catch his breath, “Tell anyone about this ‘nd I’ll-“
“Oh,” You suddenly purr, cutting him off as you lift yourself up from the ground. He watches with slightly widened eyes as you move to straddle him, “Don’t tell me you thought we were done?”
He’s at a loss for words all over again, his confidence suddenly getting caught in his throat and flying out the window. Your hands slip to his broad shoulders and you lean forward a little.
Sukuna’s hands shakily find their way to your waist as he stares up at you, “You want more?”
You smirk, tilting your head at the dumbfounded male, “Don’t you?” You ask in a sultry little whisper, making his sensitive cock twitch once more. “At the very least…” Your lips slowly near his and he’s losing his breath, “Taste yourself, Sukuna.”
And then your lips are on his and he’s taking your tongue into his mouth. His grip on your waist tightens before he pulls you flush against him, feeling your crotch press right against his cock that’s steadily twitching back to life.
The two of you share a heated and messy kiss, your hips carefully swaying against him to encourage his returning arousal. You can’t really use curiosity as an excuse anymore, can you?
Well, you can. And you do with the way your hands slide down to his chest, your fingers slipping over his nipples to find exactly what you’d been curious about. You flick your fingers over his piercing there and Sukuna lets out a low hiss, prying his lips from yours and sending you a glare.
Not only did that little move of yours make his cock spring up completely but, you also notice the frown on his face.
Smiling at him, “Sukuna…”
“Don’t.” He huffs.
“You have nipple piercings?” You end up asking anyway in a happy little tone.
He grits his teeth slightly, “…Obviously.”
Chuckling, you press a soft peck against his lips and whisper, “Can I see them?”
“No.” He replies.
Part two.
#sukuna#sukuna smut#smut#sukuna ryomen#ryomen sukuna#jjk ryomen#jujutsu kaisen ryomen#jjk smut#anime smut#sukuna x reader#sukuna x you#sukuna x y/n#sukuna ryoumen x reader#sukuna ryoumen smut#sukuna ryoumen x you#jjk#jjk x you#jjk x reader#jjk x reader smut#jjk x y/n#jjk x you smut#ryoumen sukuna#jjksmut#jujutsu kaisen smut
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The Marriage Bet
Pairings: Best Friend Bucky Barnes x F!Reader
Themes: A bet. A bit of comedy but mostly fluff and Bucky treating his woman right ;)
Summary: If in three years time both of you were still single, you will marry your best friend, Bucky. That's the bet.
A/N: For those of you who voted for 'Calm Down, Dad Mode' I've added it to this story. This has got to be my favorite fluff FML. Also let me TELL YOU, the cravings in pregnancy and the emotions are real because I lived it lmao. PART 2
Three Years Ago
"You know what we should do?” Bucky said out of the blue, his gaze fixed on you with a seriousness that made your stomach flip. The two of you had been lounging on his couch for hours, talking about everything and nothing. It was a lazy night filled with laughter, shared memories, and the kind of comfortable silence only you and Bucky knew how to savour.
You glanced over at him, raising an eyebrow. “What?”
“If we’re still single in three years… let’s get married,” he announced, as if it was the most logical suggestion in the world. His tone was light, but there was a quiet intensity in his eyes that made it clear he wasn’t joking.
You stared at him for a moment, trying to gauge if he was serious. “Bucky, have you lost your mind?”
“Maybe,” he admitted with a shrug, his lips twitching up into that familiar smirk that made your heart skip. “But think about it. No more crappy dates, no more getting your heart broken by idiots who don’t deserve you. Just us. You and me. We already know each other’s worst habits, and we get along. It’d be a good marriage.”
You scoffed, shaking your head. “You make it sound like we’re signing up for a business merger.”
He laughed at that, the sound deep and genuine. “Maybe. But at least you’d know you’re stuck with someone who’s never going to walk out on you. Someone who’d fight for you.”
The way he said it made your throat tighten, and for a second, you allowed yourself to picture it. A life with Bucky, the two of you navigating the ups and downs together. No more failed relationships, no more loneliness. Just the comfort and security of someone who knew you better than anyone else.
“You’re serious, aren’t you?” you murmured, still stunned by the idea.
He nodded, his gaze never leaving yours. “Yeah, I am. So, what do you say?”
You hesitated for just a beat, then broke into a grin. “Deal, Barnes. If we’re still single in three years, I’ll marry your crazy ass.”
He grinned back, his hand shooting out to seal the promise with a firm handshake. But as your fingers clasped around his, the energy between you shifted — playful and yet, inexplicably serious.
“Deal,” he echoed softly, a knowing look in his eyes that sent a shiver down your spine.
× × × ×
Present
You leaned against the railing of the rooftop, your eyes skimming over the city lights below as the faint notes of Taylor Swift’s break-up songs filled the air. You and Bucky had been up here for hours, talking and drinking, the night air crisp against your skin.
It had been a rough few months for you — the breakup still felt fresh, the sting of rejection and disappointment lingering. But being here with Bucky made it easier. He had a way of grounding you, of making you feel like everything would be okay, even when it didn’t seem that way.
“Y’know, you’re the best,” you murmured, your words slurred slightly from the champagne. “I mean it, Buck. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
He smiled softly, his gaze warm as he watched you. “Good thing you don’t have to find out, huh?”
You nodded, letting out a sigh as you turned back to the view. “Still, I feel like… I don’t know. Like I’m destined to be alone or something.”
“That’s not true,” he said quietly, setting his glass down and turning to face you fully. “And you know it.”
You shrugged, glancing over at him. “Yeah, well, sometimes it feels like it. Everyone I’ve ever dated just—”
You stopped mid-sentence as Bucky suddenly shifted, reaching into his pocket. Your eyes widened as he pulled out a small blue velvet box and, without hesitation, flipped it open. The soft light of the rooftop glinted off the 1.5-carat diamond ring nestled inside — simple, elegant, and undeniably breathtaking.
“What’s that?” you asked, your breath catching in your throat.
Bucky arched an eyebrow, giving you a pointed look. “An engagement ring, Y/N. What else?”
“Yeah, I know it’s a ring!” you sputtered, your mind reeling. “But why—how—what are you doing with it?”
Bucky sighed, muttering under his breath, “For someone so smart, she really can’t see what’s right in front of her.”
You barely had time to process the words before he got up from his sitting position and slowly knelt down on one knee. The movement made your heart jump into your throat, your breath hitching as he looked up at you, his eyes softer than you’d ever seen them.
“I want to marry you, Y/N,” he said, his voice firm and sure. “Not because of some bet or joke we made all those years ago, but because… I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to be the one you come home to. The one who makes you laugh when you’re sad. The one who fights for you.”
You felt your chest tighten as the weight of his words sank in, the sincerity in his voice making it almost impossible to breathe. “Bucky… this is—”
“I know this is crazy,” he continued, cutting you off gently, his gaze never leaving yours. “But when have we ever been normal, huh? I’m not asking you to feel something you don’t or to change anything between us. But I am a man of my word, and I’m keeping the promise we made.”
Your mind raced, memories of that night flashing through your mind — the promise, the shared laughter, the way he’d looked at you back then as if you were the only thing that mattered. And now, here he was, years later, kneeling in front of you with an engagement ring, ready to turn that promise into something real.
He took a deep breath, his hand trembling slightly as he held out the ring, his expression almost pleading. “So… will you marry me? Not because you feel like you have to, but because you want to?”
You stared down at him, your heart pounding wildly in your chest. The world seemed to fade away, the only thing anchoring you being his blue eyes, filled with nothing but hope and determination.
“Well? Say something, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice barely a whisper now. “Because I’m dying here.”
You let out a breathless laugh, the tears welling in your eyes spilling over as you shook your head in disbelief.
“You’re really going all out, huh?” you teased, “Getting down on one knee and everything… how could I say no to a man with such dedication?”
Bucky blinked, caught off guard, and then let out a soft laugh of his own. “Is that a yes, or are you just stalling to make me sweat more?”
You glanced at the ring, then back at him, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. “I guess… if I have to be stuck with someone for the rest of my life… it might as well be you.”
“Yes,” you added quickly, your smile widening as you looked at him with all the warmth and affection you felt. “Of course it’s a yes, you idiot!”
Relief washed over his face, his grin so wide it could’ve lit up the entire rooftop. “You really know how to keep a guy on edge, don’t you?”
“Gotta keep things interesting,” you replied with a laugh, reaching out to brush your fingers against his cheek. “I can’t make it too easy for you.”
His chuckle was deep and genuine, the tension melting from his shoulders as he slipped the ring onto your finger, his eyes never leaving yours. “You can be so mean you know that?”
“Mean?” you scoffed, giving him a playful look of disbelief. “You’re proposing to me, remember? I’m just making sure you know exactly what you’re getting yourself into.”
