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obsesssedblerd · 7 months ago

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"Who's your new teacher?"

Synopsis: Toji meets Megumi's new preschool teacher and immediately develops a crush.

Pairings: single dad! toji x f! reader

Wc: 2.3K

Contains: plenty of fluff, crack, a tiny bit of angst, megumi is four, tsumiki is seven, toji is still toji (but like he's soft for his kids and he takes care of them), reader is a preschool teacher, reader and toji are around the same age, toji being soft, mentions of shiu, shiu and toji work together, shiu being an idiot (lol sorry he'll get love in another fic) , everyone is happy bc I said so

a/n: omg, first fic, we made it! barely proofread, sorry for mistakes. also, tysm for 1,000 followers here! the other two fics that were on that poll will be coming soon!

update: pt 2 here

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Toji’s Fushiguro’s muscles ache. The job he took was harder than he anticipated, and it took way longer than it was supposed to. After confirming that the payment from the job is in his account, he calls Shiu Kong so he could check in on the kids. “About damn time,” Shiu scoffs when the line connects. “I was beginning to think I wouldn’t hear from you until sunrise.”

“Job’s done,” Toji says as he gets into his car, settling into the drivers’ seat with an exhausted sigh. “I hear the TV in the background. Better be cartoons or something age-appropriate.”

Shiu laughs. “Of course, what else? ‘M not getting cussed out by you. Anyway, you comin’ back with Megumi? Can’t believe you took him on the job with you. Once you’re back, I can get out of here.”

Toji’s heart nearly stops. He sits up in his seat, gripping the phone so hard that the screen nearly cracks from his strength. “The fuck did you just say?”

“Huh?”

“Megumi isn’t with you?!” Toji’s voice booms in the car. On the other line, he hears Shiu gulp. “I… I thought he was with you.”

“You idiot! I asked you to pick him up from preschool around the same time you pick up Tsumiki from her school because I knew this would take a while!”

“You did?!” Shiu asks, and then it goes quiet; him more than likely flipping through his messages to double check. “...Shit,” he breathes out.

Toji inhales sharply, then exhales shakily in an attempt to calm the rage, and even the fear that pools in his gut. “If anything has happened to my fucking son, Kong, I will murder you and make your death look like an accident. Keep an eye on Tsumiki.”

“Fushiguro, I swear, I-” Toji hangs up before Shiu can explain himself further, then he starts the car.

He grips the steering wheel hard, and his breathing picks up as his mind spins with every horrific scenario possible. The preschool closes at six thirty. It was close to nine. He didn’t see any missed calls from them. On a normal day, he’d be done before work with plenty of time to pick up his four year-old son, but today’s job was far more difficult and required more time.

The car speeds down the street leading to his destination. He’s half-expecting to see Megumi sitting outside with his backpack, clinging to his dog plushie and crying. Or worse, he’s not there at all; because this world is full of terrible people, and they won’t hesitate to steal a small, unsupervised boy. His heart aches at the thought, and he shoves it away before he feels the need to throw up. He’ll be okay, he thinks to himself. Everything is going to be fine.

—

When Toji arrives at the preschool, he rushedly parks lopsidedly in the lot, then exits the car. His eyes scan the steps leading up to the front, and when he doesn’t see Megumi outside, he rushes to the door.

He sees a security guard in a booth, and before Toji can even ask any questions, the guard gives him a small smile and nod, pressing a button that unlocks the door to the preschool with a click. Toji’s shoulders slump in relief. They were expecting him. That meant Megumi is still here and safe.

Toji nods back at the guard in thanks, and rushes down the dimly-lit hallway. He sees a light coming from a classroom that still has its door open, and he slows his steps when he hears a child giggling. His child.

Then it’s followed up by a beautiful, melodic laugh that makes him stop in his tracks. It’s a lovely sound; one that his heart skips to, and one that gently rings in his ears even plenty of seconds after it stops.

Toji peeks into the classroom to see Megumi comfortably resting in a pillow fort, and you, kneeling beside a lamp and using your hands to make shadow puppets on the wall to entertain him. “Alright,” you say softly as you rearrange your hands and fingers. “What’s this one?”

You smile as you watch Megumi hum thoughtfully, and Toji is transfixed by you. Who are you? Where did you come from? Since when did Megumi get a new teacher? Why is your smile so bright and so beautiful that the sun would envy? Why is his heart beating wildly in his chest at the sight of you? Fuck, why is he staring?

“Ooh!” Megumi gasps as he figures out the animal you made with your hands. “Rabbit!”

“Correct, great job!” You reach forward and give him a high-five. “I think you’ll really like this next one,” you say, and Megumi giggles again as he sits up, completely focused and ready to guess. “Ready?” You ask, and the boy nods.

Toji crosses his arms, quietly leans against the door of the classroom, and watches, unaware of the soft smile that creeps onto his face. When you put your hands in front of the light, and the shape of the animal displays in front of Megumi, he squeals excitedly and stands up. “Doggy!” He shouts with a wide grin and pulls up his favorite dog plushie that he takes with him everywhere, imitating the sounds a dog would make. You break out into laughter, and Toji nearly stops breathing so he can fully take in the sound of it again.

Beautiful, he thinks. You’re so fucking beautiful.

Megumi’s eyes flicker towards the door, and he gasps before running as fast as he can towards Toji. “Papa!”

“Hey, Megs.” Toji kneels down, hugs the small boy against his chest before picking him up in his strong arms, sighing in relief as he runs a hand through his dark hair. He’s okay, and he doesn’t look too upset that he was here for this long. “I’m so sorry I’m late. Are you alright?”

“Yeah!” Megumi pulls away, then gestures towards you, who watched the tender reunion with a sweet smile. “Ms. [Y/L/N] played so many fun games with me!”

“Aw, I’m so happy you had fun, Megumi.” You take a step closer so you’re standing in front of Toji, slightly lifting your head upward to meet his eyes due to his height. “We tried calling you, but your phone went straight to voicemail. Megumi said that it does that sometimes. He took a nap earlier, but I’m sure he’ll be sleepy soon after all of those games. I also gave him dinner earlier.”

“That’s… I just-” Toji struggles to find words, especially when you slightly tilt your head to the side and blink slowly. He exhales, then snaps himself out of his daze. “Thank you so much,” he says. “Are you new? I swear, I’m not usually this late.” Great. Megumi’s pretty teacher might think I’m just the worst parent on this damn planet.

You nod. “Yes, I’m new. Today was my first day with this angel,” You use a finger to gently boop Megumi’s nose, and he smiles, shyly burying his face into Toji’s shoulder, “and the other kids. I figured you might’ve been held up at work or something. It’s okay. Things happen. Besides, he’s such a well-behaved kid. I didn’t mind spending this much time with him.”

Toji places Megumi on the ground, then gently taps his shoulder. “Let’s grab your stuff, okay?” As he helps Megumi pack his backpack, Toji bites back a smile when he sees you watching him out of the corner of his eye. He notes the way you fiddle with your hands and avert your gaze after catching yourself.

You walk over to your desk and open a drawer, pulling out three suckers from a sealed jar. Once Megumi had all of his things packed, you kneel before him, handing him the suckers one by one. “Here you go. One for you, one for your sister, and one for your dad. I can tell he works really, really hard.”

Toji doesn’t hide his smile this time; it was impossible, especially when Megumi accepts them excitedly. “Candy! Thank you!” He hugs you gently, and you return it, rubbing your hand up and down his back. “You’re so welcome. Thanks for being so sweet today. You made my first day so fun.”

A muffled gasp coming from outside has the three of you looking towards the window. Toji sees Tsumiki’s face squished against the glass with her usual, excited smile, and Shiu Kong standing beside her, looking relieved when he sees Megumi safe and sound. He purposely avoids Toji’s glare.

The sound of Megumi’s small yawn gets his attention, and Toji’s gaze softens when the boy rubs his tired eyes. “Aw, ‘m sorry. It’s past your bedtime. Let’s get you home.” He leans down to pick him up again, and once you have your belongings, the two of you leave the building together.

When you three make it outside, you face Toji and Megumi. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Megumi,” you say quietly to him, who is slowly beginning to drift off. Then you look up at Toji, who is softly smiling at you. “And I’ll see you tomorrow, too, right?” You ask.

“Yeah, you will.”

You wave goodbye, and Toji makes sure you get into your car safely. “Hey, Megs,” Toji gently shakes Megumi as he watches you drive out of the parking lot. “Do you know her name?”

“Ms. [Y/L/N]”

He chuckles. “No, kid, her first name.”

“I dunno,” Megumi mumbles before closing his eyes and resting his cheek on Toji’s shoulder. “Sleepy, papa.”

“Ah, there they are!” Shiu exclaims, and Toji would’ve thrown a punch if his son wasn’t in his arms, and if his seven year-old daughter wasn’t happily skipping towards him. “Hi, papa!”

“Hi, sweets, how was school today?”

“Good,” Tsumiki says, then grins mischievously as she points to the spot where your car was just a minute ago. “You like her!” She teases. “You wanna hug her and kiss her and give her chocolates!”

“Alright, you.” Toji rolls his eyes and laughs softly as he uses his free arm to lift up a giggly Tsumiki, then presses a kiss to her forehead. “Both of you should be in bed. Let’s get home.”

“Aw, okay.” Tsumiki then leans forward to gently kiss her sleeping baby brother’s cheek. “Night, Gumi.”

Toji secures both Tsumiki and Megumi in his car, and then faces Shiu, who is smiling nervously. “Well, look at that. Megumi’s doing great and you even developed a crush. How cute. All’s well that ends well.”

“Very cute, but guess what?”

“What?”

Toji finally throws a swift punch at Shiu’s jaw, greatly holding back his strength so it wouldn’t break. Shiu stumbles, then groans, cupping his face with his hands. “Okay, fine, I deserved that.”

“Damn right,” Toji says as he opens the door to the driver’s seat. “See you later.”

—

Toji almost never stresses about his appearance in the mornings. After all, it was just dropping off the kids. But this morning, he frets over which shirt would look better with the jeans he picked out, if he should wear a different type of cologne, or if he should slick his hair back.

All because he’s seeing you again.

He decides to skip the new cologne and go for his usual, simple one, dresses in a dark shirt to match the jeans, and also ditches the idea of slicking his hair. Once the kids are ready for the day, he leaves early and goes to a coffee shop to pick up a medium cup of coffee. First, he drops Tsumiki off at school, then he takes Megumi to preschool.

Toji spots you almost immediately. You were out in the front amongst the other preschool teachers, parents and their kids, wearing a gorgeous yellow top and simple blue jeans. When you see Toji and Megumi approaching, you pause your conversation with your coworker and walk over to them. Toji decides that he likes that, and that he loves the way you kneel in front of Megumi to meet his eye level, telling him good morning and asking if he was excited for the day.

You raise to your feet, Toji hands you the cup of coffee he purchased earlier. “For you,” he says, “As a thank you for everything yesterday.”

“Aw.” Your eyes light up as you accept the cup. “Mr. Fushiguro, this—”

“Toji,” he corrects softly, and he ignores the way his heart stutters when your smile grows.

“Well, Toji, this is lovely. Thank you so much.”

“I never caught your name last night.”

You tell him your name, and Toji tests it once. From the way you shyly avert your gaze, he can tell you that like the way it sounds in his voice. Megumi clears his throat, and Toji looks down to see him staring up at him, his brow raised in suspicion. “You never stay this long. Don’t you have to go to work?”

Damn, kid. Thought we were on the same team.

You laugh as Toji rolls his eyes and sticks his tongue out at Megumi—a gesture that the four year-old returns immediately. “Well, he’s right, gotta get going,” Toji says, looking back up at you. “I’ll see you later?”

“Yes.” You nod, then point to the warm cup in your hands. “Thanks again for the coffee. Have a great day at work.”

“You too.” Toji then gently ruffles Megumi’s hair. “Be good.”

He doesn’t realize how big he’s smiling until he’s back in the car, and he sighs as he remembers Shiu’s words from the night before. A crush. That word seems so silly. He’s not a teen in high school. Toji looks up just in time to watch you take Megumi’s hand and lead him inside the building with the other children, and he chuckles to himself as he starts the car up.

Maybe “silly” was okay when you’re this pretty.

#i love soft toji #toji fushiguro #toji fushigro x reader #toji x reader #jjk #jjk fluff #toji fluff #posts by rey <3 #written by rey <3 #jujutsu kaisen

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sarahroutldge · 2 months ago

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inked.

a/n: hey y'all! this is my first fic on this account. just a fun little jj one shot - lmk what you think!! (gif not mine - credits to the creator)

pairing: jj maybank x reader

summary: you and jj have been dating secretly for half a year, and a small question about a mysterious new tattoo leads to his friends finding out about the two of you.

word count: 2.8k

warnings: fluff/humor, marijuana use, implied sexual content, I think that's it

JJ’s not the greatest at dates, and he’s aware of that. But when it comes to you, he’s decided to step up his game, and that’s why he took the initiative to take you to Charleston for your birthday. While he currently can’t afford to spring for an elaborate dinner at a pricey restaurant, he’s trying to make tonight something special. Usually, you’re the one who has to pick up the slack when it comes to romance—though you’re not great at it either—but he figured that since it’s your birthday, all the planning should be his responsibility.

And so far it’s been great.

Walking hand-in-hand down the cobblestone streets of Charleston, you can feel how much freer JJ is when he can take you out somewhere people won’t recognize you. It’s been hard keeping such a big part of his life a secret from his friends for so long, but he doesn’t want to push it too far. You’re what he calls ‘kook-like,’ since you’re from Figure Eight but you went to the local public school instead. And while you never really interacted back in high school, JJ doesn’t want to have to explain to his friends everything about your relationship. It’s private, and though he knows he’ll confide in the Pogues at some point, he’s just not there yet. And thankfully, it doesn’t seem to bother you.

It’s been silent for a while, but not uncomfortable. You just enjoyed a delicious meal that JJ had to fight with you to pay the bill over, and you feel calm. Peaceful. Outside of the Outer Banks, there are no kooks and no pogues, just the two of you.

Choosing to break the silence, you voice your inner thoughts. “It’s nice to not have to worry about running into people we know, you know?”

JJ nods. “Yeah, it’s nice to know that I can kiss you without being afraid of being punched by Topper,” he teases.

You chuckle at his comment before pulling him to a stop. “You said you’d never bring it up!”

“Hey, he’s your ex-boyfriend,” JJ retorts, pointing at your chest.

“Hardly. We dated for two weeks when I was fourteen. And it’s still my greatest shame.”

“I thought I was your greatest shame.”

You roll your eyes, knowing he’s joking. “Never.” As he leans in to kiss you, you can swear that you’ve never felt lighter. You’re a bit tipsy from the drinks at dinner and JJ has a sparkle in his eyes that’ll never stop making you smile.

His lips press to yours, and you swear you know what the romantic comedies mean when they talk about fireworks. It’s nothing too heated—you’re standing on a sidewalk and you’re not that crazy—but it’s special and passionate. Your lips are a perfect fit for one another, and if you don’t pull away soon you know you’ll get swept up in it.

