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#that makes me think that they would EVER fall apart. they are IT for each other and it's written/portrayed EXCELLENTLY
5sospenguinqueen · 8 hours
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Suck My Balls - Kevin Magnussen x Mercedes! Reader
Summary: When you and Kevin collide on track, fans half-expect you to start attacking each other. That’s not… quite how it ends.
Warnings: 18+ after the cut. Male oral. Enemies to lovers. Not an original title but how could I call it anything else 
Requested: No, which makes it worse lol
F1 Masterlist
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yn_ln just posted
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liked by georgerussell63, hulkhulkenberg and others 
yn_ln starting p3 tomorrow, looking forward to going racing. in a position to push for a podium
2,044 comments
mercedesamgf1 that’s our girl! looking forward to a masterclass of overtaking 
georgerussell63 flaunting the gear, are we? yet you make fun of me when i post the tommy
→ yn_ln “flaunting the gear” and “post the tommy” this is why twitter say you have 0 aura
→ georgerussell63 @/mercedesamgf1 she’s being mean again 
→ user i love the 2019 rookies in merc
charles_leclerc you couldn't have gone a little slower and let me on the second row instead? 
→ yn_ln it’s against my contract to help pretty boys 
→ danielricciardo is that why you gave max a tow?
→ maxverstappen1 that was an accident! 
user she’s such a great starter. i bet she ends up leading by the second lap at least 
user yn podium incoming
→ user i think you mean yn win incoming 
→ alex_albon i can feel it in my bones 
→ yn_ln thank you my #1 fan
→ georgerussell63 so you steal my aura and my alex? 
user it’s a shame that yn’s time knocked nico into p11
→ user it's okay because haasband kevin magnussen will be committing war crimes to defend him 
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f1 posted a new story
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18+
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A throaty groan filled the room as nimble fingers tugged harshly on cropped blond strands. In response, his lips sucked on the pulse point below your ear. Kevin chuckled against your skin when your hips rolled eagerly against him.
“You’re not supposed to be enjoying this,” you spat, shoving him away from you.
“Skat, I have my thigh between your legs. There’s no way for me to not enjoy this.”
You rolled your eyes at the smug grin on his face, pushing him until the back of his knees hit the edge of the hotel bed. He let himself fall backwards with a soft thud. Tucking an arm behind his head, he watched your eyes track the flex of his bicep with a smug smirk.
“Don’t be an asshole. Or I stop.”
“Now that would be more disappointing than the DNF.” His words trailed off as he choked on his own breath. The palm of your hand pressing down harshly on the bulge in his jeans. “Fucking hell.” He groaned, throwing his head back.
“Do you really want to piss me off right now?”
Kevin lifted his head, blue eyes darkened and pink lips apart, breathing heavily. Your hand moved to the top of his jeans, popping open the button and revealing a glimpse of grey boxers. A dark spot had formed where his tip sat.
“Desperate, are we?”
“Do you ever shut up?” Kevin groaned, pink staining his cheeks.
“Only when my mouth’s full.”
“Then I suggest you get on with it.”
He lifted his hips, helping you to pull the denim down his thighs, giving up once they’d reached his knees. He watched eagerly, holding his breath as your fingertips reached for the waistband of his boxers. He squirmed when your fingers skimmed his stomach. His boxers are pulled down, freeing his cock. It slaps against his stomach, thick and heavy. The cool air paired with the way you’re looking at him sends goosebumps rippling across his thighs.
A stuttered breath left his lips when your hand wrapped around him. Slowly working him, you sink to your knees between his legs. Your hair tickles his thighs when you lean down to press a kiss to the bottom of his stomach.
“Don’t be such a tease,” he hissed.
You ignored him, trailing open-mouthed kisses down his thigh all whilst your hand pumped him. Your tongue licked a stripe up his balls, enjoying the way his body jolted beneath you.
“Fuck,” he grunted when you took his balls in your mouth, sucking slightly. You chuckled against him, sending vibrations through his balls. “Oh, shit.”
Your tongue trailed a line from his balls, up the underside of his shaft before wrapping your lips around his tip. Looking up, your eyes connected with his just as you sucked. Enjoying the way his head tipped back, you took more of him into your mouth before pulling back up. His hips bucked up, chasing your lips. Hollowing your cheeks, you bobbed up and down. His abs clenched when your tongue traced his slit, and you were rewarded with a throaty groan from Kevin. His hand reached for the back of your head, tangling in your hair. He hesitated for a moment, waiting for you to pull back. Pulling back up, your lips sucked gently on the head of his cock.
“You’re so beautiful.” Kevin whispered, pushing a strand of hair back from your face.
Using his hold on your hair, he pushed your head down further. His cock hit the back of your throat, and you gagged slightly. Your hand continued to pump what you couldn't reach with your mouth. Allowing Kevin to control the pace, you relaxed your jaw, taking more of him in when he pushed you down again.
“Shit, you’re so good at that. I’m so close.”
Encouraged, you suck harder, hand reaching down to cup his balls. With a slight squeeze, you let Kevin push your head down once more as he releases with a loud curse. Thick white ropes of cum paint your tongue, leaking from the side of your mouth.
“Oh, god. Oh, fuck. So good.” Kevin whimpered, sensitive as your mouth slid off him.
Hair dishevelled, cheeks pink, mouth wide open, looking spent and satisfied. You decided you could get used to this sight of Kevin.
“I told you that you’d like that.”
Before you could laugh at your own joke, you felt the world spin and your back landed on the white sheets. An involuntary wince escaped you, body bruised from your earlier crash. Kevin immediately scrambled back, off your body.
“Fuck, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I forgot- and it’s my fault-“
Your arms reached out for him, yanking until he lost his balance, almost collapsing atop you. His arms fell beside your head, bracing him.
“Shut up. You’re not here to be nice. If I wanted nice, I’d have asked your teammate.”
“He couldn’t fuck you like I can.”
“Prove it.”
And, as Kevin reached down to yank your leggings away, a darkness in his eyes, you knew he would.
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yn_ln just posted
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liked by kevinmagnussen, francisca.cgomes and others 
yn_ln it’s a shame some people don’t have better reaction times but the main take away from this weekend is that i’m okay. a little bruised and a lot disappointed. now for a little girly self care 
2,750 comments
landonorris oh god, my eyes (puke)
georgerussell63 blimey, warn a man first. not what i wanted to see 
→ yn_ln "blimey?" do you need to calm your nerves with a spot of tea?
alex_albon treat yourself, girly 
user i love how the 2019 rookies are together
→ user alex being the only supportive one
mercedesamgf1 we’ll see you on that top step soon enough, yn 
user not k mag liking this post whilst she shades him in the caption
→ user can you blame him. she’s thirst trapping
→ user he probably saw people on twitter talking about it and came to drool 
user being a passenger princess is the ultimate form of self care
alexandrasaintmleux loving the aesthetic 
→ user even the man?
→ alexandrasaintmleux especially 
charles_leclerc is the bath a good place to cry?
→ yn_ln yes
→ charles_leclerc can you show me how to make one like that?
→ yn_ln also yes. on my way 
lilymhe okay, i see you. treating yourself in more ways than one
→ yn_ln it definitely was more than one way 
→ landonorris filth!
user why aren’t more people freaking out about the fact that there is clearly a man touching her???
→ user thank you! like who is he? is this a soft launch or just miss thing flaunting the fact that she probably got railed after the grand prix
user anyone else think that tattoo looks a lot like kevin’s?
(picture 3 has been deleted) 
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Requests are open
No tags because this is smut and I don't know if all of you are comfortable with that :)
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albertasunrise · 2 days
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Work Wife - Two
Masterlist
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Summary: Working as a Secretary and Miller & Sons c”Construction, you fall hopelessly in love with the eldest son Joel. What you don’t realise is that Joel’s completely in love with you too. What will it take for the two of you to realise whats’s right in front of you?
Pairing: Young Joel Miller x Reader
Warnings: Like AO3, I choose not to give any so the plot isn’t spoiled. This fic is 18+ (So here’s the first chapter as promised! I hope you all enjoy. Let me know what y’all think ♥️… I wrote half of this on my iPad so sorry for mistakes 😅)
Series Masterlist - One
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After two days of you being frosty towards Joel and Joel desperately trying to make up for whatever he had done to upset you, you decided that it was pointless to be upset with him. He hadn't known your reasoning for going to his house so the fact he had a girl there wasn't really a valid reason to be angry at him.
If you were being honest you were more angry at yourself. Your pride had been wounded and that was something that you needed to work through on your own. So by Wednesday, you were somewhat back to being smiley and sweet but there was still a tension there that you knew would take time to dissipate. You just hoped that your date with Simon would take your mind off what had happened.
Your second date with Simon went even better than the first. He was sweet, taking you to a restaurant he remembered you mentioning you loved, and after, he took you for a few drinks at a new gin bar that had opened up. So inevitably, two dates turned into three.
It felt like with each interaction you shared with Simon, the less seeing Joel every day, and knowing that he didn't return your feelings, hurt you. What you didn't realise was that your budding new relationship with Simon was tearing Joel apart. Simon couldn't help but gush to the other contractors about how special you were or how amazingly things were going.
How he was starting to think that you might be the one.
That statement made Joel want to find a remote canyon so that he could lob Simon into it. Yet he knew he had no right to feel jealous. It's not like he'd ever had the guts to go for it. It was his own fault that he was suffering now. Yet that didn't make him hate Simon any less. What he hated more was you talking to him about the dates that his 'so-called' friend was taking you on.
It was killing him.
"Oh Joel, you would have loved the walk Simon and I went on over the weekend." You gushed as you sipped at your coffee "I would show you some pictures but I'm still waiting for them to come back from the developers so…"
"That's fine." Joel replied, trying to keep his tone from sounding as pained as he felt.
"Perhaps you could take Eliza there sometime." You continued, completely oblivious to his torment "It's so romantic and-"
"Eliza and I are just casual." Joel interrupted and you couldn't help but snort.
"Please." You rasped "She's practically living with you now. Fuck buddies don't spend most nights together."
"We're just hanging out."
"And I'm the Queen of England." You rolled your eyes and how oblivious he was to what was going on straight in front of him "If you're just looking for casual then perhaps you need to tell her that."
"I did! I have…" He argued, his hip cocking to one side as he rested his on it.
"Well, perhaps you need to have that conversation with her again because from an outsider's point of view. You and her seem pretty serious."
Joel's stomach twisted at the thought that he was leading Eliza on. She was sweet and he liked her but he wasn't looking to settle down. Not yet.
"Talk to her Joel." you said sweetly as you placed your hand on his "Don't lead her on."
So talk to her he did.
Eliza was in the kitchen when he returned that evening. There was already a tense atmosphere hanging over the house as he entered but he didn't have time to ponder why. Not when he needed to get things out in the open.
"Hey." He said gingerly as he stepped into the kitchen and Eliza turned to greet him.
"You're back late." She stated as she placed a plate of food down in front of him before sitting on the chair across from him, her arms crossed.
"Meeting with the wood supplier ran late." He replied and Eliza nodded.
"Eat up." She said, watching him then as he nervously pushed his food around his plate, little appetite when he had an anvil hanging over his head.
"What's the matter with you this evening?"
"I don't think we should do this anymore?" He stated simply, eyes drifting from his plate to Eliza.
"Can I ask why?"
"When we started 'this' up, I told you that I wasn't looking for anything serious and well… it's been brought to my attention that it kinda has and that I need to be honest with you… Make sure I'm not stringing you along."
"And who said that you are?" She demanded and Joel shook his head.
"It doesn't matter… what matters is that I don't want to-"
"Was Pip wasn't it?" Eliza growled "You know she has feelings for you right? Only reason she's seeing shit that's not there."
"Eliza… Pip, doesn't have feelings for me. This is just about us and I-"
"You really are blind aren't you." Eliza cackled and Joel stopped in his tracks.
"Blind to what?"
"Pip is head over heels for you… She told me so herself back when we went for those work drinks and I-"
"She told you that?" Joel interrupted and Eliza huffed before nodding "She told you she was in love with me?"
"Well, her exact words were that she was crazy about you but she knew you didn't feel the same and so she's never told you." Eliza waved off the statement like she wasn't telling Joel everything he'd ever wanted to hear.
Were you crazy about him?
"Look, I told you that I didn't want anything serious either and I still don't." Eliza stated as she shrugged "If this has gotten a little too cosy then we can cool it."
Joel wasn't really sure what to say. The information that you possibly feel the same way for him is running laps around his head.
"Joel?"
"Right… yeah… sorry." He said and he shook his head and returned to reality "Look I still think it's best that we just call it quits." He stated plainly, wincing at the growl it pulled from Eliza.
"Fine." She practically spat at him, getting up abruptly and grabbing her stuff as she went "I'll see myself out."
Joel didn't even get a chance to speak before she was slamming the door behind her. Leaving him to ponder over the events that had just transpired. What should he do?
Should he talk to you about it?
Is that what you had come here to talk to him about all those weeks ago?
It would explain your reaction to Eliza being there.
He knew he couldn't, not, talk to you about this. He needed to know whether or not you still felt something for him, because if you did he wanted to fight for you. For with you, he wanted something real.
Months went by before Joel plucked up the courage to talk to you. Each time he decided it was time, he talked himself out of it. Whether it was a story that you or Simon had told him about your latest adventures as the world's most perfect couple or just him watching the two of you together. But, finally, he had decided that enough was enough… He needed to be honest with you and lay his cards out on the table. He had thought long and hard about what it was he wanted to say and so had arranged for the two of you to meet up for a coffee on Saturday. This wasn't a conversation that he wanted to have with you in the office.
He still had to labour through an afternoon of Simon gushing to the guys about how things were going with the two of you and up until now it had been fairly easy to drone it out.
"So you two finally did the deed huh?" Piped up a voice, grabbing Joel's attention.
Joel had known that you and Simon hadn't been intimate yet. You had confided in him about how you had never been with anyone and that you wanted to save yourself for the right guy. Obviously, you had decided that Simon was that guy.
"Fuck did we." Simon practically growled "Was so worth the wait… Girl's so hot… we-"
"Let's not discuss such personal matters at work, hey chaps?" Joel tried to sound calm but his stomach was twisting in knots.
The knowledge that you and Simon had been intimate was tearing him up inside. Had Eliza been wrong about your feelings for him? Had she lied? Either way, he wasn't sure what to do with the knowledge that you and Simon were now sleeping together.
"Come on boss…" Teased Rick, one of Joel's youngest employees "Just 'cus ya jealous."
"What?" Joel growled as he turned to face the younger man.
"Well, the guys all told me how you're sweet on Si's girl. It's not his fault you missed your shot."
Joel felt his anger start to boil over as he said "Keep it professional Rick or you'll be looking for new employment." Walking away then to cool down.
You were just clearing the dishes away whilst Simon wiped down the sides, always the gentleman. 8 months had shot by in the blink of an eye and it felt like he'd blended so perfectly into your home life. It was like the two of you had always done this. Things were so seamless.
"So Joel threatened to fire Rick today." He stated as he wiped his hands dry with a dishcloth.
"Really?" You asked and your brows shot up in surprise "Why?"
"We were talking about you and me and Rick kinda ribbed Joel a bit." Simon replied, shrugging.
"Ribbed him how?"
"We were just talking about how you and I had… well you know and Joel got pissed. Rick kinda teased him about how he's sweet on you and how he missed out on his chance with you."
"One, I'd rather you didn't discuss our sex life with my colleagues… Two, Joel's not sweet on me he's with Eliza and three… even if he was, that's a pretty dickish thing to do." You admonished and Simon chuckled as he replied.
"Joel is still very much sweet on you and he and Eliza broke up."
"What?" You were shocked to learn this information and hurt that Joel hadn't told you.
"Yeah, been like 6 or 7 months now… guys probably got blue balls." Simon chuckled as he tossed the dishcloth in his hands onto the counter.
You'd always talked about everything Joel and so to learn that he had broken things off with Eliza and he hadn't talked to you about it stung a little. Had things between you really become that strained? They hadn't been the same since you'd gone to his house to talk to him about how you felt. They certainly hadn't been since you had started dating Simon.
"You're not sweet on him are you?" Asked Simon, pulling you from your thoughts.
"Hmm?" You hummed as you looked at your boyfriend who was watching you closely, analysing every expression that crossed your face.
"Joel, you aren't sweet on him too are you?"
The colour drained from your face as your mouth moved to answer him but no words left your lips. The longer you took to respond, the more frustrated Simon grew.
"You are, aren't you?"
"Simon…"
"No, don't try and spin me any bullshit." He growled out and you flinched at his tone "Are you in love with Joel… Yes or no?"
"Yes… but-"
"I need to leave." Simon choked as he threw his hands up when you tried to reach for him "I can't be around you right now."
"Simon please…" You pleaded but he was having none of it.
He just grabbed his stuff and left.
Leaving you sobbing in his wake. \
You sat in the cafe you and Joel had arranged to meet at, your eyes red raw from crying all night and most of this morning. You were sipping on an overly sweet latte. Needing the sugar to try and boost your mood. Joel was already ten minutes late but that wasn't unusual for them man. No doubt he'd be stumbling through the cafe doors in a few moments, huffing and puffing whilst he rambled on about what it was that had delayed him.
Only after half an hour… he still wasn't there.
You were on your second sugary coffee and coming to the painful realisation that Joel had stood you up. Who gets stood up by their best friend? Well, it would seem that you do and you wondered if it was because of what Simon had told you yesterday. How Rick had teased Joel about missing out with you when he'd learned you'd lost your virginity to the man you'd been going steady with for almost 9 months. That thought made you go from sad to plain pissed.
Was he seriously going to stand you up because he was jealous that you had slept with Simon?
Finishing your coffee you stomped out the door and towards your car. You weren't going to let him get away with this. Not after everything you had been through in the last 12 hours.
You don't recall the drive to Joel's house but you feel your anger flare when you see his truck on his drive. You pull up behind him, get out of the car, then make a point of slamming the door in the hope that he'll hear you coming.
You were pounding on the door, not caring if you were attracting attention. You wanted answers and you wanted them now. An exhausted Joel opened the door and you felt anger flare at the thought that he'd stood you up because he'd slept it.
"Pip this isn't-"
"A good time?" You growled, "It never is Joel."
"Please, I'm sorry I stood you up but-"
"No, I'm going to speak." Venom dropped from your words as you poked his chest "Simon told me what happened yesterday and I just can't believe that you would stand me up because I slept with the man I had been dating for over half a year!"
"That's not… I didn't stand you up on purpose I-"
"You what? You overslept? Your latest conquest only just left?" You barged past him with a strength you didn't know you possessed as you started to look around the house.
"Pip-"
"Where is she… where is the reason you decided to stand me up the morning after Simon broke up with me." You choked as your hurt started to slip through the cracks.
"Simon dumped you?" Joel asked and you nodded "Why?"
"Because I'm in love with you Joel… and I-"
"Do you want to scream any louder?" Growled Joel's mother as she walked down the stairs with a bundle in her arms "You're lucky she's so milk drunk. Not even the apocalypse would wake her right now." She said as she handed Joel what you could now see was a newborn with a gorgeous caramel complexion.
"Oh, Pip sweetheart, so lovely to see you." Said Mrs Miller as she pulled your stunned body into an awkward hug "It's been a bit of a mad house for the past 12 hours." She chuckled as she walked over to Joel to give him a kiss on the cheek before pecking the baby's brow. "I'll let Joel catch you up, I need to get diapers and formula. Will be as quick as I can sweetheart."
"Thanks, Mum." He said, smiling at her as she waved at you all and left.
Finally leaving you and Joel alone with this tiny baby you had just learned about.
"You… You have a baby." It wasn't a question.
Joel nodded as he looked down at the tiny person in his arms, a sweet smile gracing his lips as he brought her brow to his lips.
"I have a baby." He confirmed and you let out a shaky breath as you continued to stare at her.
"Is she…?"
"Eliza's?" He finished for you and you nodded "Yeah." He replied as he walked towards his couch and carefully sat himself down, watching as you followed him and sat down beside him "She came by last night. Dumped her in my arms and said she was mine and that she wanted nothing to do with being a mother."
Your eyes snapped to his at this statement and found him looking at you with a tearful expression "Left me enough formula to last me till tonight. No cot, clothes, nothing."
"How could she just leave her?" You sobbed as you looked at the perfect little girl in his arms and Joel just shook his head.