Bucky shook his head, laughter bubbling up in his chest. “Oh, I know. And I’m still all in, even if you make me work for it.”
You grinned, stepping forward and wrapping your arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug. Bucky didn’t hesitate, his arms coming up to hold you close, his chin resting gently on top of your head. The warmth of his body against yours, the steady beat of his heart beneath your cheek.
Slowly, you pulled back just enough to look up at him, your chin resting on his chest as your eyes locked with his. The sound of the music drifted softly through the air, wrapping around you both like an embrace.
You could see the tenderness in his gaze, the way his eyes softened as he looked down at you. There was something indescribable in the way he held you, his hands warm and secure against your back, as if he never wanted to let go.
“You know,” you murmured softly, a small smile playing on your lips, “I completely forgot about that bet.”
Bucky’s lips quirked up at the corners as he started to sway gently, rocking you both back and forth in time with the music.
“Yeah? Good thing I haven’t.” he agreed quietly, his voice low and filled with something that made your heart flutter.
You let out a content sigh, closing your eyes for a moment as you swayed together under the soft glow of the rooftop lights, the melody of the song weaving its way into your soul. There was a peace, a sense of rightness in the way his hands rested on your waist, the way your fingers curled into his shirt.
Opening your eyes, you tilted your head slightly, the corners of your lips curving up into a playful smile. “I’m really going to make you regret this, you know.”
He chuckled softly, his thumb brushing gently against your side as he gazed down at you. “Doubt it. But you’re welcome to try, sweetheart—I mean what else could I possibly not know about you?”
Your smile widened as you looked up at him, chin resting on his chest. “Oh, you’ll find out. Just because we’re getting married doesn’t mean I’m not full of surprises.”
Bucky’s eyes sparkled with amusement as he leaned down slightly, his lips brushing against your temple. “Good. I wouldn’t want it any other way.”
“Just remember you asked for it,” you teased, your voice soft as your fingers toyed with the collar of his shirt. “You’re the one who’s committing to a lifetime of never quite knowing what I’ll do next.”
“Yeah?” he murmured, his gaze dipping to your lips before meeting your eyes again, a smile playing on his own. “I guess I like keeping things interesting, too.”
A laugh bubbled up in your chest, and you felt the tension melt away as you both swayed gently to the music. It felt like a new beginning — a promise that whatever came next, you’d be facing it together.
× × × ×
A few months later.
The garden was alive with soft laughter and murmurs as the afternoon sunlight filtered through the canopy of leaves. The air was filled with the delicate scent of roses and jasmine, and the gentle rustling of leaves provided the perfect backdrop for the small, intimate gathering of friends.
Bucky stood under the floral archway, his suit somehow both perfectly fitted and slightly askew in that way only Bucky could pull off. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his fingers drumming absently on his thigh. When you turned the corner, your eyes met his, and you couldn’t help but smile at the exaggerated sigh of relief he let out.
“Thank God you showed up,” he teased, his voice carrying over the gentle breeze. “Thought I’d have to marry Sam instead.”
You laughed, rolling your eyes as you made your way down the short aisle, trying to ignore the way your heart fluttered in your chest. “Yeah, yeah, keep it up, Barnes. He’d leave you at the altar, you know.”
Bucky grinned, his shoulders relaxing as you stepped up to him. “True. He couldn’t handle my morning breath.”
The officiant cleared his throat gently, drawing soft chuckles from your friends. Bucky’s gaze stayed locked on yours, a playful twinkle in his eyes as if you were sharing a private joke no one else could understand.
“You ready for this?” he murmured softly, his tone light but his smile genuine.
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” you replied, giving him a small nod.
The ceremony was simple and sweet, with your closest friends standing in a loose circle around you, their smiles reflecting the joy and camaraderie that had always defined your relationship with Bucky.
When it came time for the vows, Bucky cleared his throat dramatically, pulling a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket.
“I’m not good at this stuff,” he began, waving the paper around, “so I wrote it down. Just so I don’t forget the important parts. Like promising I won’t eat your fries without asking.”
You let out a snort, shaking your head. “So that’s why you’re marrying me? For my fries?”
“Partly,” Bucky said with a wink, earning a few laughs from your friends. “But seriously… I promise to always be your partner in crime. To watch bad movies with you, to be your go-to plus-one for all those events you hate, and to be the one you can call at 3 a.m. when the world feels like too much.”
His voice softened slightly, his gaze never wavering from yours. “I promise to be your best friend, to listen, and to support you. And yeah, to not eat your fries — unless you’re not looking.”
You chuckled, blinking back the unexpected prickle of tears. “Damn, Barnes. Setting the bar high for husband material, aren’t you?”
“Someone’s gotta do it,” he replied with a smirk.
When it was your turn, you took a deep breath, glancing down at your own slightly crumpled paper. “Bucky, I promise to keep being your reality check, to make sure you don’t take yourself too seriously. I promise to help you with your crazy woodworking projects, even when you refuse to read the instructions. And I promise to be your partner in all things — the weird, the good, and the unpredictable.”
Bucky’s grin softened into a small, genuine smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I think we’re gonna be pretty good at this whole marriage thing.”
“I think so too,” you murmured back.
The officiant’s voice broke through the quiet moment, his smile warm. “By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. Bucky, you may now—”
“Wait,” Bucky interrupted, holding up a hand as he turned to you, his expression half-serious, half-teasing. “Can I kiss you?”
You blinked, surprised. “What?”
“You know,” he said, shrugging a shoulder like it was the most natural thing in the world. “This is technically our first kiss. I want to get it right. So… how do you like it?”
A burst of laughter escaped you, the tension in your shoulders melting away as the sheer Bucky-ness of the question made you grin. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”
“Come on, humor me,” he pressed, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Slow? Gentle? Or should I just go for it?”
You shook your head, still laughing softly. “Just… kiss me, you goof.”
Bucky grinned, his eyes twinkling with affection. “Alright, Mrs. Barnes,” he said softly, leaning in. “I’ll make it good.”
His grin widened and shifts a little closer to you, Bucky dipped his head and you felt your noses brush. His breath is on your lips, and you quiver a bit at the odd sensation. Without another moment to spare you realise that he's pressing his lips to yours—it was nothing like you’d expected. His hand slipped to the small of your back, drawing you closer, his eyes fully closed. Bucky was concentrating on the kiss, and you realised that your eyes were wide open. Slowly you close them, hiding away your brilliant orbs.
Bucky’s lips are oddly doft in this kiss and it stays slow and sweet. He wrapped his arm around you more, lifting you slightly off your feet. The veil fluttered around you like a soft cocoon, and then everything disappeared as his mouth moved insync with you, his kiss remained slowly, his mouth molding against yours in a way that made your knees weak.
His fingers gently tangled in your hair, his thumb brushing softly along your cheekbone as if he couldn’t bear to stop touching you.
But then he shifted, tilting your head just slightly as he deepened the kiss, his hold around you tightening. It was then that you felt him let go completely — every barrier, every wall he’d kept up around himself crumbling as he poured everything into that kiss.
Somewhere in the distance, you could hear the faint cheers and whistles of your friends—Sam being the most obnoxious—but it all felt like background noise. It was just you and Bucky, wrapped up in this kiss that felt like it had been building up for years. His lips slid over yours with a kind of sweet intensity, a silent confession of everything he hadn’t said — of everything he didn’t know how to say.
When he finally pulled back, his forehead resting gently against yours, both of you were breathless, hearts pounding in unison. He didn’t let go, his arms still wrapped around you as if you might disappear if he loosened his grip.
A soft cheer went up from your friends—Sam being the most obvious— and Bucky’s grin turned almost smug. “How was that?”
You let out a shaky laugh, your hands clutching his shoulders as you tried to steady yourself. “Yeah, Buck. I think you got it just right.”
“Good,” he murmured, his eyes searching yours for a long, lingering moment before his smile widened into something boyish and relieved. “Just wanted to make sure.”
“Don’t worry,” you teased gently, brushing your thumb over his cheek. “You’re not getting rid of me after a kiss like that.”
Bucky’s laugh was soft, his nose brushing against yours. “Guess I should keep practicing, huh?”
You nodded, your grin matching his. “Yeah. Keep practicing, Barnes.”
And as he pulled you in for another kiss, slower and just as sweet as the first, you knew that this — all of this — was exactly how it was meant to be.
× × × ×
1.5 years later
You were pacing back and forth in the bathroom, your heart hammering in your chest. Every few seconds, your eyes would dart to the three little sticks sitting ominously on the edge of the sink — three white, plastic harbingers of potential chaos.
“Come on, come on, come on,” you whispered frantically to yourself, squeezing your eyes shut as if willing the tests to disappear — or at least show some clarity.