Knowing JJ has other plans for the two of you, you break away from the kiss and wrap your arms around his shoulders. “Alright, so what’s next on the agenda, Jayj?”

And that’s when you spot it—the signature twinkle in his eye that only shines when he has something a little bit crazy planned.

“Oh no…” you protest in preparation for whatever’s about to come out of his mouth.

“Okay, it’s just a crazy idea I had and it’s totally up to you. We don’t have to do it, but I think it would be fun.”

“What?” you ask. He unwraps your hands from his shoulders before grasping one of them in his own again, and starts to guide you down the street. “JJ, where are you taking me?”

“You’ll see.” He winks, and at that point you decide to just let him lead you wherever. You know he’d never put you in danger, and he’s safely gotten you out of your comfort zone many times before, so you’re sure that it can’t be too bad. Right?

As the two of you walk down the street hand-in-hand, your mind wanders. You’ve accepted your fate, but where could JJ possibly be taking you? And before your mind settles on a single answer, he pulls you to a stop in front of a little brick-walled building. ‘Inks Tattoo Parlor,’ the sign reads.

“Okay, I know it might be a crazy JJ idea,” he starts.

“I’m glad you’re self-aware,” you retort.

He rolls his eyes. “Just hear me out. I know we haven’t been dating for long and maybe I had too many drinks at dinner but I know you’re it for me. We’re young and I know we haven’t talked about marriage and I know we’re nowhere near there yet—”

“JJ, just breathe,” you say to comfort him, squeezing his hand in reassurance.

“Well, basically, I love you. Like a lot. Like more than I ever thought I could, and I think I want a tattoo of your initials on my ass.”

And then you give him the weirdest expression he’s ever seen. He can’t tell if he’s scared you off or turned you on or maybe both. But slowly, a smile makes its way onto your face.

“Okay, well, number one: this is definitely a crazy JJ idea,” you start. “But crazy JJ ideas are part of why I fell in love with you, and it’s your ass—you can do whatever you want with it. Frankly, I’m honored.”

He smashes his lips to yours and you kiss him back, chuckling against his lips. “Oh, babe, by the way, this ass belongs to you, too.” You playfully swat his chest, and his smile only grows.

You don’t know if the drinks from dinner are finally getting to you or you’re just on a high from spending so much quality time with your boyfriend, but as you and JJ wait for him to get tattooed, your mind starts to wonder if maybe you should get one as well.

After the tattoo artist finishes up with his previous client, you get up from where you were waiting next to JJ and look at the intricate designs on the wall. “Hey, Jayj?”

“What’s up?” he asks, looking up from his phone.

“What do you think of this font?”

JJ squints before deciding he might as well come over to get a better look. Standing behind you, he rests his head on your shoulder and examines what you’ve been pointing to.

“It’s alright, but not my thing,” he responds, as he wraps his arms around your waist. “Plus I think I’m just gonna stick with something simple. No twirly shit.”

You chuckle at his description of the font. “I didn’t mean for your tattoo, Jayj. I meant for me.” And that catches him off guard.

Unraveling his arms from around your waist, he moves to stand in front of you. “You’re getting a tattoo?” he questions.

A bit annoyed at his disbelief, you roll your eyes. “Why is that such a big deal?”

Racking his head for an answer that won’t make him sound like a dick, the best he comes out with is “well, it’s just not very… you.”

“Maybe that’s the point.”

JJ lifts his hands in defeat. “Hey, it’s your body. Your body, your choice, and all that, or whatever.” You chuckle at his wording. “What would you even get?”

“JJ, duh.”

His eyes widen. “You’re not serious.”

“Why not?”

He stares at you for a minute, looking deep into your eyes, trying to see if you’re joking with him, but he can’t seem to find any nervousness. “Well damn. Where are you gonna get it? And don’t say your ass because that would just be copying me.”

You roll your eyes. “No, I was thinking on my hip, right above my bikini line, you know? And it wouldn't be big or anything, just two J’s. No extra swirls or details or whatever.”

JJ puts his hand to his chin as if he needs to think it over, before stepping as close to you as possible and whispering in your ear, “that’s kinda hot, honestly.” He punctuates his comment with a kiss on the inside of your neck, and before you can do anything more you hear a clearing of breath from the tattoo artist.

“You’re up next.”

The two of you break apart from one another as if you’re fifteen and you’ve just been caught making out by the lockers during class time. JJ winks at you before laying down on the cot. “Alright, man, tat my ass up.”

Two weeks later…

“Kie!”

“Wake up!”

“Get up, Kie!”

“You’ve gotta see this!”

“Alright, I’m up!” Kiara relents, rolling her eyes as she wakes up from a heavenly nap in the hammock on the employees-only floor of the tackle and bait shop. “This better be an emergency.”

Sarah, John B., Pope, and Cleo squint a bit at her casual threat. “Okay, so it’s not exactly an emergency,” John B. clarifies. But before Kiara can object again, he explains, “JJ has an ass tat!”

“What?” Kiara asks, still a bit dizzy from her nap.

“JJ has a tattoo on his ass,” Pope clarifies proudly, and Cleo rolls her eyes in response.

“I know what an ass tat is, thank you very much,” Kiara bites back. “And why do we care that JJ has one? And also, how do you know that he has one?”

“Okay, well, you know how sometimes JJ doesn’t wear underwear?” John B. asks.

“Gross, but yes, I think we’re all unfortunately aware after the regrettable cliff diving incident last July.” Everyone shudders in horror at the memory.

“We care because it’s not something JJ-y,” Sarah explains. “He has a tattoo of someone’s initials!”

“And it’s not like JJ to, you know, ink anything remotely sentimental on himself. To be honest, I was surprised he didn’t get a joint tattooed on his ass first,” Pope elaborates.

“Well, what are the initials?”

“Y/I. And I can’t think of anyone with those initials.” John B. answers.

Now invested in the mystery of JJ’s ass tat, Kiara concentrates, trying to think of who she might know with those initials. Coming up with nothing, she asks, “Are we sure it’s not just something stupid?”

“Come on, Kie. It’s JJ. If there’s anything we’re sure about, it’s that there was a high level of stupidity involved in this decision,” Pope answers.

“Fair point,” Kiara concedes. “How did you even see the tattoo?”

“John B. walked in on him sleeping butt naked,” Sarah confesses. He shoots her a look, and she smirks. “I’m just glad you didn’t find it cuter than mine.” John B. rolls his eyes in response, and Sarah chuckles.

“Never,” he says, before kissing her on the lips.

“Gross!” Pope interjects.

Elsewhere on the island, you and JJ are enjoying a day at your favorite secluded part of the beach. The waves never get especially big here so you’re not crowded by surfers, but it’s a nice area to get away from it all and simply relax with one another.

You’re lounging on a towel, letting your back tan, as you engross yourself in your current book. Right next to you, JJ sits shirtless on his towel as he does whatever on his phone. It’s been relatively quiet for a while until you sense your boyfriend starting to stir.

You glance over at JJ only to see him typing incessantly on his phone.

“Babe?”

“Yo,” he says in acknowledgment, but without looking up from his screen.

You roll your eyes and move over onto his towel, making yourself comfortable behind his bare, sun-tanned back. Looking over his shoulder, you try to make out what he could possibly be doing.

Wrapping your hands around his stomach, you feel his abs tense under your fingers. “What’s going on?”

“I think our cover might be blown,” he answers, placing his hand above his phone so you can see the messages in the blaring sun.

John B.: Please tell me she’s not a kook.

Sarah: Hey 🙁

Cleo: We want to meet her!

Pope: How did you convince her to go out with you? Is she being held against her will?

Kie: I stfg JJ if you don’t just tell us her name.

Sarah: We’re at the usual surf spot on the beach, bring her over!

Pope: You have to come now because I need proof that a real human woman agreed to go out with you. Also if she doesn’t exist then JB owes me fifty bucks.

“Your friends are funny,” you say into his ear, and he smiles wide.

“So, what do you say? Do you want to meet them? I know we’ve kept this thing a secret but I guess it’s pointless now.”

“I’d love to meet them,” you respond, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek before standing up and packing your book, towel, and your cover-up into your bag.

Once you’re all packed, he grabs your hand and pulls you into his chest. “Thanks for doing this, babe.” He lightly presses his lips to yours.

“Don’t thank me, I can’t wait to meet your friends and hear all the embarrassing stories you haven’t told me. And of course I’ll have to share some of my own in return.” You return his kiss, and for a few seconds the two of you just stand there, kissing under the hot sun. His tongue makes its way into your mouth, and you tug on his messy blonde strands in response. He moans into the kiss, but before it can get too heated, you pull away. “As much as I love this, if we don’t stop, I don’t think we’ll make it in time to meet your friends.”

“Who cares about them?” he jokes, before pressing his lips to you again. And then, in signature JJ fashion, he grabs your bag in one hand and tosses you over his shoulder.

You shriek in response. “JJ put me down!”

“You’re the one who wanted to hurry. I’m just making sure you don’t get distracted.” As he walks you to his truck, you giggle at being held upside down, swatting his butt playfully.

Meeting his friends goes great, and you easily fall into a rhythm with Sarah, Kiara, and Cleo. John B.’s extra welcoming since your existence means that Pope now owes him fifty bucks, and by late afternoon you’re all relaxing around a bonfire. Gathered in a circle around the flames, you swap embarrassing JJ stories and enjoy just getting to know the Pogues. You pass around a joint, and a comfortable silence grows among the group, interspersed with a few chill conversations. Lounging in between JJ’s legs, his hands begin to wander before settling comfortably on your hips.

He plays with the hem of your cover-up, pulling it up and down ever so slightly. Sarah sits next to you, tugged under John B.’s arm. She glances around the group before she notices a bit of ink along your bikini line. “Ooh, that’s such a cute spot for a tattoo, what is it?” she asks.

You feel your face warm and JJ shoves his head into your back, chuckling at the situation.

The rest of the group looks confused at JJ’s reaction, and now everyone’s attention is on the both of you. Realizing there’s no way out of this, you meet JJ’s fingers at your hip and ever-so-slightly move the string on your bikini bottom so that Sarah can make out what it says.

She squints. “Oh my god! You have JJ tattooed on you!”

Everybody else’s eyes go wide and they all look at you in shock.

“Really?” Pope asks, questioning your judgment, and Cleo slaps him in response.

“Leave her alone, it’s cute.”

You smile at Cleo in thanks, and JJ looks at Pope. “Pope, it’s like the hottest thing ever, I swear. The sex was great already, but now–”

You cover JJ’s mouth with your hand in embarrassment, as John B. smirks in amusement. It’s silent for a second before JJ decides to lick your hand and you immediately pull away. “Ew!” you shout, and your boyfriend howls in amusement.

Standing up from between JJ’s legs, you wipe your wet hand on your cover-up, before tugging it off. “Anyways, I’m going to go for a final swim before the sun goes down completely. Anyone want to join?”

“I just want to finish my beer, but I’ll join you in a minute,” Sarah answers, and you smile. Cleo and Kiara nod in agreement, and you make your way into the water. But before you can reach the ocean, JJ runs up to you and lifts you off the ground. You yelp at his antics, and again he lays you over his shoulder. He turns around to wave at the group as they laugh at the two of you.

The rest of the Pogues look on as JJ drops you into the water. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but they might be perfect for each other,” Pope confesses.

Everyone nods in agreement. “They’re adorable,” Sarah adds. “Absolutely adorable.”

so... please let me know what you think! I don't currently have a taglist, but if you'd like to be tagged in my next jj fic, please send me an ask :)))

#jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank fic #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank one shot #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank x you #jj maybank reader insert #obx fanfiction #obx x reader #my writing

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formulamar · 2 months ago

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puppy love (but it’s cats!) part 1

max verstappen x vet!yn

fc: girls from pinterest

summary: as a Monaco native, Yn has had her fair share of encounters with F1 drivers. and as a vet, she has even fostered close relationships with some of the driver's pets. what happens when she is introduced to a single Max Verstappen who has two adorable cats?

vetyn

liked by albon_pets and 2,568 others

vetyn we had the cutest visitor today! 🐱💗

210 comments

ynbestfriend: hard at work or hardly working 🧐

vetyn: you’re just jealous i’m not crunching numbers all day 🙄

ynsfriend: can’t decide who’s cuter!

albon_pets: Dr. Yn we thought WE were the CUTEST?

vetyn: i promise YOU ARE! also some of my finest patients 🐾

albono23: now i can’t help but wonder which sibling commented this 😭😭😭

rumorhasitf1

liked by lion33, maxiellvr and 4,672 others

rumorhasitf1: 🚨 RUMOR HAS IT 🚨

Nearly 7 months after his dramatic split with his ex-girlfriend, it appears like Max is on the hunt for love 👀. Sources confirm the World Champion has recently joined the popular celebrity dating app Raya and he has been spotted out on a few dates. Is it possible we might see a new face in the RB garage soon?

531 comments

maxiellvr: lowkey i feel like he's going to end up dating who we least expect

30three: like Kendall Jenner or something 😭

rbgirl: no because when i saw that TikTok with his Raya profile I actually jumped!!!!

dutch1: sooooooooo who's gonna help a girl out and let Max know i'm free any day of the week!

vermax: no fr I wish he would do a Jeremy Fragrence type thing so I could apply to be his girlfriend 😒

verstappen4life: NOT THE JEREMY FRAGRANCE LMAODHJ

maxisfast: I never thought this day would come...@/maxverstappen1 OF COURSE I'LL MARRY YOU

frmlamax: yeah so, actually, he was on those dates with me sos xx

jimandsas1: hey, girly! so I know we don't know each other but...

maxstap1: dates. DATES. we all see that s at the end of DATE right? oh those lucky girls...

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vetyn’s story

translation: “new client”

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vetyn

liked by lilymhe, alexandrasaintmleux and 2,954 others

vetyn: joyeux anniversaire à moi 🥳 (happy anniversary to me)

it's been 6 AMAZING years of having my dream job. feeling very grateful today. can't wait to keep learning, growing and meeting adorable friends 💘

245 comments

lilymhe: LETS GOOOO YN! WE'RE ALL SUPER PROUD! (but mostly me duh)

vetyn: thank you! you're my fav! (don't tell alex pls)

alex_albon: Oh ok. Cool. We pick favorites now.

char16: now WHAT is going on in the albono house 😭

ynbestfriend: ily girl. can't wait to celebrate you this weekend 😝

liked by vetyn

alexandrasaintmleux: Félicitations, belle ❤️‍🔥

vetyn: merci belle 🥰

albon_pets: Thanks for everything, doc 🤓

liked by vetyn

ynfriend: so proud!

roscoelovescoco: All's My Love's Dr. YN

vetyn: Awwww thank you Roscoe, I miss ya!

russ63: NOW WHY AM I JUST FINDING OUT YN IS ROSCOE'S VET TOO????

ham1lton: omg yes. I believe he was the og f1-related client and then it was the albon pets

ynsister: love you. almost reunited 🇪🇸

liked by vetyn

rumorhasitf1

liked by maxlov3r and 5,728 others

rumorhasitf1: Looks like Max Verstappen had a wild night out celebrating his 6th win of the season in Barcelona 👀

1,034 comments

rbgirl: THAT SHOULD BE ME HOLDING YOUR HAND THAT SHOULD BE ME MAKING YOU LAUGH THAT SHOULD BE ME THIS IS SO SAD THAT SHOULD BE MEEEEEE THAT SHOULD BE MEEEE

maxstap1: you're so quick with it LMFAO

maxlovescats: WOAH I JUST WOKE UP?????

butfirstmax: honestly i'm so happy for him go live your life king

maxisfast: is this like his frat boy era

hamstappen: I swear if they're back together and I threw that party for nothing

hamstappen: just kidding hehe

rbgirl: HELPPPPPPPPPP

vermax: rb pr team prob freaking out as we speak

30three: and Max is sleeping soundly

sluttycatdad: IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS

maxielno1: okay now... doesn't that kinda look like....

justaninchident: that's what I was thinking too

username: wait who

maxielno1: his ex

maxverstappen1

liked by redbullracing, vetyn and 1,309,672 others

maxverstappen1: Barcelona, that was fun! Let's do it again?