"She said she didn't want to be a mum." He replied "After we broke up she moved back to Austin. Had no idea she was pregnant. Not even Gloria did… then last night she just turned up at my door with her."
"Oh, Joel."
"I'm not ready to be a dad am I?" He asked as he looked at you again, his expression indicating just how scared he was.
"You're going to be the best father to this little girl." You said as you cupped his cheek and moved his face so that he looked you in the eye "You aren't going to be alone in this." You promised him "I will be here whenever you need me to be… day or night I will be here."
Joel nodded. Knocking a few tears loose and you watched as they rolled down his slightly stubbled cheek.
"Thank you, Pip." He breathed, giving you a small smile before he looked down at his little girl again "Her name's Sarah." He said after a short pause and you smiled sweetly at her.
"Hi, Sarah." You said softly as you leaned in to look at her better "Well aren't you just perfect."
"Would you like to hold her?" He asked and you nodded eagerly before carefully taking her off of him and settling into the plush cushions at your back.
You gazed at her sleeping form for what felt like an age. Her perfect little button nose and long black lashes making you swooning.
"I'll let you off." You piped up after a while and Joel hummed he as looked at you in confusion "For standing me up… She's a pretty good excuse."
Joel chuckled as he rested his head on your shoulder, you both continuing to gaze at her.
"We'll get through this…" He said and you nodded.
"Together."
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deans-queen · 1 day
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I Remember It🧣
Pairing: Jensen x Reader (Y/N)
Summary: Reader has been thinking a lot about her past relationship with Jensen, and she wishes things could have ended differently
Inspired by the Song All Too Well (Taylor’s Version) bold/italic text: song lyrics
Warnings: language, light smut, emotional vulnerability, sexual themes.
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Reader’s POV
It’s been months, but I still think about him every single day. Jensen Ackles—my Jensen—was everything I wanted. Until he wasn’t. I never thought we’d fall apart like this, that I’d be left holding pieces of a love so strong it could shatter me. But now here I am, sitting in my quiet apartment, listening to “All Too Well (Taylor’s Version)” and staring at the old scarf I wore the day we met.
“I left my scarf there, and you’ve still got it in your drawer even now…”
The words of Taylor’s song hit me right where it hurts the most. God, it was so stupidly perfect, the way we’d fallen for each other. I can still remember the way his hands felt on my body, his touch slow and deliberate, the way his lips would trace along my neck. The way he’d make me feel like I was the center of his world. He’d whisper things in my ear, dirty words that would set me on fire, make me crave him even more.
“Y/N, baby, you drive me wild…” he’d say, his voice low and husky, right before he’d kiss me, deep and consuming, pulling me into a world where nothing else existed but us.
And I gave everything to him. I wanted to drown in him, in his love, his touch, his passion. But looking back, maybe that was the problem. I gave him too much of myself, and he took it without realizing just how fragile I was. How fragile we both were.
“You call me up again just to break me like a promise, so casually cruel in the name of being honest.”
God, how that line hits me every time. He didn’t mean to break me, but he did. One night, after another fight, he just… walked away. He said we needed space, that we were moving too fast. But what he really meant was that I wasn’t enough to keep him grounded, to keep him here.
My heart still aches when I think about the last time we were together. We had one of those rare moments where everything was perfect again. We were tangled up in the sheets, my body pressed against his, our breaths heavy and shallow. He whispered my name in that deep, raspy voice, his fingers tracing my curves like he was memorizing every inch of me. I kissed him then, slowly, letting him know I wasn’t ready to let go, that I would always want more.
His lips were soft against mine, tasting like the whiskey we’d been drinking. He bit my bottom lip gently, making me moan into his mouth, and then he chuckled. That low, sexy sound that used to make me melt. “You like that, don’t you?” he whispered, his voice dark, teasing, the way he always did when he knew he had me.
I did. God, I loved it. I loved every second of being with him.
But I knew in that moment that it was slipping away. Even as we touched, as we kissed and lost ourselves in the heat of the moment, I could feel it—the distance growing between us. The way he would pull back, emotionally, even as his hands pulled me closer physically.
“And maybe we got lost in translation, maybe I asked for too much. But maybe this thing was a masterpiece ‘til you tore it all up.” I whisper the words to myself, feeling the tears burn my eyes. Maybe that’s what happened. Maybe I was too much for him, and he wasn’t ready for all I had to give.
I wish I could say it didn’t still hurt, but it does. Every time I close my eyes, I see him, smell him, taste him. I remember the way his breath would catch when I touched him, the way he’d look at me like I was his entire world. And yet, it wasn’t enough. I wasn’t enough.
I wipe my tears and grab the scarf, pulling it to my chest. It still smells like him, faintly, like leather and cologne. I wonder if he ever thinks about me, if he ever regrets walking away. Does he still have my scarf? Does he ever pull it out of the drawer and think about what we could have been?
Time won’t fly, it’s like I’m paralyzed by it, I’d like to be my old self again, but I’m still trying to find it.
The truth is, I don’t know if I’ll ever be the same again. Loving Jensen changed me, broke me in ways I never expected. But I don’t regret it. I’ll never regret loving him, even if it still hurts like hell.
I close my eyes and lean back against the couch, the scarf wrapped tightly around my fingers, remembering the love that was once ours. And even though I wish things had ended differently, I can’t help but smile through the tears, because for a moment, I had him. I had him all too well.
It’s been weeks since I last thought of Jensen. Or at least that’s what I’ve been trying to tell myself. But deep down, I knew I never really let him go. The pain has softened into a dull ache, but it’s still there, lingering just beneath the surface.
I’m curled up on the couch, sipping coffee, wearing his old flannel—yeah, I know, pathetic—when I hear a knock at the door. My heart skips a beat. I’m not expecting anyone, and for a split second, I think maybe it’s Victoria. But when I open the door, I nearly drop my mug.
It’s him. Jensen, standing there, looking exactly the way I remember him. His piercing green eyes lock onto mine, and suddenly, I’m transported back to all those moments we shared. The nights filled with whispered promises, stolen kisses, and passion that felt too big for either of us to handle.
“Y/N,” he breathes my name like a prayer, his voice low and strained. I can see the weight of everything hanging between us, the words unsaid, the pain we caused each other. “I—I know I don’t deserve to be here, but I had to see you.”
I cross my arms over my chest, trying to protect myself from the whirlwind of emotions rushing in. “Why now, Jensen? After everything, why are you here?”
He steps closer, his eyes filled with regret. “I messed up. I know I hurt you, and it’s taken me too damn long to admit that. But I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you—about us.”
My throat tightens, and I struggle to hold back the tears. “You walked away, Jensen. You left me here, broken. And now you just show up and expect what? For me to forget all of that?”
He sighs, running a hand through his hair, that familiar gesture that once made me weak in the knees. “I know I can’t undo the past. I wish I could. But I need you to know, I never stopped loving you. Not for a second.”
His words hit me like a punch to the gut. Part of me wants to slam the door in his face, tell him to leave and never come back. But another part—the part that still loves him, still aches for him—won’t let me.
“I don’t know if I can trust you again,” I whisper, my voice trembling.
He takes another step toward me, close enough that I can smell his familiar scent—leather, whiskey, and something distinctly Jensen. “Let me prove it to you,” he murmurs, his eyes searching mine. “Please, Y/N. Let me show you that I’m not going anywhere this time.”
I can’t help but look away, my heart hammering in my chest. The memories of him are overwhelming—the good, the bad, all of it. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, trying to steady myself. But then I feel his fingers gently touch my chin, lifting my face to meet his gaze.
“I never should have left you,” he says, his voice rough with emotion. “You were everything to me, and I was too scared to admit it. I was an idiot, and I didn’t deserve you then. But I swear, I’ll spend the rest of my life proving I do now, if you’ll give me the chance.”
His lips hover close to mine, and despite every defense I’ve built, I can feel myself leaning into him. “Jensen…” I whisper, my voice breaking.
He closes the distance between us, his mouth crashing onto mine in a kiss that’s both desperate and familiar. The world fades away, and all I can feel is him—his hands in my hair, his body pressing against mine, the heat between us igniting instantly. It’s like no time has passed, like we’ve been waiting for this moment all along.
“God, I missed you,” he breathes against my lips, his voice thick with desire. His hands slide down my back, gripping me possessively as he deepens the kiss, his tongue teasing mine. I moan softly, giving in to the fire that’s been burning in me for him all this time.
He pulls back just enough to look into my eyes, his breath coming in heavy, ragged bursts. “I want you, Tianna. I always have. I never stopped wanting you. But it’s not just that. I need you. I need us.”
His words make me tremble, and I know I’m already too far gone to push him away. I’ve wanted this—wanted him—for so long. But I can’t let him break me again. I need to be sure.
“You hurt me, Jensen,” I whisper, my voice shaking as the tears I’ve been holding back finally spill over. “You left me, and I don’t know if I can go through that again.”
He cups my face in his hands, wiping away the tears with his thumbs. “I know, baby. I know. And I swear to you, I will never hurt you like that again. I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you if you let me.”
The vulnerability in his voice, the raw emotion in his eyes—it’s too much. My defenses crumble, and before I can stop myself, I’m kissing him again, hard and desperate, like I’ve been starving for him all this time. He responds with equal intensity, his hands roaming my body, pulling me against him like he’s afraid I’ll disappear.
We stumble backward into my apartment, lips never breaking contact, and I’m lost in him again. Lost in the heat, the passion, the love that never really faded.
As we collapse onto the couch, his body pressing me into the cushions, I know this time it’s different. This time, he’s here to stay. And maybe—just maybe—we can pick up the pieces of what we lost.
“And I remember it all too well…”, and so does he.
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Authors Note:
Hope you enjoyed this story! It’s been in my drafts FOREVER, and I’m so glad I finally got the chance to post it. And also if this song doesn’t make you cry then are you even human ??? 😭Feel free to let me know what you think! I always love reading feedback!
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Sprinkles Of Romance
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PAIRING || CBF!Young!Tony Stark x CBF!Fem!Reader
WORDCOUNT || 6.8K
SUMMARY || When your dream of opening your coffee shop becomes a reality, you get a lot more than you bargained for. Not only do you get to fall in love with the shop, you also get to fall deeper in love with your best friend.
RATING || Teen (T)
TAGS || Bakery AU. Coffee Shop AU. Childhood Best Friends to Lovers. Mutual pining. Idiots in love.
A/N || SURPRISE! - I wanted to gift you all a special story, and I'm excited to share this story with you all after three weeks of no stories! From the bottom of my heart, I want to thank @ccbsrmsf1 for proofreading and picking this idea for me to write! It has given me the most warm, autumnal, and happy vibes during the writing, and I hope it will give you all a bit of the warmth I enjoy during this time of year! 🤍
A/N 2.0 || This is written for @elixirfromthestars's writing challenge! The prompts used in this story are Coffeeshop AU - Bakery AU - Saying I love you for the first time - “Would it be alright if I borrowed your sweater? It smells like you.” - “I’m only doing it because you’re cute.” - “I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice.” - “I’ve tried to forbid myself from falling in love, but now I can’t help it.” - “And when I felt like I was an old cardigan, under someone's bed. You put me on and said I was your favorite.”
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All graphics are made by @nicoline1998enilocin
Main Masterlist || Tony Stark
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Ever since you were a child, you and Tony were practically inseparable – or, as your mother would say, you two are glued at the hip. Wherever one of you went, the other came along, and this has always stayed the same throughout your life. Tony, Howard, and Maria moved into the house next to yours when you two were still babies, and from the moment you could walk and talk, you and Tony were constantly by each other's sides, getting into all sorts of trouble and going on different kinds of adventures, too.
Throughout it all, you two have also developed deeper, romantic feelings for each other, though neither of you has ever confessed to it to the other. Even though you're both well aware that your friends and family will always support your friendship, relationship, and shared dreams, it is still a hurdle you're unsure how to cross, as neither of you wants to lose the other.
Since you and Tony graduated from business school a few months ago – both getting a degree in how to run a business – you've been on a well-deserved vacation to Italy with all four parents. Still, now that it is over, it's time for you and Tony to return to the real world and hopefully see one of your dreams come true sooner rather than later.
Outside, the weather is turning chillier by the day, and autumn has fully settled over the small town you and Tony call home. The leaves outside are changing colors, and the decoration in your shared apartment has also had a make-over to an autumnal theme, adding to the atmosphere as the smell of freshly baked gingerbread cookies fills the air. While your best friend takes his time to put another batch of said cookies in the oven, the other ones are cooling on the counter, and you are in the middle of getting dressed after a shower.
In front of you is a life-size mirror, and you're checking yourself out from all angles as something about your outfit feels off. You're dressed in a pair of black skinny jeans, black boots, a black tank top, and one of your red flannels – a perfect outfit for the weather outside – but it's missing something. Then, as you walk back to your closet for the third time, it finally hits you. As the idea settles in your brain, you take off the flannel with a growing smirk before your feet pad over the hardwood floors of your apartment.
"Hi, Sprinkle," Tony says as he turns to greet you; the butterflies in your stomach are going wild as they always do when you're met with the sight of your tall, broad best friend. As you make your way up to him, he can't help but let out a shy smile, giving him an adorably sweet expression as you crane your neck to meet his gaze. Tony is a good few inches taller than you – you barely reach shoulder height when you're both standing barefoot next to one another – and it's something that has been a part of many of his fantasies about you, though he wouldn't dare to admit that to anyone.
"Can I ask you something?" you say softly. Even though Tony would never say no to you, you still put on your sweetest, most innocent voice to convince him either way. He hums as his gaze wanders over your soft features, the flushed skin from the shower you took earlier still there.
"Would it be alright if I borrow your sweater?"
It's a straightforward question, and Tony can't help but chuckle as he shakes his head slightly. Most of the sweaters he owns are already in your closet, and you could have picked any of those, but you still proceeded to ask for the one he's wearing. If he weren't already madly in love with you, he would be head over heels now, the butterflies in his stomach going wild as he steps closer to you.
"Hmm, I don't know. Why would you need to borrow the one I'm currently wearing when you have so many others already in your closet, ready to be worn?" he asks as he gently caresses your cheekbone with his thumb, his voice dropping lower while his breath ghosts past your cheek as he leans in a bit.
"Uhm… b-because it smells like y-you," you stammer, and Tony shows a satisfied smirk before humming again, letting you know he heard your answer.
"Alright, my sweet Sprinkle. You can have my sweater, but I'm only doing it because you're cute," he tells you with a smile; the heat you were feeling on your cheeks earlier is now soaring through your entire body as he steps back and removes his sweater. Tony's shirt rises a little as he does, giving you a glimpse of his toned abdomen and the little trail of black hair leading into his pants.
The sight before you leaves you nothing short of breathless, and your heart threatens to pound out of your chest as nothing but pure desire courses through your veins. You've seen him shirtless more times than you could count, but seeing him like this will always be some of the happiest parts of your fantasies about him.
"Sprinkle?" Tony says again, and you snap out of your daydream as you realize he's holding out his sweater for you to wear. As you take it, your fingers brush over his, sending a jolt of electricity through your bodies, letting you know you two are even more connected than you thought possible.
"Thank you," you respond before pulling the oversized sweater over your head. The soft and warm fabric feels like you're getting a hug from Tony. His scent envelops you entirely as you curl into the sweater, the sleeves falling over your hands as they fall into place. The entire time, Tony can't help but admire how his sweater looks on your frame and how perfect you look when wearing his clothes.
Then, the little bell from the oven pulls you both from your thoughts as the next batch of cookies is done, and a pang of disappointment surges through your body for a moment. The moment was perfect, but now it's over, and you must return to reality again.
"Can I bring you back anything from the store?" you ask Tony after you've gathered your purse, keys, and phone, ready to head out and get some more snacks for the movie night hosted at your apartment later tonight.
"A few more bags of chocolate chips, please. Oh, and some peanut butter M&M's!" he says excitedly, and you nod before saying your goodbyes and heading out the door. After putting on your headphones, you head to the store, which is only a 10-minute walk from the apartment. As you look around you, coziness and warmth envelop you, as autumn has always been your favorite time.
The scent of freshly fallen rain hangs in the air as you take your time; your pace slows as you enjoy your surroundings, but something catches your eye. Across the street, there's a large sign saying the store is for rent, and you can't help but go over, wanting to get a closer look. Right next door to the empty store is your favorite bookshop, and on the other side is a small restaurant, which fills the air with the rich smells coming out of its kitchen.
As you look inside, you have a perfect view of the store, which is illuminated by the golden rays of the sun coming through the floor-to-ceiling windows. It's a large space that allows for many possibilities, but the first that comes to mind is one that you and Tony have been dreaming of for years: a bakery with a coffee shop section built in.
Your fantasies come to life before your eyes as you imagine yourself behind the counter, making coffee while your best friend is working on the most delicious pastries that will fill the display with lots of colors. The smells fill the store as soft music plays, and laughter and conversations can be heard. Outside, people can enjoy the sun in the seating area and come in to see what you have to offer.
As you stand there, thinking about all the possibilities, you've completely forgotten about going to the grocery store, as all you can think about now is calling Tony and telling him your thoughts. Between the moment you grab your phone and the moment Tony answers your FaceTime call, barely 5 seconds pass before you're met with his beautiful smile, and a warmth spreads through your chest at the sight.
"Miss me already, Sprinkle?" Tony quips as he answers, making you laugh heartily.
"You know I always miss you when I'm not with you, Tony, but that's not why I'm calling! I was hoping to get your opinions and thoughts on something, as I may have found a way to make one of our dreams come true!" your voice rises about an octave from pure excitement. Before you know it, Tony is on his way to where you're standing, barely five minutes from your apartment.
Within minutes, you see the handsome features of your best friend as he walks closer, and a flurry of butterflies goes wild in your stomach at the sight. His casual style – jeans, sneakers, and a leather jacket thrown over a henley he put on after you took his sweater – is something you've fallen in love with over the years, and it compliments his messy hair and facial hair, making his entire look a combination to die for.
"Hi, Sprinkle," Tony says as he pulls you in for a hug. You can't help but sigh as your cheek is pressed against the firmness of his chest. You can never get enough of his hugs, and you hold on for a little longer than you would with anyone else.
"What's the sigh for?" Tony asks when pulling away, and you feel a burning heat in your cheeks at his question, your gaze avoiding his as you look at the pavement.
"I- Well…" you start as you wring your hands together, "I like hearing your heart beating when I put your head on my chest; it's calming to me," you confess. In any other situation, you would never admit something so personal, but with Tony, it feels right to do it, and you two never have secrets for one another – apart from your romantic feelings.
"You're too sweet, Sprinkle," Tony says with a deep red blush on his cheeks, his hands buried deep in his pockets before he does something stupid. He wants nothing more than to hold your hand or kiss you, but for now, he'll settle for what he can get from you, even if his desire tells him something different. He doesn't want to lose you by doing something stupid, as you're keeping him sane in this lifetime.
"So… what did you want to show me?" Tony then asks, curiosity ultimately getting the best of him now. A broad smile lights up your face as you turn around with spread arms, gesturing towards the store you've been standing in front of the entire time. A large sign telling you that it's for rent is sitting a little to the left of where you're standing, and that's when the coin drops for your best friend.
"You—you want to open a store here?" Tony asks, disbelief shining through in his voice. Not because he's against it in any way—it's been his dream for years already—but because you're not usually the type of person to bring up ideas like this.
"Well, I'd like to have a good look inside first, but from what I can see, I think it's the perfect place to open our bakery and coffee shop! We're right next to the bookstore, which is perfect for when people buy books and read them with some coffee and a treat," you tell him, and he nods in agreement. The placement is excellent, and within 20 minutes of calling the number printed on the large sign, there's a showing scheduled.
"I can't believe we're finally making the first steps to make our dreams come true," you tell Tony as you're still standing in front of the empty store, your hand in his as you squeeze it excitedly. He grabbed it during the phone call to ground himself, and neither of you has let go yet – it feels too good to let the other person go just yet.
That night, when you have your friends Natasha Romanoff and Bruce Banner over for movie night, you can't stop telling them all about your plans, and when you've explained it all to them, you can't stop smiling. The idea of opening a store with Tony has been on your mind for years, and now that it's closer than ever, it's like your entire life is going into a whirlwind of emotions in the best way possible.
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It's been a week since Tony made the appointment for a showing inside the store, and you're having breakfast at the dining room table together. While Tony is dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt, you're wearing your favorite Iron Man pajamas because they're warm and fluffy, perfect for the cooler weather outside.