How did it come to this? You were supposed to be life partners — partners in crime, best friends — no strings attached, no expectations. Just two people who promised to be there for each other. Sure, you got married, but it was all because of the bet. A way to keep each other from loneliness, you both said. Nothing more, right?
Except somewhere along the line, late-night talks had turned into stolen kisses. Comforting hugs had turned into tangled limbs. And now… this.
“Oh my god, he’s going to flip,” you muttered, running a hand through your hair as you stared at the still-blank screens on the tests. “This isn’t how we were supposed to—”
“Supposed to what?”
You jumped about a foot in the air, letting out a small squeak of surprise as Bucky’s voice filled the bathroom. You whipped around, your heart nearly leaping out of your chest as you spotted him leaning casually against the doorframe, an amused smirk on his lips.
“Bucky! Don’t—don’t just sneak up on people like that!” you stammered, instinctively shuffling over to the sink to block his view.
His smirk widened. “I didn’t sneak. You’re just too distracted, sweetheart.” He pushed off the doorframe, crossing his arms as he stepped closer. “What’s going on in here?”
“Nothing!” you squeaked, your voice a little too high-pitched.
Bucky’s eyebrows shot up. “Uh-huh. So, you’re just hanging out in the bathroom, talking to yourself?”
“Yes!” you answered quickly, nodding like a bobblehead. “Yep, just a totally normal conversation with… myself. Very productive.”
He eyed you, suspicion etched all over his face. “Uh-huh. And why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost?”
“I don’t!” you lied, crossing your arms over your chest as if that could somehow shield you from his scrutiny.
Bucky took another step closer, his gaze flicking over your shoulder. “Then why are you standing like that?”
You moved subtly, trying to casually scoot to the left, but your back hit the edge of the sink. “Like what?”
“Like you’re hiding something,” he said, leaning down slightly to look your directly in the eyes. “What’s behind you, Y/N?”
“Nothing!” you insisted, but your hand twitched involuntarily, knocking into one of the sticks. It clattered onto the counter, bouncing once before rolling to a stop right at Bucky’s feet.
You froze.
Bucky’s eyes flicked down to the test, and his entire expression shifted — from curiosity to confusion to wide-eyed realization.
“Wait… is that a—?”
“No!” you yelped, diving forward to snatch up the stick and hide it behind your back. You stood there, breathing heavily, your face flushed with a mix of panic and embarrassment.
Bucky’s gaze slid back to you, his lips quirking into an incredulous smile. “Y/N, are those… pregnancy tests?”
You glanced around desperately, as if you could conjure up some kind of diversion to steer the conversation elsewhere. “Uh… no? Maybe?”
“Sweetheart…” Bucky stepped around your easily, and in one quick motion, he plucked the other two tests off the sink. He held them up, his eyes wide and eyebrows nearly disappearing into his hairline. “There are three.”
“Yeah, well… you know, the first one could be a fluke, and the second one too, and…” you trailed off, wincing at how ridiculous you sounded.
Bucky blinked, then let out a bark of laughter. “Three tests, huh? You’re nothing if not thorough.”
“Bucky!” you hissed, mortification washing over you. “This isn’t funny!”
“Maybe not,” he admitted, though his lips were still twitching with amusement. “But you’re freaking out over here, hiding them like I wasn’t gonna notice.”
“I wasn’t freaking out!” you lied, folding your arms across your chest again. “I was just… assessing the situation.”
He raised an eyebrow, waving one of the tests in front of your face. “Assessing, huh? And what’s the situation, then?”
You groaned, squeezing your eyes shut. “I don’t know, okay? I haven’t looked at them yet!”
There was a beat of silence. Then—
“Wait, you haven’t looked?” Bucky’s voice was filled with genuine disbelief. “You’ve been pacing around in here, stressing yourself out, and you haven’t even checked?”
“I’m not ready!” you snapped defensively. “I mean… what if they’re positive?”
Bucky’s grin softened into something more genuine, and he stepped forward, gently cupping your cheek. “Then they’re positive.”
Your eyes met his, the sincerity and calmness in his gaze making some of your panic ebb away. “But we’re not even— I mean, this was supposed to be—”
“A bet?” he finished softly, a hint of something unreadable in his eyes. “Yeah. I remember. But bets don’t always go the way you plan.”
You swallowed hard, your heart still hammering wildly. “You’re not… mad?”
“Mad?” he repeated, his expression incredulous. “Why the hell would I be mad? I mean, sure, this is unexpected. But mad?” He shook his head, chuckling softly. “C’mon, Y/N. You really think I’d be mad about having a family with you?”
The words made your heart stutter, and you stared up at him, wide-eyed. “Bucky…”
“Let’s just see what they say, alright?” he murmured gently, stepping back and nodding toward the tests. “No more freaking out until we know.”
With trembling hands, you turned each test over, your breath hitching as you looked at the results.
Positive.
Positive.
Positive.
Bucky’s grin had barely faded before the reality of the situation seemed to really hit him this time. His gaze drifted back to the three tests lined up on the sink, and you watched as his face slowly drained of colour.
“Bucky?” you asked cautiously, noticing the way his grip on your arm loosened slightly.
He blinked, his eyes darting between you and the tests like he was trying to solve some impossible puzzle. “So, uh… positive. All three?”
You nodded slowly, worry beginning to creep back in. “Yeah, Buck. All three.”
“Oh… Oh, wow,” he muttered, his eyes widening. “That’s… that’s a lot of positive.”
“Bucky—”
“I mean, I knew one was a lot, but three—positives?” he rambled, swaying slightly on his feet. “That’s… that’s a whole lot of… baby.”
“Bucky, are you okay?” you asked, reaching out to steady him as his face turned even paler.
“I’m—yeah, I just—” He stopped mid-sentence, his eyes rolling back slightly as his knees buckled.
“Bucky!” you shouted, grabbing for him as he crumpled to the floor in a faint.
You managed to catch his weight just enough to keep him from completely knocking his head on the tiles, though it took every ounce of strength you had to keep him semi-upright.
“Are you freaking kidding me?” you huffed, looking down at his unconscious form with a mix of exasperation and disbelief. “You’re the one who said you’d be fine with this!”
He let out a soft, incoherent groan, his head lolling to the side as you carefully lowered him all the way to the ground and raised his legs above his head for bloodflow.
“Of course you’d faint, you big drama queen,” you muttered, crouching down beside him and lightly patting his cheeks. “Come on, Buck. Wake up. I’m not doing this alone, you hear me?”
After a few more pats and murmured reassurances, his eyelids fluttered open, and he blinked up at you, dazed and confused.
“Y/N?” he mumbled, his voice slurred. “What… what happened?”
“You fainted, you big idiot,” you said, the frustration in your tone softened by the overwhelming relief that he was okay. “Over three little tests.”
Bucky stared at you blankly, then his gaze drifted back to the sink where the tests still sat in a neat row, mocking him with their tiny positive signs.
“Oh… right,” he murmured, his face scrunching up as he tried to process it all again. “So it wasn’t a dream?”
“Nope.” You shook your head, giving him a half-smile. “Definitely not a dream.”
“Damn,” he breathed, a small, disbelieving laugh escaping him as he ran a hand through his hair. “I really fainted, huh?”
“Yeah, you did,” you replied, unable to keep the amusement out of your voice. “And you’re lucky I didn’t let you hit your head.”
He chuckled weakly, his gaze still lingering on the tests. Then, slowly, he reached up, his hand finding yours and squeezing gently.
“I love you, Y/N, you know that?” he mumbled, his voice soft and a little slurred as he still looked dazed. “Not like a friend, but y’know… like, love love.”
You blinked at him, surprised by the sudden confession. A laugh bubbled up in your throat, the ridiculousness of the situation hitting you all over again. “Bucky, you’re still out of it.”
“Yeah, probably,” he murmured, blinking up at you with a lopsided grin. “But doesn’t make it any less true.”
Shaking your head, you leaned down and pressed a kiss to his forehead, your smile softening. “I know, Buck. We’ll talk about that later when you’re not busy fainting over pregnancy tests, okay?”
“’Kay,” he mumbled, his eyelids drooping slightly. “But just… so you know.”
“I know,” you repeated gently, brushing a strand of hair away from his forehead. “Just rest for a second, and then we’ll figure this all out together.”
He nodded slowly, his eyes drifting shut for a moment before he opened them again, looking at you with a sleepy smile. “We’re really gonna be parents, huh?”
“Yeah,” you whispered, your heart swelling with affection. “We really are.”
“Cool,” he murmured, his head lolling back against the bathroom tiles. “Love you, Y/N… love love.”
You chuckled softly, shaking your head as you sat beside him, holding his hand. “Love you too, Bucky. Now, no more fainting, okay?”
“No promises,” he mumbled, but his grip tightened around your hand, as if even in his half-conscious state, he didn’t want to let go.