23,672 comments

redbullracing: 🦁

rbgirl: oh trust we saw it was fun

maxisfast: 😭

maxielno1: SIMPLY LOVELY 🥰

f1fan: LETS GO CHAMP 🙌

vetyn: mega! 💙💙

maxverstappen1: ��💙

albono33: YN?

rbgirl: idk who this is but what is happenig here....

30three: so proud of you! 🧡

verstappen4life: yes! let’s do this everytime!

vermax: great job!!!! glad you had fun 😉

martingarrix: Mate how was the club?

maxverstappen1: Pretty good 😂

f1fan: 🔥🔥🔥

somedutchguy: LEGEND

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vetyn's story

to be continued..

⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩

a/n: y’all probably caught on already but this is set during the 2024 season anddddd i just wanted to do one part but tumblr is super annoying with the image limit 🙁 but lmk if you’re interested in a pt. 2! have a great day/night 🫶💐

1K notes · View notes

avatar-anna · 2 months ago

Text

Never Really Over

a little bit of divorced!harry for your consideration

"I just wanna see him."

Y/n gave her ex a long look, not betraying the warring emotions swirling in her belly. Harry rarely showed up this late. He rarely showed up unannounced, for that matter. It made things easier—seeing him when she could prepare herself for the encounter. Now he was here on her doorstep, hair messy and eyes all pleading and sad.

"I just put him to bed, H," Y/n sighed. It wasn't that she didn't want to keep Harry from their son, but it was way too late, and it wasn't his week.

It had nothing to do with the fact that Y/n had been feeling particularly lonely lately and seeing her ex husband be all sweet with their son would make her think traitorous thoughts.

"I know, I know, I've just... I've had a long day, and I just want to see him. I won't even wake him up, I swear. I just want to sit with him."

Despite the divorce, Y/n still knew Harry struggled with the demise of their relationship, and she did too, even if she was the one who ultimately filed. They were five months in, but she felt like no time had passed at all. She floated between half expecting Harry to walk through the door like he used to and frustrated by the way their relationship turned so tumultuous by the end. It was all too complicated, which was why she preferred Harry's visits to be planned. It helped her to compartmentalize.

But she saw the look in his eyes and couldn't help but empathize with her ex-husband.

He looked tired and lost and maybe even at his wits end a little. She knew that look well, she recognized it every time she looked in the mirror on the days Harry had their son. She knew what it was like to have a bad day and want nothing more than to hold their little bub and let him wash away every bit of stress and frustration. Y/n did everything she could to not go completely out of her mind when it was Harry's week with their son, and she imagined that her ex felt similarly.

"Twenty minutes," she said, opening the door further and stepping to the side.

Harry's shoulders sagged with relief. He stepped toward Y/n as if he was going to hug her, then seemed to think better of it and went straight inside.

Y/n stayed downstairs while Harry went up, letting him have a private moment with their son. She cleaned up in the meantime, putting away stray toys and books and fluffing couch cushions and refolding blankets. Anything to not think of Harry with her son, or the soft look he always got when he gazed down at their little boy. It had always been her kryptonite, and she wasn't sure she'd gotten over it yet.

A little while later, Harry came back downstairs. Having organized and straightened up everything she possibly could, Y/n settled on the couch with the glass of wine she'd promised herself earlier that day. She'd wanted to have it in her bed with her book, but she settled for scrolling on her phone until her ex eventually left.

"Thank you," Harry said, his voice soft, careful not to wake the five year old upstairs. "You didn't have to do that, but I appreciate it."

"Don't worry about it," Y/n said, trying to appear like seeing him didn't have an effect on her the way it used to.

"Really, Y/n, I owe you."

"Let's not go and make promises you can't keep again," she muttered.

Y/n felt guilty as soon as she said it. They were having a civil moment, a rarity since the whirlwind of their divorce. She hadn't meant to pick at old wounds and make them bleed again. Her response was a reflex more than anything, one that she couldn't keep in check when she was tired.

"I'm not the one who filed for divorce, Y/n," Harry said, a dark cloud of emotion overtaking his face. "If anyone broke promises, it was you."

"Those vows were broken long before we got divorced, and you know it," Y/n said, that old fire that was more of a dull ember these days rising to the surface.

Harry and Y/n fell in love hard and fast, both loving each other fiercely and with everything cell in their body. Their relationship had been full of passion and intensity and so much love it was almost suffocating. But it also meant that they fought just as hard. Their arguments often blazed and burned bright, then fizzled out until they were in each other's arms again as if nothing had happened.

Until the arguments got bigger.

And longer.

And Y/n just couldn't take it anymore.

Y/n could tell that the anger simmering in Harry's eyes was more for show. She could see the sadness, perhaps even loneliness, in those lovely green eyes of his. And maybe her anger was a little more bravado than genuine hurt too. Maybe it was easier to slip into familiar habits and poke at old wounds than admit the truth.

She missed him.

"Don't make me the villain here. You—"

"I don't want to fight with you," she said before Harry could volley anything back. "I shouldn't have said what I said. I'm sorry. It's been a long day for me, and I'm assuming yours wasn't a walk in the park either."

Harry didn't say anything, or do anything, for a moment. Then, he let his head drop, his shoulders slumping a little. Feeling more than a little bad for kicking him while he was down, Y/n stood up from the couch and fetched another glass before pouring some wine in it for her ex. "Here," she said. "A peace offering. You look like you could use it."

With a laugh that held no humor in it, he took it and raised the glass to his mouth, and Y/n tried hard not to stare at his lips. Or the column of his throat as it bobbed when he took a sip. Or—

"Is this one of mine?"

Y/n willed her cheeks not to flush. "I might've snagged a few bottles from your collection before we sold the house. Most of them went untouched anyways."

"They were aging," Harry said, a little of that humor and charm she fell in love with sparking in his eyes, the lines of his face. "You're supposed to let the bottles rest for a few years until they're at their peak, and then you drink them."

Y/n shrugged. "If you wait too long it goes bad and you miss out on a perfectly good bottle altogether, and then you do all that waiting for nothing."

She didn't mean anything by it, but both of them recognized the subtle truth in regards to their own relationship. Y/n wondered if they would ever be over this part. The stumbling through conversations and trying to avoid dangerous subjects that were littered between them like a minefield.

"Are you saying that's what happened with us?" Harry asked after taking another sip. "That I waited too long to appreciate what was right in front of me? What was perfect in every way the whole time?"

"I was talking about wine, not us."

"You've always been perfect in my eyes, Y/n," Harry said. "You and that perfect angel upstairs. Both of you are my entire world."

"Don't," Y/n said, taking a step back when she realized how close together they were.

"I miss you," Harry said, his voice hitching in his throat. "I miss waking up to our baby snuggled between us. I miss holding your hand while we watch him play at the park. I miss building pillow forts and playing pretend. I miss you, Y/n. I miss being loved by you. I hate that we're divorced. I hate that I signed those stupid papers and let you walk away."

Her throat suddenly felt dry, her heart pumping in her chest so hard she worried he might hear it. Blinking, Y/n tried to maintain the thread of composure holding her together. "You've had a long day. I can tell you need rest—"

"Don't patronize me," he said, stepping closer and closing the small distance between them once more. When Y/n didn't try to widen it again, Harry continued. "If you don't miss me, if you don't still feel what I feel, then say that. But if you do..."

Harry took Y/n's glass and set it down on the coffee table along with his own. He straightened up, one free hand lightly caressing your face, his thumb grazing across her cheek with a touch so delicate she barely felt it. It was agonizing. To have him right there, just the way she used to, and only get a phantom touch. It was maddening.

So maddening, that when he leaned in, Y/n didn't stop him.

She might have whimpered, and her knees might have slightly buckled, and she might have clutched her shirt between her fingers in a desperate, iron grip as Harry slid his mouth against hers, but she would deny it if he said anything about it later.

His kiss was all-consuming, he'd been a ghost in her new life for months, and suddenly he was everywhere—on her tongue, in her hands, against her chest. And she nearly forgot how explosive kissing him was. How it was almost like a dance that they'd mastered but were always learning new and exciting steps to. The softness of her ex's lips were as familiar as ever, but the stubble on his cheeks was new. She didn't recognize the shirt he wore, but she knew the body beneath it almost as well as her own. And his hands—

"We can't—We're not—Harry—"

Over the years, Y/n had grown used to the feeling of Harry's wedding band against her skin. When he held her hand, when he cupped her cheek, when he was spreading her open or landing a firm slap to her ass. It was familiar, a part of him that just seemed intrinsic after they got married.

But now, as she placed her hand over the one that held the side of her face as he kissed along her throat, it wasn't there. The band was gone, they weren't married anymore, and they certainly shouldn't be kissing like they still were.

"Just this once," Harry murmured, pressing the words along the curve of her jaw. "It's been so long, baby. I just want to feel you again. We can still be divorced after. Like last time."

Flames licked Y/n's core as she remembered the night in question. It had been the night the divorce had been finalized. Harry and Y/n signed and initialed every dotted line, the lawyers shook hands and left, then Harry and Y/n went their separate ways

Harry still insisted that her late-night message about a few of his possessions that got mixed in with her things was meant to have some kind of subtext, and Y/n would swear until she was blue in the face that her text was innocent, even if the activities that followed Harry coming over to "pick up" said items were anything but. It was a final goodbye. It was closing a chapter on a book neither of them ever really believed would end.

"Last time was supposed to be the last time," Y/n said, her voice shallow and not at all convincing.

"Tell me you don't want me right now," Harry said, his hand creeping beneath the waistband of her pajama pants. Y/n's mouth opened in a strangled gasp, too aroused and too in love with him still to push him away. "Tell me not to set you down on the kitchen counter and let me love on that pussy the way I used to. Tell me not to haul you upstairs and fuck you hard for breaking us up when we could've had this every. Single. Day."

Harry's last words were punctuated by the thrust of his fingers inside Y/n, each one making her curl around him tight. He lifted her into his arms and set her on the couch, the closest surface in the vicinity that wasn't hardwood flooring. His fingers still moving inside her, pumping slowly, he pressed a bruising kiss to her lips.

"Tell me not to love you anymore," he said, his teeth nipping at her bottom lip. "Tell me how to fall out of love with you. Tell me how to not dream of you. Tell me how to not want you anymore."

Y/n, who had succumbed to this moment, this lapse in...whatever it was, could only grip her ex's hair as he worked her over with his fingers, each word he spoke a balm to the loneliness these last months brought. She wasn't ready to start seeing someone else after the divorce, but now she worried no one would ever measure up to Harry. He ruined her for any other man who might try to sweep her off her feet in the future.

"Tell me, Y/n, and I'll let you come."

Y/n was a mess. She could hear it as Harry's fingers slid in and out of her quickly and harshly, then slowing down before she could finish. He used to do it all the time, knowing how worked up it made her, and now he knew nothing had changed.

"I—" she gasped. She was so close she could barely think straight. Harry's desperate words and the way his fingers curled inside her had her seeing stars. But if she knew her ex, he would stay there and edge her until she gave him what he wanted. "I don't know. I don't know how to make it stop. Please let me come."

Having thought she'd given him what he wanted, Y/n prepared herself for an earth-shattering orgasm. She surrendered herself to tonight, to him, even if she regretted it in the morning. Even if secretly she didn't, which would make her feel even worse.

But instead of pushing her over the edge, Harry removed his fingers from her altogether. The whine Y/n let out at the loss was perhaps a little undignified, but she couldn't think straight with the thick cloud of lust looming over her.

"Wh—"

"We're going to do this properly," he said, scooping her up into his arms and heading back upstairs, taking a left toward her bedroom. Their little angel boy was down the hall on the right side, but Y/n knew they still had to be quiet.

Once behind the closed door of her bedroom, they were both quick to shed each other of their clothes. Stitching ripped, a button or two flew, socks tossed carelessly to corners of the room they'd probably forget about later until there wasn't an ounce of fabric between them.

There wasn't time to stand and appreciate. This wasn't a romantic moment. It was desperate, a little angry, and intense in the way it always has been between them. Y/n kissed her ex-husband hard, her teeth sinking into his bottom lip and soothing the ache with her tongue until he eventually flipped her over onto her stomach.

"You can't be here by the time he wakes up tomorrow," Y/n managed to say. "I don't want to confuse him."

"I know," Harry said, lining himself up with her entrance. "But wouldn't it be so nice if I did?"

"Harry—"

"Relax, baby, I'll abide by your rules," he said, his voice a soft caress. "Just let me have you tonight, and then I'll be gone."

Harry slid in with one smooth thrust, Y/n's mouth dropping open in response. She hadn't been stretched this way in months, and the feel of him inside her again as if nothing had changed...

"Fuck, Harry. I'm—I'm so close," she moaned, unable to say much more than that.

His movements were torturously slow, prolonging the climax he'd been teasing out of her on the couch. Then he leaned over her, his body pressing deliciously against hers.

"We may be separated, but you're still mine," he said, his words accented by his own pleasure. "These hips? Mine. Your tits? Mine. This little cunt? Well, she already knows. Absolutely drenching me. And tonight, I'm going to make sure you remember that."

Y/n could only whimper and wait to take whatever her ex-husband was willing to give her.

*.*

Y/n was having the best dream.

Sun streamed through the small crack in her bedroom curtains as she snuggled under the weight of the warmest, coziest blanket. She held onto it, wrapping it tighter around her, hoping to get a couple more minutes of sleep before her son eventually barged in and demanded they start their day.

She had a million things to do, but none of it seemed to matter while she slept. She felt relaxed in a way she hadn't in a long time.

Then the dream seemed to change. The cozy blanket became an arm draped over her, a leg tangled between her own, and a firm body pressed against her back. The unknown form wrapped around her began to kiss along her bare back, the arm tightening its grip around her waist. Her stomach flipped as a hand began to play with her breast.