"How're you feeling about today?" Tony asks between bites of his cereal, and you take a few moments to think about it before answering him.
"Nervous, but excited, too. We've wanted this for so long, and now that it might finally be happening, I can tell that there are a lot of nerves settling in my body," you tell him honestly, and he nods in agreement.
"Me too," he says softly, his gaze meeting yours as you stretch out your hand. His fingers intertwine with yours as he looks at you, a warm smile gracing his stunning features. His facial hair has become a bit more of a beard now, which suits him and only intensifies your feelings for him.
"We're going to be okay, though. We've always done everything together, and this won't be any different," he says, and you nod. Wherever one of you goes, the other will always come along, and it will be that way until the day you die. Then, as you're about to say something, Tony's phone suddenly grabs your attention as he's receiving a call. As soon as he sees who's calling, he turns the screen to you, showing you it's Maria.
“Buongiorno mamma, come stai?”
Each time Tony speaks Italian, you can feel your insides going crazy, as it drives you wild in the best way possible. While you've been attempting to learn Italian over the years, wanting to surprise Tony, something always came along that got your attention instead, so you could never practice enough without letting him know about your plans. While he would be the best teacher, if you want to surprise him one day, you'll have to find a different way.
"We're good; I was just talking to Sprinkle about the showing," he says, and you smile as he mentions you to Maria.
"It's this afternoon, but I'll update you and Dad, okay? I'll tell her you said hi, and I love you, too. Ciao," he says before hanging up, returning his attention to you.
"Mom said hi, and she asked when the showing was even though I told her three times already," he tells you with a chuckle. While Maria is one of the sweetest women you've ever met, she's sometimes not the best at remembering things.
"It's lovely of her to call. I always love how well you and she get along," you tell Tony, and he can't help but blush profusely at your words. He's always been a mama's boy, and he's aware of this fact, but when it's pointed out, he still can't help but turn red – though at the same time, he also loves it because he's very proud of the bond he and Maria share.
Shortly after breakfast, you and Tony are ready to head to the showing, which goes on without a hitch. You meet your landlord – a cheerful man with an Australian accent who introduced himself as Thor Odinson, and before you know it, you're in love with the space. Inside, there's a lot of potential for seating; during the summer, the seating area can be extended onto the sidewalk, too. There's a large counter that can be used as the place where you make coffee and display the pastries. In the back, there's an extensive stockroom and a large kitchen that will be turned into a workspace for Tony, as he will do most of the baking once the shop opens.
"So, what do you think?" Tony asks as you're standing in the stockroom together - Thor has left the two of you alone for a moment after excusing himself to pick up a phone call.
"I think we should go for it. The place has a lot of potential, as you saw, and I think Thor is also very nice," you tell him, and Tony nods. You two are lucky to have a landlord like him if you rent the shop, as he seems to be a hardworking, honest guy who's also in for a joke now and again.
"I agree, Sprinkle. Let's make our dreams come true," Tony answers softly before pulling you in for a hug. The way his arms wrap around you so effortlessly has your heart beating like crazy, your insides feeling like they're on fire as you settle in your best friend's arms. You're about to take the most significant step of your life, and you're happy that you get to do it with Tony.
Within 30 minutes, you, Tony, and Thor go over all the essential details for the lease, and then it's time to sign. Your gaze is trained on Tony as he gets ready to sign, but not without one last look of reassurance. It will all be okay, as you will do it together. There's never one without the other, and it won't be any different during the project of your dreams. When both your signatures are on the lease, Thor thanks you both with a firm handshake, wishing you good luck before he must go to another appointment.
You're holding the keys to your shop and a black, gold, and dark green business card that reads 'Loki Laufeyson | Interior Designer' on it. He comes highly recommended by Thor – though he also said that even though Loki is his brother, he's not just recommending him because of their bond. He's genuinely good at his job, and you don't have a reason to doubt his words.
It's official: you will open your own bakery and coffee shop with your best friend –the man you love. Your dream will come true in a few months, and before you know it, another one of yours will also come true, bringing a lot of joy to your soon-to-be busy lives.
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The past few weeks have been busy, exhausting, and rewarding all at once because even though you and Tony spend almost every single one of your waking hours in the shop to make it nothing short of perfect, it's also going to be an experience you only get to live through for the first time once. You're trying to soak up every second of it. Luckily, you also have help on most days from Loki, who spends his time overseeing the project from an interior designer's perspective, and your friends and family; they all help lighten the load a bit for you both.
Today, Bruce and Natasha have been helping for most of the day, and they have just gone home, leaving you and Tony to finish up for the night. You're sitting on the floor in the middle of the shop, dust, tools, and tarp everywhere, together with a few Chinese take-out boxes around the two of you, when you suddenly hear a noise you can't quite place.
"Do you hear that?" you ask, and without waiting for an answer, you get up, your feet taking you to the source of the noise. On closer investigation, you can hear a soft meow from the back of your shop, where the backdoor is open to let the paint smell evaporate.
"Tony?" you say softly, not wanting to scare the little creature away, as they've most likely been looking for a place to stay warm. The weather outside has taken a drastic turn the past few days, with more rain than you've seen in a long time, and temperature drops to below 50 degrees Fahrenheit regularly. Within seconds of your calling for him, you hear your best friend's footsteps and raise your hand to alert him, as you don't want to scare away the little being in your shop.
"Is that- "
"A cat? Yeah. I think he's looking for a place to stay warm," you say as you bend down to greet the small cat; he won't be much older than a year at most. He's very fluffy, even though he has just come from the rain, and his brown and white fur perfectly complements his piercing blue eyes. He's the most beautiful cat you've ever had the honor of meeting, and you've met a lot in your years on this earth. As you stretch your hand, Tony sits beside you on the floor, and the cat seems courageous and friendly enough to come and say hi.
"He's so cute, Tony; I can't believe the cat distribution system brought us this little guy," you say with a broad smile, making your best friend smile in return. Right now, Tony considers himself to be the luckiest man in the entire universe to share this moment with you – seeing you falling in love with the little furball in your store has him falling in love with you all over again, even though he's afraid to admit it to anyone but himself.
From that night on, that same cat has frequented your shop almost every night, and you've started to bring in some food for him so he has a place to stay warm and get something in his belly, too. Now, he happens to be sleeping on the large windowsill in the front of the store when Loki is paying another visit, and he has immediately pulled all the attention from your interior designer to himself.
"Look at this; who's this little guy?" Loki asks as he bends down to pet him. It's a bit of a funny sight, the man in a sharp black and dark green suit kneeling on the dusty floor to pet the cat that has been stopping by your shop almost daily.
"He wandered into our shop a week or two ago and visited us nearly every night. We have been calling him 'Coffee Bean,' and so far, he seems to enjoy it," you tell Loki while sweeping the shop floor. Tony is in the stockroom, installing some shelving while you've been busy in the front.
"Coffee Bean, huh? That's adorable," Loki says, and you can't help but smile at how he pronounces the name in his British accent. If Thor hadn't told you that his family adopted Loki as a baby, you would never have guessed the two were related, but their dynamic is fantastic. They've often been at the shop together and share a special bond that shines through in their work.
"Have you brought him to a vet to see if he's chipped?" Loki then asks, but you shake your head – usually, when Coffee Bean is visiting the store, it's either too late or you're too busy to have time to go, so you've been putting it off, though you also know deep down it's the right thing to do.
"I have a good friend who's a vet. His name is Bucky, and he's amazing with cats – even has one of his own," Loki tells you with a smile as he gets up before grabbing a business card from his shoulder bag. It says "James Barnes | Veterinarian," with a phone number and the opening hours of his clinic, which is very helpful.
"I thought you said his name is Bucky?" you ask, curiosity getting the best of you.
"You're right, I did say that. His full name is James Buchanan Barnes, but he tends to go by Bucky," Loki explains with a gentle smile before reorganizing his bag and getting ready to head out the door and to his next appointment. Once he's out the door, it's just you, Tony, and Coffee Bean, though what you don't know yet is that there's going to be a surprise guest swinging by later, even though their timing could have been better.
You and Tony have changed into coveralls to protect your clothes, as the time to start painting has finally arrived. It's been a task you have been looking forward to the most, and as Tony is mixing the color—a beautiful maroon—you're getting all the supplies, like brushes and rollers, ready. Then, as you turn around, something unexpected happens, and you're met with a splash of paint all over your body and the deep laugh of your best friend. When it finally sunk in what happened after a few seconds, a broad grin spreads on your features, and you bend down to grab a brush of your own.
"You're going to get it now, Stark!" you say before dipping the brush in the paint and splattering him with it, but you would soon come to regret that, as he's now following you with paint smeared all over his hands. It doesn't take long for him to catch you, pulling you against his body until you're so close that you can feel his breath on your lips. Your heart goes a mile a minute as you try to catch your breath, but it seems nearly impossible with him being so close.
And then, it's as if the world stops for a moment. There's nothing but you and Tony, your breaths mingling, and your closeness. But then, against all odds, you feel his hand cupping your cheek, the wet paint leaving a large handprint, though neither of you cares. Tony leans in first, your eyes slipping shut as he does. And then, when your lips barely ghost over one another, you hear an excited squeal, and you jump back as the thought of an intruder shoots through your mind.
Both you and Tony jump apart with heated cheeks, looking where the sound came from. Much to your surprise, you're met with the sight of Maria standing in the doorway to the shop – she has entered through the backdoor because she brought some décor to go on the walls once the paint was dry. Still, when she saw little Coffee Bean sleeping peacefully in the sun, she squealed from excitement, disturbing your almost-kiss with the man you've been in love with for as long as you can remember.
As you both face Maria, Tony's hand gently wraps around your forearm, letting you know he's close and everything will be okay.
"What were you two piccioncini up to before I came here?" Maria then asked, and Tony's cheeks turned the brightest red they'd ever been as he heard her calling you two 'lovebirds' in Italian. As soon as she saw the splatter of paint, the handprint on your cheek where Tony cupped it ever so gently, and how you two jumped apart at her arrival, she knew exactly what was happening, though she couldn't help but tease her son about it. She's seen her son fall in love with you over the years, and she's beyond ecstatic that he finally made a move, even if she interrupted it. Progress is progress.
"Oh, well- You know, painting," Tony says softly, his hand rubbing the back of his neck as his gaze is trained on the floor.
"Hm, maybe you should start painting the walls instead of one another, don't you think?" Maria quips with a wink, and then you remember the handprint on your face. It's been here the entire time they were talking, and now it's your turn to have cheeks that are practically on fire. Without excusing yourself, you rush to the bathroom – thankfully, you already have running water. As you're cleaning yourself up, Tony and Maria take the time to converse one-on-one.
"When will you tell her how you feel about her, Angioletto? She deserves to know how you feel, and based on what I saw before I interrupted you two, she feels the same about you. That woman has been head over heels in love with you for as long as I can remember," Maria says as she rests her hand on her son's shoulder. Even though she's wearing heels, she still has to crane her neck to look at him directly – it's safe to say he got his height from Howard.
"I don't know how, Mamma; I haven't found the right time. Honestly, I've forbid myself from falling in love, but I can't help it. She's such a sweet, caring, and kind woman, and she also has a smile to die for. I've never felt like this before, but at the same time, I'm also scared about what might happen if I confess- I don't want to lose her, Mamma," Tony says, tears brimming at his waterline at the thought of possibly losing you.
"Anthony, there's not a single universe where she'd leave you. You two have been through so much and are destined to be together. The universe has been waiting this long for you two to get together, which tells me it is meant to be. I can tell that Y/N has so much love for you, and you have so much love for her. Please, tell her how you feel because, honestly, if you're waiting for the right time, you'll wait for the rest of your lives and regret never telling her."
While Maria tells Tony all this, you can't help but overhear, and your heart is on fire at the words your best friend's mom has shared. She's also right because you have so much love for him, but you were afraid he wouldn't feel the same about you. Even though the paint is now washed off your face, the feeling of his warm, soft skin against your cheek is something you'll never forget, and the thought of it makes you smile again.
"You're right, Mamma, thank you," Tony says before leaning down and kissing her on the cheek, giving her a radiant smile as he does. Then, you walk back into the shop, acting like you didn't just hear their conversation.
"Hi, Maria," you say before hugging her, and she greets you as well before finally moving over to great Coffee Bean, who has now woken up. Coffee Bean purrs loudly under Maria's touch, and she can't help but feel proud – of Tony, you, and the cat slowly becoming part of your shop, too.
When her back is turned to the two of you, you dare to look at Tony, the memory of your mouths being so close you were breathing the same air still fresh in your memory. You don't get to think about it for too long, however, because the opening date of your shop is slowly creeping closer, and you still need to get a lot done, painting being the first thing.
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The past year practically flew by for you and Tony. From the moment you signed the lease to the point you're about to open your shop for everyone to enjoy officially, it still feels like a blur, but you're incredibly excited. The road to get here hasn't been entirely without challenges, but you've managed to overcome every hardship with the help of your friends and family, all of whom are here today to support you.
A few days ago, your friend and artist Steve Rogers was busy making seasonal paintings on the window that perfectly fit the autumn theme. Pumpkins, leaves, pastries, and coffee are all painted beautifully in orange and brown tones, but the cherry on top is that he incorporated Coffee Beans into the art, too. He's sitting in the middle of the window with leaves falling all around him, making him the focal point of it, and he's meant to draw in as many customers as possible.
Today, you and Tony have been making the last arrangements – checking to see if all the coffee machines work, baking many pastries and desserts, creating different sandwiches, and rearranging the furniture until everything is perfect. It's time for the official grand opening in a little over an hour, so you and Tony have returned to your apartment to get changed, and the nerves are starting to set in for you both.
While you've opted for a sweater dress paired with black boots, Tony has chosen a business casual outfit that goes perfectly with your dress. You two look like the perfect pair – and after tonight, you will be the people everyone longs to be. Once back at the shop, you can already see a small line of people outside the door – you are running a special that the first 25 people will get free coffee and a pastry or dessert of their choice, and it seems it will work so far.
In the store, Wanda and Natasha are happily chatting behind the counter as they prepare for the upcoming crowd. Over the past few weeks, they have spent a lot of time here, getting to know each other and helping you and Tony out wherever necessary, and today is the first time they will officially run the front of the shop.
Howard, Maria, and your parents also chat in one of the booths Loki suggested you get. Thor, Bruce, and Tony have placed them perfectly, allowing customers to enjoy the sun as they sit by the windows. Finally, Coffee Bean is sleeping on one of the windowsills again, enjoying the sun like he has since the first day he set foot in your shop.
"Sprinkle, can I talk to you for a moment?" Tony asks, his heart beating so fast it's a miracle you can't hear it. His eyebrows are furrowed slightly as he looks at you, worry settling in your stomach. You nod before following your best friend into the stock room, where you have some privacy between the coffee beans and other stock. He grabs your hands, encasing them with his large ones as he looks into your eyes with his dark brown ones.
"I- uhm… I've been thinking about something for a long time now, and I have never found a moment more perfect to say it – until now. One of our dreams is about to come true today, but I want to make it two. I've been madly in love with you for the past few years, Y/N. There's nothing more I want to do than kiss you and show you the way an amazing woman such as yourself deserves to be treated. But most of all, I want to be yours, and I want you to be mine for as long as you'll have me," he tells you, and it's like all the air is taken from your chest.
Tony lets go of one of your hands, instead tucking a piece of hair behind your ear as he continues, "I want to feel your lips on mine, and I need to know what they taste like because the thought of them has been driving me damn near mad for years. Please, please let me kiss you, my sweet Sprinkle," he whispers the last few words until they're almost inaudible, but you hear them crystal clear.
"Okay," you whisper back, and with a large smile, Tony leans to capture your lips with his. Your lips are soft against his own, and the subtle vanilla flavor of your chapstick has suddenly become the favorite he'd ever had the honor to taste. Your hands pull Tony even closer, and with the softest of groans, he parts his lips to allow you to explore his mouth. For a moment, there's nothing but you and Tony as time has stopped, and your entire body is on fire as you take your time together.
Then, you pull away to the feeling like heaven is shining down on you. Even though you're left breathless, it's also the best feeling in the world, as you've finally had the chance to kiss the man you've fantasized about for years. Your mouth splits into a grin, your features lighting up the way Tony loves so much, and he can't help but smile right back at you.
"I'm in love with you too, Tony, and I've seen how you look at me when you think I don't notice. The way you steal glances when I'm reading on the couch or when we're walking through the town. Or when you can't take your eyes off me whenever I'm cooking or baking," you add, making him chuckle in response.
"But there's something else I need you to know, Tony. When I felt like an old cardigan under someone's bed, you put me on and said I was your favorite. You always make me feel special and loved; it feels like home with you. You're my home, Tony, and for that, I will love you most of all," you tell him, tears brimming in your eyes as you do. Whenever you feel like you aren't worthy of love, Tony has proven you wrong and shown you what it's like to be so loved that you're practically overflowing with it.
"I love you, Sprinkle. I always have, and I always will," Tony then says before capturing your lips one last time, as it's officially time to start the next chapter of your lives by opening your shop, which you named 'Coffee Bean Café,' after the cat that had nestled his way into your hearts when you started renting the shop. After one last peck on the lips, you and Tony go out of the stockroom, but not without interlacing your fingers first, which doesn't go unnoticed by Natasha.
As you walk by together, she winks at you to let you know she's proud of you, and you can't stop smiling as your cheeks heat up under her gaze. You don't get to think about it too long because it's time to open your shop. After Tony gives a heartfelt speech, followed by you, you officially open the doors for the public, and Natasha and Wanda get to serve all the customers.
"How're you feeling, Sprinkle?" Tony asks when you two finally have a moment to yourselves, and you're almost melting under the sweetness of his gaze. Now that you two have admitted your love for one another, it's impossible not to want to be close to him.
"Excited, but tired at the same time. I'm happy we finally opened our shop, but right now, I mostly want some sleep," you say, and your body emphasizes the point by yawning, making Tony chuckle.
"Me too, but I promise I'll make it up to you tonight with some cuddles on the couch; how does that sound?"
"Like I want to sneak out and get my cuddles now," you tell him honestly, and Tony can't help but laugh at your comment, making some heads turn in your direction. Neither of you notices, though, as you two only have eyes for one another.
"I love you, Sprinkle, and I can't wait to see where this journey will take us." Your boyfriend leans in to capture your lips in the softest, most loving way, showing your love for the coffee shop. Behind you, there's some applause and loud cheering, making you both smile into the kiss. This has been long overdue, but now you plan on making up for every second you missed.
While you and Tony share a lovely kiss, Natasha and Maria look on with huge smiles. Then, Natasha holds out her hand, as the two of them had a bet going about when you two would finally confess.
"I told you they would confess today," she says with an even bigger smile, and Maria fishes a 10 dollar bill out of her pocket, handing it to her as she nods her head in agreement.
Out of all the beautiful things that have come out of the opening of your shop, the friendship between Maria and Natasha is one of the most unexpected, but what's most important is their shared love for you and Tony, as both of them wouldn't want anything other than happiness for the two of you.
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winchesterscorner · 14 hours
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[Dean Winchester] - Bruises
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♫ - Lucky Stars - Lucy Spraggan
This was a request for @jayblove1994, I hope you enjoy! <3
Loving a demon hunter wasn't easy. Loving a hunter was not what you expected in your future. But, you most certainly were not complaining.
Dean Winchester was a hell of a man. Often times, he was straightforward, honest and headstrong. Whether that was a good thing all the time or not, you didn't know. What you did know, was that he could also be soft, kind and caring. The Dean you saw behind closed doors was not the hunter, it was just a boy. Over the time you had gotten to know him, Dean had opened up more than you thought he ever would, and you learned things that made you understand the way he was every day.
Your relationship had, for the most part, been quite normal. Sure, you'd been kidnapped by Crowley once or twice, but that's what you get, dating a Winchester. But, when the King of Hell wasn't being a menace in your local area, you found dating Dean was one of the most calm and natural things you had ever done. Loving him was easy, and being loved by him was the best feeling. 
Dean's love language has always been touch. Physicality was always the way he showed love; hugs, kisses, falling asleep together. You name it, Dean did it. You were never short of love from him. In turn, you always helped him after a hunt, usually when a demon had given him a good fight. Tonight was another one of those nights. 