And as you sat there on the bathroom floor, Bucky still looking a little woozy but smiling up at you with that goofy, endearing grin, you couldn’t help but think that maybe — just maybe — everything was going to be just fine.
× × × ×
First Trimester.
The clock on the kitchen wall glowed a soft, accusatory 2:37 a.m. as Bucky shuffled groggily into the dimly lit space, scratching at his head. He was half-asleep, dressed in rumpled sweatpants and a t-shirt that had seen better days, and still trying to figure out why he’d been dragged from his warm bed.
He paused mid-step when he spotted you sitting at the kitchen table, your shoulders hunched, face buried in your hands. He blinked, his brain struggling to catch up with the situation. “Uh, sweetheart… what’s going on?”
Your only response was a pitiful sniffle, followed by another one. Bucky’s brows shot up in alarm, and he quickly moved to your side, crouching down in front of you.
“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” he asked softly, peering up at you with wide, concerned eyes. “Did something happen?”
You shook your head, letting out a small, hiccuping sob. “I… I really wanted… chocolate chip pancakes… with whipped cream and strawberries…”
Bucky blinked again, glancing around the empty kitchen as if he expected a stack of pancakes to magically appear on the counter. “Okay… uh… we don’t have any of that stuff right now, but I can go to the store—”
“Everything’s closed!” you wailed, cutting him off with a fresh wave of tears. “And I really wanted it now!”
The sheer devastation in your voice made Bucky’s heart clench in sympathy — but a very tiny, very unhelpful part of him also found it hilariously absurd. He had fought aliens, Hydra agents, and all manner of nightmares… but he’d never faced down a pregnant wife in the throes of a pancake craving at nearly 3 a.m.
“Oh,” he said lamely, scratching his head again as he tried to think of a solution that didn’t involve breaking into the nearest IHOP. “Okay, um… we can make pancakes without chocolate chips, right?”
“But I don’t want plain pancakes!” you cried, your voice wobbling dangerously. “I want chocolate chip pancakes! And… and I want whipped cream on top, but we don’t have any!”
Bucky swallowed, his panic rising as you continued to cry. He was the Winter Soldier, damn it. He could handle this. There had to be a way out of this. “Okay, alright. Just breathe, okay? How about… uh… what if I make you some toast? I’ll put some Nutella on it? It’s kind of like chocolate.”
“It’s not the same!” you sobbed, burying your face in your hands again. “I want… pancakes…”
Bucky let out a helpless laugh, running a hand down his face as he glanced at the empty fridge like it was somehow betraying him. “Baby, you’re killing me here.”
You sniffled, peeking out from between your fingers with watery eyes. “You don’t understand, Buck. I can taste the pancakes. I can taste the strawberries… I can feel the whipped cream…”
Bucky opened his mouth, then closed it again, at a complete loss for words. “Yeah, uh, I can’t pull that out of thin air. But…” He glanced around, his gaze falling on a tub of vanilla ice cream in the freezer. “What if I make you a sundae? It’s kinda like a pancake… just cold.”
“No…” You shook your head, another tear rolling down your cheek. “It’s not pancakes…”
Bucky let out a long, dramatic sigh, his hands resting on his knees. “Okay, okay. Here’s the deal. Tomorrow morning, I’m gonna wake up, and I’m going to go get you all the chocolate chips and whipped cream and strawberries you want, alright? I’ll make a pancake buffet.”
“But I want it now,” you murmured miserably, rubbing at your eyes.
“I know, sweetheart. I know,” he cooed gently, reaching out to pat your head awkwardly. “But unless you want me to bust into some diner and get myself arrested, I’m gonna need you to hang in there for a few more hours.”
Your lips trembled, and you nodded reluctantly, sniffling again. “I’m being ridiculous, aren’t I?”
Bucky smiled softly, his heart melting a little. “Nah. You’re growing a tiny human.” Then, with a mischievous glint in his eyes, he added, “Although, I gotta say, if I can handle your craving meltdowns, I think I deserve some kind of medal. Or at least, like… superhero husband status.”
A small, watery laugh escaped you despite yourself, and Bucky’s smile widened triumphantly.
“There she is,” he murmured, leaning up to press a kiss to your temple. “Look, we can’t have pancakes right now, but how about we get creative? Maybe I can whip something up with what we do have? I’m talking PB&J sandwich sculptures. Or,” he gasped dramatically, “a waffle made out of popcorn!”
Your eyebrows furrowed, but the corners of your mouth twitched. “Popcorn waffles?”
“Hey, don’t knock it ‘til you try it,” he said with an exaggeratedly serious expression. “This could be a revolutionary invention, Y/N. We could change the breakfast game forever.”
You couldn’t help but giggle, wiping at your tears as Bucky’s ridiculousness slowly chased away the lingering sadness. “You’re such a weirdo, you know that?”
“Yeah, but you married me,” he shot back, a grin spreading across his face. “So who’s the real weirdo?”
“Still you,” you teased softly, shaking your head.
Bucky let out a mock gasp, clutching his chest dramatically. “Wow, so rude. No respect for the man who’s about to go MacGyver your snack cravings at 3 a.m.”
You smiled despite yourself, reaching out to take his hand. “Thank you, Buck.”
“Anything for you, sweetheart,” he murmured, squeezing your hand gently. “Now, what do you say we get a little creative in this kitchen and see if we can’t make something that’ll make these pancake cravings shut up for a bit?”
“Okay,” you agreed, the warmth of his hand in yours grounding you. “But I’m holding you to that pancake buffet tomorrow morning.”
“Pancake buffet with extra chocolate chips, whipped cream, and strawberries,” he promised with a mock salute. “You’ve got my word.”
And as Bucky scoured the pantry for the weirdest possible combinations — “How do you feel about a peanut butter, banana, and potato chip sandwich?” — you couldn’t help but laugh, the weight of your cravings lightening in the face of his relentless optimism and willingness to do whatever it took to make you smile.
“World’s best husband,” you murmured fondly as he started arranging sandwich slices into a goofy face.
“Damn right,” he replied with a wink, holding up the plate proudly. “And this? This is my masterpiece.”
You took one look at the ridiculous sandwich sculpture — a lopsided smile made from pickle slices and a beard of crumbled crackers — and the tears came flooding back, but this time they were unstoppable.
“Bucky… you’re… you’re the best husband… in the world!” you sobbed, your shoulders shaking as you buried your face in your hands.
“Whoa, whoa, wait—hold on!” Bucky stammered, his eyes widening in alarm as he quickly set the plate down and moved back to your side. “What… why are you crying? Sweetheart, it’s just a sandwich! A really ugly sandwich, but—”
You let out another wail, shaking your head as more tears spilled over. “No, it’s not that! It’s you! You’re just so—so good, and sweet, and—and I don’t deserve you!”
Bucky froze, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.
“Wait, what? Where did that come from?” He rubbed the back of his neck, glancing around as if he expected someone to pop out with a manual for how to handle this. “Hey, you deserve everything, okay? Even pancakes at 3 a.m. if I could make it happen.”
“I just… you’re always trying so hard, and you’re just… you’re amazing,” you whimpered, reaching out to grab his hand like it was a lifeline. “And I’m crying because I can’t have pancakes, and I’m a mess, and you’re making me a weird pickle-beard sandwich…”
Bucky stared at you, completely lost, before he finally let out a helpless, incredulous laugh. “Okay, okay, I’m officially out of my depth here,” he muttered, gently pulling you into his arms and patting your back awkwardly. “But hey, let’s save the compliments for when I’m not half-asleep, yeah?”
You nodded miserably against his chest, your sobs starting to subside as his steady heartbeat grounded you.
“Good, because you’re gonna make me cry if you keep this up,” he joked softly, running a soothing hand through your hair. “And no one wants to see the Winter Soldier ugly-cry over a pancake buffet.”
You let out a watery giggle at that, sniffling as you pulled back to look up at him. “You’re really gonna get me all the pancakes tomorrow?”
“Every last one,” he promised, his smile gentle and reassuring. “Now come on, let’s see if we can make this popcorn waffle thing work. You’ll need to tell our kid one day that their mom ate the weirdest thing ever while pregnant,” Bucky finished with a grin, his hand sliding down to gently cup your cheek as he wiped away the lingering tears with his thumb. “That way, when they give us a hard time as teenagers, I can say, ‘Hey, kid, I made your mom a popcorn waffle at 3 a.m. She bettered have loved me.’”
You laughed again, hiccupping through the tears as you tried to calm yourself. “You’re crazy, you know that?”
Bucky shrugged, his lips twitching up into a lopsided smile. “Maybe. But you married me, so what does that say about you?”
“That I’m a glutton for punishment,” you teased softly, feeling some of the tension start to ease as his thumb continued its gentle, comforting strokes on your cheek.