She hadn't had one of those dreams in a long time, either.

Before the dream could go any further, Y/n regrettably began to feel the pinpricks of consciousness. But as she blinked her eyes open, she still felt that weight of another body next to hers, of someone other than herself occupying her bed.

It was then that last night made an appearance in her mind, recalling every dirty detail of how she'd given into her ex-husband.

"Good morning."

Harry's voice was low and gruff as if he'd only just woken up himself. The puffs of his breaths dusted over Y/n's skin and sent goosebumps all over. She didn't understand how her body, even while it was still waking up, was so responsive to him.

As casually as possible, she said, "You weren't supposed to stay over."

"Honestly, I don't even remember falling asleep," Harry admitted, though he made no move to leave her Y/n's bed.

"You have to go before he wakes up," she insisted, even if her body was completely against that idea. "He can't find you here. If he does, he'll have questions, and—"

Before Y/n could even finish, she heard the soft patter of feet against soft carpet. Then her door creaked open, and the light of her life appeared.

"Daddy!"

Y/n rested her hands over her face, but not before seeing Harry's broad grin out of the corner of her eye, one that was nearly identical to the little boy at the foot of the bed.

"Hey, buddy," Harry said, his voice less husky than it was just moments ago. "What are you doing up so early, huh?"

"Why are you in bed with Mommy?" the boy asked, climbing into bed with his parents and wriggling around until he was snuggled between them.

Wasn't that the question, Y/n thought, though she was in no rush to help Harry.

"Mummy and Daddy decided to have a sleepover," Harry explained.

"Oh. Well, why didn't you invite me?"

"Because..." Y/n felt Harry's gaze on her, but she was not inclined to dig him out of this hole. Their night was over. It was a new day, which meant everything was back to the way it was before Harry came over last night. "Because I wanted to surprise you this morning. We're all going to spend the day together. Just the three of us."

"Yay!"

"What?"

Y/n glared over the top of her son's head as he half-hugged half-tackled Harry from sheer excitement. This was definitely not reverting back to their normal routine of co-parenting and seeing each other only when it was necessary. Harry, who looked thoroughly pleased with himself, slid out of bed with their boy still latched into him.

Thankfully, he was wearing underwear, but that didn't help Y/n much. She couldn't help but stare at his muscles flexing as he stood and stretched while he held their son. At all the tattoos that littered his body and the mess of curls on his head. He had no right to look this good in the morning, especially when Y/n knew for a fact that she always looked haggard no matter what when she first woke up.

Not that her appearance in front of her ex mattered to her.

"Come on, let's start with making your mum some breakfast. I'm thinking...waffles?"

"Do not make a mess of my kitchen, Harry," Y/n warned, not even bothering to protest the idea in its entirety. She wouldn't have been able to tell her son no even if he tried. Not with how excited he looked at the prospect of spending the day with his dad.

"We'll clean up after ourselves, I promise," Harry said with a wink in your direction. "You stay there and rest. I know you had a...long night."

Y/n threw a pillow at Harry's retreating form before flopping back into her bed. She had half a mind to strut right over to him and prove him wrong, but, well, the dull ache between her legs was starting to make itself known, and the damage of her son seeing Harry in her bed was already done. She might as well stay in bed and take the morning off if Harry was offering.

Sighing, Y/n ran a tired hand over her face as one realization after another made themselves known.

Everything about last night and this morning was messy and would no doubt bring about consequences and difficult conversations she wasn't inclined to have. There were questions she didn't want to ask or know the answer to, but one thing was abundantly clear:

She was well and truly fucked.

#harry styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles angst #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic

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brunchable · 3 months ago

Text

Moving In [18+]

《Beefy!Bucky Barnes x f!reader》

Pairings: Beefy!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader. Summary: You're moving into your brand new apartment with Bucky. Themes/Warning: FLUFF and then SMUT. Dirty Talk, Oral Sex in shower [M receiving], Breath play, Breeding Kink, Rough Sex, unprotected sex, a bit of Cumplay, pet names [baby, angel], Bucky talking Russian, Bucky watching you undress, Bucky washing your body. A/N: Enjoy. Also I only use goodle translate for the Russian translations so it might not be accurate okay?

Tags: @hzdhrtss @classicrebound @winterslove1917

You’re standing outside your new apartment, staring at the couch wedged halfway through the doorframe. Bucky is on the other side, trying not to scowl too hard, but it’s obvious he’s moments away from snapping.

“Remind me again… why this couch?” he grumbles, giving the couch another push, his biceps straining against his shirt. You can’t help but admire how ridiculous he looks—like an action hero struggling against a villain that won’t budge.

“It’s cute!” you call from the doorway, trying to sound casual.

“It’s a tank,” he mutters, adjusting his grip. “It’s like you went into the store and said, ‘Show me the one that can take out a wall.’”

You stifle a giggle and shrug. “Hey, it’s got character. You love character, right?”

Bucky raises an eyebrow at you, glancing between the couch and you. “Character? Babe, this couch has more attitude than I do.”

You smirk and cross your arms. “Mmm I think it’s 50/50.”

He doesn’t even dignify that with a response, pushing the couch again with a grunt. After what feels like an eternity, he manages to wedge it through the door and into the living room. He flops onto it, completely spent, his chest heaving.

“I swear,” he pants, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand, “if we ever move again, I’m burning this thing.”

“Oh, relax,” you say, walking over to flop down next to him, throwing your legs across his lap. “You’re just cranky because the couch won.”

He gives you an incredulous look. “Cranky? Me?” Then, with an exaggerated groan, he places a hand on his chest. “Oh no, not at all. I love breaking my back for this thing. Love it.”

You poke his ribs, and he twitches. “Don’t be dramatic. I thought you were tough.”

“I am,” he says, sitting up with a mock glare. “But that couch is no joke.”

You snicker, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “Well, now that the couch is in, we can start painting!”

Bucky’s expression drops like a rock.

“Painting?” He points to the walls like they personally offended him. “What’s wrong with these walls?”

“They’re beige, Bucky. Beige. Who chooses beige?” You hop up, grabbing the paint roller with a bright smile. “Come on! I picked a beautiful sky blue for the feature wall.”

“I miss the couch already,” Bucky grumbles but stands up to help.

Soon enough, you’re both in old clothes, standing in the middle of the room with paint trays and rollers. Bucky, as expected, is focused, serious, and meticulous, carefully applying each stroke to the wall like it’s a mission briefing.

Meanwhile, you’re rolling the paint on a little haphazardly, watching him out of the corner of your eye, trying not to laugh. He’s so serious—too serious for something like this.

“Bucky,” you call out sweetly, taking a step toward him.

“Hm?” he grunts, still focused.

“Hold still.”

Before he can react, you swipe your paintbrush across his nose, leaving a perfect streak of blue on his face.

He blinks, stunned for a moment, his mouth hanging open. Then he narrows his eyes at you, his voice dangerously calm. “You didn’t.”

“Oh, but I did,” you say with a grin, taking a step back.

Bucky doesn’t say anything for a second, but the look on his face tells you everything—you’ve started something. Suddenly, he grabs his roller, slowly dipping it into the paint tray, his gaze locked onto you.

“Bucky—” you start, backing up.

“I’m warning you,” he says, lifting the roller like a weapon. “You’re not walking out of here clean.”

You squeal, trying to dodge as he lunges at you, but he’s faster—much faster. With one swift move, he swipes the roller across your arm, leaving a giant blue streak on your sleeve. You burst out laughing, and before you know it, both of you are chasing each other around the room, paint flying everywhere.

“Truce!” you yell, holding your hands up, but Bucky only smirks.

“No way,” he says, catching you around the waist and pulling you close. “You started this.”

Before you can protest, he swipes his finger across your cheek, leaving another streak of blue paint. You gasp and laugh, wriggling out of his grasp, but not before leaving a handprint on his shirt.

“You’re ruthless,” you say between giggles, wiping paint off your face.

“Says the woman who wiped paint on my nose,” he fires back, but he’s grinning now, looking much more relaxed than before.

Finally, you both collapse onto the plastic covered couch, your clothes and skin now covered in paint smudges, breathing heavily. Bucky rests his head on the back of the couch, glancing over at you with a soft smile. His nose is still blue, and he hasn’t even bothered to wipe it off.

“I can’t believe you picked a fight with me,” he says, his tone playful.

“I didn’t pick a fight,” you say, smiling. “I picked a paint war.”

He shakes his head, chuckling. “You’re lucky I love you.”

You lean over, kissing his cheek. “Yeah, I am.”

And there you are, sitting together on your way-too-large couch, paint everywhere, and Bucky with a sky-blue nose, looking happier than you’ve seen him in a while.

× × × ×

After what feels like hours of cleaning up paint splatters and arranging your oversized couch (which Bucky still glares at from time to time), you both flop back onto it, utterly spent. The place looks halfway decent now—painted walls, the couch finally in its rightful place—and both of you are starving.

You sit cross-legged on the couch, with takeout boxes from your favorite Chinese restaurant spread out on the coffee table in front of you. Bucky’s already digging into his lo mein like it’s the best meal of his life. You, however, are eyeing your sweet and sour pork, but your gaze keeps flicking over to Bucky’s food.

He catches your glances and raises an eyebrow, fork halfway to his mouth.

“What?”

You quickly look back at your own box. “Nothing.”

He narrows his eyes suspiciously and takes another bite. You make a show of enjoying your food, but out of the corner of your eye, you keep stealing glances at his lo mein.

“Seriously, what’s going on?” Bucky asks, pausing mid-bite. “You’re doing that thing again.”

“What thing?” you ask innocently, poking your sweet and sour pork with your chopsticks.

“That thing where you pretend you don’t want my food but keep staring at it like it’s the last meal on Earth.”

You bite your lip, stifling a smile, and look at your chicken again. “I’m not staring. I’m just… admiring.”

“Admiring?” Bucky’s voice is filled with playful disbelief. “You hate lo mein.”

“I do not!” you protest, but your eyes flick back to his box of food.

Bucky leans back on the couch, a smirk forming on his lips as he watches you. “Uh-huh. So, you don’t want to swap?”

You freeze, pretending to look offended. “Why would I want to swap? I love sweet and sour pork. It’s… my favorite.”

“Uh-huh,” he repeats, his smirk growing as he scoops another big bite of lo mein into his mouth. “Because it really looks like you’re enjoying that pork.”

You poke the pork again, this time with a little less enthusiasm. You’ve had sweet and sour pork a million times. Meanwhile, Bucky’s lo mein looks warm and savory, and you swear he’s eating it like it’s better than yours on purpose.

“Okay, fine!” you finally admit, throwing your hands up. “I want your lo mein. Happy?”

Bucky laughs, his deep voice filling the room. “I knew it! Why don’t you just order what I order?”

“Because I like variety,” you say, crossing your arms. “But your food always looks better than mine.”

He snorts, shaking his head, before pushing his lo mein box toward you. “Go ahead, have at it. I knew this was coming.”

You take the box without hesitation, immediately diving into it like you’ve been waiting for this moment your whole life.

“Thank you.”

Bucky watches you with a smile, then reaches for your untouched sweet and sour pork.

“Fine. I’ll take this. Not that you ever really wanted it.”

You both eat for a few minutes, but Bucky’s watching you again, this time with a curious expression.

“What now?” you ask, pausing mid-bite.

“I just don’t get it,” Bucky says, waving his fork around. “You always do this. You order something different, then you want what I have.”

You shrug, swallowing a mouthful of noodles. “It’s a girlfriend thing. We like to try your food.”

Bucky chuckles, shaking his head. “You don’t try it—you take it.”

“I can’t help it!” you laugh. “You always pick the better food.”

He rolls his eyes, but there’s a fond smile on his face. “Next time, just tell me what you want. I’ll order two of it.”

You smile sweetly at him. “Where’s the fun in that?”

Bucky groans but doesn’t stop eating. After a few more bites, though, you notice him eyeing his old box—the one now sitting in your lap.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, a grin spreading across your face.

“Nothing,” he grumbles, glancing between his pirk and the lo mein you’ve commandeered. “Just… thinking maybe I miss my lo mein.”

You smirk and nudge the box toward him. “Wanna swap back?”

“Maybe,” he mutters, but you can tell he’s holding back a smile.

Without another word, you swap your food again, and Bucky’s face immediately brightens as he digs back into his lo mein. You laugh, shaking your head, realizing this is going to be a never-ending cycle of food-stealing whenever you two order takeout.

As you both settle in, Bucky looks over at you, this time with a soft smile, no teasing, no complaints.

“You know,” he says, his voice a little quieter, “this whole moving in thing… not so bad.”

You smile back, your heart warming at his words. “Not so bad,” you agree, leaning into his side.

And as the two of you sit there, eating takeout on your too-big couch in your freshly painted apartment, you realize there’s no one else you’d rather steal food from for the rest of your life.

The apartment is finally feeling like home, and the evening sun filters through the windows, casting a warm glow over the room. Bucky’s arm is draped casually around your shoulders, his fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on your arm.

You’ve got your phone in your hand, lazily scrolling through TikTok while Bucky relaxes next to you. Every so often, you let out a soft chuckle or grin at a funny video, completely absorbed in your scrolling.

Bucky isn’t saying much, just watching you quietly with that soft, fond expression he always gets when he thinks you aren’t paying attention. He likes these moments—when you’re just being yourself, not thinking too hard about anything. It’s one of the things he loves most about you.

Suddenly, you laugh out loud, covering your mouth as a TikTok meme plays on your screen.

“Oh my god,” you snicker, turning to Bucky with a mischievous smile. “This is literally you.”

He raises an eyebrow, intrigued. “What? What is?”

You bite back another laugh and replay the TikTok, showing him the video. The meme says: "My boyfriend every time any part of my body touches him" followed by the guy on the video saying, "I may or may not have a boner right now."

Bucky stares at the screen for a moment, then glances back at you, his expression deadpan.

“Really?”

You burst out laughing, nodding enthusiastically. “Yes! This is so you!”

Bucky groans, rubbing his hand over his face, but there’s a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “That’s not me.”

“Yes you are!” you tease, poking him in the side. “You’re exactly like that. Every time.”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Not every time.”

You give him a look, arching an eyebrow. “Oh, really?”

Bucky smirks, leaning in a little closer. “Okay, fine. Maybe every time. But it’s not my fault. You’re… hot.”

You laugh again, nudging him playfully. “Uh-huh, sure.”

He catches your hand, pulling you closer, his smirk turning into a full grin. “What do you expect? You’re walking around here, looking all cute and stealing my food. What am I supposed to do?”

You roll your eyes, trying to hold back your smile. “Blame me for everything.”

He shrugs, still grinning. “I’m just saying, it’s a natural reaction.”

You shake your head, trying to keep a straight face, but you can’t help it. You burst into laughter again, leaning into him as you laugh. Bucky watches you, his expression softening, his hand moving to rest on your thigh as he pulls you even closer.

“See?” you say, still laughing, pointing at him. “Exactly like the TikTok!”