It was about 9pm, and you were just wandering around your apartment, tidying up a few things before planning to settle on the couch with a good book and some hot chocolate. There was a knock, the same knock that only one man did to let you know it was definitely him. Standing, you opened the door, and there was your boyfriend, bloody and bruised. 
"Dean!" you exclaimed, partly shocked at the state of his face and partly happiness. "Come in, babe, what on Earth happened to you?"
He shook his head and smirked a little, eyes staring into yours. 
"The same thing that always happens, sweetheart."
That gruff, sarcastic voice always tried to make the best of every situation. You chuckled, and brought him to the couch. Fetching a glass of water for him, and some washcloths, you began to clean him up whilst you sat.
Dean still, after all this time, wasn't used to someone helping him in times like this. Not that anyone hadn't ever offered, Sam and Cas most certainly had, but he never took the help. With you, Dean knew he didn't have a choice. You were always there to fix him, in more ways than just this. He wasn't against it, and he didn't think he deserved it most of the time, but it never stopped you and your love was something Dean wouldn't give it up for the world.
As you sat, your legs touched and Dean's hand sat on your thigh, thumb stroking up and down against the fabric of your pyjamas. Every now and then, you'd catch each other's eyes and smile. From previous experience, you knew Dean wasn't too talkative in these moments, and you respected that. Each time you cleaned up a section of his face, you gave him a quick kiss on the area. Slowly but surely, you had patched him up everywhere. 
"There we go,back to normal," you said, then shrugged. "Well, you know, as normal as a hunter can get, at least."
"So, not at all then, hey?" He chuckled, then held his ribs.
"Everything alright, Dean?" you asked,and he lifted his shirt to reveal his bruised rib cage. Your eyes widened. "Dean!"
"Well I figured you can't exactly fix this with water, can you?"
You just shook your head. "You're way too stubborn, Winchester."
"Ahh, you love me anyway, Y/N."
"I do, now get your kit off and change into something less blood-stained." 
He stripped down and fetched a pair of lounge pants from his drawer. Dean came round to your apartment so often you bought a specific set of drawers just for him, growing tired of having no space for your own clothes. You weren't complaining though, there was always something of his for you to wear. 
"Better?"
You spun round to see your boyfriend in just his pants, without his shirt on. You cocked your eyebrow, and smirked.
"Not that I'm complaining, believe me I'm not, but where's your shirt?"
"Nuh-uh," he started, taking your hand and leading you over to the sofa again. "You never mentioned a shirt, just something 'less bloody', and I believe I have fulfilled that request."
"I hate when you're right, Dean."
Dean winked at you and pulled you over to him, so you were straddling his lap. He looked at you, eyes sparkling and smile present. When he smiled like that, his whole faced lit up. But, you knew it was mostly put on, as these situations drained him, and though eh wouldn't admit to it, they scared him. The atmosphere got a bit more serious now you two were seated again.
Dean's hands rested on your hips, and one travelled up to the back of your head, running through your hair as he went. Pulling you forward, you rested your forehead against his. His hand came forward, tracing your jaw and running his thumb along your lips before he spoke.
"Thank you."
Dean's voice was a low whisper, his eyes closed as he just being in the moment. He got very emotional after hunts, and you guessed it was the comedown of adrenaline, or the thankfulness he felt that he could come home. Sometimes, it wasn't too bad, and the risk was low, but he got especially in his feelings after a risky run. Such as now, where he held you and you stroked his hair. Dean listened to your heartbeat, calming himself fully by counting the beats.
"I've always got you," you whispered into his ear, kissing the top of his head. "You don't have to thank me. I'll always be here. No matter what, or however bad it feels, I'm here to fix it. Never forget that. I love you, baby."
A hoarse reply came from the man in your arms.
"I love you too."
Dean looked up, and you could think he was close to crying. He looked tired, very tired. You smiled down, and brought your lips to his. The kiss started soft, your hands on either side of his face and his hands on your waist. He pulled you both down, so you were lying side by side on the sofa, facing each other. The kiss broke, and Dean was looking down at you, fingers tracing up and down your side lazily.
"I got very lucky to have you, sweetheart. I'm sorry things get dangerous, but know that I'll protect you, okay? I'll fight hell twice over for you."
You cuddled into him, and his strong arms enveloped you in a safe warmth you only got with him. You had forgotten all about your hot chocolate and book, but that could wait. For now, you were cherishing the soft moments with your boyfriend, and you wouldn't have it any other way.
Thanks for reading! <3
If you enjoy my content, you can buy me a coffee here :)
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introspectivememories · 2 months
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I FORGOT I EVEN SENT THAT ASK AND YOUR RESPONSE HIT ME LIKE A TRUCK OHMSYGODDFJDJ
I seriously love your writing so much you always put a heap of emotion into it 😭😭
also adore the idea of TIM being the one who's obsessed with bear and going to such lengths just to keep seeing him, I tend to prefer happy endings so I like to think they work it out after a while but like also the angst is amazing
god the amount of yearning in this au makes me so mmmpfhhhf
god im just so sorry that it took me soo long to reply!!! you sent just as i was taking my break from tumblr and other social media :(((
i remember reading it and thinking to myself "god if i had the timbern brainworms, i could write smth for this" but then recently they've been coming back and i was a church bored out of my mind when i was like "hmmm maybe i should respond?"
and ohhh my god, when i first got it, i immediately thought about how toxic it could get and like, personally, i feel like i can't write complicated characters? if that makes sense? to me, im not very good at writing multi-dimensional characters. which to be fair, i never set out to become like a pulitzer prize winning author. i just do this for fun haha.
and like i knew that my answer to your ask was always gonna be toxic timbern but i didn't know if i could write it? ig??? bc like tim is a good person. he is!!! he just wants bear so badly. and it's past the initial physical attraction now.
he and bear are all grown up. he likes bear's wit and humor, well the wit and humor he gets to hear when bear doesn't know he's around. but bear wont let him in!!!! bear wont open himself up and tim's apologized!!!! he did!!! he doesn't even know what he did and he still apologized!!!!! and it changed nothing. bear doesn't talk to him or look at him or anything. nothing but polite professionalism.
and then one day, he sees bear on his balcony as he's swinging through the streets of gotham. and bear isn't doing anything special, he's just sitting there in sweats and no shirt and the moonlight hits his pecs just right and his shoulders are so broad and-
well he cant be blamed for stopping to take a peek, right? and maybe when he has has time he swings by more and more. just watching for longer and longer, until one day bear catches him. and as they stare at each other from opposite sides of the street, tim thinks this is it. the cold glances and frosty words are going to come back. bear's never gonna just sit on his balcony again. he's lost this too. but then-
oh.
bear sends him a hesitant wave and tim raises a trembling hand to wave back. and bear- well bear's mouth splits into a smile brilliant enough to rival the sun. beautiful like the sunrise. the promise of a new beginning. if he closes his eyes, tim thinks he can feel the sunlight's warm rays on him.
hes' hooked after that. he comes around again and again. one day bear lets him on the balcony. weeks later, bear's hugging him. weeks after that, tim's in bear's lap. and he knows it's not right. that bear thinks he's someone else. that bear doesnt want anything to do with him but how is he supposed to let this go? how is he supposed disentangle himself from bear's arms?
so he lies and he lies and he prays to any and every god he can think of, that he'll get to keep this. plus he's not really lying to bear, he's just... not talking about it! if bear asks, he'll tell him point blank. he swears it. but that's a problem for another day. things are looking up! bear said more than 5 sentences to him the other day and yesterday? he even got a small smile. it'll all work out. he'll be fine.
#i have to stop answering asks. it always turns into word vomit#and like tim knows bear is never going to ask. bear would never ask robin to compromise his identity like that#so it is lying by omission. kind of. he's taking advantage of bear. love under false pretenses? i feel like this is textbook smth#i just dont know what#and i keep thinking of after it all falls apart and tim stupidly goes to visit bear on his balcony#and bear is sitting there crying. tears streaming down his face as he sniffles. and it's ugly and there's snot and bear's biting his lip#to try and stifle any noise he might make and tim's frozen on the fire escape of the opposite building and bear looks up#and even now he's still the prettiest thing tim's ever seen. a tear rolls down his face the moonlight glints off it#bear's gorgeous and tim did that. tim made him cry like that. tim's the one who broke his heart. who took his trust and twisted it beyond#recognition. and they stare at each other for a few moments before bear's face shutters close. hastily wiping his tears away#bear steps back inside and locks the door. there's nothing left for him out there anyway.#also me saying that stuff about my writing isn't me needing reassurance or anything. it's just my opnion of my writing abilities#as of right now. so like dont think you have to reassure me or anything.#how did this get so long???? this was just supposed to be me talking about my thought process to the previous ask#and then it turned into this#as always nothing in the veil!au is set in stone. not even this. please do whatever you want with the au!!!!#timbern#timber#tim drake#bernard dowd#veil!au#asks#introspective.txt
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leonardalphachurch · 2 months
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sometimes i remember that most north fans don’t write him as an absolute insane person ethical manipulative girlfriend style and i’m like. what is he even then… just a pleasant white man? you know what. more power to you if you need a pleasant white man for a blorbo but god that could not be me
#most ppl write north as just like. a nice person i think.#i know him though. i know him.#like nork is SUCH a popular ship (at least like. historically) and every time i see it i go ‘haha that would never work’#and then i remember. oh right most ppl write these guys as like. just kind of decent dudes.#nork to me is like. worlds first ethical manipulative girlfriend (not actually ethical) x worlds first manic pixie dream Nice Guy#who both have literally no identity of their own and sure aren’t actually giving each other one#they’d be so miserable…#constant battle of ‘can’t you see what a sacrifice i’m making for you’#neither of them would ever admit anything was wrong. they both think they can fix it forever#just slowly falling apart. it’s fine :) they’re fine :)#n\orkington is even more baffling#i genuinely couldn’t even imagine the dynamic there#like i know it’s pfl uwu baby wash but even still#he’d be so miserable they’d treat him like shit ToT#oh god north/wash. wash run. WASH RUN.#noooo wash my little chameleon you can’t stay with him he’s going to make you his baby bird#he wouldn’t even realize ToT he wouldn’t even know why he’s unhappy. oh god. wash RUNNNNNNN#i just don’t think north should be in a relationship basically#‘what about churchnorth’ okay. let’s be real. do we really think church should be being in a relationship???#their toxicity perfectly cancels each other out into like. something that’s actually good for both of them#wraps all the way back around. horseshoe theory.#okay this has turned into pure rambling. it’s 4am
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crimeronan · 1 year
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god it's a hard life for someone who doesn't super care for (but also doesn't mind) brother-sister designations for luz and hunter & is now having to read people griping about them not explicitly canonically sharing a guardian. as if their parentage has literally anything to do with why they're family. maybe i'm just old or maybe it's because almost no one i know has a good enough relationship with their parents for them to factor into any found family dynamic at All but. it's like. once again. here i am. forced to die on the hill of. Guys. You.... You Know That There Are.... Committed Life Partnerships That Aren't Marriage Or Siblinghood.... Right....? You Guys Know That Hunter And Luz Are Family Because They're Each Other's People And Chose Each Other And Adore Each Other And That It Was An Entire Excellently Done Arc And It's Completely Unrelated To Traditional Nuclear Family Dynamics.... Right?
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myname-isnia · 7 months
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I’ve been so completely out of it all day bc of last night’s revelation, it’s literally been the only thing I could think about, and the deeper I get in analysing my life experiences the more realisations I come to, and each one feels more horrific than the last.
Not horrific as in terrible, but as in it feels like whatever remains of my sense of self is completely falling apart. I thought I was bi for so long, didn’t even spend a single second questioning it. Never did I even think that I may be wrong, it seemingly made too much sense for me to be wrong. But the sense it made was the fact I was attracted to both male and female characters in animated shows, not real people.
I don’t think I’ve ever had a crush on a real person before. Not on someone I knew irl, nor on some actor/celebrity, nor on someone I saw on tiktok or wherever. And it’s like, I can acknowledge someone is attractive, even that someone is beautiful or hot, but it’s never personal when I do. Pretty girls I see don’t linger in my mind at all. I can’t picture myself dating them or getting intimate or kissing them or anything. It’s a purely aesthetic attraction with no feelings behind it. With animated/drawn characters it’s different, I can actually feel all the physical side-effects of looking at someone you’re romantically attracted to. But when the scale of a drawing slides too far towards realism, like with museum paintings or even that one Suiren portrait I drew once, the attraction fades again. I’m just not and have never been attracted to real people.
At my old school the topic of which celebrities you found hot came up often and I never knew what to say. Naming the ones I knew were conventionally beautiful but I wasn’t personally attracted to felt like lying, so eventually I started naming people my mom found hot. She’d tell me which actors she had a crush on when we watched movies or shows together and I pretended to see her point. After a while I managed to convince myself that it wasn’t pretending and that I really agreed with her. I realise now it all boiled down to purely aesthetic attraction again, I had no genuine interest in them. And one could assume it was just my preference for women showing, but female celebrities faced the exact same treatment from me.
I started reevaluating a lot of sexuality-related feelings and life moments. My dad’s SIL often laments how I’m 17 and don’t have a boyfriend yet, and when I say I don’t want one she goes “Why? It’s not like you have to sleep with him, wouldn’t it be nice to be gifted flowers and taken on dates and the like?” I usually just shrug but my internal answer was always a resounding no. I once again thought I just liked girls more, but when I actually thought about what if dad’s SIL wasn’t homophobic and posed the question in a sapphic way, I realised that my answer wouldn’t change. I don’t want a partner of any gender or to be taken out on dates or anything like that.
It was here that things really started to go downhill for me last night bc then, once I realised I didn’t want a girlfriend, I turned my attention to the more sexual side of things. It’s possible to be aromantic and allosexual, right? But I’ve known for a while that a lot of sex-related things are a very big ick for me, penetration of any kind being on top of the list. Forget dicks and toys, I don’t want fingers or tongues inside me either, not have I ever used a tampon. But not everyone likes penetration, that’s fine, there are other things. But the thought of someone lavishing my tits with affection just makes me way too hyper aware of them which triggers my dysphoria, and I’ve always found kissing to be extremely gross, and… pretty much every sexual act I can think of causes some kind of rejection in me. Fantasies are fine, fics/writing are fine, even watching porn is fine for the most part (even then, I can only get off to it if I imagine 2d characters in place of the people), but the second I think of something actually being done to me? It makes my toes curl in a very much bad way.
I’m by no means a completely non-sexual being, quite the opposite actually. I’m horny a lot of the time and it’s completely normal for me to get off at least once almost every day, but again, it’s all only in fantasies (which never feature me, only characters). I’m so averse to the idea of fucking or being fucked that I don’t even touch myself, ever. I accidentally discovered that rubbing my thighs together in a specific way feels good when I was younger and have just been doing that ever since. I’ve tried using my hands but it’s just not pleasurable in any way. I really don’t want anything or anyone touching me, ever, at all. And it’s so weird to realise because it seems natural for someone with as high of a libido as mine to want to be fucked, right? But the mere thought disgusts me and causes insane anxiety to overtake my entire body, and idk if there’s a clearer way for my mind to tell me that no, you don’t want any of that, trust me.
That’s another thing. Maybe I’m just scared. I have debilitating anxiety, I’m terrified of literally everything, of course that, added to my body image issues and complete inexperience in all manners romantic or sexual, would result in these types of feelings. Maybe I just haven’t met the right person yet who will awaken my attraction to real people and cause me to want a partner and romance and sex and whatever else. Maybe I’ve convinced myself that I’m too much of a mess for anyone to love me so it’s better to label myself as aroace before I get my heart broken. I don’t know. But writing it off on all that doesn’t feel right, and while I’m not exactly the best judge of my own feelings, my gut is telling me that I’m wrong. It’s not anxiety and inexperience, it’s my very real borderline aromantic and asexual feelings finally being acknowledged.
I think back on my life. I thought I had serious crushes before, I even had a girlfriend for a few months, but that was all initiated by someone else. The other person showed interest first and I thought “Okay, they’re pretty enough, maybe I can do this, maybe I just need to get into it and the feelings will come later”. Nothing ever went anywhere beyond hand holding or brief hugs, and I was okay with that. I enjoyed spending time with them and lit up whenever they showed up and thought that’s what loving someone felt like. But now that I have real friends that I’m 100% sure I’m not attracted to, I realised I feel the exact same way towards them. I just like being with people who want to spend time with me and who I share common interests with, and I like being paid attention to. Nothing romantic to it. When it comes to my good friends I always had a position of “Well I don’t find them particularly attractive but if they were romantically interested in me then I’d go for it” and thought that was a crush. It’s no wonder anything vaguely romantic in my life ended before it could properly start. Really hard to be in love with or build a relationship with someone who clearly doesn’t feel romantically interested in you, even if they’re trying very hard to be.
And that’s the center of the whole issue. There’s nothing wrong with being aroace, nor with being wrong about the label you chose when you were 12. What makes be sob for hours is this feeling as if a knife was driven through my heart. All these years I’ve been subconsciously lying to myself and I didn’t even know. I can’t blame myself for that, I’m aware, I had no way of realising I was wrong because I never had any experience. But the pain and confusion and sense of being lost are still there, beyond all rationalisation. And all those times I said I wanted to be railed by a pretty girl and other similar things to that? Also not true. I said those things because it felt like what a horny queer girl should say. It wasn’t a conscious lie, I really believed it when I said it, it never even registered as false until now. Until I dug deep inside myself and realised I don’t want to be railed by anyone in any way ever. For the longest time I genuinely thought I wanted what’s normal for queer allosexual women to want. It’s hard coming to terms with that I really, really don’t. I’ll definitely need some time to process everything properly,
Honestly, this revelation isn’t too surprising, all things considered. I once had a conversation with someone who talked about those younger years of every queer girl, staring at other girls in the changing rooms, wanting to date them, wanting to be a boy so it’d be possible before they knew gay people existed and becoming sneakier with their glances after they found out. And I really couldn’t relate to that. I’ve never felt attracted enough to someone to experience any of that. Back then I thought I couldn’t relate bc I never had a sexuality crisis nor did I hide my sexuality from the other girls in my class, almost all of whom were queer too. Turns out I just genuinely don’t experience attraction like that. Or at least I think I don’t. I don’t know. Now that I’ve got most of my thoughts regarding all this on ‘paper’, hopefully I’ll have a clearer mind and can come to a more concrete conclusion. And for now… let’s just put me very firmly in the ‘questioning’ box.
#maybe I am wrong. maybe it is my inexperience talking for me and once I lose my virginity I’ll realise it feels good and start wanting it#but that most likely won’t happen anytime soon. if ever#that’s another point. in any other circumstance there would be no rush to figure it out#I could make it to college or whatever and maybe try dating around a little to see if it really does cause such an aversion in me#but I don’t have that time guaranteed#I don’t know how long I could go on for. I don’t know if I’ll even reach my 18th birthday#what if I lose myself in my darkest thoughts and snap. give up. end it all#wouldn’t really matter what I identify as then. would it#but I’m trying hard not to think about that#just… if I were to go. I’d prefer to do it with at least some certainty gained in life#out of all possible things. sexuality feels like the most realistic one#I’d like to know that about myself#but that’s all hypothetical. I’m not planning anything. I’m too much of a coward to even be capable of it#for now. at least#and currently I just… feel so weird about all this#and how could I not? it’s like I said. my entire sense of self is falling apart#I’m pulled in so many different directions. am I aroace or just scared or traumatised??#does it even matter? should it matter? why do I care so much?#the cognitive dissonance between saying I would consider immigrating to be railed by a hot girl#and then realising I don’t want to be railed at all withing like. an hour of each other#is driving me absolutely mad#who even am I anymore#I still enjoy reading smut. nothing’s changed. I’ve just became acutely aware that idk what any of what’s described would feel like#nor do I really want to find out#and all of the kinks I’ve labelled as mine are actually just things I like reading about. not what I want to experience#god.. I almost wish I never stared thinking about this. life is hard enough already#I don’t want to feel like I’ve been lying to myself for the last five years even if it wasn’t intentional#I don’t want to have to reassess my entire being#I was comfortable and confident in calling myself bi. but after today and last night that label just doesn’t fit anymore#I just feel so lost… fuck. I spent 2 hours typing all this out. I need a nap. and perhaps a long cry too
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screampied · 5 months
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Hii baby veygusssss<33 hoping you a nice day / night🩷🩷, so um hear me out Choso x shy reader re-creating one of p-hub most liked nor watched vid? Just a silly thought of mine hehehei feel free to ignore this. Muaaaaa😚💗
- 🧃 ( new anon, I hope it's not taken yet😞 )
꒰১ cw. fem reader, doggystyle, hair pulling, choso tries dirty talk, premature ejaculatıon, mdni.