“Or just smart enough to know when you’ve got a good thing,” he murmured back, leaning down to press a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead. “And I’m gonna keep being that good thing — even when it means making bizarre snacks and wrangling your tears at stupid o’clock in the morning.”
You let out a shaky breath, smiling up at him as you looped your arms around his neck. “I love you, Bucky.”
His eyes softened, his gaze locking onto yours as he leaned in to nuzzle his nose against yours. “I love you too, sweetheart. And we’re gonna figure out this whole craving thing. Even if it means starting a midnight pancake truck or something.”
The image of Bucky in an apron, serving pancakes from a food truck, was so ridiculous that you let out a genuine, hearty laugh. “A pancake truck?”
“Why not?” He smirked, his fingers playing with a lock of your hair. “I’d be the hottest pancake chef around. We’d have a line out the door.”
“Because everyone’s desperate for pancakes at three in the morning?” you asked, still smiling.
“Exactly,” he said with a mock-serious nod. “They’d be calling me the Pancake Soldier instead of the Winter Soldier.”
You couldn’t help but burst into laughter again, your earlier tears completely forgotten. “I swear, you’re impossible, Bucky Barnes.”
“Impossible and all yours,” he said with a wink, then glanced at the kitchen. “Now, how about we whip up some sort of Frankenstein snack to tide you over until the morning, huh?”
With another sniffle and a smile, you nodded. “Alright. But I’m still holding you to that pancake buffet.”
“Wouldn’t dream of backing out,” he promised, kissing your forehead again before guiding you to a chair. “You sit right here, and let Chef Barnes work his magic.”
You watched as Bucky moved around the kitchen, his clumsy efforts at ‘creative’ snack-making bringing a smile to your face despite the ridiculousness of it all. He muttered under his breath, concocting weird combinations — “What if we crush some pretzels on top?” — and talking to the food like it would reveal some hidden trick.
Eventually, he managed to cobble together another makeshift treat: a peanut butter, banana, and honey sandwich with a few random M&Ms sprinkled on top for good measure. It looked as chaotic as you felt, but the effort and love behind it made your heart swell.
You stared at the messy sandwich, your lips trembling again — but this time with a whole different set of emotions.
“Hey, no more tears,” Bucky said quickly, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “I’m running out of ideas here, babe.”
“I’m not crying,” you sniffed, reaching out to take a bite. “It’s just… you’re really, really sweet, and I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Bucky let out a soft chuckle, reaching over to give your knee a gentle squeeze. “Lucky for you, you’ll never have to find out. I’m not going anywhere, okay?”
“Okay,” you whispered, your heart feeling lighter than it had all night.
“Good.” He smiled, leaning back in his chair as he watched you take another bite. “Now eat up, because come morning, I’m getting up at dawn to get everything we need for that pancake buffet. You’re gonna be the happiest pancake-eating pregnant lady in the world.”
“And you’re gonna be the best pancake-making husband in the world,” you replied with a soft smile, warmth spreading through your chest.
“Damn right,” Bucky murmured, his voice filled with so much affection it made your heart skip a beat.
As you finished the bizarre snack and Bucky continued to ramble on about potential pancake flavors and topping combinations, you couldn’t help but feel overwhelmingly grateful.
Because, bizarre cravings and all, there was no one else you’d rather navigate the chaos with than him — your best friend, your partner, your ridiculous, wonderful Bucky Barnes.
× × × ×
Third Trimester
Bucky’s overprotectiveness had started out in small, endearing ways—like lingering in doorways or making sure you had an extra pillow at night. But as your pregnancy progressed, so did his paranoia, turning him into an almost comical shadow of your once-confident, battle-hardened husband.
It began with the shoelaces.
“Wait, wait, wait.” He practically skidded across the living room to kneel at your feet just as you were about to bend down to tie your sneakers. You straightened up, raising a brow, watching him fumble with the laces like it was a complex puzzle rather than a simple bow.
“Bucky, it’s just tying my shoes. I can do that,” you pointed out gently, but he shook his head fervently.
“Not risking it. What if you lose your balance?” His words were muffled as he double-knotted the laces, his shoulders hunched like he was shielding you from some invisible force.
“I’m not gonna lose my balance,” you murmured, amused. “I’ve been tying my own shoes for decades.”
“There’s a first for everything.” He tightened the bow a little too firmly, making you flinch. He winced in apology and adjusted it again, softer this time, before peering up at you with those intense blue eyes, a mix of worry and resolve. “Humor me, okay?”
You sighed, relenting with a small nod. “Okay. But just so you know, you’re not going to be doing this every single time.”
He grinned—victorious, as if you hadn’t noticed how he conveniently “lost” all your slip-ons just last week.
Then there was the laundry basket incident.
It happened when you were carrying a half-full basket of towels from the dryer. You’d barely made it halfway down the hall when Bucky materialized out of nowhere, intercepting you like you were carrying live explosives.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa—what do you think you’re doing?” His voice was all mock-seriousness, but there was genuine concern underlining it as he gently pried the basket from your hands.
“Laundry?” you deadpanned, trying to tug it back, but he held firm.
“Not anymore, you’re not.” He shot you a look that dared you to argue as he held the basket up high, well out of your reach. “You don’t need to be lugging this around.”
“It’s not even heavy!” you protested, exasperation seeping into your tone.
He scoffed. “Doesn’t matter. I’ll take it. Just point me to where you want it.”
Grumbling, you pointed down the hallway. “Our bedroom.”
“See?” he said with a self-satisfied smile, striding down the hall like he was conquering new territory. “No big deal.”
You had to fight back an eye roll. “You’re gonna be like this until the baby is born, aren’t you?”
“Probably,” he called over his shoulder, unashamed.
It didn’t stop there, of course. In the kitchen, he’d barely let you near the sink.
One morning, you’d decided to tackle the breakfast dishes—something you could usually manage without too much hassle. But as soon as you set the first dish into the soapy water, Bucky’s hand appeared out of nowhere, lightly shoving you to the side.
“Excuse me,” he muttered, though it was clear he wasn’t asking for permission. “Your belly’s gonna bump into the counter. Let me do it.”
“Bucky—”
“Let. Me. Do it,” he insisted, holding a soapy plate hostage as he gazed at you, lips set in a stubborn line.
With a sigh, you threw your hands up in surrender. “Fine. But I’m not a porcelain doll, okay? I can do dishes just fine.”
“Sure,” he replied, but he was already washing the dishes with focused precision, occasionally glancing at you to make sure you hadn’t slipped or stumbled in the two feet he’d moved you back.
It was both infuriating and endearing, and it made you love him even more—though you’d never admit it when he was acting like a hovering mother hen.
The grocery trips were almost unbearable. He’d insisted on coming along, despite your reassurances that you were perfectly capable of picking up a few items.
“We need milk,” you pointed out, motioning toward the far end of the aisle.
“Got it,” he said immediately, guiding the cart forward with one hand and slipping his other arm around your waist as if to support your entire body weight.
You shot him a look. “I can still walk, you know.”
“Of course you can,” he agreed with a grin. “I’m just… helping you waddle.”
“Waddle?” You narrowed your eyes, smacking his arm lightly. “Did you just call me a waddler?”
“Um…” He glanced at you sheepishly, realizing his mistake a second too late. “No?”
“Yeah, nice try.” You huffed, crossing your arms.
“Alright, alright, bad choice of words. I’m just keeping pace with you,” he corrected, slowing his stride even more so that the two of you were practically moving in slow motion down the aisle.
You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head at the ridiculousness of it all. “If we go any slower, we’ll start moving backwards.”
Bucky just chuckled, his arm tightening around you protectively. “I’ll take my chances.”
By the time you reached the milk, you were almost tempted to ask him to sprint the rest of the way just to get it over with. But the truth was, there was something undeniably sweet about having Bucky hover around like this.
“Let me guess,” you teased as you plucked a carton of milk off the shelf. “You want to carry this too?”
“Of course,” he said, already reaching for it, his expression deadly serious.
You held on to the carton just long enough to make him sweat before handing it over. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”
“Unbelievably in love with you,” he replied easily, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your temple.
“Smooth,” you muttered, your lips twitching into a reluctant smile.
With Bucky being his overprotective self, you had no doubt that he’d be like this for the next few months—and likely long after the baby was born. But as much as you complained, deep down, you knew you wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.
× × × ×
“Bucky, for the last time, it’s just a shoe box,” you emphasise, glancing at your husband as he carefully hoists the empty box off the couch like it’s made of glass.
“Doesn’t matter,” he mumbles, eyes darting suspiciously to the plain cardboard. “You shouldn’t be carrying anything in your condition.”
“Condition? Bucky, I’m pregnant, not broken.” You cross your arms, watching as he tucks the box under his arm like it’s a rare artefact. The man is a walking, talking fortress of muscle, but right now, his overprotectiveness is reaching absurd levels.