Bucky rolls his eyes dramatically but doesn’t bother denying it. “Fine, fine. You got me.”

You grin triumphantly, leaning your head on his shoulder as you settle back into his side. “I knew it.”

For a moment, neither of you says anything, just enjoying the comfortable silence. Then, with a small laugh, Bucky leans down, his voice low and teasing in your ear. “For the record… I may or may not have a boner right now.”

You gasp, swatting his chest. “Bucky!”

He laughs, pulling you into his lap and wrapping his arms around you, his grin wide and completely unrepentant.

“Hey, you started it!”

You groan, shaking your head as you push yourself out of his lap, a smile tugging at your lips.

“I don’t know… I think I’m going to have a shower,” you say, standing up and stretching.

Bucky raises an eyebrow, looking intrigued. “Oh, yeah?”

You give him a playful smirk. “Yeah. Alone.”

His face twists into a dramatic pout.

“Alone? C’mon, we should save on the water bill. Be responsible adults,” he says with a mock-serious tone, raising his eyebrows like it’s a valid point. He grins, leaning back on the couch, crossing his arms. “Just looking out for our finances.”

“Right. Well, I think we’ll survive a little higher water bill,” you tease as you make your way toward the bathroom.

He sighs dramatically. “Guess I’ll just sit here being financially responsible all by myself.”

You pause in the doorway, throwing a look over your shoulder. “Good luck with that.”

Bucky smirks, not giving up. “Last chance. Think of the planet.”

You roll your eyes but chuckle, finally giving in. “Alright, fine! Hurry up!”

Bucky’s face lights up, and he pumps his fist in victory.

“Yes!” He jumps off the couch, pulling his shirt over his head from behind in one smooth motion, already halfway undressed as he strides toward you with a triumphant grin.

Your eyes instinctively drift down his body as he walks toward you, taking in the way his muscles shift with every step, his abs defined and his chest broad. He tosses his shirt aside, and you can’t help but admire the view, your cheeks heating slightly as you watch him.

When he reaches you, Bucky’s hands move swiftly to his belt and the buttons on his jeans, undoing them with ease. His fingers are quick and sure, and he glances up at you, clearly amused by your reaction. He knows exactly what he’s doing as he works to undress, his grin widening when he sees you watching.

“You’re ridiculous,” you mutter, leaning against the doorframe, trying to play it cool despite the way your gaze lingers a little longer than intended.

“Responsible,” he corrects with a wink, kicking off his shoes. “Environmentally conscious. And now, efficient.”

You snicker, stepping aside to let him through. “Alright, Mr. Efficient, you’re on a time limit.”

Bucky grins, already slipping into the bathroom. “Don’t worry, I’m a super soldier. Fast is kind of my thing.”

As you stood shut the door behind you, you suddenly felt a sharp smack on your ass. You gasped, turning around to find Bucky grinning behind you.

“Oh my god, Bucky!” you exclaimed, but he was already past you, reaching in to turn the shower on like it was the most normal thing in the world.

He glanced back, his eyes filled with playful mischief. “What?” he asked innocently. “You love it.”

You rolled your eyes, trying not to laugh. “Can you not watch me?”

Bucky leaned casually against the wall, crossing his arms, his eyes fixed on you with a smirk that made your stomach flip. Slowly, he licked his bottom lip, his gaze drifting over your body like he was committing every inch of you to memory.

“Why not? I’ve seen this a million times,” he teased, his voice low and teasing. “Besides, I like watching you take everything off.”

His eyes lingered on the curve of your waist, traveling up to your bare shoulders, then back down again, soaking in every detail. The way his lips tugged into a smile when you caught him staring sent heat flooding through you.

Your cheeks flushed, but you tried to act unbothered, peeling off your clothes while fully aware of his intense gaze following your every move. You could feel the way his eyes moved over your skin, taking in the sight of your legs, the dip of your back, and the way you tried to casually brush off his attention.

Finally, the water was hot enough, steam swirling around the bathroom. As you reached for the shower door, Bucky’s hand shot out, tugging you toward him and into the shower, his grip firm but gentle.

“Bucky!” you yelped as the warm water cascaded over both of you. His arms wrapped around you from behind, pulling you against his chest, the heat of his body almost matching the warmth of the water.

He kissed the back of your neck, his voice a low, amused rumble in your ear. “Told you. Saving water.”

Taking the soap, he worked up a lather in his hands and pulled your back against his chest. He soaped your breasts, massaging them and pinching your nipples. You wound your arms around his head, giving you your weight and full access to your luscious body.

Bucky reached for your clit, stroking and circling with two fingertips, loving the way you responded to him. Never had a lover been so in tune with what he needed, your cravings a perfect match to his own. He felt like a god every time you gave in. Soon you were panting, your ass rocking against the semi-erect cock between his legs.

Bucky maneuvered you into the spray, letting the warm water cascade down your skin, droplets running down your shoulders and back as you settled into the heat. He stayed close behind you, soaping his own body while you soaked beneath the shower.

Your gaze flickered, darting between his legs as he washed his cock and balls, the sight almost too tempting. Without thinking, you started to reach for him, fingers trailing toward his groin.

“Later,” Bucky rasped, his voice thick with desire. He caught your wrist gently, his lips brushing your ear as he added, "In fact, I planned on fucking you all night."

You shivered at his words, heat pooling low in your stomach as his breath tickled the sensitive skin of your neck.

"You're not actually worried about the water bill, are you?" you teased, glancing back at him with a smirk, trying to break the tension, though your pulse was racing.

Turning away, you began to wash your hair, lathering the shampoo into your scalp. But before you could finish, Bucky's hands reached for yours, gently moving them aside.

"Let me," he murmured, his fingers threading through your hair as he started massaging your scalp with the perfect amount of pressure, and you moaned. Bucky chuckled softly, the sound went straight to his dick.

"Sovsem ni kapli," he said, his voice rumbling low.

"What?" you chuckled, realising he'd spoken Russian on purpose, knowing it turns you on. "You're doing that thing where you talk in Russian.”

He grinned, his lips ghosting over your ear. "Not even a little."

You tilted your head back slightly, feeling his fingers still working through your hair. "Are you teaching me Russian?"

“Maybe," he said, a playful edge to his voice, “Ya lyublyu tebya” I love you.

“Ya lyublyu tebya,” you repeated in an accent far more non-russian accent than Russian.

“You’ll learn. You will be ready to tell me to fuck you in Russian very soon.”

“Teach me how to say that,” you said as you moved under the spray to rinse your hair.

“Pozhaluysta, trakhnya menya. Ya tvoya malen'kaya shlyushka.”

“You said more than just ‘fuck me.’”

He grabbed your waist and pulled your wet body flush to his. Bucky said, ‘Please fuck me. I am your little slut.’”

“Oh, my God—you nasty.” You fingers threaded through his hair, your eyelids hooded. “Why is that so hot?”

“Because you like it dirty, just like I do.” Bucky pushed you against the tile and ate at your mouth, devouring you as he thrust his tongue inside. You kissed him back, meeting him eagerly, and his balls were heavy again with the need to have you.

Bucky reluctantly tore his mouth off of yours and said, “You know what I want.”

You wasted no time in dropping to your knees on the slick tile. He didn’t move, so you shuffled forward until the tip of his erection was within reach. You opened your mouth and sucked on the head, using your tongue on the underside.

“Argh—that’s my girl,” His palm swept over your wet hair.

You pushed your face toward his pelvis, taking more of him. He filled your mouth, so thick and smooth, and you could taste the precum leaking from the tip. You closed your eyes, savouring the sensation, loving the power this gave you over his pleasure.

He rocked his hips, fucking your mouth, and you took it eagerly, relaxing your throat to keep from gagging. You made sure your lips stayed tight on his shaft, and you fluttered your tongue until he grunted.

“Eyes up here.”

You looked up at his face, which was taut with lust, his pupils wide. Bucky began muttering something under his breath, which was something he does to keep himself going for longer.

By the time he finished, you were panting, more turned on than you could stand. You started to reach between youe legs, ready to make yourself come, but his fingers twisted in your hair.

“Not yet. Put your hands behind your back.”

You obeyed and his nostrils flared at your compliance. “Who do you belong to, baby?”

You knew he wanted an answer, so you started to release him. He shook his head and held you in place. “No, don’t pull off. With your mouth full of my dick, tell me who you belong to.”

Holding his gaze, you gave a garbled answer around the rigid flesh. “Mmmu.”

Satisfaction twisted his expression and he pushed deep, making you gag. “That’s right. What a good girl you are. I think I’ll reward you.”

You groaned low in yourthroat, and the vibrations made him shudder and his eyes rolled, breaking your eye contact. You moaned again, this time intentionally and watched his rapturous expression, revelling in the sudden power. The more he growled and the harder he gripped your hair the more voraciously you tried to devour him with your tongue.

Bucky pumped his hips against your mouth and the only thing keeping you steady was his grip on your head as you felt him stiffen even more against your tongue, your mouth followed, moving wetly back up the shaft. You let out more moans before he gasped and cried out thickly. You felt a pressure in your mouth and it was suddenly filled. You nearly gagged and had to swallow several times to keep from choking, finally pulling away with a gasp to see the remainder still leaking from the tip. You blinked up at him taking heavy breaths.

Turning off the water, he stepped back and his cock fell out of your mouth. He raised a hand to brush the hair from your face and cupped your cheek in one hand. His hand almost practically engulfed you but was extremely gentle, almost tender.

“Up.”

After you rose, he pointed behind you. “Go to the bed. Lay down, arms above your head and legs spread.”

You didn’t bother towelling off as you left the bathroom. Instead, you stretched out on the cool sheets, the water drying on your skin and making you shiver. Your clit was swollen and begging for attention.

Bucky strode into the bedroom, his glorious cock bobbing with every step. He was going to shove that monster inside your pussy and you couldn’t fucking wait.

Putting one knee on the bed, he reached between your legs. “Fuck, you’re so wet. Did my Russian turn you on?”

He shoved two fingers inside you and you gasped, you upper half bowing. “God, yes!”

“Is this pussy empty? Do you need me to fill it?” He pumped his hand, giving you a taste of the friction you craved. “Beg me. ‘Trakhni menya zhestko, soldat.’”

You dug your fingernails into the headboard. “Trakhni menya zhestko, James!”

“Fuck,” he ground out. “I want to edge you for hours, but I can’t—let’s just go for round two.” In a flash he was on his knees between your thighs, lining up at your entrance and pushing in. The pressure was a lot to take.

You weren’t sure you were one hundred percent ready. “Oh, shit.”

“Shh,” he said, smoothing his palms down your legs. “You can take me, baby, you always do.”

He watched as his cock spread your pussy open, his hips moving slowly, like he wanted you to feel every centimeter. Your eyes nearly rolled back in your head. “So good, Bucky. You’re killing me.”

He dragged a hand up your hip, along your ribs and over a breast, until he reached your throat.

“No, I’m not killing you . . . but I easily could?” Bucky jokes, his fingers covered your neck and squeezed, not enough to cut off your air but enough to cause your eyes to pop open. He was smirking down at you.

“You’re alive at my mercy, angel.” As if on cue, a flood of moisture coated his cock just then and he tunneled farther inside, now in almost all the way. He squeezed your throat a little harder. “You like that, don’t you? When I play with you like this.”

Your lips parted with the force of your breaths, your pulse throbbing beneath his hand. He slid in as deep as he could go, his cock fully seated and taking up all the room inside you. You wriggled your hips, trying to urge him on. You needed to come so badly.

“Please, baby, you have to move.”

Instead, he held still and stared at you. “I am going to choke you while I fuck you.”

Panic filled your chest. You weren’t ready for those kinds of games. That was next level shit. “No, wait. Don’t hurt me—take it easy.”

“Angel,” he crooned, “Of course, I will not hurt you. Ya tebe obeshchayu.” I promise you.

He gave a gentle thrust of his hips. “I am going to squeeze the sides of your throat. It will make you lightheaded and your orgasm will be a thousand times more intense.”

You knew many people were into breath play and strangulation, but it seemed dangerous to you.

You swallowed. “O-okay? I trust you.”

“Don’t worry, I know how to do this correctly. You will love it.” He stared at his hand on your throat, then withdrew and rammed into your pussy, and the friction sent shockwaves through your limbs. He growled deep in his throat.

“Baby, shouldn’t we have a safe word? Or . . . .” your words died when he gave a rough thrust, rocking you body, and you cried out. “Oh, yes! More of that.”

“Nah. No need for a safe word. The fear and danger will make it more exciting for you.” Bucky winked, pulling almost all the way out then ramming back inside you.

“Fu—ck. It’ll just make it more exciting for you.”

Bucky only chuckled and he began stroking in and out, his hand resting on your throat. He wasn’t applying any real pressure, just building the tension, making you wonder when he would start, and for some reason the uncertainty made it hotter. Sweat broke out on your forehead, your body already primed to come, so you rocked your hips, trying to hit the right spot to send you over the edge.

“Look at me,” he ordered.

You cracked your eyelids and read the intent in his gaze. Fuck, was I ready? I really liked the feel of his hand on my throat.

You nodded.

As he started thrusting back into his rhythm, he squeezed the sides of your throat, pressing. You never looked away from him, unsure what you were feeling as the blood flow into your head slowed. He watched your face.

“There you go, Angel. It feels so good, doesn’t it?”

The fear and excitement sent you spiraling. “Oh, God,” you said, now lightheaded.

He rode you hard, rocking the headboard into the wall, and you inner muscles tightened around his dick.

He growled. “I can feel you. Fuck!”

He released your neck, and what followed was a rush you’d never experienced in all your life. Your pussy clamped down as the orgasm slammed into you. Yoir hoarse shout echoed throughout the room, and you dug your fingernails into his arms as the climax went on and on.

Buck was pressing deep inside against your cervix, this time harder, and the pressure made you cramp. One of his hands has now begun toying with your breast, creating more of those warm and blessed shivers of sensation.

“You’re so hot when you take it.” He said brushing his knuckles against the undersides of you breast.

“Yeah? Well you better not fucking pull out.” You demanded, insensibly rocking you hips against his, and pressing your breast into his hand.

“You’d like that wouldn’t you? You're just going to keep having babies over and over. Don't let any of the cum out of your pussy when I come. We need it all in there so you can do your job. That's all you need to be. Just a little baby maker for me.” He pinched one of your nipples, a little hard, but you instantly wanted him to do it again.

"Oh—fuck, yes! I’m going to keep it all in for you, baby. Now why don’t you find a more...productive use for...your dirty mouth?” You looked at him with glazed eyes, and he gave you a heart stopping look in return.

"As you wish, angel." And with that his mouth was at your devouring your mouth, your throat, and finally was at your breasts. You rewarded him with an approving squeeze at the back of his neck, and his cock as he ravaged you.

He pumped into you more aggressively now, and you ground your hips against him, each shock sliding further from more pleasure. You cried out, clutching at him and wrapping your legs tightly around him, but he continued to thrust into you with greater need, moving more and more deeply, his tongue all over your body.