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“baby, i— i wanna do this,” choso mumbles, showing you the video that displayed across the screen. oftentimes he’d show you some positions he’d wanna try, the only ones you’ve ever done with him so far was missionary or cowgirl. his ultimate favorite out of the two—just you straddling him, staring into his eyes always makes him shudder. “can we try it?”
peering at the screen, it was a woman and a guy performing a well known prominent position. with a shy expression, you speak in a soft tone. “doggystyle? you wanna try that?”
“yeah,” he pouts, closing out of the web page before turning back towards you. the both of you were on the bed, tangled limbs keeping each other warm before he pants. “i think you would look pretty like that,” and he gulps. “i mean, you’re always pretty— but like . . on your hands ‘n knees for me, you know?”
you giggle, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “i know what you mean, baby, and okay. we can do doggy if you’d like.”
choso’s face lights up and he only grows more flustered once he sees you sit up. “okay, okay,” he tries to compose of himself, gawking openly as you lie flat on your stomach. then, you sit upright, placing the palms of your hands on the bed with your knees in place. his lips quiver, taking a three second glance at your ass. “a-and i’m gonna get behind like this, i think,” he cutely tries to remember the video. choso’s already starting to pant, shallow breaths of clouded puffs depart from his lips before he springs out his dick. he lets off a whine, staring at your pussy and how it was a bit moist from the outer entrance. “oh, it’s so wet from up close.”
“choso,” you tease, feeling yourself grow hot yourself. “any day now, baby.”
“s-sorry, sorry,” he snaps out of his erotic trance, reaching near the nightstand drawer to take out the lube bottle. he tried not to take too long, he wanted to be inside just as much as you wanted him inside also. quickly, he applies the lube in the right areas of you before focusing his attention back towards his throbbing cock. “give it a f-few pumps before going inside,” he speaks to himself underneath his breath, stroking his length once or twice. you wriggle your ass in anticipation and he only grows more abashed. you were shy just as him, although you were a bit more of an impish tease. “tell me if it’s too much, ‘kay?”
“okay, ‘cho.” you comply.
after a bit, he inches the head of his tip near your slit that’s starting to open. he’s mesmerized, his mouth slowly pries open at the sight before he’s gradually starting to sink his way in. as choso grows quiet, you let off a soft moan that makes him pause.
“baby? does it hurt? what ha—”
“choso, ‘m moanin’ because it feels good, ‘m okay i promise,” you simper in a shaky breath, leaning against your folded arms. not even facing him yet you could tell he was so big—standing tall proudly with inches underneath his metaphoric belt. “keep going.”
he gulps, nodding with a sweet, “okay,” before resuming where he left off. such thickness has your lips spreading apart,
he falls in love with the warmth that your gummy walls provides—sending him into straight nirvana.
it feels almost blissful, you squeeze against him before relaxing, he’s barely even halfway in and you already feel the elastic stretch. it’s too good, the moans that constantly let out from your mouth only makes his dick twitch more. once you let off a whine, he whines. “just a few m-more inches, princess,” he swallows—choso’s throat becomes suddenly dry and you bite your lip. so big, the way he’s so gentle to not break you was oh so cute nonetheless. “so warm.”
choso speaks in a low gruff voice, yet it’s still so whiny. your goopy walls forever cling onto him before within seconds later, you’re rightfully stuffed. he gasps, a sudden sweltering sensation waves over him once he realizes he’s buried balls deep. a few languid seconds inside your pussy and he was already losing it — the poor thing, you had him whipped.
“ugh,” he whimpers, preparing for an impactful thrust. choso’s a bit awkward, trying to remember what his eyes saw from the video as he holds your hips firmly. “gonna f-fuck you now, baby,” he mewls, and gives you a single thrust. he’s hesitant, wanting to make sure you’re okay before you’re babbling for him to not stop. a single thrust like that was purely addicting—you throb and he feels it, the way your walls constantly tease him by constricting around it.
so evil,
your ass is held up high against the bed before he starts to fuck you at a sloppy pace. sweaty thumbs of his brush against your hips as he’s holding you firmly in place, trying to maintain a decent enough rhythm. “ngh, so hot inside, feels so good,” he hiccups, feeling the very bottom of your hips tilt back. skin against skin — it feels like you’re melting against choso, it’s heavily intoxicating.
with the way your ass sticks up against him like glue, he goes crazy, feral. choso makes you spread a bit further before he’s really driving his cock into you. he makes sure his pace isn’t too fast before he lets off a melodically lewd moan. with his sculpted abs flexing, he lets off a soft whimper. “baby can- can i pull on your hair a little too?”
you giggle, nodding as you’re continuing to adapt to the feeling of being jostled against the silky bedsheets. “yes, choso. go ‘head.”
choso’s wheezy pants grow heavier and heavier, he leans up close to where he’s shoved right up close against you. with your knees widening, he grabs a good amount of your hair before giving it a soft kitten tug. “is that good?”
“baby, harder. ‘s okay, you can be a l-little rough.”
he pouts, giving you a more harder tug and you moan— leaning forward with your head lying back down between your arms. “just like that, doin’ so good baby, keep—keep going, fuuuck.”
your torso’s upright, he moans at how good you feel from the inside. choso can’t help but feel himself starting to drool a bit. your pussy was addicting in every way. you fuck back against him, rotating your hips a bit and he squeezes your right ass cheek. choso’s never really stared at your ass much, but now, that it was constantly bumping back against him—he just couldn’t look away. “m-my goddd, ‘s warm,” he pleads out, desperate for more of this feeling. you clamp down on him tightly, nerves all over his body send him shivers inside and out. choso can already feel himself start to sweat, his dick continuously reaches every orifice inside of your stuffed pussy. for a moment, he closes his eyes shut, getting hard at the rough recoil your ass smacks against his torso. it’s sexy, something within him was telling him to spank you but he wanted to ask first. “f-fuck, um . . princess? one more thing?”
“yes baby?”
“can—” he breathes through jagged breaths, slowing his pace down just a bit to rub a thumb against your hips. “can i spank you o-one time?”
“yes, ‘s okay, spank me, choso.” you moan, feeling his tip reach deeper throughout your tightening cunt.
he’s so sweet, he caresses the left cheek of your ass before giving it a spank. it jolts you forward and you let off a sweet gasp, though once he realizes you like it, he starts to spank you over, and over, and over, until you’re being more vocal than him. choso’s so in love with your voice that he could listen to it all day,
it was something about the smoothness in it. the way you whine for more in such a honeyed tone makes the tips of his ears burn. he still couldn’t fathom that he, choso kamo—was making you feel this good. but the more he starts to rut into you, the more he starts to feel something creep up. it’s sneaky—steadily arising before he feels a pool of warmth reside near his lower abdomen.
“i- i think ‘m gonna cum,” he whimpers, and he says it quickly, you feel the vein that runs down his shaft pulsate through you and your legs squeeze together for a moment. he pokes his bottom lip out, about to spank you against but he hesitates. he doesn’t wanna be too mean, so he caresses your bare cheek instead, brushing a thumb against your ass like a brush paints its canvas. “should i p-pull out?”
“i-inside, choso. inside.” you whine, and darkened brows of his raise. his mind’s racing and he’s taken aback, you want him to finish inside?
choso grips your hips with both hands, trying to remember the video before he cutely spews out a specific dialogue. “g-gonna flood your pretty vagina with my sticky cum, whore.”
and you giggle—you giggle and choso gasps.
“w-what’s funny?” he frowns, pausing his hips. “did you not like my dirty talk?”
he’s still buried deep into you from the hilt and you bite on your arm before replying. “heh, no it’s just .. nevermind,” and you have a soft smile, still not facing him. “but we gotta work on your dirty talk, baby. no one really says vagina or sticky cum.”
“…oh,” he says with his brows curling into a furrow. so cute, yet after a while, he finishes anyway.
his orgasm hits him like a truck — it’s so good that he whimpers, rocking his hips against you before feeling the drenched sloshes of oozing cum pouring into you. it’s thick, ropes and ropes of his velvety seed trickles into your sopping folds. he came a lot too, despite it being a bit early. whines welt from his mouth before he pulls out slowly, staring in revere at the way your pussy’s plugged all in. momentarily, his cum starts to dribble out and he runs a thumb down it to touch it. it’s warmth, he shudders before averting his attention back towards you, towering over you. he pants, “s-sorry, you didn’t get to finish.”
“we’re not done, silly,” you kiss the bridge of his nose where his scar lays. “and don’t be sorry. you did amazing with doggy, you’re a natural.”
choso pouts, yet grows flustered once your lips hit against the bump of his nose. “eh. but i could do better. i wanna learn how to talk dirty for you.”
“we have all the time to practice, baby,” you softly whisper, pulling him into a hug—wrapping your shaky legs around his slim waist. choso inhales, staring at you with rough pants leaving his lips every millisecond. “we’ll get better.”
he lets off a relieved sigh at how understanding you were, he lays his head against your chest, bristle hairs of his ponytails tickle against your skin before he speaks in a shy tone. “o-okay, okay but um .. can we maybe try another position i saw?”
“what is it baby?” you hum, stroking the edge of his temple in such a hypnotic way—the benign rhythm of your fingers was so soothing he found himself almost drifting off to sleep.
he had a cute smug grin. “f-full nelson.”
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buckyalpine · 1 month
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You know who'd talk you through it? Bucky. Bucky would talk you through it. I'm feral therefore this is feral. I always say I'm sorry after writing shit like this but this time I'm genuinely sorry, lost sight of the plot.
18+ af, minors dni
I'm gonna finish a wip, I swear, but just imagine for a moment, Bucky being intimate with the most soft shy little bunny ever and learning what she likes based on all the pretty moans and squeals he can pull out of her. He gauges what she's into based on how fucking soaked his balls get from the way she drips on him. Her pussy gets so tight around his dick and he knows whatever he's doing is working because she
She was too scared to tell him anything about what she liked so there was a lot of experimenting in the start. He took it soft and slow at first, basking in how warm her body felt against his, relishing in those quiet sighs she makes when he rolls his hips. For a while he thinks that's as vocal as she gets until a slightly harder thrust of his cock makes her squeak, her cunt clenching around him. His eyes widen at this new found discovery, thrusting harder and harder each time, that squeak turning into a slutty moan.
So she can get louder...
It's become a game for him, talking you through every single orgasm he pulls from you, growing more and more feral over how vocal you are when he does something new.
"Mmph, fuck yeah, that's it baby, moan f'me" He coos as he fucks his fingers in you faster while kneeling in front of you, his own knees keeping yours apart. He's truly playing with your body to his own delight having you naked, legs spread far apart with your pussy on display for him. He loves fingering you because he gets to look at your entire body whither beneath him. Little does he know how crazy it makes you because while he towers over you, eyes raking over your pleasure consumed form, you're admiring him right back. His thick pink cock is so full and hard standing achingly tall. His balls look deliciously heavy and you love the way he uses his knees to keep you spread because he ends up showing off even more of his sac and you are rightfully obsessed.
Your clit makes him drool. It's so perfectly sensitive and he's perfected licking, rubbing and sucking it till your gushing on his face and pulling his hair.
"Y'like that huh baby" He whispers to himself when he rubs faster and you start to claw at his arms, your back arching off the bed, moans growing louder. He watches your reaction like a predator watching it's prey waiting for the perfect moment to let you fall.
"Y-ess" You manage to cry out but Bucky thinks you can do better.
"Y'know what m'gonna do now bunny?" He knows you can't answer but based on the way your clit is throbbing against his fingers your attention is 100% on him. You loved his dirty talking and he's going to keep going until the sheets need to be changed. "M'gonna lick and suck on that pretty little clit of yours, you like that, don't you?"
You frantically nod and he lets out a breathy chuckle, his own cock getting wet at the thought of tasting you.
"Lookit what you do to me" He pulls his hand away making you look down so you can see him squeeze his cockhead, smearing his arousal onto your swollen bud, tears falling from your cheeks from how erotic and dirty he was. He rubs his tip all over not bothering to muffle his own whines and whimpers, "M'so fuckin' sensitive here baby" He'd never miss a chance to edge you both, your most sensitive parts rubbing against each other until he's done teasing. "See how wet you make me bunny? You're not the only one who gets soaked baby, shit you make me so wet"
You can see clear sticky webs clinging from his cockhead to your clit as he continues to tap and rut himself against you, "Don't worry baby, I'll clean up the mess I make"
He goes down between your legs, starting off with tentative licks like a kitten. That's before he lets those pouty lips of his seal around you, suckling with needy gurgles as if he were drinking milk. He groans at the taste of his own precum he marked you with, your taste combined with his makes him nearly cum.
"O-OOH-" The squirm of your legs are held still by his arms. He doesn't know how anyone other than you can look so adorably sweet and slutty at the same time with your eyes rolling back, jaw slack, sinful sounds filling the room, your white cream making a mess on the sheets. His dick is dripping and while he'd love for you to finish on his face, he knows that's not your favourite way to cum.
No.
Your loudest moans are when your filled with his cock while he plays with your clit with his lips by your ear.
Favourite position? You're not picky but he knows the ones you love the most. Your pussy gets so tight when he puts you in the sluttiest ones.
"Good girl, good fuckin' girl" He whispers tugging your earlobe between his teeth while maintaining a brutal pace, the sweat slicking his chest hot against your back. You're kneeling while he fucks you from behind, holding your body up, one hand wrapped around your throat while the other holds your hip. He wasn't sure how you'd feel about being choked until you squirted on him the first time he did it. "You love my fat cock don't you bunny, slut for big dick-" He brings his hand down to slap your clit making you sob, your wetness squirting onto the sheets, body limp in his hold, "Baby, you're soaking my balls, should make you suck them clean"
You moan louder.
Bucky smirks.
He's going to keep going.
"You like that don't you, you wanna lick my balls clean angel? Empty them first and then get down and suck 'em. Suck my cock, drink up all the cum that's still dripping after I cum in you"
That's all it takes. You're cumming without warning but Bucky's gonna make your orgasm last minutes if possible, his dirty talking getting filthier with each clench of your pussy.
"M'gonna be all sensitive for you angel, y' know how hard m'gonna cum for you? Gonna keep on cumming until I'm all empty"
"You're such a slut huh, you'd suck my cock even if it was soft-oh shhit baby-you like that too? You like me turning soft for you? You want daddy to get subby for you baby, hm?"
"I-I-Oh god James!!!" You whine and desperately try to fuck yourself back on him to prolong how good he's making you feel, all these feral thoughts too much-He reaches to pinch your clit, now rolling it between his fingers and you nearly pass out-
At this point anything he says doesn't matter. Maybe it happens. Maybe it doesn't. He just says anything and everything that clouds both your fantasies that make you sob and sob from overstimulation.
"I can be subby for you bunny, y'know that. Tell daddy what you want, you can have anything y'want"
"Love when you lick my balls, clean my cock. Shit, y'know I'd let you touch me anywhere baby"
The very thought of what that entails sends you into a second orgasm.
"s'that it? You wanna taste daddy, bunny? Touch me where no one else has? Hm? Just my bunny putting her cute little tongue on my-
"FUUCCCKKKKKKK" You fall forward and love being smothered by him, lying flat on your tummy while he mounts you from behind letting his full body collapse on you.
"So little under me, no where to run, you make me wanna breed you when you're like this baby, wanna give you all of my cum.
"Bucky-Buckyy!" Your muffled screams and taut body have him pounding you harder, your orgasm squeezing cum out of his body even though he want's to hold it. You make it impossible He's still gonna talk you through it all while falling himself.
"I know, I know baby, feels good-s'good-oh God you're milking my cock bunny-fuckk" His hips stutter to a grind, "Shit I can't st-top, God y/n please-want it-need you" He's babbling at this point, the both of you utterly gone, floating in bliss. He's going to clean and take good good care of you, making a mental note of what he did to get you scream this time. He smirks to himself with his new information, next time he'd be more than happy to see you lose yourself while you play with and lick his-
Alright, that's enough.
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mattybsgroupie · 3 months
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trip | matt sturniolo
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contents: established relationship; fingering; p in v; creampie; cockwarming; use of “y/n”; soft dom!matt
- ♡ -
notes: hihihi two posts in a week whaaat! thank you a thousand times for almost 700 followers and all the love you guys have been giving me and my stories. this video was for us matt girlies and someone requested a story based on it ♡ it’s a bit short but i hope it’s up to your expectations! not proofread but enjoy, love you all
requested by: anon
- ♡ -
matt usually hated when people honked at his car - but tonight was different. as soon as he arrived at my front door, i heard the loud sound of his horn taking over the street and i didn’t even think before running downstairs.
as i opened the door, i could see matt taking quick steps towards my direction, biggest smile on his face. his arms wrapped around my waist and raised me off the ground, our hug getting tighter as if we had spent years apart, even though it was only five days.
“missed you. missed you so much” he muffled on the crook of my neck, allowing my feet meet the ground again, but not letting our bodies separate. i giggled, my hands going to the back of his neck, caressing his hair.
matt moved his head up to stare at me, blue eyes and pouty lips. i held his cheeks and brought his face closer to mine, quickly sealing our lips in a peck. he hadn’t loosen the grip on my waist and deepened the kiss, hands making their way to my ass, tugging his fingers on my skin as he slowly slid his tongue inside of my mouth, both of us already out of breath.
“i need you” matt whispered. “right now” he narrowed his eyes and looked down, tent start to form on his sweatpants.
“i could’ve helped you out even when you were away, you know that” i teased, my hand running down his chest to his boner, palming him over his pants.
“you know i can’t…” he bit his lower lip, speaking in a low tone so no one would hear him “can’t get off without you”. i grabbed his wrist and took the lead, walking inside the house and going upstairs. matt threw himself on my bed, holding his weight with his elbows, spreading his legs while i locked the door.
as i walked towards matt’s direction, i could see the grin on his face, showing the excitement for having me after a long week. before sitting down on his lap, i removed my t-shirt, exposing the new lingerie i had gotten just for him. i put both of my thighs on each side of his legs, sitting by his crotch.
one of matt’s hands went to my breasts, groping my tits and sticking his head in between them, muffling “fuck i missed your tits”. his lips started running on my skin and his digits went to my back, quickly untying my bra and letting my boobs fall freely onto his face. matt swirl his tongue around my nipple before hungrily sucking it - i couldn’t help but start grinding on his lap, feeling his hardened cock underneath my already wet pussy.
“your mouth- matt, gosh” i said, letting my head fall behind and arching my back so he’d have more access to my tits. “spent the week waiting for this”. he moved the kisses to my neck, sucking deeply enough to leave a hickey there. at this point, i was unashamedly humping him, but not really having any relief.
“fuck y/n, stop moving” i heard matt speak and slowed down my movements, my hands resting on his shoulders as i faced him. matt, however, looked away from me “i’m gonna- gonna cum in my pants if you keep on doing that” i raised my eyebrows and he knew i was mocking him - i wouldn't get mad if he did, but he felt beyond embarassed when those things happened ever once in a while.
“now that's enough young lady” he joked back, “you don't want this?” he asked, looking down his own torso, “then i'm gonna take a cold shower” and he tossed me out of his lap, letting me fall on the mattress. i whined in protest, standing on my knees on the bed and hugging him from behind.
i bit his ear and put my palms on his chest under his shirt, brushing my digits slightly over his nipples and receiving a gasp from him.
“want you” i said and he turned over to me, softly pushing my body so i’d lay on the bed. matt removed his shirt while one of his legs went in between my thighs, and soon his knee was pressing against my heat. i couldn’t help but moan when finally getting some friction “oh, gosh”
“what is it, sweetie? missed me?” i nodded, closing my eyes as he kept his movements, rubbing my cunt with his covered leg. i felt his lips attach to my breasts and one of his fingers went to the waistband of my shorts. i had forgotten i wasn’t wearing any panties, only realizing when matt groaned as he saw the wet patch forming under his eyes.
he gave me that puppy look, asking silently if he could remove my last piece of clothing. his knee went back to the mattress, holding his body up while he slowly removed my shorts, exposing my leaking pussy. “fuck, so pretty” he whispered.
one of matt’s fingers brushed over my clit and went down to my folds, rubbing my lower lips in a torturing pace. “f-faster” i complained, jointing my hips forward, trying to get closer to him.