“And nearly at your due date,” he points out, placing the box on the counter with a sigh of relief as if he’s saved you from imminent danger. “I’ve read all the books. I know how this goes.”
You snort, shaking your head. “Oh, yeah? So what’s the worst that could happen if I pick up a shoe box?”
Bucky turns to you with a dead-serious expression.
“It’s not about the weight. It’s about…” he falters, eyes scanning your swollen belly, “…stability. Your centre of gravity is off right now. A box could trip you.”
“A box could trip me?” You arch a brow, incredulous. “Really?”
“Yes!” His tone is insistent, and you have to bite back a laugh. This is the same man who once told a pack of HYDRA agents they were outnumbered—just because it was him and Steve versus a dozen of them. But now, he’s reduced to eyeing an empty cardboard box like it’s a mortal enemy.
Sighing, you sit back on the couch, deciding it’s not worth the argument. Besides, there’s a certain charm in seeing the Winter Soldier so worked up over an inanimate object. You lean back, letting out a small groan as you shift your weight.
Bucky’s been hovering around you all day like a lost puppy, eyes following your every move. The moment you make the slightest sound, his head whips around, concern flickering in his eyes. So when you groan, immediately, he’s by your side, eyes wide, hands hovering over your belly.
“What? What’s wrong? Is it time? Should I get the bag?”
“Calm down, Dad-mode. I’m just stretching.” You roll your eyes, but you can’t hide the smile tugging at your lips. “You’ve gotta stop panicking every time I make a sound.”
“Every time you make a sound, it could be something serious!” Bucky exclaims, sounding almost affronted. “Do you know what it’s like hearing you groan and not knowing if it’s ‘I want ice cream’ or ‘I’m about to go into labor’?”
“Sounds like a personal problem,” you tease.
He huffs, muttering something about ‘pregnancy hormones,’ and kneels down in front of you. Strong hands lift your foot gently, and he starts massaging your arch. You sigh, instantly melting under his touch.
“Better?” His voice is softer now, concern etched in every syllable.
“Much better,” you mumble, letting out a little moan as he presses down on a particularly tight knot.
“Hey, hey, hey!” Bucky freezes, eyes wide again. “What’s that? Pain?”
“Relax,” you say, though your voice is slightly breathless. “It’s the good kind of pain. Keep going.”
You lean your head back, closing your eyes as Bucky continues the foot massage. The man has hands that could crush stone, but right now, he’s so gentle you almost feel like you’re floating. It’s hard not to feel a little spoiled under his doting care.
But just when you’re getting lost in the bliss of his hands working away the tension, you catch his face out of the corner of your eye. Bucky’s brow is furrowed, and his expression is one of fierce concentration, like he’s facing down a particularly difficult opponent. You stifle a giggle—only Bucky could make a foot massage seem like a high-stakes mission.
“Alright, alright, enough of that,” you say, reaching down to tug on his hand. “If you keep looking at my foot like that, you might set it on fire.”
Bucky blinks up at you, clearly having forgotten where he was. He chuckles, the sound low and almost shy. “Can’t help it. I just… I want to make sure I’m doing it right.”
“Bucky, it’s a foot massage, not defusing a bomb.” You roll your eyes again, but your heart swells at his concern. “You’re doing it perfectly.”
A faint blush colors his cheeks, but he lets out a small huff, pretending to be grumpy. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
Then, without warning, he shifts beside you on the couch, a determined look settling on his face. “Now, hold still.”
Before you can ask what he’s up to, Bucky leans down, pressing his ear gently against your belly. You’re about to ask him if he’s comfortable, but the sheer look of wonder on his face stops you short. His eyes close, and he inhales deeply, as if trying to capture every little movement your baby girl makes.
“Hey, there, sweetheart,” Bucky murmurs softly, his voice dropping to a gentle whisper. His fingers splay across your belly, his thumb tracing small, soothing circles. “It’s your dad. Just wanted to check in on you, make sure you’re being good for your mama.”
You bite your lip, warmth spreading through your chest at the sight. The fierce Winter Soldier, the man with a list of enemies longer than most people’s grocery lists, reduced to talking softly to your baby girl like she’s the most delicate thing in the world.
“She’s probably plotting her escape already,” you joke quietly, and Bucky grins up at you.
“Nah,” he says, eyes crinkling at the corners. “She’s too busy practicing her karate kicks. Isn’t that right, little one?”
Right on cue, a small flutter against your belly answers him, and Bucky’s eyes light up like fireworks. He leans down again, pressing his lips gently against the spot where your baby kicked.
“Whoa, easy there, sweetheart,” he murmurs, a playful smile tugging at his lips. “Save the punches for when you’re out here. We’ve got plenty of training sessions ahead of us.”
You snort, shaking your head at his words. “Bucky, she’s not even born yet, and you’re already planning training sessions?”
“Gotta start ‘em young,” he says seriously, but the way he softens his voice when he turns back to your belly is anything but tough. “But don’t worry, we’ll take it easy. I’ll make sure you get to be a kid and have fun first. No one’s gonna mess with you. Not when I’m around.”
He pauses, his eyes misting over for a brief moment, and you know he’s thinking about everything he’s been through—everything he wants to shield your daughter from. Slowly, he rubs his thumb along your belly again, his touch featherlight.
“And you’re gonna love your mama,” Bucky continues softly. “She’s strong, and she’s funny, and—” He glances up at you, his smile turning mischievous. “She’s a little bit stubborn sometimes. But you’re gonna be just like her, I bet.”
“Great,” you mutter, faking a groan. “Two of you plotting against me.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Bucky promises, but the glint in his eyes tells you he’s already imagining all the ways he’ll spoil his little girl.
He shifts again, his head still resting on your belly, and you have to stifle another laugh as he starts a running commentary, complete with exaggerated gestures.
“Okay, so here’s the plan,” he whispers conspiratorially to your baby. “When you get here, you’re gonna kick a lot. Cry a lot. But not too much. Your mama needs her sleep. Then, we’ll team up to get you extra dessert when she’s not looking.”
“Bucky!” You can’t help it—you burst out laughing. “You can’t be plotting behind my back already!”
He grins, looking up at you with mock innocence. “Hey, it’s not my fault if she wants ice cream. Right, sweetheart?”
A few more soft kicks seem to echo his words, and you can’t help but roll your eyes.
“I’m doomed,” you say, shaking your head fondly.
“No, you’re not,” Bucky murmurs, his voice softening again. He presses one more kiss against your belly before shifting to sit up beside you. He wraps an arm around your shoulders, tugging you gently against his side. “You’re gonna be the best mom. And I’m gonna be right here, making sure you both have everything you need.”
You lean into his warmth, smiling as his hand drifts back to your belly, tracing idle patterns.
“I love you,” you whisper, resting your head against his shoulder.
“And I love you,” he replies, voice deep and steady. He leans down, kissing the top of your head. “Both of you.”
With Bucky holding you close and whispering to your daughter, you feel your heart swell with a contentment so strong it almost aches. It’s moments like these that remind you just how lucky you are to have this overprotective, sweet man by your side.
Even if he does go overboard sometimes.
#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes imagines#winter soldier imagines#winter solider x reader#winter soldier x you#winter soldier x y/n#the winter soldier x reader#the winter soldier#winter soldier x female reader#winter soldier fanfiction#winter soldier fic#winter soldier fanfic#sebastian stan x reader#sebastian stan characters#sebastian stan x you#sebastian stan fanfiction#the winter solider x reader#the winter soldier x you#james barnes x you#james barnes x reader#james bucky barnes#james buchanan barnes#james barnes x y/n#james barnes
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i don’t know who i am without you | l.n.
synopsis: in which he can't function without you
my masterlist
Lando was a very simple human being.
He didn’t need many things in life to survive, or many people for that matter.
He had Max, he had Jon, the entire team at McLaren, his family, and then he had you.
The most important piece of the puzzle being you.
Lando didn’t know what it felt like being without you ever since you two got together. He didn’t know what it meant not to have a cooked meal anymore. What it felt like coming home to an empty apartment. He couldn’t even remember the feeling of being alone.
Thoughts of you consumed his mind every single minute of the day, no matter where he was and no matter what he was doing.
His friends would tease him for becoming such a simp, for being so consumed by his love for you.
But he didn’t care. He craved being with you, feeling your touch and just being around you.
And he made sure other people knew it too.
He never missed an opportunity to talk about you, even with the most random strangers he would meet in other countries where they would be racing. He didn’t really care who he was talking you, he would just make sure the person understood how important you were to him and how much he loved you.
Cisca and Adam were especially delighted when they met you, knowing that you had to be a pretty special girl for Lando to decide you were ready to meet his family.
Cisca had even told you on the night you had flown to the UK to have dinner with them.