Again the pain mingled with pleasure until it all blurred into a white heat. It was as if you felt everything and nothing. You had trouble discerning where one caress began and another violent thrust ended.

You felt him moving above you, his muscles straining beneath your hands and at your mouth as you licked and nipped at his rough skin feeling an undeniable urge to feel and taste every part of him. You felt Bucky’s moans as much as you heard them, vibrating through your body as he pressed against you, covering you and burying himself inside you. He was everywhere, and it felt as if there was nothing left of the world beyond you two straining bodies.

You felt the knot in the pit of your stomach tightening once more and you rocked your hips faster against him, grunting as your bodies slammed together.

“Ohhh—my—god, Bucky! YES. Put that hot load in my unprotected pussy.”

Your hips meet his thrusts coming closer and closer with each jarring shock. Bucky laced his fingers through your loose hair and gripped you again, leveraging himself into you and sending a blinding heat through you making your hips jerk beneath him.

“Oh—fuck, I’m going to put a baby inside you now. Can you feel how deep I am inside you?” Grunting from the effort, he held you down as his hips slammed into you, a man possessed, and not even ten strokes later he was coming, his back arching.

His own cry tore from his throat as you shook beneath him, and you felt yourseld suddenly filled, if that were any more possible, and was overcome by a series of wrenching spasms that made you clutch at his skin and gasp for air. You twitched delirious as the throbbing inside of you sent hot waves of pleasure and relief through your trembling body.

Bucky didn’t immediately pull out. Instead, he hung his head, closed his eyes, and stirred his hips, like he wanted to prolong your connection. You could feel his come leaking out of you, our combined juices soaking the mattress.

You reached down as he slowly pulled out, the emptiness causing you to shiver. You reached down and tried to extract as much some as you could by scooping it out of your with two fingers, eyes locked on Bucky while you seductively lick his come off your fingers.

“Fuck, Y/N.” Finally, he rolled off you and sprawled onto the bed.

Your head rested on his arm, your cheek pressed against the hard ridge of his chest. You slid a hand along the groove, trailing it down to his stomach and pressed your hand against it, exploring the firm lines of the knotted muscles with your finger tips.

“Are you trying to get me hard again? Because it’s working.”

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champagnefountains · 11 months ago

Text

LUCIFER MAGNE - H.H.

CHAPTER II - Prompt: Lucifer continuing to wear his wedding ring despite being in a relationship with you.

Previous chapter: [x] Word Count: 3.4k+ words (unedited). Genre/other tags: Angst with some fluff. Jealousy. Fem pronouns used. Warnings: Swearing. Self-deprecation. Manipulation (on Alastor's part).

It had been nearly over a week since you and Lucifer last talked – it had also been a week since Lucifer was last seen around in the hotel. Angel, being the gossiper he was, relayed everything that had transpired between you two to the others the following day. Seeing the sensitive and sad shell of a person you were left in, everyone remained cautious and had started walking on eggshells around you. Of course, you were quick to pick up on that, as embarrassing as it all was (minus Alastor, who continued on with his usual theatrics and mischief).

Charlie in particular was the most concerned out of them all, since this was her dad we were talking about. She knew with certainty that he was confining himself in the castle to distract himself from what happened – likely something involving his rubber-ducky obsession – instead of facing the problem head on. It was his pride that sometimes got in the way of his better judgement.

Not only that, but Charlie clearly saw the massive toll it took on you. If you weren’t distracting yourself with work or doing something related to the hotel, you would lock yourself away in your room, only coming out to quickly grab a bite to eat from the kitchen. Charlie even made efforts to strike many conversations with you from time to time, but was either excused or was only given one-worded responses. She knew not to take your dismissive behaviour to heart, but she couldn’t help but fret over you.

So it came as an absolute surprise when out of nowhere, Charlie received a call from her father. She messily scrambled for her phone on her desk, fumbling and nearly dropping it in the process before violently tapping on the small screen. “H-Hello?! Dad, hey!” She answers a bit too enthusiastically while nervously combing her hair with a free hand. “Uh, hey Charlie!” Lucifer stiffly greets from the other line, “I just…um, thought I’d give a call to, uh, see how everyone’s going at the hotel!” The Princess noted how much hoarser his voice was than usual, but decided not to comment on it aloud.

“Well, y’know how it is! It’s been busy and lively as always–everyone’s been working really hard and all,” she answers vaguely, nervously chuckling. “Err, yeah! Right. That’s a–that’s a relief to hear. Yep,” he hums. There was a brief, awkward pause that ensued soon after, the both of them not knowing what to say next. The whole exchange was becoming increasingly painful that Charlie resisted the urge to pull her hair. She then clears her throat. “H-How about you, dad? What’ve you been up to? You’ve been gone for a couple or so days,” Charlie finally musters, “are…are you doing alright?”

“Me? Oh yeah, psh! I just got, erm…a lot of things going on at the moment. It’s not so easy being the big boss of hell after all! Got a lot of important things to do! Plus, I’ve got heaps of paperwork to do for the hotel. You should know how tedious that is,” He says, adding an exaggerated groan.

The princess furrows her brows. “Oh, that’s…strange. ’Cause I could’ve sworn you left all the papers here…y’know, the ones you told me to revise over?” Charlie replies, side-eyeing the said documents stacked neatly on her desk. A startled yelp escapes his throat. “O-Oh...did I?” He stammers.

Charlie couldn’t help but wince at the evident panic that began to set in as she listened to her father make incomprehensible noises from the other line. It was a poor attempt in reasoning, which ultimately became useless in the end. Lucifer let out a long sigh, caught red-handed. “Oh, who the hell am I kidding? You guys probably already know what happened–which by the way, Charlie, you shouldn’t be lying to me about!” He pointedly remarks.

“I-I’m sorry, dad! It’s just…I’m really worried about you,” she reasons, before shortly adding, “...The both of you.”

There was a small pause. “...How is she, by the way?” He then asks quietly. Charlie nervously tugs her bottom lip with her fangs. “Well, she’s keeping herself busy. Constantly, as a matter of fact. And I know she’s trying hard to convince us all that she’s holding up okay, but…she doesn’t look too good, dad. She seems really upset.”

A shaky exhale sounded from his end. “I…I really am hopeless, aren’t I?” He mumbles defeatedly. Even though she couldn’t see him, she could picture him burying his face in his hands. The image caused Charlie’s eyes to soften. “Dad, no. It’s not too late. You still have a chance to make things right,” Charlie gently encourages through the speaker, “you just need to talk to each other–”

Suddenly, from the corner of her eye, a bright, blazing portal manifests from thin air – from it, emerges Lucifer himself who appeared extremely dishevelled, effectively catching Charlie off guard.

“But, hun, y-you don’t understand! I messed up big time!” He exclaims, tugging on his unkempt hair as he aimlessly paced around her office. “I-I mean, look at me! I’m a fucking mess and a coward! Why would she ever think to take me back after what I did!?” He chuckles humourlessly, shaking his head in disbelief, “I-It’s like no matter how many times I try to redeem and convince myself that everything’s finally going right in my life, I just continue to fuck myself over and over again. And it’s just– ugh! It’s pathetic! I’m fucking pathetic!”

Charlie’s chest tightened considerably as she watched her father self-destruct before her. Strands of his golden hair were sticking out here and there, his dress-shirt tousled, and his eyes were glossed over and red, from both a lack of sleep and crying. He looked utterly devastated. Chucking her phone away, she immediately sped towards and enveloped Lucifer in her arms, who immediately broke down into heavy sobs. Seeing him like this brought tears to her own eyes, but she firmly told herself to be the stronger person in this situation, for his sake.

“Hey, hey. Dad, listen to me, okay? Everyone deserves a second chance. You of all people should know–you were the one who taught me that, remember?” Charlie rubbed his back soothingly, trying to ease the jumpiness of his shoulders. “And that also applies to you. I…I know you’ve been through a lot, especially with mum…” She couldn’t help the way her frown deepened as she spoke, “...and I miss her too. I miss her a lot. But…I think it’s finally time for you to move on. It’s been years, dad. You deserve to be happy and you’re allowed to be in love again.”

“[Name]’s an amazing person, and there’s no doubt about that. She’s proved that more than many times already. I’m certain that once things ease over and you guys finally talk things through, everything will turn out okay; she’s very understanding and kind like that. You’ll both be okay.” Charlie gently pulls Lucifer away and with the sleeve of her blazer, she wipes his damp, reddened cheeks. “I know for a fact that she loves and cares about you deeply – we can all see it as clear as day. You…you love her too, don’t you, dad?”

For a brief moment’s contemplation, Lucifer suddenly recalled the times you spent together, from your initial meeting to now. He had always thought you were a strong and independent soul, with the way you carried yourself. You just had something about you that naturally drew in those around you, including himself. When Lucifer got to know you in a deeper level, he was enthralled by how kind and understanding you were – you were always there to listen to his many tales and endless nonsense; you would always seem genuinely interested in his rubber-duck-esque inventions, offering some input and critiquing his creations; and you would always be so, so supportive of all his plans and ideas, no matter how extraordinary they all seemed.

If he hadn't known any better, Lucifer would've thought you were an actual angel. You were the saviour that wore off the darkness in troubling times, and the one who pulled him out of the void that Lilith had left him in. That and more, as you continuously gave him a real reason to remain hopeful. You were proof personified, that he was able to open his heart once more, and to love again.

“I-I do, I really do,” Lucifer affirms in a heartbeat. Charlie smiles warmly, relieved by his answer, “then that’s all you need to say.” At that moment, Lucifer's chest swelled in overwhelming pride for his daughter, knowing that despite not being as present in her life until recently, she grew up to be the good and strong-willed person he had hoped for.

“O-Oh, jeez. Since when did you grow up so big? I should be the one comforting you,” He tearfully jokes, sniffling whilst returning her smile, “but thank you, Charlie. Really. I’m…I-I really am grateful to call you my daughter.” The two royalties then shared a heart-felt moment and a bone-crushing hug, with the King's heart being filled with a new-found determination. Because, just as he always says: The show must go on.

Earlier on:

On the other side of the building, you were drowning yourself in your own self-despair as you overlooked the balcony by the front entrance of the hotel. Your eyes lazily scanned the new hotel patrons below, who were engaging in some trust exercises led by Vaggie, who came in to cover you just moments ago. Every once in a while, you couldn’t help but glance at your phone, silently hoping to receive some sort of notification from Lucifer, or even an inkling of his whereabouts. But you received nothing, which only fuelled your growing anxiety.

You felt awful leaving the way you did that night, especially after dumping so much onto Lucifer. You felt like you were being completely selfish, and had cornered him into making a big decision. And because of that, your relationship was on the line. You let out a frustrated sigh, rubbing angrily at your face.

Little did you know however, that you had some company lurking nearby, watching you in silent amusement.

“Now, don’t you look as miserable as ever?” Alastor mockingly chimes in, stepping out from the shadows to make his presence known and joins you by the balcony. You roll your eyes at the deer-demon before turning your head the other direction. “Yeah, and what about it?” You scoff, leaning in to rest your arms against the rails, “Can’t you go bother someone else, Alastor? I’m certainly not in the mood right now.”

“Why, I wouldn’t be a good hotelier if I left a dear co-worker of mine so down in the slumps!” To your dismay, Alastor reappears in front of you, obstructing your field of view, "And might I add, it's not healthy for you to be all cooped up in your room all the time – stay there any longer, and it can do silly, little things to your head!" He emphasises his point as he spins a finger in a circular motion by his temple. You shot him an irritated look, slowly growing fed up by his prodding.

"Listen, I don't need you telling me what I should and shouldn't do. I’m more than capable of deciding that on my own,” you growl, straightening up to cross your arms firmly against your chest. “Hm...no, I don’t think so!” Alastor hums, shaking his head disapprovingly, “The unfortunate affair that took place in your courtship with the King has left you in such a vulnerable, and problematic state. And I’m sure you’ve taken note of how everyone’s been acting around you – constantly walking on their tiptoes in fear of setting you off on a hissy-fit. You’ve caused them to worry a lot about you, dear. Poor ol’ Charlie, especially.”

You open your mouth to retort back, but nothing came out. A strong pang of guilt struck you as his words began to sink in. Seeing this, Alastor’s grin widened a faction as he stepped forward and levelled himself with you, now facing you eye-to-eye. “And as the executive producer of this fine establishment, might I critique that your behaviour is affecting our team’s morale and performance…and we mustn’t have that now, should we? Especially not since we’ve all been more preoccupied recently with our guests!” He…had a fair point, as much as you didn’t want to admit it.

“I…I’m sorry. I didn’t…know…” Your voice began to trail off, shoulders slumping in realisation of how selfish and contemptuous you’ve been acting this whole week. You recalled the fretful expressions of your friends and your dismissive attitude towards them. “I-I didn’t mean to make everyone worry…” you quietly say. Alastor’s words only made you feel immensely worse about the whole situation, leaving you sniffling on the spot.

“Now, now. As long as you realise your mistakes, then you shall be forgiven,” he coos, softly patting the tuft of your head. At that, you couldn’t help but send a doubtful glance his way. “W-wait a minute…why do you care all of a sudden? What exactly are you playing at?” You suspiciously question as you rub at your eyes.

“Oh, how you wound me, dear! Why must you always question any act of kindness I display? Is it really that hard to believe?” He adverts, evidently feigning hurt. You deadpan. “Yes, it is,” you reply almost instantly. Alastor chortles at your bluntness, “Haha! You’re quite a work of art, aren't you, dear? Now, let’s go out for a walk, shall we?”

Before you could’ve processed what he had said, Alastor had already spun you around, pulling you with him as you both headed down a flight of stairs. “Wha–Alastor, where are we–where the heck are you taking me?” You asked, trying to keep up with his long strides so as to not trip down the stairs. “Hm? Did I not already specify? It looks like your brooding has impacted your hearing, dear. That’s a shame,” he slyly comments, now dragging you towards the entrance, “We’re both going for a walk around town, it’ll help clear that cloudy head of yours!”

“Hold on-Stop! Just what makes you think I’d agree to go out with you?” You shoot back, retracting your arm from his hold and stopping metres behind him. Alastor sharply turns around and pulls out a wrinkled, yellow piece of paper out of thin air. Your eyes dart towards the sheet, seeing a familiar hand-writing across the page.

“Why, I just knew you were going to question me – you're so predictable. But might I add, we’re not going out without purpose! No, no! Our lovely Charlie has composed a list and requested we fetch a couple items in town!” Stepping forward, you swiftly snatched the paper from his clawed hand and briefly scanned the list, noting that it largely consisted of decorations and party items. “She wanted to organise a heart-warming celebration for the wayward souls here who have accomplished some milestones on their journey to redemption! An anniversary ceremony of sorts, if you will,” Alastor explains, lightly patting the non-existing dust off of his suit.

“But couldn’t you just…I don’t know, teleport the things here?” You blatantly ask, raising a brow at him. You knew he was more than capable of doing such minuscule tasks within a span of seconds. “And waste such a beautiful day outside? Now, why would I even consider doing that?” Alastor states matter-of-factly, “And like I said, the short trip will help clear your troubled mind! Consider it a gesture of compassion from yours truly.”