“i’m gonna need you to help me out here, you gotta stop moving so i can stretch you up, baby. think you can do it?” he said so sweetly i wasn’t even mad - i just missed him, needed to feel him. “uh-uhum. yes, fuck”
“you get so tight when i’m not around, hm?” he talked to himself, boosting up his own ego - and he wasn’t wrong. “gotta open you up so i can fit my cock”
matt’s finger slowly entered my tight hole, making me clench my walls. his free hand went to my hip, strongly holding me against the mattress so i wouldn’t move around. i opened my mouth as he slid in another finger and matt kept on nodding his head, his blue eyes locked with mine, reassuring me i could take it. his thumb went to my clit, applying pressure and rubbing it in circles. i bit my lower lip as his strokes got faster, trying my best to stay quiet.
“nah, don’t hide it from me. be a good girl hm? wanna hear if you really missed me” and i immediately let out a groan, matt’s slender fingers curling inside of me and hitting my spot. i saw the smirk on his face before rolling my eyes back and letting my head fall down completely, relaxing my body as i felt my orgasm approaching.
“i can’t do this” matt breathed out, hovering his body over mine and stopping his movements. he was edging me for the second time at this point. “i really wanna make you cum babe, but you keep on moaning my name like that and my cock fucking hurts here” he explained himself, holding my thigh and slightly opening my legs.
my hands went to his lower back, playing with his waistband as he went on to kiss my neck. i helped him pull out his pants, the lack of underwear making his cock slap against his lower belly. matt held his hardened shaft and gave it few pumps before positioning himself in my entrance, teasing my hole with his leaking tip.
“f-fuck matt i’m s-so sensitive” i said, one of my hands resting on his shoulder while the other one caressed the bare skin of his chest.
“don’t need’a do anything. let me do it, i just need to feel you” matt said, putting a strand of hair behind my ear and sealing our lips in a kiss as he pushed his hips forward, his thick cock stretching my pussy. “you’re doing so good, taking me so well” he praised, not even fully in yet.
“you’re so- big!” i whined, trying to get used to his size again.
“keep looking at me huh?” wanna see your face when you cum” he spoke and i couldn’t do anything besides moaning as he started to fasten his pace, the knot on my lower belly begging to finally be released.
“f-fuck, i’m close” it only took a few more thrusts until matt spoke and i nodded, letting him now i wanted him just as much.
matt pounded into me mindlessly as he tried to reach his own high, the wet sounds of our skins slapping against each other taking over the room. i wrapped my legs around his waist, bringing him closer to me as he finally released the white ropes of cum inside of me, filling me up with his sticky spurt.
the feeling of having him like that once again threw me over the edge, my orgasm washing over me, making me arch my back and curl my toes - but not taking my eyes off of him. he collapsed over me, the weight of his body making my chest pant heavily as i gradually came back to my senses.
“you’re so pretty, so so beautiful” matt said, digits caressing my waist.
“you’re not…” i started, trying to catch my breath. “pulling out?” i asked, still feeling his veins pulsing inside my pussy.
“no” he responded, snuggling into me. “he missed you too much” matt talked about his cock. “we’re sleeping here tonight”.
- ♡ -
taglist (drop a 🌸!): @thepubeburgler @marselise @pearlzier @mattsfavbitchhh @her-favorite @bugeyedgrl @mattswhore-44 @sturncakez @riowritesitall @joemamaaa42069
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absfawn · 3 months
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bestfriend!abby who begrudgingly slaps on a fake smile every time you mention a woman you’ve gone on a random date with. she was always happy for you, or shown you in some way that she is happy and proud of you for stepping out your comfort zone and meeting new people, but deep down, it makes her more depressed the longer she thinks about it. each time you look her in the eye, describe how your date went and how happy you were that someone shared the same interests and loves as you, abby hummed and nodded along. too busy and focused on that smile of yours, the way you laugh quietly at something you’ve said, not that she pays attention to your words, more your facial expressions. she hates all of it. she loves to see you happy, but not with someone who isn’t her. she’s been in love with you since you both bought a shared apartment across from campus. she’s tired of not being the one to take you on a date. to make you laugh. to make you smile.
bestfriend!abby that same night, who feels completely pathetic when she finds herself in her bedroom, door locked, far away from you and music slightly louder than usual, with her hand down her pyjama shorts and head tilted back with parted lips and soft breaths ripping through her throat. she hates that this is what you do to her and have no idea. reducing her to a mess, touching herself when you’ve gone to bed. hates to feel so pathetic that she can’t go to bed without sinking her fingers into her cunt each night, chanting your name under her breath and pleading for you to do something, anything that can give her the release she wants oh so badly.
your name falls from her lips like a shared secret, the slick sounds her cunt was making had her ears ringing loudly and face flushed, almost burning. blonde hair creating a halo beneath her head and she whimpers at the mere thought of her fingers being replaced by yours when she curls them deep inside her cunt. how yours would feel hitting that spot that has her toes curling, back arching and eyes rolling. it makes her feel hotter, sinking more into the mattress.
“fuck, need you so bad” she whimpered out, screwing her eyes shut tightly. “need your fingers so bad, baby” her voice quivers, tears slowly welling up in her baby blue eyes the faster she fucks her fingers into her sopping pussy. her lips part and her moans slowly increase in volume. not scared in the slightest if she gets caught. 
her pussy flutters, tightens around her fingers and abby’s thighs tremble as her breath comes out in slow stutters, eyebrows furrowing and back arching more off the mattress when that familiar feeling pools in her lower stomach. “need to cum” is all she can choke out, free hand vice like gripping the sheet below her. “please let me cum for you, baby, please”
your name continues to fall from her lips so effortlessly, like all she could ever speak was your name, nothing else. she’s got her fingers so deep, still wishing and praying they were yours, against her g-spot, and it feels suddenly too late to think or do anything else when all she can get out is another chant of pleads mixed with your name as she gushes all over her fingers with a string of whimpers.
it’s different this time, it doesn’t stop after a few moments. the warm hot liquid continues soaking her sheets as her body convulses. all she sees is blindly, white steaming pleasure and your beautiful face as she squirts for the first time, ever.
her chest rises up and down quickly, her pants are heavy as she flutters her eyes open minutes later. crimson blush coating her face more once the final realisation kicks in that the thought of you alone had made her a mess that she squirted and made a complete mess in her bed. you didn’t even do anything and she’s fucked. fucked out in so many ways. 
all abby craves is to be fucked out by you instead.
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massive thank you to @andersonfilms and her juicy brain for helping me with this, and giving me the best and yummiest ideas. ily <3
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nereidprinc3ss · 4 months
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do you believe me now? | 6
in which spencer reid and inexperienced!fem reader are finally honest with each other. complete with tears and more than a few make-up kisses.
series masterlist
this series is 18+ warnings/tags: angst but mostly fluff, i think this qualifies as hurt/comfort, HHEHHEHHEH, lots of kissing, so cheesy, you jokingly imply he's a slut, i need him expeditiously a/n: thank you guys for being patient with me!! ilysm!! i edited this until i hated it but i hope it's satisfactory for YOU guys..... as always please please let me know what you think!! and i already started the next part hehehe
The car ride is the worst of your life. 
Neither of you speak. 
And you find yourself wishing, pleading to god that one of you will say something to fix this—but each minute ticks by and the streets get familiar and a quiet song ends and you realize you were silly to ever think a twenty minute car ride would change anything. 
Spencer was the luckiest you’d ever been and your relationship is floating away like a balloon you forgot to hold on to—nothing more than a red dot lost to the vast blue. 
Maybe for him it’s easier. You’re pretty sure it is, as you risk one or two glances at his unreadable profile that turn into lingering, obsessive looks because you’re panicking and realizing you’ll maybe never see him this close again. It’s funny and terrible how quickly you’re remembering what it was like to see him at the coffee shop for the first time—how he was nothing but a beautiful stranger, completely unknown to you and worlds away. Now you’ve had him, sort of, and you’re turning into the girl who could never have him all over again. 
When he turns onto your street reality begins to sink in. Your heart is a short fuse inside your chest as he pulls into a spot and parks the car. The rumble of the engine cuts. The headlights stay on. 
For a moment, everything is quiet. You wish you could insert your own reality into the silence—one where you’re simply enjoying each other’s company and there’s no sense of impending doom to take your breath away. 
“Do you want to talk?” Spencer asks, looking pointedly ahead where the lights shine off the back of some other person’s car. A wayward moth dips and swirls into the high beams. You watch Spencer track it with his eyes. 
“I’m not sure what to say,” you admit quietly. The weight of everything you’d like to say sits in your stomach like lead, too heavy to divulge. It’s only been a few weeks of having to carry the truth around with you and your muscles are already fatiguing. The idea of carrying it around indefinitely makes your eyes sting. You’re already exhausted. 
Maybe a stronger person would find that last bit of energy to make a final push, to save the relationship just before it falls apart. 
But you never claimed to be strong.
Deep down, you must’ve known you weren’t ready for a real relationship. You can’t handle all of this pretending to be okay with things that hurt. Even if that's the grown-up thing to do.
“I tried. I really did, I’m sorry—I’m—”
Before you can get the words out your throat tightens around them and you bury your face in your hands. 
The sound of his seatbelt unlocking and whirring back surprises you—but you’re even more surprised when he undoes yours. Still, you move your arm so it can snap back into place and then he’s pulling you into him. 
“It’s okay,” he murmurs, one hand on the back of your head as you lean over the small gap between the seats, unable to stop yourself from shedding more tears. “It’s not your fault. I’m sorry.”
He’s sorry. 
For not loving you?
If it’s not your fault he doesn’t love you back—then whose fault is it? Who’ll take the fall?
But still, he’s holding you so carefully, like you’re made of porcelain. Something to be protected. Or at the very least, something to be mourned even after it’s in pieces. 
As you lean against him, lulled by the slow in and out of his breath, the inverse of yours, and the way he slips his thumb over the back of your hair in silence for a few minutes—you wonder what’s missing. Why he’s not satisfied. 
“I don’t understand you.”
The words come out flat, muffled by his coat, garbled with leftover tears. 
“What was that?” Spencer asks gently, still playing with your hair. You sniffle, adjusting your head so your cheek is to his shoulder and your lips are no longer smushed. 
“I just… I want you to explain it to me.”
“Explain what?”
You sit up just enough to meet his eyes. The movement seems to take him by surprise, but he keeps his hands on you—one slipping to your cheek and the other still loyal to your back. He brushes his fingers over the delicate skin beneath your eye and you cover them with your own in an effort to get him to stop treating you so kindly. But even now, when you’re mad at him for being so gentle in the way that he hurts you, you can’t help but seek the familiar callus on the side of his trigger finger. It’s an odd thing to anticipate missing, but you’ll miss all of him. You can’t imagine holding a hand without that familiar anomaly—a cairn to show you where he’s been and who you’re holding. 
He curls his warm hand around yours and you hold your joined fist out for him in emphasis, speaking louder than either of you were prepared for. 
“This! You! I understand that we don’t feel the same way about each other and maybe I can’t change that. But then you do this and I don’t understand why. I don’t understand why this isn’t enough for you, because it’s enough for me, and I just—I don’t know what else I can give you. I don’t know what else there is. I don’t understand why I’m not... enough.” The tears are back and flowing freely, but you forge breathlessly ahead, because you’ve finally found a way to be honest and you’re not going to stop now. Spencer is frowning, lips parted and clearly confused or shocked or something, but you continue your confessional before he has the chance to interrupt. “I want to be enough, but you didn’t even give me the chance, and I don’t think it’s fair that we’re breaking up when you didn’t let me try. Maybe if you just told me, if you explained what’s missing I could fix it and you could love me back, and—please. I just want to try. Please, Spencer.”
A car engine revs somewhere far away, echoing down the street. It reverberates for several seconds, unimpeded by any other noise. Any word, any breath. 
His voice is thin when he responds a moment later, still studying your face with a kind of scrutiny that is so indecipherable you don’t know how you expect him to respond. 
“Love you back?”
You blink. 
Your stomach drops. 
For all that you’d revealed, for all that you’d willingly humiliated yourself with your pathetic supplication—you’d meant to keep that four letter word to yourself. 
What a way to make an exit from your relationship. 
Spencer is still looking at you, keeping you pinned to your seat, and as much as you wish it wasn’t the case he’s not going to let you off the hook this time. He’s going to demand an answer, and you have a 0% chance of bursting into mist before you have to provide an explanation, so you have no choice but to say something. 
What, exactly, you’re going to say—you don’t know. 
“I didn’t…”
“You didn’t mean it.”
The response comes so quickly, sharp as a slap, that you jump back slightly, a deep frown twisting your brow. Spencer makes no effort to keep his hand in yours as you slip from his grasp. 
“That’s not what I was—”
“Just say what you mean.” Silence. “Tell me.”
It’s like he’s got an ice pick to your chest. It’s like he wants you to humiliate yourself even further, to punish you for your messy indiscretions. 
“Spencer…”
It’s a warning. You’re giving him a chance to stop this before he hurts you sadistically. Before he becomes unrecognizable. 
He swallows. 
“Please.” And then, a second later, when you’re still trying to process the quiet pain in his voice and suddenly faced with the unexpected question of who is hurting who, “please, just… tell me if you meant it.”
For the first time tonight, you notice how exhausted he looks. Slightly gaunt, even paler than usual. Shadows pool deeper in the hollows of his face. His eyes look glossy, dark crescents below awaiting to catch tears you realize you’ve never seen fall. The tonal shift has you so disoriented, so out of your body like you’re seeing yourself in his own injuries—the truth becomes the only humane answer. Even if it hurts you.
“Yes. I meant it. You know I mean it.”
“I don’t know that,” he says on a shaky exhale. “How would I know that?”
And he’s got the ice pick back at your sternum. It’s tipped in poison. The mallet trembles in the air. So does your voice. 
“You told me you didn’t feel the same. You said it was new for me and different and I was going to make things complicated and you treated me like I was a stupid kid, and—and it doesn’t even matter. This was dumb. I’m sorry I said anything, I don’t… I don’t know what I’m doing. I just.. I can’t do this.”
You’re about to open the door, every muscle tense as you wonder what the hell is wrong with you. What reduced you to the weepy, pathetic girl, begging a boy to love her despite knowing it doesn’t work like that—the same girl you’ve looked down your nose at in every film and TV show and in every high school and college hallway since you learned what self-superiority meant. Before you knew exactly what it felt like to be her. 
“Wait.”
He says your name.  
And of course you pause. 
You want a reason to stay. If you had more self-respect, you wouldn’t. But you know you’ll give him as many chances to give you an excuse as he’s willing to take. You knew that before your fingers met the metal of the door handle. 
“Just—hold on a second. Can you look at me?” 
You sniffle and wipe your eyes with the heel of your palm before turning around to face him once more. You wonder if anyone will ever have the kind of power he has over you ever again. 
The despair leaves only wisps of itself on his face—mostly he looks like he’s thinking hard about something. It’s jarring. 
“You’re talking about our phone call on Sunday, right?”
You nod petulantly with a quick teary eye-roll because obviously that’s what you’re talking about. 
Something lights in his own dark eyes as he inhales, parts his lips as if to speak, and stops himself again. Like he’s got news that he’s not sure how to break. 
“The things I said, on that call… I wasn’t talking… about you.”
Your insides feel like tangled yarn as you stare at him uncomprehendingly. 
“I mean, I was. I was talking about us. But not in the way you think, it was—” he stops, rubbing his eyes and taking a frazzled breath. “I know what it’s like to be the one who cares more. I have to assume that I’m the one who cares more because when I don’t, I ruin things. And with you, I felt like—the stakes were so high, and I thought it’d be safer for me to not say anything until I knew you felt the same. But I know that’s not fair to you so I tried to tell you over the phone that if you didn’t feel the same way it was okay. And now I’m—I’m realizing the way I phrased it was incredibly unclear and misleading, and somehow I fucked it up in a completely new way. But I wasn’t referring to you. I just didn’t want you to feel stuck with someone who can’t give you casual when you have so much ahead of you. I had no idea you felt that way about me. And I am so, so sorry that I hurt you. I never meant for that to happen.”
You blink. 
And for some reason, begin sobbing. 
Spencer freezes for a moment, then tells you to stay there and you barely have the capacity to wonder what he means as you hear his own door opening then slamming shut again. A moment later he’s on the passenger side, opening your door and leaning in. 
“Hey,” he whispers, gently pulling your hands from your face and making you turn your head to look at him. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. But that’s good news, right? Why all the tears, lovely? What’s wrong? Please talk to me.”
You take a shuddering breath. 
“This is all my fault, I ruined everything because I was too scared to tell you before and now—and now—”
Stroking your cheeks to wipe away the tears is a futile effort because they just keep coming, but Spencer does it anyway, and he speaks so kindly, so evenly it somehow hurts deeper. 
You were terrible to him. And he had been prepared to accept that. He thought you didn’t love him, and he was still willing to be the subject of all your cryptic frostiness and inexplicable cruelty. 
“It is not your fault. You didn’t ruin anything. I’m still right here. We’re okay.”
“But we’re breaking up, and—and I was so mean to you. That’s not okay, Spencer.”
You finally look at him. He’s close, eyes warm and wide as he looks directly into your own teary gaze, shaking his head earnestly. 
“You were confused, honey. So was I. It was just a misunderstanding. But… I know I was unkind to you. I cannot express how sorry I am for that, and the last thing I want is for us to break up, but if you think that’s what’s best, I’ll… I’ll understand.”
His voice is dangerously thin by the end, strained with impending tears of his own. But he’s eternally kind—backlit by the streetlamps and beautiful like an angel.  Whatever you want, he’ll give you. Even if it’s this. 
“I don’t want that. I don’t.” You sigh, closing your eyes briefly against the world as you realize the impending breakup had been a delusion all along. That you were going to let your insecurities and some sick pride end the relationship for you. All that despair had been for nothing. Or—maybe not nothing. You realize he still hasn’t said it back. But you won’t be a coward. It’s not worth losing him. You open your eyes.  “I just—I want us to be on the same page. And if you don’t love me yet or if you don’t wanna say it, or if you can’t, I get it—it’s okay, but if you don’t could you maybe just tell me? So that I’ll know—”
Before you can process it Spencer is leaning in, head angled to accommodate you, pressing his lips to yours so softly your breath catches and your stomach flips. Maybe softer than he ever has before, and it’s like taking a deep breath after holding it through a dark tunnel. You exhale a tentatively soft sigh against him, releasing air you don't have along with the fraught tension in most of your body. All too quickly he’s pulling away, hands still cupping your cheeks and thumbs stroking over your skin. When he speaks it’s not quite a whisper, but secret-soft. 
“How could I not be so in love with you?” 
Suddenly you can feel the world turning underneath you. Or maybe you’re just dizzy from lack of oxygen. Either way it feels good. A drop of warmth makes a splash in your stomach and slowly spreads through every vein and capillary until you’re sure you’re glowing gold. 
“Really?”
“Of course really. I’m—” he takes a breath of his own, and you realize how difficult this must be after what happened the last time he professed his love for a girl. Your chest aches for him. His voice is low and solicitous, but it wavers slightly. “I should have told you sooner. I wanted to, but I was worried—I was worried the way I felt for you was… too much. I am so in love with you it scares me. I still don’t know what to say or how to act around you. When I’m gone, sometimes I imagine quitting my job, just so I can come home and see you sooner. When I have a gun in my hands, I start thinking about all the things I would do to keep you safe, or—or just because you asked me to. And if what you wanted was for me to leave you alone, I would have done that. If you wanted me to drop everything and everyone to be with you I would have done that. And I know you’d never ask those things of me. But any of them, I’d do in a heartbeat. Which is… it’s a little scary, huh?”
The final sentence is a nervous self-effacing chuckle, which you can match in sound only—one breathy attempt at a laugh from your slackened jaw. 
When that’s the only response you can manage, he clears his throat. 
“Too honest?”
You shake your head as if in a fog. 
“No. Not too honest. But I’m just… I’m trying not to cry again.”
He smooths over your hair fondly. His own eyes are shiny and full of wonder as he studies you for a short while, like you're doing something much more awe-inspiring than sniffling in the passenger seat of his car. Then one hand is dropped to your shoulder and the other braced against your seat back. Finally, he pulls back to a more reasonable distance with a shaky sigh. It’s a sound of relief. You want to hug him, and all the past hims who have ever been hurt by anyone. 