“I’ve never seen him smile like this with anyone before, or speak about you like he does. He loves you with his entire heart, and I know you love him just as much. Please, take care of each other and never let each other go”
When you returned to the living room after speaking with her, smile wobbly and tears threatening to spill out of your eyes, Lando looked between you and his mother and smiled, sharing a knowing look with his mother.
I found the one.
He realized he was in big trouble once he started looking for you in every room he would enter, reaching out for your touch the first thing in the morning, searching for you every time he would get out of the car after each race.
You would be the one constant Lando couldn’t be without, no matter where he was. He had to travel all around the world for his races? You were flying with him. He had to fly back to the MTC? You were right there with him. He wanted to go skiing in Lapland? You were going with him.
He forgot what it was like to plan something just for himself and his friends, wanting you there with him no matter what he was doing.
You certainly weren’t complaining, you loved Lando with your entire heart and you loved that he wanted you there with him. You craved him just as much as he did you, craving the feeling of his hand in yours, of his kisses against your body, of his presence next to you.
You didn’t know how to explain it, but it felt like you could finally breathe whenever you were with him, like there was this imaginary rock sitting on your chest that only lifts when you two are together.
The world, and more importantly his fans, were the only ones that loved you more than Lando and his family did. You were very skeptical when Lando first suggested that you tell the world about your relationship on Instagram.
You had seen how fans usually reacted to their idols having girlfriends, which is why you were really apprehensive at first. But you couldn’t say no to him, especially when he would look at you like you hung the stars, whispering promises that no matter what, he would love you to death and fight with everyone in his comments if he had to. Anything just to see you smile with him.
Luckily for you, the fans absolutely adored the shit out of you. They would all but praise you in the comments of Lando’s post, following you and hyping you up whenever you posted anything, asking for you whenever Lando would go live on Twitch and basically ignoring him whenever you would decide to join him.
He couldn’t have asked for anything better, he didn’t think anything could be better than this.
However, the moment that cemented the belief that you were the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with and have a family was the day when he won his first Formula 1 race.
As always, you had joined him for the race, knowing he would be absolutely off his game if you even suggested staying back in Monaco.
You were the lucky charm he needed to perform, the only thing he needed to get through the weekend.
You’d told him that morning that you had a good feeling about the day despite his not so stellar results in qualifying and his premature end of the Sprint.
He hadn’t believed it, at least not for the first couple of laps of the race. But when he crossed the finish line in P1, he almost didn’t know what to say.
The moment he got out of the car and saw you standing behind the barriers, tears streaming down your face and your smile threatening to break your cheeks, he couldn’t help it. He sprinted towards you, lifting you over the barriers before hugging you tightly, burying his head in your neck while you squeezed him with your entire might.
“I’m so proud of you, baby. You deserve this so much” you whispered in his ear, the tears soaking up in his suit.
He didn’t say anything but only squeezed you tighter, his own tears falling down.
You guys didn’t know how long you stood there embraced, but you didn’t even want to know. It was only the two of you in that moment, soaking in the moment you had both been waiting for ever since you could remember.
And in that moment, stood there wrapped around each other, you realized that you could not imagine a life where you weren’t together.
Because you loved each other too much to let each other go.
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cherry wine - firefighter!rafe
* ✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩ ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚ ✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩ ₊˚ ⋅
summary: who knew career day would involve a hot sexy mustached firefighter wanting to take you on a date.
warnings: teacher!reader x firefighter!rafe, mutual pining, fluff, a little self doubt, lots of flirting, sexual innuendos, talk of sex but no smut
an: that pic is how I picture firefighter!rafe, I don’t think I need to elaborate any more. title will make more sense in the second part, hope you all enjoy!! & yes this will be a part 2 of the date hehehe. I did not proof read this so my bad
masterlist - part two
* ✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩ ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚ ✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩ ₊˚ ⋅
This day could not end sooner. I had been the most chaotic day trying to consistently wrangle a bunch of nine year olds. It was the third grade’s career day at the school you taught at.
The day has been filled with moving from station to station and learning about new careers. Some were a little more interesting than others. It was hard to get the kids to leave the lizard wrangler but they didn’t care much for the optometrist.
Some of the lovely volunteers were kind enough to provide treats for the kids which only made their energy sky rocket. It was your first year teaching and even though you felt confident in your abilities to handle the kids you still tripped up a bit. A kid scraped his knee running from the hair stylist to the park ranger. You were a bit busy untangling a brush out another students hair to tell him not to run. It had been a lot.
Now it was nearing closer to the bell ringing and your weekend starting. You were definitely going to need a drink after today. Career day led up to the fire department coming and showing the kids every tool, button, and switch on their trucks. It would give you and your fellow teachers some time to relax as they all sat around the parking lot waiting for them to arrive.
“You survive today?” Martha asked as she stood next to you. The two of you started at this school together, both being first time teachers. That alone strengthened the immediate bond you had with the curly haired woman.
You let out a tired laugh, “Barely, you?”
She nodded, “Barely.”
You looked around briefly to make sure students weren’t listening to you two, “Winnie’s tonight?”
She grinned happily, “Thought you’d never ask. I could use a drink or ten.”
“Agreed.” You nodded.
That’s when you all spotted the two trucks approaching. The kids started to cheer and scream as they honked.
Martha leaned in to murmur, “At least we get to end the day with hot men with mustaches.”
That’s when it hit you. You hadn’t even thought about that all day. Now your hair was a mess and your light makeup all practically gone.
“I didn’t even think about that. I look like a mess,” You muttered.
“Oh please you look good. Even after wrangling twenty five children all day.”
You nudged her with a grin. The trucks parked in front of the students and the firefighters began filing out. The principal stood in front introducing them and what they were going to do.
Martha was right. Hot fireman indeed. There were six guys and they all began introducing themselves. You tried your hardest to pay attention to each one and watch your kids, but it was hard when one particular firefighter stood out.
He looked younger than the rest with his bleached hair and untrimmed mustache. His biceps bulged in his navy tee shirt as he crossed his arms over his chest. He looked so big and broad you wanted to melt. His eyes scanned the crowd as the guy next to him began introducing himself. That’s when his eyes passed you and did a double take. At least that’s what you hoped that was. He made eye contact with you and a small smirk began forming on his lips. Not looking away as your face began to heat up from his stare.
You looked away briefly as your nerves bubbled. When you looked back he was still looking at you and that smirk had gotten wider. Even when it was his turn to introduce himself he didn’t look away.
“Hi everyone I’m Rafe, I’ve been a firefighter for three years now. I also help train the new fire dogs to be able to help us out when we need them,” He finished giving the crowd a big smile. He finally looked away from you as he rubbed his mustache.
-
The presentation was supposed to be and hour but it somehow felt like five minutes. Probably because you couldn’t look away from someone in particular. He was just so handsome. The way his back muscles tightened and arms bulged as he picked things up had you feeling butterflies in places you didn’t know were possible.
This was not like you to get so dumbstruck by a man. You should know better that attractive fireman should not be trusted. But damn was he good to look at.
Rafe was grateful that he had decided to sign up to volunteer for career day at the schools. He liked seeing how excited kids got at their job so he was doing it solely for that. He didn’t expect to lay eyes on the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. At first he thought the teachers were all going to be his mom’s age older, but nope. He had been very wrong.
As him and the guys went through their presentation he couldn’t help but glance over at her any chance he got.
Even the mom’s who arrived early to get a glimpse of them weren’t enough to distract him. Even after first setting his eyes on her he knew he was going to do everything in his power to talk to her.
-
The firefighters stayed until all the kids had been picked up so they didn’t get stuck in the after school traffic. Rafe was thankful they didn’t get a call either or else he would have missed his chance. He looked over to where you were waving goodbye to your last student of the day and saw his open window.
He pat Javier on the back leaving him to wind up the hose himself, “Be right back.”
He stood up with a furrowed brow, “Of course Cameron.” He muttered as he said the blonde stride over to the pretty teacher.
You were texting Martha as you began walking to your class to see if she was already at Winnies. She had gotten out earlier as all her students were picked up already. You didn’t notice the broad man that approached you.
“Hi, can I walk you back to your class?” You looked up slightly startled.
Were you hallucinating because of the heat? Why was this big tall handsome stranger talking to you? You looked around to see if he was talking to someone else.
“Me?” You pointed at yourself with a questioning look.
His smirk widened, “Yeah, it’s really dangerous out here to be walking alone.” He teased.
You laughed, “Right um yeah sure.”
“Lead the way,” He said as he put his hands in his pockets.
“Your guys presentation was really good, the kids loved it. I already know they’re not going to shut up about it next week,” You laughed brushing hair behind your ear. You felt like a teenager again with a crush.
He smiled, “Thanks. Hopefully inspired some future firefighters. I’ve been doing it for a couple years now, is this your first year teaching?”
You were surprised he even thought about that, “Yeah actually it is.”