There was clearly something off about all this but you couldn’t see any reason for an ulterior motive. It was just…simply a manager looking out for the well-being of his work-colleagues, as uncharacteristic and off-putting as it sounded out loud. Already exhausted, you couldn’t bring it in yourself to question his actions any further.

“You’re really not going to take ‘no’ for an answer, are you?” You ask. Seeing the way Alastor’s grin widened had you sighing in defeat. “Shall we then?” Alastor questions, offering an arm out to you. Rolling your eyes, you loop one of your arms through and follow him out the hotel. ‘A small walk wouldn’t hurt…’ you think to yourself as the doors shut behind you.

Currently:

Lucifer tiredly dragged himself to his designated room in the hotel, to rest for a while and take a much needed bath as per Charlie’s advice. He gave himself a lengthy pep-talk in front of the mirror as he brushed his teeth, deciding to approach you tonight to finally talk and clear things out. Yes, he was absolutely terrified about the possibility of things going south during the confrontation, but he didn’t think he could handle another second being without you. And he needed to make that loud and clear.

After putting on an outfit and neatly slicking his hair back, Lucifer looked at his reflection once more in the bedside mirror, inspecting himself up and down to flatten any remaining creases of his clothing. But it wasn't until his gaze landed on his left hand that he tensed up. Peering down, he brought his hand into view to inspect the very wedding band that caused it all. With a shaky sigh, Lucifer slowly pulled the ring off of his finger. He took a moment to examine it, eyes filled with sentiment before kneeling down to open his bedside drawer, where its designated ring-box sat. The moment he encased the ring in its box and locked it away in his drawer, it felt like a breath of fresh air. To his own surprise, Lucifer found himself tearfully laughing – he felt...genuinely happy. Proud, even. It was at this very moment that he felt like he was finally ready to move forward.

After patting the stray tears away from his face, Lucifer slowly made his way down to the front lobby. There, Charlie and Vaggie were talking amongst themselves by the lounge area, whilst Angel and Cherri chuckled away by the bar, with Husk tending to their beverages. The King didn’t give an inkling of care as to where Alastor had gone, and he was certain that Nifty was hiding somewhere in the small crevices of the hotel, cleaning away. All in all, there was no sight of you whatsoever, visibly disappointing him.

Seeing his approaching form, Charlie waved his father over towards them. “Hey, dad. Are you feeling a bit better now?” She asks with a comforting smile. “Yeah, totally. Thanks, dear,” he says, patting her shoulder affectionately before turning his attention towards her partner. “Hey! How’s it going, Maggie? I’ve heard you’ve been working real hard lately, huh? Good on yah!” He commends, playfully nudging the said demon. “Oh, um…it’s–it’s Vaggie, sir. And uh, thanks,” she nervously chuckles, rubbing her arm. “Mhm, yeah…that’s–that’s great,” Lucifer distractedly hums, all the while scanning around the room. Noticing this, Vaggie shared a worried look with Charlie.

“Erm, dad, she’s not here at the moment if that’s what you’re wondering,” Charlie starts, alerting her father. “Oh? Well, is she up in one of the guest rooms?” Lucifer asked, gesturing upstairs with a thumb. To his confusion, Charlie appeared somewhat nervous, her hands fidgeting with her suit. “Uh, no, she’s actually not in the hotel at the moment,” Vaggie steps in, “she’s been out doing a couple of errands for us.” Lucifer raised a brow at the slight edginess in her tone, eyes darting back and forth between the two girls. “...Um, alright. What the heck is going on right now?" He asks, pointing an accusatory finger at them both, "You guys are acting sketchy as fuck. Are you...are you guys hiding something from me?" He narrows his eyes. Charlie sucks in a breath, brows pinching together, “Well...dad, t-the thing is–”

“She’s out with Smiles right now!” Angel suddenly intervened, calling out from the other side of the room, and causing Charlie to cower and duck behind Vaggie. Lucifer felt his shoulders grow rigid. “She’s…what now?” He dangerously asks, glaring at the arachnid. Before Lucifer trudged towards the direction of the bar, the front doors of the hotel abruptly flew open. He felt the vein in his neck nearly burst at the sound of your laughter interlacing itself with that god-awful, irritating radio feedback. What a wild coincidence.

As Lucifer turned around, his eyes nearly flew out of his head as he saw how close you were with Alastor, arms basically locked together. The radio-demon was quick to meet eyes with the King, and out of spite, Alastor flashed him the biggest shit-eating grin he's ever seen.

“Oh, fuck no!”

Chapter III - Finale [x]

Thank you for reading!

#lucifer magne x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer magne #lucifer morningstar

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mrsbarnesblog · 7 months ago

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my girl

masterlist

requests are open

summary: even if you knew that you and Rafe were just hooking up, hearing his friend's comments about you, while you were preparing a venue for the event, hurt more than you expected it to

word count: 2k.

warnings: fwb (or smth like that) to lovers, mentions of sex but nothing explicit, Rafe's friends lol, swearing

a/n: soft Rafe is my weakness, I'm sorry. he's on my mind 24/7 and I literally don't know what to write

You were running around the outdoor venue with boxes full of pastry, where in a few hours there was going to be an annual celebration with lots of rich people. For some reason, Ward Cameron, who was paying for everything here, decided that your father’s small bakery was good enough to feed all of the kooks, so from the afternoon on, you were organizing tables to make everything look perfect.

The place itself looked truly magical—decorated with a lot of flower arrangements, lights and expensive furniture. It was located at Figure 8, so you obviously never had the opportunity to visit it before. It was Kook’s territory, and even with your family’s bakery, which was pretty popular on the island, you were not welcome here.

Just a few minutes ago, Ward himself came to the venue with Rafe and his son’s best friends in order to check how everything was going.

As soon as your eyes met Rafe’s, you both stopped for a few seconds, too shocked to see each other in a public place. What happened between you and Kook's prince was something that you had never expected to get into, yet here you were.

You didn’t know what got into you that one night, but out of nowhere, Rafe was talking to you, smiling, looking all sexy and without his usual cockiness, so you couldn’t resist him.

It wasn’t that you even regretted your decision; it just became more weird every single time you met because he wasn’t bad. Rafe Cameron wasn’t an asshole, which everyone made him seem to be. He was affectionate and surprisingly soft, always checking on you while you two were together and never pressuring you to leave. You wholeheartedly had to admit that it became more than just sex after a few weeks, no matter how hard you tried to deny it.

You were definitely not dating, mostly because he had never asked you to, but you two were always texting about random stuff, he would even pick you up to hang out at his secret spot on the beach, or just to simply sit in his truck with lots of food and talk. Part of you hated it, but Rafe made you feel so comfortable and safe around him so you were scared to push it and ask him what was happening between you.

Rafe’s eyes stayed fixated on you as his father, Kelce and Topper stood near him, looking around the venue and chatting. But he could not care less about it because his entire attention was drawn to you and how adorable you looked in your pink tennis skirt and simple white polo with the bakery's logo on it.

He may or may not be responsible for Ward’s choice of bakery to work with, because Rafe made sure to accidentally mention it a few times, knowing that it would be a good profit for your family. Yet, seeing you here slightly took him off guard, as the first thought that appeared in his head was to go up to you, flirt and make you blush, or just simply kiss you. But he couldn’t, right? At least not until he properly talked to you.

“Damn, she’s hot, even for a pogue. No wonder you hit it a few times, bro. I'd do it too.” The moment words left Topper’s mouth, Rafe’s heart dropped into his stomach. Kelce snickered, fistbumping Topper, and Rafe cursed himself for running his mouth. He really considered drowning his friends in the nearest lake.

“Shut your fucking mouth.” Rafe seethed through gritted teeth, elbowing his friend.

“I would appreciate you both watching your language.” Ward sighed, wincing and rubbing a hand on his beard. He looked at Rafe, who completely ignored his questioning gaze while trying to figure out how to fix it.

Even with you standing with your back facing them, Rafe saw that you heard it too. Your hand froze in the air, still holding a cupcake, and your shoulders sagged in disappointment and hurt.

Only a few seconds later, you came back to your senses. Your back straightened, you finished decorating the table and you put empty boxes in the trash can. You turned around, showing the fakest smile Rafe had ever seen on your face. Your nails digged in your palm to control yourself, and you stepped closer to the four of them.

“Mr. Cameron, thank you for working with our bakery. It really means a lot for my family. I did everything and now the event manager should carry on. I, um, should go. I have a lot of stuff to do. Have a great night.” Your eyes were glossy, with tears clearly visible on your waterline. As you awkwardly and in a rush thanked Ward, you didn’t even look at Rafe or either of his friends, knowing damn well that it would break you.

You didn’t even wait for Ward’s response before storming off, trying to get as far away from these people as possible. Your chest felt too heavy, and the lump in your throat was so hard that you could barely speak. But you didn’t even walk a few feet away before a familiar hand wrapped around your wrist and made you turn around.

“What do you want from me?” You snapped at Rafe, trying to yank your hand out of his grip. “Don’t touch me, Rafe.”

“This is not what you think it is.” He said, searching for your eyes. His brows were knit together, and his eyes were big and round, almost in fear.

“Oh no? Isn’t it what I am to you? Just a hit. Just another one on your long list. Why are you bothering to explain anything to me anyway?” You laughed, barely able to hold back your tears. As if it were not enough that you cried in front of Rafe, neither his friends nor his father seemed to mind their own business, obviously listening to your conversation.

“No. You know that it was more for me, Y/N. I’m serious about you, okay? Topper just cannot filter his fucking mouth.”

“Stop doing it, Rafe!” You broke, not bothering to hide anymore. “Stop playing with my feelings when you know damn well that you won’t have anything serious with me. I’m not rich, I’m not a kook and I’m not like the prefect girls you usually hang out with. I get it, okay?” You yanked your hand out of his hold, not missing the way Rafe tried to catch it back. Wiping away hot and angry tears with the back of your hand, you look him right in the eyes. “I just wish you didn't give me hope in the first place, because I feel so fucking stupid.”

“You’re not stupid, Y/N. I don’t care about your money or your status, for that matter. I want you and I mean it. Just let me explain—”

"This is why you would not even speak to me in front of anyone, right? This is why we were always sneaking around. Because you want me, not because you’re too good to be around me.“ You confronted him, not even caring who could hear or see you. From the position where you were standing, you saw a bunch of young waitresses standing not so far away, pretending to work on the table but eyeing you and Rafe every second.

“I’m an asshole. I know it. I know that I didn’t put the label on us and that I fucked up, not doing the right thing.” He stepped closer to you, not breaking eye contact to show that he was sincere. "When Topper and Kelce saw me with you, I panicked and said the only thing that made sense: we were just hooking up. I didn’t want it to be that way, fuck…” Rafe screched the back of his neck in agitation.

“You should go back and stop embarrassing yourself talking with a pogue. I bet your friends found it entertaining. How much did you tell them, hm? Did you share every single detail of what we were doing?” Your voice broke at the end.

“I didn’t tell them anything!”

“Well, I don’t believe you, Rafe!” You sniffed, looking away to distract yourself from the look in Rafe’s eyes. His blue eyes were round, full of concern and it seemed like he was almost panicking. "I understand how guys like you talk about women, but I guess I was stupid enough to believe you would not do that to me. So yeah, you got what you wanted from me and now you can go back to—”

You were rumbling one moment, and the next, two hands pressed on your cheeks, tilting your head up, and Rafe's lips were on yours. You gasped, hands freezing in the air in shock, before slowly moving to Rafe’s shirt to tug on it.

He didn’t rush; he just firmly yet gently held you against him while his tongue slipped into your mouth, savoiring every second. It’s been just two days since you last seen each other, but God, you missed kissing him. Even if you wanted to move away, you couldn’t. Rafe's palms were on your face, guiding you, while his kiss made your head feel empty and light. He smelled and tasted so good and you hated how quickly you got used to the feeling of his touch on your skin.

“Everyone can see us.” You mumbled into his mouth.

“I don’t fucking care, Y/N.” He furrowed, still feeling the wetness on your cheeks from crying. With his thumbs gently rubbing your soft skin, he gave you a few quick kisses before continuing. "I swear, all I said to them was that we just hooked up, because it is what it was at that moment. I wouldn’t have shared anything intimate about you, baby. Please believe me when I say this.” Rafe sighed, resting his forehead on yours. His nose bumped against your—something that he started doing when you were alone in the bed, laying face to face and just looking at each other. "I am sorry I made you feel like you were just sex for me, because you weren't. Spending time with you was the best fucking time of my day, and whatever that was between us, I don’t want it to end.”

“Me neither…” You whispered, feeling warmth rushing through your body when Rafe wrapped his hands around your waist and pulled you even closer into him. He placed a kiss on the top of your head and then you felt him turning around, seemingly studying people around you.

“Since everyone saw us today, do you think I can take you away with me right now?”

“Take me away? But you have an event in a few hours, and I have to work.”

“No, now we have an event and we have to find you a dress. I’ll handle your work and find someone who can deliver your orders.” Your head snapped up, only to see a proud grin on Rafe's face.

“You’re joking, right?” You pulled away, laughing. “I don’t have such clothes nor do I have money to buy them, and I definitely wasn’t invited.”

“That’s why I’m taking you to the store now. And since you are my girl now, you’ll be my plus one.” He just shrugged, probably unaware that he had just filled your stomach with freaking butterflies.

“I’m your girl?”

Rafe silently looked you in the eyes for a few seconds, and it seemed like he was trying to reassure himself about something. His eyes then shifted to your lips, as he dragged you back to his body, lowering himself to mumble against your mouth. “Yeah, you are my girl.”

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe x reader #rafe fanfiction #rafe imagine #rafe cameron imagine #obx rafe cameron #rafe cameron #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron x y/n

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lemonlover1110 · 4 months ago

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𝐀 𝐑𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐲 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

Zayne

Pairing: Zayne x f!Reader

Summary: The rain ruining his plans might have been the best possible luck.

Warnings: MDNI, Fluff, Smut, Oral Sex (f. receiving), Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Creampie

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

“It’s raining.” You point out, face nearly pressing on the window as you stare outside. It was going to happen sooner or later, the dark clouds had been adorning the sky the entire day, yet the day went dry.

“Raining?” Zayne sounds surprised, as if he hadn’t been staring at the same dark sky a couple of hours earlier. He stands up, walking over to look out the window as if he didn’t trust your word. You swear you hear him sigh when he confirms that it’s indeed raining.

“Is everything okay? Is our date still on?” You look at him, worried about his reaction. He wants to say that the rain will be over in ten minutes and the plans are still on… But it doesn’t look like it’ll stop any time soon.

“The rain is going to make things more… Difficult.” Zayne answers, not wanting to give up on the date idea just yet. There is no hope though, you can’t go stargazing when it’s storming out. You stare at him, trying to study the look on his face– A task that’s difficult since the man does a great job at suppressing any trace of emotion. “Maybe we have to change a couple of things.”