“You, um—you need to rehydrate. Do you have anything that will rebalance your electrolytes? If you don’t I can go to the store—”
“You don’t need to do that,” you assure him with a small, watery laugh, loosely grabbing the wrist that brushes your shoulder. 
“But you need to take care of yourself. And I know you haven’t been drinking enough water because you never do.”
There’s a lingering overwrought shakiness to his voice, but it’s still the most relaxed he’s sounded since he came home, and you realize that the worst is behind you. The storm that you’d been so sure you couldn’t weather is somehow clearing up. 
“I can’t believe we almost just broke up.”
He hangs his head, dropping it to the curve of your neck and groaning. 
“Don’t say that. Let’s not think about that right now. Just—” when he raises his head again, and shakes it slightly to get his hair out of his eyes, they’ve cleared, like he’s on a mission to change the subject. “Let’s go upstairs. Will you let me take care of you?”
You give him an exaggerated nod, still sniffing, and the smile that grows on his face is like seeing the sun rise above the ocean. You love his smile. You love him. 
Spencer kisses you on the cheek. 
“Okay. Let me lock the car and then we can go up.”
As soon as you get into your apartment and turn on the light Spencer goes to the kitchen. It’s a small unit, but antique and nice enough, though you prefer Spencer’s. There’s still some tension as you observe him filling a glass with water, kicking your boots off by the door—but not necessarily the bad kind. You’re not sure exactly what it is. 
“Where are you going?” He asks as you pass the kitchen area to turn on a standing lamp in the opposite corner of the room. 
“I don’t like the big light.” A warm glow emanates through stained glass as you flick it on. 
“I know that. I just didn’t realize it was a higher priority than your wellbeing.” His tone is sardonic but he’s already switching off the overhead lighting for you. You give him a wry smirk as you finally approach and take the proffered glass from his waiting hand. 
“Ambience over everything, baby.”
His brows pinch at the cavalier sentiment—you never call him baby, so you're sure he knows it’s a joke—and he shakes his head with a humorous little huff of air through his nose, watching as you drink deeply. Your hand is shaking. Spencer notices and covers it with both of his, taking the half empty glass with one and grabbing your hand with the other. 
“Adrenaline,” he murmurs, kissing your knuckles. “It’ll go away soon. Did you get enough?”
You nod, smiling small but genuinely. Emotionally exhausted or not, you’re happy. 
Spencer strays, not far, to set the glass on the counter. Then he turns to face you, bracing his palms on the ledge and just watching you for a moment with the kind of smile that makes you nervous in the best way.
He beckons you to him with nothing more than a quick tilt of his head, and you shuffle across the floor in your socks til you’re toe to toe. Without your shoes on, he feels much taller. Still he just watches you for a moment—not that you mind. Your view isn’t half-bad. The faint warm glow from the lamp casts shadows over his face, highlighting all the perfect angles, deep brown eyes framed by dark lashes, and lips that still make you feel like a girl with a crush when you look at him. His hair is getting long. You’re unreasonably glad you still get to look at him like this. 
“Hi,” you whisper—something about the intimate dark of the room feels like a place for secrets. 
“Hi, pretty.” Spencer tucks hair behind your ear, eyes soft wherever they focus on your face like if he even looks at you too sharply you might break. “Have I told you how much I missed you while I was gone?”
He knows he hasn’t.
“Even when I was being a heinous bitch?”
Spencer laughs and it makes you smile too. The way his smile changes the landscape of his whole face will never feel any less like observing a natural phenomenon. It’s unfair how beautiful he is, and how you’re keeping him all to yourself in the dark on the fourth floor of an apartment building in DC. 
“Even then. Not sure that’s the wording I would have used.”
“I missed you too,” you admit softly. 
He maps your face with wandering eyes like he’s done a hundred times. Vaguely you wonder if he sees the same kind of beauty in you that you see in him. If he sees landmarks in your flaws and stars beyond the observable universe in your eyes. 
Spencer sweeps your hair over your shoulder, fingertips grazing your neck. 
“Can I kiss you?” He murmurs. 
Butterflies fill your stomach and you nod shyly, unsure of what would come out if you tried to speak.
His free hand settles on your lower back and brings you into him until you’re chest to chest. With his other on your jaw, he bows his head, and you angle yours up, allowing your eyes to flutter shut. 
Spencer kisses you so gently it aches in your chest, still cupping your face and stroking your cheek. You can’t help wrapping your arms around his middle—before he’s pulling away far too soon. 
And he’s laughing. 
“What were you drinking?”
You frown, flustered and trying to remember a time before his lips were on yours.
“Water.”
“Before that, baby. At the bar.”
You think back even further, head muddled even more by the endearment so that it takes you a moment to recall. 
“A Shirley Temple. Derek brought it to me. Why? Is that bad?”
“No,” he says, still smiling as his lips brush yours. “You’re perfect. You taste like candy. It’s cute.”
Oh. You feel warm as he presses another kiss to your lips—and this time you insist on him staying awhile. He’s happy to oblige. 
Spencer kisses you soft and careful at first, and then deeper, but still so slow, until you can’t help the way you’re bunching the fabric of his shirt between your fingers and rising on your toes to try and get impossibly closer. He kisses you the way you’ve been needing him to since he left, long and unhurried and sweet—and takes everything you give him, siphoning away all your leftover turmoil and angst until you’re weightless. You’re deprived of oxygen, you’re dizzy, and you don’t care at all. 
“I love you,” you breathe against him before he captures your lips again with a hum that flips your stomach, his hand rubbing over your hip. 
“Say it again,” he mutters against your mouth a second later, brushing hair away from your face. 
It comes out a little mumbled this time between kisses, but it comes out all the same. 
“Love you.”
He sighs into you—relief that mirrors your own. 
“I love you.”
It seems like the kind of thing that will never stop sounding perfect from his lips. 
A final deep kiss shortens into a series of smaller ones, and then he’s pulling away slowly, brushing the corner of your mouth affectionately. 
Both of you require a few deep breaths—a moment to let your sparkling eyes wildly chart each familiar curve and convex and shade and shadow of the other’s face—before either of you can speak. Spencer breaks the silence first. 
“I’m sorry.”
You frown, stirred from your brainless bliss by his unexpected apology. 
“For what?”
The fiery glow in his eyes dampens slightly. 
“For what I said at the bar.”
Oh.
That.
It feels like a lifetime away—memories seen through someone else’s eyes. Words like blows from a less familiar mouth. 
You look away. For a while, you’d forgotten about that. Ideally he wouldn’t have reminded you. 
At least he doesn’t make you look at him. He just strokes your hair, watching you examine the tiled counter. His voice is soft and soothing, like he’s appealing to a scared rabbit. Or maybe something angrier and with more teeth. 
“You’re not immature, or badly behaved, or thoughtless. I was having an emotional reaction, I got defensive, and I lashed out. It was unfair and unkind of me to throw those things back in your face when I know how much trust it takes for you to be vulnerable with me. There’s nothing I can say or do that will adequately make up for that, but I want you to understand that I didn’t say any of it because it was the truth. I said it because I didn’t understand how you were feeling and I was hurt. I was insecure and I acted juvenile. I am so, so sorry, honey. You don’t have to forgive me, but you do need to know that none of it is true.”
Once you bite your lip long enough to be sure you won’t cry again, you speak. 
“It’s okay,” you insist with a cheerfulness as natural as hard plastic, something in your chest twinging. “I was mean too. Like you said, we were both confused.”
“It is not. I made you cry.”
Sometimes you forget that he’s not like other people. He’ll never accept anything less than the barest truth. So you look back up at him and speak with a level of honesty that you hope satisfies him. 
“I forgive you. You didn’t mean it. And I have insurance because Derek said he and Emily would kick your ass if you’re mean to me again.”
You hear the sad humor in his voice. His hand runs up and down your back. 
“If I’m ever mean to you again, I personally invite you to kick my ass. And then let Derek and Emily have their turn.” He thumbs at your cheek, studying you in silence for a moment. “I can’t tell you how much I wish I could take it back.”
You stand up a little straighter. Spencer tracks you with his eyes, noting the way you smile slightly. 
“You’ll find a way to make it up to me.”
“I’ll do anything for you,” he admits, barely a whisper and the truth of it so heavy you can feel it too. 
But for tonight you can’t contend with more weight. 
“You know what you could do right now?”
The mischief in your tone is obvious, and he hesitates, like he’s not sure he wants to let you move on from this so quickly. But eventually he plays along, pressing his thumb into the dip of your back and speaks lowly, just as you’d hoped he would. 
“What’s that?”
You smile slyly. 
“You could kiss me again.”
“Hm… I don’t know, three times in one night? Sounds a little excessive.”
“Do you want to be forgiven or not?” You huff. He smiles lazily, already dipping his head to press his lips to yours. 
“I thought I was already forgiven.”
“Apologies can be retracted.”
“Ah.” His next words are mumbled as his lips ghost yours. “Well we wouldn’t want that.”
Spencer puts you out of your misery, not bothering to warm you up to it before he’s kissing you with a deep need. It’s still languid, and not hungry, exactly—it’s more like an aching, mind-numbing thirst. It’s all-consuming, overwhelming to have all of his burning focus pinpointed on you like this. Both hands come to cup your face and you wonder if he wants you in ways that he doesn’t entirely understand, just as you want him. You wonder if anything could possibly sate this desire to possess him completely and for him to possess you, to trade corporeal forms—or if it’s just something you’ll have to live with like a metaphysical itch you can’t scratch. As he forces you to tip your head back for him, using his height to his advantage, breathing deeply against you and attempting to push himself impossibly closer, you begin to think he understands exactly how you feel. 
As soon as you’d sensed he wanted it, your lips had parted for him. He knows he could have any part of you. He knows how eager you are to give yourself to him. You’ve done everything to prove it, and yet you’ve never needed him quite like you do ask he pushes off the counter and slowly backs you against the wall, protecting your head with a hand as the paintings rattle ever so slightly. You gasp into his mouth and he kisses you greedier still, but his hands don’t stray from your cheeks. 
Not until, that is, you hook your right leg around his left, and he catches it, fingers wrapping under the bend of your knee. 
Never in your life have you regretted picking jeans rather than a skirt more than you do right now. 
But to your disappointment, Spencer slows down to a halt—pulling his lips from yours like they’d been stuck by molasses until he’s far enough away to study you wildly, panting just as you are. His hair hangs over his smoldering eyes. He’s disheveled. It’s sexy. 
“What?” You whisper, voice surprisingly hoarse.
He looses a dry, abashed laugh. The flush he’s sporting is incredibly charming. 
“I’m supposed to be playing nice with you.”
Spencer says it like it’s a mild hindrance. Something frissons in your core. You smile a little wider as you continue to catch your breath, which seems to please him. 
“Playing nice?”
“Being gentle. I’m not supposed to push my favorite things against walls when they’re delicate.”
Your face heats at the way he speaks of you—if it weren’t Spencer, if you didn’t know he really doesn’t think of you as an object, you’d be pissed. But instead all you can think about is how good it feels when he calls you his. 
“According to who?”
His eyes dart between yours and then down to your lips several times before he averts them to the wall beside you with an intensity that could burn holes through the plaster. Is that how he looks at you?
“According to me. I think… god, you're going to hate me for this. But I think I need you to kick me out.”
You drop your leg at the same time as you do your heart. 
“What?”
“I know,” he says, over-apologetically, “I know, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let that escalate. But we can’t… do anything tonight.” Before you can protest, he rushes to explain himself. “It’s just that it’s been a long day. It’s been a long week, actually, and I doubt either of us have slept very much, and I think you’re really drained, and probably not thinking super clearly. I don’t think you’re in the best place for decision making.”
You look pointedly down to where he still has you pressed to the wall. 
“I think I’m in a great place.”
At that he steps back, but lets his hands find yours and pulls you away from the wall—just not quite as close as before. His nose bumps against yours as he speaks low and sweet. 
“I understand that you want me to stay right now. But it’s not a good idea to associate fighting with physical pleasure. That can set some really dangerous patterns.”
“We’re not fighting,” you plead, matching his tone as you look up at him with big eyes. His fingers lace with yours. 
“You’re right. Maybe fighting was the wrong word. But we had some pretty intense conversations today, didn’t we?”
Reluctantly you nod. 
“Right,” he agrees. “Same premise. We need to be able to have those conversations without getting distracted.”
In a last ditch attempt to get him to change his mind, you give him your best approximation of the imploring, wide-eyed gaze he sometimes uses on you. Something not entirely smile and not entirely smirk twists the corners of his mouth. When he ducks down to kiss you quickly, you reciprocate, but you lack the enthusiasm of earlier. 
“Hey.” 
“Hm,” you respond, dejectedly. 
“Don’t get all grumpy because I don’t put out.”
That puts a disgruntled little smile on your face as he probably knew it would. 
“I guess you just gave it up easy to all those other women.”
He grabs your chin and gives you a final peck. 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve never been with other women.”
“Mhm,” you grumble good-naturedly, pushing away from him and going to the door to undo the deadbolt. “Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.”
“Wow. I really must have overstayed my welcome if that’s the goodbye I get.”
You turn back around, brows raised. 
“Oh, I was prepared to be very welcoming. This is your doing.”
“Uh-huh. Come here.”
Happily you skitter back across the few feet of wooden flooring and wrap your arms tightly around him one more time, pressing your cheek to his chest. He’s ready, winding his arms over yours and rubbing your back. It’s eerily similar, you realize as he presses his face into the concave of your shoulder, to when he’d left on that most recent case. 
But at the same time—everything’s different. 
And you won’t make the same mistake twice. 
“Hey,” you smile, resting your head on his shoulder. Spencer pulls back to look at you, a similar grin on his face. 
“Hey what?”
“I remembered what I was gonna say.”
The grin widens. He knows exactly what you’re talking about. 
“Tell me.”
“I was going to tell you that I love you. And—I hope you’re not one of those people who’s uncomfortable being told that often. Because if that’s the case I’m really going to annoy you.”
“I’m not that kind of person,” he assures. “Tell me as often as you can.”
“But you should say it back. It’s more polite that way.”
“I love you,” he murmurs, in a voice more serious than your teasing tones had been but still soft and sweet around the edges. “You know, people talk about love as if it’s completely irrational and illogical. But with you… I think the world actually makes more sense than it used to. I understand things I never did before. You’ve taught me a lot.”
It’s like a lightshow in your stomach. You wonder if he has any idea the effect his casual musings have on you.
“You already knew everything.”
“Not everything,” Spencer whispers. “Not about the things that matter.”
And you’re fresh out of teases. All you can do is look up at him with big eyes again, in awe of the fact that you get to keep him after all. 
“Will you text me when you get home?” You request, voice reverent in the wake of an admission you could never hope to top. 
“I will. I’ll see you tomorrow?”
You nod, because it doesn’t even matter if you had other plans tomorrow. They’re as good as cancelled. 
Spencer kisses your cheek, and you get the sense that things are still being left unfinished. There’s an unresolved tension that you can’t shake, even after all the apologies and kisses and sweet words. Still, he made a point with his talk about not mixing argument with pleasure, and you’d like to respect those wishes because you respect him—even if every atom of your being shakes with desire to keep him locked in your bedroom, hidden away from the world together, for as long as you can possibly manage. 
Eventually, you loosen your hold, and you let him go. He lingers at the door, hands in his pockets, just watching you and mirroring your small smile as you hold onto the counter with an iron grip to keep yourself in check. After he finally peels his gaze away from yours and silently closes the door behind him, you stand there, staring at the wood for at least a minute.
Once you manage to shake yourself from your revery with a deep breath, you grab your glass from earlier and stand in front of the sink, watching it fill with a white jet of water. It’d be a shame to admit it to him, but maybe Spencer is right. Maybe you do need time to emotionally digest today. After all—that was technically your first argument. It seems to have left you sort of wound up. Not in a bad way, per se—maybe you just need to take a shower, let the hot water roll over your shoulders and wash away the frenetic energy that clings to you. 
Still, something tells you that you won’t be getting much sleep tonight, even if you do take the world’s longest shower. You’re simply too high-strung. You wonder if having Spencer here would fix that or make it worse. But ultimately, he’d made the call that it was a bad idea for him to stay, and you’re generally inclined to trust his judgement. 
The thought makes you laugh into your cup as you drink. Even after the debacle that was the past week, you trust him to know what he’s doing. Maybe you need to rethink that, at least temporarily, until he’s had a chance to redeem himself. 
Just then, your front door is opening with absolutely zero warning and slamming shut again before you can finish whipping around. Your heart threatens to choke you and you almost drop your glass, clutching your chest. 
“Jesus, you—”
But the words die in your throat as Spencer storms toward you, shrugging his coat off with a white-hot chill in his eyes. It’s enough to freeze you in place, heart drumming against the confines of your ribs. 
“You really need to start locking that door,” he breathes, tossing his jacket on the counter before grabbing your face and crashing his lips into yours, palms pressed to your jaw and fingers pushing into your hair. You stand there, hands hovering in air before you gain the wherewithal to blindly set the glass down behind you. Your heart is pounding as you immediately submit to the kiss, whining softly against his lips and cautiously seeking stability in the fabric of his shirt. Spencer pulls away only briefly, allowing you to gasp for much-needed air. His brown eyes are like molten gold on you, pupils blown wide and wild as he scans your face, taking heavy breaths of his own. “Anyone could just walk in.”
-
part seven
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bueckers · 2 months
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UNFINISHED BUSINESS ━━━ paige bueckers
i don’t wanna fight, but you got the wrong vibes. let me get you right, it’s how i apologize. ✶
synopsis: she broke it off, but has since had a hard time leaving her alone… especially when having to see her in person.
pairing: paige bueckers x fem oc
warnings: smut with plot, p eating ( p is literally EATING ), fingering, thigh riding, and slight angst.
notes: this is ridiculously long. in honor of her fit here, enjoy.. i loved writing this almost as much as i love the song lol. lmk if i should make a part two or maybe a series!
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Nervous, excited, and borderline bald from tugging at my hair—these were all the things I had felt the moment I stepped into the WNBA 2024 All-Star Game.
I would be seeing Paige tonight. Paige would be seeing me tonight. Paige knew I knew she would be seeing me tonight, and I knew Paige knew she would be seeing me tonight.
When Paige and I first started hooking up, it was never supposed to be anything serious. She was sidelined with a torn ACL, and I knew she was in a dark place, struggling with everything that came with being forced off the court. I think that’s why it started, honestly. She needed an escape, something to make her forget for a little while, and I was there.
Paige and I have known of each other for years, though. We both came up in the basketball world at the same time, our names being tossed around in the same circles since high school. We’d cross paths at AAU tournaments and national showcases, always on different teams but always aware of each other.
Back then, our support for each other was more from a distance, and it wasn’t until college that things started to shift. We crossed paths more often, whether it was at games, media events. The rivalry between our schools added a new layer to our interactions, but by then, we had leveled up from distant competitors to something more like casual friends.
Those moments were what led us to where we eventually ended up. The more we talked, the more we realized how much we actually had in common—our experiences, our struggles, the pressure to perform, and the constant scrutiny. It felt natural, easy, to let our guard down with each other, which is why when her injury happened and everything else in her life felt like it was falling apart, I wasn’t surprised when we fell into it.
We had an agreement. Not one that was ever talked about soberly, but the way it happened just fell into place so perfectly that we didn’t need to. We’d meet up when it was needed, no commitments, no expectations. Just two people finding comfort in each other, filling a void that we couldn’t fill on our own. It was convenient, effortless, and most importantly, it worked for the both of us. I guess I figured if I kept things casual, I wouldn’t get caught up in something messy. I didn’t want to be the one to complicate her life even more.
We’d cross paths after games, during off-season, or whenever our schedules aligned, slipping into each other’s lives for a few hours at a time. She knew how to keep me at arm’s length, just close enough to keep me coming back but far enough to never let me in too deep. She knew exactly how to make me feel needed without ever giving too much of herself away. It was maddening, really—how she could be so vulnerable one minute, showing me sides of herself that no one else got to see, and then switch off just as quickly.
The more we hooked up, the more I started to realize I was getting too close. I could see it in the way she’d look at me sometimes, like she knew I was starting to care too much. And the worst part was, she didn’t seem to mind pushing me right to that edge. She’d say something that made my heart race, or she’d touch me in a way that felt like it meant something, only to pull back and remind me of our status. She was always in control, always the one with the upper hand, and I hated how easily I let her have it.