“I knew I’d remember that face if I’d seen you before,” Rafe wasn’t one to hold back with his flirting. When he knew what he wanted he would do anything in his power to get it. His career choice definitely helps him out a bit.
You coughed a surprised laugh, “Oh I- uh this is me,” you stuttered out as you got to your classroom. You weren’t used to men being so forward. They usually danced around compliments like they wanted you to work for it before earning one.
He opened the door for you, “I’m Rafe by the way,” He held his big hand out for you to shake. He took your much smaller hand in his as you told him your name. The heat of having his attention never leaving your cheeks.
“Are you doing anything tonight? I’d love to see you outside of work,” He leaned against the door casually. As he folded his arms over his chest they looked even bigger. You’re surprised there’s no drool dripping down your chin.
“No uh well yes I am, I’m meeting my friend Martha. She was standing next to me during the assembly. We’re going to Winnie’s if you’d like to join. Or not it’s fine if you don’t and you changed your mind or something,” You cleared your throat as you finished rambling.
That smirk turning into a wide grin, “I’ll see you there. Maybe I’ll bring one of the guys with me.”
She nodded with a smile, “That’d be great, I’m sure Martha would appreciate that.”
“I’ll see you then,” He winked subtly and walked back out. That smug grin still on his face.
-
“You are the bestest friend I’ve ever had!” Martha exclaimed as you finished telling her about your conversation with the hot firefighter.
You laughed, “I didn’t even do anything, god he’s so hot I hope I don’t embarrass myself.” You looked back at the entrance to the bar to see if he was here yet.
“You won’t. He probably loves the whole cute young elementary teacher thing,” Marth said as she took a sip of her cocktail.
“I don’t wanna be that though. I want to be a hot sexy woman,” You sighed dramatically.
When you got to winnies you spent about 10 minutes in your car fixing your smudged makeup and messy hair. You really wished career day didn’t put you through the ringer. You even changed into a random top that was in the backseat because the tee shirt you were wearing wasn’t doing you justice.
It had been almost an hour and they still hadn’t shown up. You had begun to feel disappointed that maybe he was just all talk. Maybe he did that to every new teacher at the schools he went to. But to save yourself the self pity you thought maybe he got a call and had to work. That was the most reasonable explanation. At least that’s what you told yourself.
“They probably got busy. Saving lives or something,” Martha waved off as she finished her second drink. You were also currently on your second and your feet were feeling fuzzy so you were cutting yourself off. You’d probably end up going home after the buzz wore off.
You tried not to show how disappointment flowed through you, “Yeah probably. Guess it was too go-“ you cut yourself off as you saw the door open and a head of bleach blonde hair came through. Your eyes widened and look away quickly.
“Ohmygod he’s here,” you mumbled to Martha. He hasn’t seen you yet.
She smiled, “Is the friend hot?”
You looked over and that’s when you met his eye. Rafe was already looking at you. He smirked and began walking over with a guy to a similar build as him walked behind him.
“Yes and they’re coming,” You said quickly as you cleared your throat.
“Hello ladies,” Rafe smirked as he approached.
You smiled softly, “Hey,”
Rafe thought you were pretty before but now in this setting you looked unreal. He was so glad he signed up for career day.
“This is Josh,” He nodded towards the brunette next to him.
You smiled politely at him, “Hi Josh. I’m y/n and this is Martha,” You looked over at her, “Martha, Rafe.”
They greeted each other as the guys sat down. Having Rafe so close to you was making you a bit dizzy. The alcohol wasn’t helping that either.
“What are you drinking?” Rafe asked you nodding towards your drink.
“Oh I was having gin and pineapple juice but I think I’m done for the night,” You admitted sheepishly.
He smiled teasingly, “Well wish I could have made it earlier to actually have that drink with you.”
You thought about it for a minute, “I guess I could have one more with you. I’ll have whatever you’re having.”
“You sure about that? You’re okay with just straight tequila shots?”
Your eyes widened muttering, “Geez maybe you will be drinking alone.”
He laughed, “In that case I guess we’ll just have a beer?” He said more as a question wanting to make sure that was okay with you.
You pretended to think for a minute humming, “Hmmm fine with me. Except no IPA’s,” you said making a face
“Yes ma’am,” He nodded getting up from the high table.
Across from you Josh was getting Martha’s drink order and you could already tell he liked her. The way he leaned in as if he couldn’t hear her despite the bar not being loud yet. You looked over at the bar where Rafe stood waiting for a bartender. He looked so good leaning over the bar. The muscles of his back flexing under the navy shirt. You couldn’t be more grateful for career day.
-
Rafe was oh so screwed. He was liking this third grade teacher a little too much. He had never felt so attracted to someone. Not just physically. He loved how animated you were when you talked, always using your hands. The passion in your eyes when you spoke about your class was admirable.
It was a done deal that you weren’t going to just be a hook up. No way would Rafe think about letting you out of his grasp. You were so soft and sweet, he can already imagine just how sweet you taste.
He knew it wasn’t one sided either. He saw the way you watched him as he told childhood stories and how he became a firefighter. You didn’t look at him like some hero the way most women did but you looked at him like you were proud of him. It made this weird feeling in his chest bloom. But he loved that look in your eye.
Whatever dance you two had been playing the last hour was starting to wear him thin. He wanted to touch you. Not even in a sexual way but he wanted to tuck that piece of hair behind your ear or give your thigh a reassuring squeeze every time you thought you were rambling. Rafe wanted to hear you go on and on about everything.
Throughout the night your chairs had slowly started to scoot closer to each other. Then your arms started brushing each other. Even the small contact set his skin on fire. The need in his bones growing.
You would dare to move a muscle once your skin touched he was so warm and as you looked over his bicep was just beghing to be bitten. The alcohol was helping your brain wander to that place you only visited at night alone in your bed.
As was telling a story about his vacation in Italy your eyes couldn’t help but wander back over to those biceps that had you drooling when you first saw him. He had his arms crossed over the table. Muscles flexing as he picked up his beer bottle and took a sip. The way his neck moved as he swallowed had you clenching your thighs. You wondered what his skin would taste like. You also wanted to know what it’d feel like to be wrapped in those biceps as he held you up while pou-
“You good?” Rafe asked lowering his head to your gaze. A teasing smirk on his lips.
Your doe eyes looked up at him, “Uh huh.” Way to play it cool.
He chuckled, “What were you thinking about?” You hadn’t noticed that Martha and Josh had gotten up and walked over to the dart board across the bar. Now leaving the two of you alone. The bar had gotten more crowded now and
You shook your head fighting the heat creeping up your spine, “Nothing really.”
“Yeah?” He leaned in closer, “I bet we were thinking about the same thing.”
You swallowed hard trying to use as much of that liquid courage as possible, “Then tell me what you’re thinking and I’ll let you know if you’re right.”
He liked that playful look in your eye, “Well I was thinking about soft your thighs would feel on my cheeks.”
Your eyes widened. Maybe you really weren’t expecting him to be honest. But that truth had you fidget in your seat as that warm feeling in your stomach blossomed.
“I guess we were then,” You hum.
“Mhmm,” He leaned in to whisper in your ear, “And what should we do about that sweetheart?”
“I-I” And just like that you had lost your cool. This insanely attractive, funny, smart guy wanted to get into your pants. Hot guys with all those personality traits come once in a blue moon and you were fumbling.
He laughed raising a hand to your shoulder brushing your hair back. His fingertips grazing your exposed collarbone. The light touch making goosebumps rise on your skin. You wanted to lean into his touch but before you could he pulled away, “Let me take you out. Just you and me.”
“Really?” You were a bit dumbfounded. It’s not like you thought he was going to be a bad guy but a part of you had prepared for a one time hook up kind of guy. Which you didn’t mind at first because well it had been almost a year since anyone has met your needs. You weren’t going to turn down sex with a hot firefighter so you’re definitely not turning down a date with one. But you couldn’t help but be curious as to why.
He nodded, “Of course. You’re beautiful, sweet, funny, smart, passionate. I really could go on but I’ll save that for our date.”
You huffed out an amused laugh, “Okay yeah I’d love to go on a date. Assuming this doesn’t count?”
He shook his head with a frown, “I’d never do this for a first date, especially not for someone like you. I’ll treat you right y/n don’t you worry.”
That heat was back again, “You say this to all the women you meet at on career day?”
He smirked, “Just the ones I can’t stop thinking about. Which has only happened with you.”
His reassurances ignited something in you. The feeling of being wanted was something you hadn’t felt in a while and you really liked it. You really liked who was making you feel wanted.
“So how would you treat me Rafe?”
God. He loved the sound of his name coming out of your mouth. He wanted to hear you say it in so many scenarios. Specifically ones where you’re naked.
His knee bumped hers under the table, “I’ll pick you up tomorrow at six and show you exactly what I’d do.”
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