And then it was all done. She cut things off with a cold finality that I still can’t even believe. No explanation, no soft letdown—just a sudden, brutal end. It was like she knew exactly when I’d reached that point and she didn’t hesitate to remind me that it was never supposed to mean anything at all.
“I’m gonna go grab some snacks, alright? Try to look a little more happy for the jumbotron,” JuJu teases, getting up from her seat. I gasped, barely having any time to process her insult as she scooted between me to get to the stadium stairs.
“Very funny,” I muttered, watching her walk away.
Alone now, I focused on the game, doing an extremely good job at hiding the gnawing in my chest. I’d say I have a good poker face, but Paige would agree to disagree. My phone buzzed, jolting me from my thoughts. It was her and she’d finally found you. She was on the other side of the arena, clearly getting a kick out of having you in her view.
you mad at me or just deep in thought?
I rolled my eyes back to the deep depths of hell. Another text from her.
you look good tonight
you too. how’s the game?
As soon as I hit send, I regret it. I should have ignored her. I should have said something snarky.
Her reply comes almost immediately.
could be better. thought about coming over
what stopped you?
You watched her text bubble practically stutter, making you quirk an eyebrow.
juju. i didn’t wanna make it awkward.
lol. okay.
actually, scratch that. leave w me.
I shifted in my seat, my hands suddenly clutching my phone a little tighter.
paige, no.
why not?
I shut off my phone just in time for JuJu’s return, watching as she squeezed through mounds of people to get back to me. She handed me a cherry slurpee, which would however be gone in ten minutes.
“Thanks, sugar,” you teased her, wrapping your lips around the straw and taking a nice, long sip. She shook her head at me as she focused on the game again, nachos in hand. Ping.
Tell her don’t get too comfortable 😂
I could even feel her eyes boring into me from the other side. I could picture the stupid smirk or gummy smile she’d have. I turned my ringer off and silenced Paige’s notifications before slipping my phone into my back pocket and reverting my attention back to the game. It’s almost over.
Fast forward to the final buzzer, and Juju and I made our way down to the court, weaving through the crowd of fans and players. I always loved the energy in a room of women’s basketball players and fans— there were always a million things going on at once. As we reached the court, we spotted Caitlin, who was already deep in conversation with a couple of other players.
“Great game, Cait,” I said, pulling her into a light hug. “Guess nobody busts your butt as good as SC, huh?” I pulled back first, resting my hands on my hips. I could say I’ve known Caitlin as long as I have Paige, but Cait doesn’t know me the way Paige does.
Caitlin laughed, rolling her eyes good-naturedly. “Yeah, yeah, Miss Championship. but don’t get too cocky now.”
Juju laughed alongside me, adding a quick comment about how USC would give her a run for her money next time. The conversation flowed easily, a mix of post-game analysis and friendly banter. I scanned the court for a brief moment, knowing exactly who I was looking for.
Sure enough, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Flau’jae and Paige making their way over. I braced myself, knowing the cameras would be all over this reunion, and the media would have a field day with it. Paige looked as confident as ever, her stride always one that grabbed attention.
“Hey, y’all,” Paige said, her voice smooth, effortless. She exchanged hugs and high-fives with everyone, her presence commanding attention as always. When she reached me, she didn’t hesitate to pull me into a hug, her hand resting on my hip before snaking around to my lower back.
And then I felt it—her hand slipping lower, fingers grazing the fabric of my mini skirt. I could hear the smirk in her voice as she leaned in, her breath warm against my ear. “Good to see you.” Just close enough to keep me coming back.
I pulled back slightly, meeting her eyes. There was that smirk. My heart was pounding, a mix of frustration and something else I didn’t want to acknowledge. “You too,” I managed, keeping my tone as neutral as possible, pulling back with a tight-lipped grin that looked friendly enough to anyone who didn’t know what was going on. Which was everyone.
The group continued chatting, oblivious, obviously. You’d found out the one thing you hated about being around Paige was the overwhelming current of being the only ones in the room who knew how each other was feeling. Paige, ever the actor, kept up her usual easygoing demeanor, but I could feel her gaze on me, like she was waiting for something. I tried to focus on the conversation, but it was impossible with her so close, the warmth of her hand still lingering on my skin.
When the small talk finally wound down, and the others started drifting away, Paige moved closer, her eyes locked on mine. She leaned in again, her voice low, almost a whisper. “C’mon. Meet me,” she coaxed, her breath warm against my ear. Her fingers brushed lightly against my side, tracing a path.
I hesitated, the resolve I’d built up over the past hour crumbling under the weight of her presence. She was testing me, pushing every button she knew she could. And damn it, it was working.
I finally nodded, barely audible. “Okay.”
It was all she needed. A single, one-word confirmation that I wanted her as bad as she does. She took my phone out of my pocket for me, placing it my hand as she said her goodbyes to everyone else, leaving me there. I suppose it was smarter for her to do that anyway.
Shortly after Paige’s departure, I made my way out as well. JuJu wasn’t a tough barrier to get past. I told her to finish up her conversations, and that I’d see her back at the hotel. I wasn’t quite show how long my excuse would suffice, but I hoped she’d find her way to the bar or something after.
I don’t know why I listened. Watched my fingers click on her contact and give the driver her hotel’s address. It was like I was compelled from the moment she’d touched me, and to be honest, I don’t think I’d be surprised if that was the case.
The Uber ride felt interminable, each passing moment only heightening the anticipation and anxiety. I could barely focus on the city lights flashing by outside, my mind consumed with the impending confrontation and whatever would follow.
Finally, I was able to make my way to her room, feeling the cool air of the hallway against my skin as I knocked on the door. When Paige answered, her smile was as infuriatingly charming as ever, and she pulled me inside with a warm, yet testing glint in her eye.
The moment the door clicked shut behind us, Paige’s demeanor shifted. Before I could voice any protest, her lips were on mine, kissing me with an urgency that made my heart race. I barely had time to process the sudden change before she deepened the kiss, her hands roaming possessively over my back.
I tried to pull away, my mind still reeling from the fact that I was even here, but her grip tightened, pulling me closer. “Paige,” I murmured against her lips, trying to catch my breath. “We need to talk—” but as much as I tried to voice it, I knew that isn’t what we both really planned to do.
She silenced me with another intense kiss, her fingers tangling in my hair, guiding my head to tilt for better access. Her touch was relentless, her body pressing against mine with all the need in her body. “I don’t wanna fight,” she whispered between kisses, her breath hot and heavy against my skin. “Jus’ wanna be close to you.” She breathed in my scent, and I melted.
The words were almost lost in the heated moment, but I could feel the sincerity. She pulled back just enough to look into my eyes, her gaze smoldering with an intensity that made me rethink actually standing on business. She waited, trying to see if I was really against this. I licked my lips, glancing at hers.
I didn’t stand a chance.
Her lips found mine again, and the world narrowed to the press of our bodies. Our kisses were feverish and desperate, each touch holding some type of meaning. Paige’s hands roamed over my skin like there were so many options in a candy store and she couldn’t pick just one. In this case, one spot to focus on. Her mouth trailed down my collarbone, leaving a path of pinkish marks.
Our bodies were pressed together and refusing to let go. Paige guided me towards the bed, her hands never leaving my body, her lips continuing their assault on my skin. When she finally lowered me onto the bed, I was needy and breathless and finally feeling a little more realistic.
“P, I’m still mad,” I tried to insist, though my voice wavered as I watched her begin to undress. She unzipped her Nike vest slowly, the sound of the fabric sliding down her body making my pulse quicken. It fell to the floor, and she ripped off her shirt with a sudden, breathless intensity, revealing her sports bra. The sight of her, partially unclothed and vulnerable in front of me again left me speechless.
“I know,” she murmurs, her head slightly tilted as she looked at me all-knowingly. “And ima’ make it up to you, I promise. Just let me get you right.” Her fingers trailed up my bare legs, eliciting a small gasp from my lips. She tugged at the hem of my skirt, pulling the fabric down and grabbing my panties in the process. I watched her do it, in utter disbelief that this was how I was spending my night.
Her fingers graze teasingly against my kneecaps, sending shivers through my body, before she gently but firmly peels my legs apart. I look down at her. “You’re just trying to distract me,” I say, but there’s no heat behind the words.
Paige smirks, a knowing look in her eyes as she falls to her knees, her hands sliding over my thighs. “Maybe,” she admits, her voice dropping into a low, sultry tone as she tucks her lip between her teeth. “But you can’t say you don’t want this too.”
She’s right, and we both know it. The way she’s touching me, the way her eyes are locked onto mine with that look. The same one that knows she’s getting her way tonight. My worries seem so distant now, nothing more than a whisper of irritation in the back of my mind, easily drowned out by the way Paige’s hands are moving.
I begin to say something, but she easily cuts me off by diving into me with no warning, immediately humming against my cunt in satisfaction. Her eyebrows were furrowed as her tongue made some deliberate strokes, seemingly in disbelief of the way I tasted. She looks up at me as she delves in, a sight beautiful enough for the Louvre but way too sinful.
She says something I can’t hear, but I do catch a, “Can’t leave you alone, ever. Fuck.”
“Yeah?” I muster out, my breath a careless whisper.
Paige smiles against me, loving the cocky tone in my voice as she responds with a fast nod, the movement making me gasp. “Yeah.”
From there, every moan and gasp from me seems to fuel her desire, making her work even harder to drive me wild. Her hands grip my hips firmly, keeping me in place as her mouth and tongue continue their relentless assault. In the haze of ecstasy, all I can focus on is the feeling of her between my legs, making good on her promise to get me right, leaving me utterly consumed by the pleasure she’s giving.
I come, loud enough that the neighbors might know Paige’s name, but she keeps going. It becomes too much, enough for me to whine and pull away, scooting a little bit higher on the bed. She isn’t going for it, though, and immediately brings me back to her mouth, wrapping my legs in her thick arms.
“Where you tryna’ go, princess?” she teases. The sensation of her mouth and fingers on me is so intoxicating that I can barely respond before she pulls back entirely, rising to her feet. She begins to peel off her pants, her movements slow, leaving me breathless and frustrated.
“Seriously?” I complain.
“Chill,” she responds with a husky chuckle, towering over me in the sexiest way explainable. It’s like she contemplates something in her head for a moment, leaving me dripping wet and needy before her.
Finally, Paige steps closer, her hands sliding down to her sports bra. With a teasing glance, she pulls it off, revealing her bare chest. My eyes widen as I take in her form, unable to tear my gaze away. She then sits back down, positioning herself comfortably on the edge of the bed. “Want you to get on my thigh, baby, m’kay?” And there was no room for argument.
I crawl toward her, a mixture of urgency and anticipation in my movements. Once I’m seated on her thigh, I start to ride it slowly, the friction sending waves of pleasure through me. I truly can’t believe we haven’t done this before. The way she flexes, the way I can feel her muscle.. it’s all too much.
I roll my head back, needing more. My hands find Paige’s boxers, slipping into them with ease as she watches, her eyes moving more than her actual head. My fingers find their way to her core, exploring.
Paige’s breath hitches, her fingers gripping my hip as she watches me intently. “You like that, don’t you?” she breathes, her voice filled with a mixture of desire and all things Paige. “You’ve got me exactly where you want me.”
I stare at her. My body and arm moving repeatedly, my hair a bit puffy at this rate, and a panting mess. Paige raises her thumb to my plump and parted lips, slipping it in. I moan out, forced to suck around it as I squeeze my eyes shut.
Paige is in a trance, completely focused on the warmth around her thumb and how your small fingers disappear into her. “So, so, so good. Love seeing you above me, baby. So pretty.” I couldn’t understand how she could say things like these, and happen to not mean them, but it was the last thing on my mind.
“Mfmfmm, I’m gonna come. Again.”
Paige’s response is a series of breathy moans, her hands gripping my hips tightly as she keeps me pressed down, every thrust and touch pushing us both closer to the edge.
As she finally shudders, her release crashes over her like a tidal wave, her body trembling violently. The sensation of her coming around my fingers makes my own climax come shortly after. I cry out, my own pleasure peaking as I grind against her, my fingers thrusting in and out.
Our combined releases feel explosive, a storm of heat and passion that has us both gasping and moaning. I feel her tremors against my fingers as I continue to move, riding out the last waves of ecstasy before finally collapsing against her, both of us spent and tangled together in a sated, sweaty mess.
I think I’ll regret this in the morning. But right now? I’ve never been happier.
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lipringlrh · 4 months
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HE DOESN’T WANT ME WHEN HE’S SOBER PART 2 (LANDO ENDING)
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read: part one | logan ending
summary: lando’s your best friend but seems to like you when he’s drunk. but then again, he seems to like everyone when he’s drunk.
pairing: lando norris x gn!reader
wc: 1.8k
Lando wouldn’t admit it to anyone but that night was the worst sleep he’d ever had. He left as soon as he found out you’d left with Lily and Alex, and made his way to your house just to find out you weren’t there. He messaged Alex to get no response and contemplated waiting outside your door until you came back, whether it be days or months, he’d wait for you. But, after almost falling asleep numerous times and getting laughed at by a group of teenagers, he made his way back to his apartment, knowing you’d be looked after.
He was awake almost all night, messaging and calling you and regretting everything in its entirety. He didn’t fully know if you had even seen him kiss the person that resembled you, he only felt it deep down, but even if you hadn’t, he shouldn’t have done it, and he could never apologise enough. He thought of how to explain his thoughts but nothing would suffice; nothing would ever be able to explain how he felt.
At some point in the early hours, he finally drifted off, but awoke not much later to an aggressive banging on his door and a voice screaming at him to hurry up. He wished the voice was you but it wasn’t and he hated it. He rushed to his door, barely having time to pull on some grey joggers before opening it to an angry Alex, very close to breaking the door down.
“Are you stupid?” Alex questioned, fuming, pushing his way into Lando’s house, “I know that you’re in love with her so what are you doing?”
Lando looked like a deer in headlights. He couldn’t explain his actions, he didn’t even want to think about them. All he remembered feeling was grief at watching you walk away, so when he found someone that looked eerily similar, he took the chance to kiss them and create the image in his mind of kissing you. It didn’t last long. He realised too quickly that they didn’t smell like you and the way they kissed wasn’t the same. He hated it, he didn’t want to kiss anyone but you.
“I know, I didn’t mean to-”
“What, you just tripped into her mouth then?” Alex questioned, pushing a finger against Lando’s chest.
“No- no. I don’t know why I did, I really love them I promise. We almost kissed but then they walked away, I was hurt, I didn’t think they wanted me,” Lando almost cried, his voice cracking.
“You do this every time you go out. You kiss her every time you go out and she follows, you don’t get to pull that card. You might be upset but I promise you’re not even feeling half of it,” Alex spat, not caring if he hurt Lando because he hurt you much more.
“Help me apologise. I need to apologise, please Alex, please help,” Lando begged, wanting you to more than anything, “Please Alex, I’ll do anything.”
Alex sighed. At that moment, he hated Lando for what he did, but he’d been wishing for you both to get together since he first saw you both together, making heart eyes at each other. He contemplated in his head whether to help or not. He always envisioned you together but always wanted what's best for you and right now he couldn’t tell if that was Lando or not. But looking at the state of him, red, wet eyes, begging for his help, he wanted to believe Lando regretted everything and would do anything to prove he loved you.
“Okay, but I’m not letting you be forgiven easily, I want you to prove it,” Alex sighed, running his hands over his face. A feeling of simultaneous relief and guilt eating him alive.
Lando promised Alex over and over again, and in between each syllable, promising himself also that he would give you the world in apologies, and whatever happened he deserved it, but even if there was the slimmest chance you could forgive him, Lando would take it and cherish it.
Alex messaged you and you told him it was fine to bring Lando over, as long as he didn’t expect much, and so they turned up less than five minutes later. Alex left you both alone in the kitchen to sit with Lily in the living room after repeating countless times he was a shout away.
You almost broke down just seeing him but managed to keep it in. You didn’t want him to explain, you didn’t care to hear it at the moment, but as soon as Alex left he began spilling out apologies and trying to explain himself, which you quickly shut up.
“I want some space,” you sighed. You wanted Lando close but you wanted everything you felt for him gone first. You couldn’t believe he ever felt the same, not after that.
“Of course, I understand,” his voice broke as he stepped back, trying to show you he would do anything you said.
“Not like that, Lando. I mean it, I don’t think I can see you for a while.”
“Oh-” he said, “When can I see you again?”
“I’m not sure, I’m sorry-”
“Don’t be, this is my fault,” he sighed, clearly upset and looking at the ground, “I’ll go, I’ll see you soon.”
After he left, you broke down crying, debating your decision on if you handled it right. You already missed him, and still loved him, but you also didn’t want to see him. Alex explained the whole morning, and his perspective, giving you hope you could fix it with Lando, especially after Alex’s approval, which you trusted more than anything.
The next few times you saw him were at hangouts with your shared friends. You knew he’d be there as none of your friends would invite him unless you were completely sure you didn’t mind him there. He stayed away, but didn’t make it awkward to the people around you, and always gave you a shy smile when you caught his eye.
He didn’t try to text or call again, despite wanting to more than anything, and instead waited for you to make the first move whenever you were ready. You had missed him more than anything, in both an “I love him” and “he’s my best friend” way, and it was killing you from being away from him, especially after how well he listened to your instructions.
You were at a mutual friend's get-together, a small barbecue in a back garden when you decided it was time. You had been debating texting him but after seeing him, you decided you couldn’t wait.
He was standing alone in a corner beside a flower patch and some grass, drink in hand, and surveying everyone that was there when you walked over. He didn’t know how to greet you and so awkwardly moved his hands between going for a hug or a handshake. You laughed and hugged him, both of you holding on tightly, unhappy to let go.
“I’ve missed you,” you whispered gently, looking down and playing with your fingers, slightly nervous to admit it to him after all this time.
“I’ve missed you too,” he grins, adding on, “So much,” with a quiet whisper.
“How’ve you been?” you asked, trying to make small talk before delving right in.
“Okay, I’ve not really done much. Races have been okay.”
“I saw,” you smiled, “You’ve done really well.”
“You watched?” he questioned, a little surprised. You met his eyes and nodded, explaining how you could never miss one.
“Do you want to talk inside?” you asked, heart pounding as you said it. He nodded immediately, without hesitation, and followed you in through the double glass doors into the kitchen, but only after picking out a daisy from the grass next to him and offering it out to you, causing both of you to grin.
He closed the doors behind you both, blocking out as much other noise as possible, ready for you to begin. “I want to know how you feel about this and about me,” you started, voice shaky.
“I’m sorry, I’m still so sorry. I love you and I want what’s best for you and I can’t even find an excuse, I was being stupid and thinking how you’d never want me. It was all nothing, you’re the only person that’s ever meant anything, I’m so sorry. I will do anything to fix this- anything.”
“Lan,” you let out a breath, “You still want me?”
“More than anything,” he grinned and you stepped forward to reach him, locking your arms around his neck.
Your fingers tangled themselves in his hair as you pull his face down until his lips are almost touching yours. He was smiling so much you thought it might be impossible to kiss him but you pulled him into you anyway, finally kissing him again.
“Stop smiling,” you laughed, pulling away to say it before immediately kissing him again.
“What? Can I not be happy? I’m getting my girl back,” he pulled away, grinning harder, then trying to drag you back in, which was almost successful until you pulled away at the last second.
“I can barely kiss you like this and I’d really, really like to,” you giggled, tugging him back again to enjoy another impatient kiss.
Your hands were running all over his head, completely ruining his hair, but he didn’t care. His hands were wrapped around your waist, holding you impossibly close. When you finally parted he still kept you close, resting his forehead on yours.
“Are you sure you want this?” he questioned, his breath still heavy.
You kissed his cheek and looked straight into his eyes, “More than anything, I promise,” you paused for a moment, “But you’re going to have to grovel to repay all the lost time we’ve had.”
“I’m going to prove to you that I’m all in, that I want this more than I could possibly explain,” Lando promised, meaning every word. He was already planning out exactly what he wanted to do - he knew he had to work to become your official boyfriend, but he would do everything possible for you.
You just stared at him, showcasing the biggest smile you’ve ever had, eyes full of love, knowing you weren’t ever going to let each other go or even risk it again.
“God I love you,” he grinned, ignoring the fact he still hadn’t caught his breath and pulling you into another, more intimate, kiss.
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