From now on he will leave the dates to you and only you, because the one time he plans something it’s ruined before it even begins. It’s what he gets for trying to be romantic, there’s a reason you’re the one that usually takes on the role.

“Like?” You ask, and he isn’t sure how to answer. He already had everything planned out, and he put his all to the specific date so now his brain is empty. The lack of answer makes you chuckle. “So we’re staying in?”

“Unless I get a reservation in time.” Zayne reaches for his phone to look up restaurants nearby, trying to salvage the night but you snatch the device from his hands. He raises his brows, wondering what you have in mind.

“Let’s stay in. We can cook something, play a couple of games… Other stuff.” You respond, and Zayne fights back a smile. It’s great to have someone pick up his slack. “I found this new recipe that I’ve been dying to try.”

“Tell me what you need, and I’m on it.” He says, and you can’t help but smile. He’s willing to do anything when you have his attention.

“I think we have everything, I just need you to chop up some stuff.” You tell him, and he nods in response. He’s not a great cook since he barely has the time or energy to make his own meals, but at the very least he’s great at chopping up stuff. “You can be my sous chef.”

“Yes, ma’am.” There’s a subtle smile on his lips, and it overflows your heart with joy when you notice it. You wonder why he smiles but it’s never unwelcome. Especially from him.

You kiss his cheek before telling him, “Let’s get to work.”

After nearly burning the house down trying the new recipe, you surprisingly end up with a delicious meal on your table. You’re enjoying your meal, too busy stuffing your face to keep up a proper conversation. You don’t need to talk either way, each other’s presence is enough to satisfy any need for interaction. Though Zayne can’t help but comment,

“Surprisingly it doesn’t taste burnt.” Which makes you roll your eyes. He can’t help but bring it up when you told him a million times that you had it under wraps.

“I told you I had it handled.” You respond. “Or do you not have faith in me, Dr. Zayne?”

“Dr. Zayne?” He raises a brow, and you hum in response. He lets out a low laugh before answering, “I do have faith in you… But I am allowed to draw some conclusions when I see a flame coming from the pan.”

“That wasn’t a flame.” You argue, and he slightly shakes his head.

“Then why did the fire alarm go off?” He points out, and you puff out a breath. You cross your arms, your appetite gone because your boyfriend won’t allow you to have the last word. He never does, and it might be his only defect. He couldn’t be perfect.

“Next time I’m leaving the cooking to you then.” You pout. He doesn’t want you to feel bad for the light fire, it could happen to anyone plus you were cooking a new recipe.

“You’re a far better cook than I am.” He responds, hoping that it’ll make you feel better. He’s staring at you, trying to decipher what you feel based on the expression on your face. You only stick out your bottom lip, clearly not happy with what he’s said.

What did he say wrong? He said all the right words, you should be gleaming not… Looking disappointed.

“Only because you don’t have time to pick up the skill, if you did then you would be saying something far much different.” You end up telling him, and he takes a moment to look at your face. He’s not sure how to answer. He ends up by telling the truth,

“Probably.” And the moment the word leaves his lips, he realizes he couldn’t have picked a worse answer. You look absolutely mortified, and he doesn’t know how to deal with it.

“Probably? You’re not supposed to say that.” You say, and he gives you a subtle nod. He’s not supposed to tell you the truth then.

“What am I supposed to say then?” He sounds ever so serious, and one swift look at his face makes you think that he is, indeed, serious.

“No, I doubt it. You’re the best cook ever, dear.” You end up answering, almost laughing at your own response. You see a twinge of a smirk on his face, and you feel like you’ve accomplished something. He lets himself loose around you, and often laughs at any stupid joke that you make, but it still feels rare when you actually see him smile.

“Alright then, so not the truth. Simple.” He answers, and the smirk that comes to his lips doesn’t fill you with pride like it usually does. You puff out a breath and he says, “Repeat the statement.”

“No.” Your answer is firm, therefore he won’t bug you to do it. He’ll drop the subject.

You two continue eating, and for once he’s the one that makes most of the conversation. He should apologize, he should’ve chosen better words.

“If it makes you feel better, the one time I plan a date… It starts to rain.” Zayne hopes that by admitting his own failures, he’ll make you feel better. You can’t help but chuckle.

“That doesn’t mean that you suck, it just means that the weather isn’t on your side.” You reassure him, face turning to look out the window. The rain still falls, much harder than before. “Plus I’m enjoying the date. Well, I was before you–”

“In my defense, I was initially complimenting the dish.” He argues, and you can’t help but laugh. A petty argument from a compliment. Though you’d argue that it was backhanded, Zayne isn’t all that great with words– Unless it’s with him coming up with a witty comeback, or of course, explaining medical terminology.

“How about you start cleaning up while I look for a game we can play?” You change the topic as you finish up your meal. Zayne immediately nods, more than willing to fulfill the task that you’ve assigned. He begins to clear the table, and you stand up to look for the games that are hidden away. Games that you’ve gotten to play with him but you’ve never had the time to actually sit down together and figure out.

You look for something that’ll make the night more fun, and also something that you have yet to play… But you still land on an old game. Something that gets both of you competitive. You end up pulling an old game that you’ve played a dozen times with him. A game that makes you want to break up with him, but when you make up it’s a memorable night.

You set up the table with the game, and wait for Zayne to finish up in the kitchen. You’d offer to help if he was doing any other task, but you aren’t going out of your way to clean up, even if it is to help your amazing boyfriend. Maybe you can take a peek at the cards as you wait for him to come back to the table.

“Okay, I’m ready.” Zayne walks back to the table, grabbing the cards that you definitely didn’t take a quick look at, and shuffling them. “Who’s going first?”

“I am. I don’t trust you while playing kitty cards.” You respond, and he hands out two cards. You frown as you look at them, knowing that you’re starting off on a bad foot. Your assist cards can help you make a comeback, so you’re only praying you get lucky with that.

“I should be the one saying that, I saw you look at the cards.” He lets out a low laugh as he gives himself three cards. He takes a seat across from you before commenting, “Given by the look on your face, you didn’t get all that lucky.”

“I’m going to win. Mark my words.”

Though you’re as competitive as you can be, luck simply isn’t on your side. Zayne doesn’t help your case, using every card that he has, against your favor. You glare at him with every move he takes, and he smirks, proud of his every move.

“Can you leave me alone? I barely have any points, there’s no point for you to null my card.” You complain, and Zayne shakes his head.

“I have to take every possible precaution.” He answers, putting down a card that takes away your turn– And if that isn’t horrible enough, he takes away one of the kitty cards that you’ve put down. “Last time you won, I heard about it for weeks.”

“Last time I lost, you also heard about it for weeks. Matter of fact, we almost broke up.” You point out, and you watch as the corner of his lips turn. He’s trying his best to fight back a smile, and you have to roll your eyes. “And if you keep up with your act, we might actually break up.”

“It’s just a game of kitty cards.” Zayne says, which makes you glare at him. You cross your arms, a scoff leaving your lips. Just a game of kitty cards? The game becomes a very serious matter when you’re as competitive as you are.

“If you don’t take it seriously, then you should let me win.” You claim, and Zayne knows that unless he stops playing, your date will completely go sour. He just fixed matters after his unnecessary comment, he can’t let himself nearly ruin the date once again. He could try to let you win, but at this point there’s no way you can make a comeback. Plus, it’s not satisfactory for him.

“How about we stop.” He suggests, and you know you can’t win.

“Fine.” You answer, a hint of attitude in your voice just so he notes that you’re not happy with him.

“What were we going to do today?” You ask him, beginning to clear the table. The sight of the unfair game is keeping you mad, so it’s best to clean up. Zayne joins you.

“Stargazing.” He responds, which perks up your eyebrows. Where exactly? “It’s a place not too far from here that gives a perfect view of the city, and I thought it’d be a nice date. I bought a couple of snacks to have a late picnic, but the universe isn’t on my side.”

“That is such a cute date!” You comment, eyes looking out the window to see that the rain has calmed down. “We can still do it.”

Zayne looks in the same direction. It’s not what he pictured, but it’s not a bad idea.

“Just for a minute.” He grabs your hand, fingers intertwining with yours before he guides you outside. Your anger is long forgotten when you feel his large hand lightly squeezing your own. There’s still some light rain when you exit the place, but you aren’t staying outside for too long so it’s not an issue.

“Look, there’s a full moon.” You immediately point to the sky. The clouds had been hiding the moon all night, and now you finally get a chance to glance at it. “Just look at it, it’s so beautiful.”

“It really is beautiful.” He answers, though his eyes aren’t looking at the moon. His thumb traces lazy circles on the back of your hand, as he finally looks up at the sky. Stargazing is a dumb date if you aren’t going to the countryside. In a way, he’s glad his plans were ruined.

You look back at Zayne, a foolish smile coming to your lips. Stargazing would’ve been nice, even if you don’t get a great sight, laying next to him for a whole night is the type of date that you need. You don’t even need to talk, each other’s presence is more than enough for you to be satisfied.

“Why are you smiling?” He finally looks back at you. It’s not a complaint, he’s overjoyed to find you smiling. He just wonders what’s going on in your mind. Two fingers come up to his face, brushing away the hair that’s on his forehead before you get on your tip-toes to press a kiss on it.

“You are so cute.” You tell him, and he chuckles. Out of all words that you could’ve picked, cute is the one that he least expected.

“Cute?” He responds, and you hum in response. Nevertheless, it’s a compliment so he’ll accept it. He smiles back at you, gaze getting lost into your eyes. You have the most beautiful eyes he’s ever seen, maybe that’s the reason he’s so desperately in love with you. “Cute. I’ll take it.”

“Let’s go inside before you get sick.” There’s a mischievous smile on your lips as you say the words. He’s the one that usually says the phrase, but the tables have turned. Zayne lets go of your hand, hands falling on your waist before pulling you closer.

“Let’s enjoy the moment a little longer, I don’t mind getting sick.” His nose brushes against yours, his eyes looking into yours ever so lovingly. His supple lips land on yours, pulling away within seconds. “It’s barely even raining.”

“Just a minute then.” You tell him, and he nods in response. However, Zayne doesn’t care to look at the sky. Apart from the full moon, there’s nothing that’s worth noting.

He loves the feeling of the rain on his skin, every droplet is a subtle reminder that this is real. He’s living in the moment. What’s happening right now is not a fragment of his imagination. The way you look at him, the way you laugh, the way your hands wrap behind his neck– It’s all real.

“Okay, we should go now. I don’t want you to get sick… And I also don’t want to get sick.” You say, and he smiles. He lets go of you, allowing you to go inside without an issue. You’re not going inside without him though. You grab Zayne’s hand and drag him inside, knowing that if he gets sick, you’ll end up getting sick as well.

“I’m going to get changed.” You tell him, and he mindlessly follows. He’s seen you naked many times, there’s no need to be shy… Except he is the one that gets shy at the mere thought of seeing you naked. He’s already flustered at the idea of you getting changed; but he still follows.

“What do you want to do now? Watch a movie?” You ask him, getting to the room. There’s a sudden increase in temperature– Or is it just Zayne? Why does he feel hot?

“A movie… Sounds fun.” He swallows thickly, watching as you begin to lift up your shirt. His cheeks turn pink at the sight of some skin, but you never take off your shirt. You notice he’s staring, and you fight back on smirking.

“Do you have something else in mind?” You watch him step towards you, ever so slowly. He’s hesitating. Should he? He doesn’t want to turn the sweet night into something… More. But he does.

He wants to feel every inch of you, and frankly, the shirt that you have on outlines everything which doesn’t really help. Maybe he’s a pervert for the thoughts that creep into his head, but it’s hard to think differently when you look like this right before him.

Before you know it, Zayne’s lips land on yours, tongue exploring your mouth before it finds your own. His tongue presses against yours while his hands desperately try to take off the damp clothes that cover your body. Very skilled hands struggle, nerves overtaking him at the thought of feeling your body. An action he’s done many times before, but he turns into putty each and every time.

You’re not as nervous though, hands going to his belt and unbuckling it without an issue. Your hands go into his boxers, feeling him up which makes the man pathetically whimper into your kiss. He can come undone from a single move. And even when your hands are wrapped around his cock, he’s too nervous to touch under your shirt.

You pull away, a string of saliva connecting your lips until you pull far enough that the bond breaks. You take off your shirt, and Zayne is watching you as if he were a teenager all over again. Cheeks burn red at the sight of some skin, it’s truly pathetic. It’s not just some skin though, you’re getting completely undressed in front of him.

“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” He’s dumbfounded, it’s as if he’s never seen this before. This is nothing new to him, but it always feels like the first time… That’s a good thing, right?

His lips land on yours again, though he takes more risks this time as his hand fondles your breast. His lips don’t last long on your mouth, choosing to kiss down your neck, before his lips land on your breasts. His lips kiss every inch of your skin before his tongue circles around your nipple.

It’s nice, but you need more. Your body is begging to feel every inch of him. Luckily for you, it’s as if Zayne can read your mind.

“I need to taste more of you. Please.” There’s desperation behind his eyes, it’s as if he needs it. You get on the bed for him, legs spreading without a shame in the world.He stares down at you and he licks his lips. Maybe this is how he should’ve led the date in the first place.

“You’re so gorgeous.” He says as he gets on his knees. He kisses your inner thigh, working his way up. So gentle and shy, but he doesn’t want to get ahead of himself. Doing things slowly is what makes this more exciting.

“Smells so sweet.” He finally gets to your pussy, the tip of his nose pressing against your clit before he kisses it. His lips feel so soft on you. He kisses your clit again before his tongue begins to flick it. Tastes even better than he remembered.

Sweeter than he could ever imagine.

Low moans escape your lips as you feel his tongue work on you. The sound of your voice is perfect, all the motivation he needs to do this. It’s his reward for the night, and he couldn’t be happier. It’s perfect. You’re perfect.

He kisses your clit, two long fingers running through your folds to gather your slick. Once his fingers are lubricated enough, he slowly pushes them in. He begins to suck on your clit and your eyes roll to the back of your head. You moan his name, pleasure already consuming you.

He curves his fingers so they hit just the right spot. You bite down your lip, feeling embarrassed at the thought of being too loud. He’s looking up at you, and the look on your face is something he wants to have ingrained in his memory.

His fingers pick up speed, and your hands grip the bed sheets. Pleasure consumes you, your climax slowly overtaking your body. You’re moaning his name again, unable to contain yourself as sex clouds your mind.

“That’s it, baby! That’s so good.” You can’t help yourself as your boyfriend hits all the right spots. It’s music to his ears. Even when he’s been congratulated for his many achievements, this is the best thing he’s ever heard.

Your breath gets caught up in your chest, your body quivering as you finally reach your climax. Zayne pulls out his fingers, tongue continuing to lap at your cunt until he’s finally satisfied. He presses a kiss on your clit when he’s finished.

“I need you, baby. Please.” You say, and Zayne can’t afford to waste another moment. It hurts to even think with the uncomfortable feeling that’s in his pants. He walks to the nightstand to get the bottle of lube before giving all his attention to you. He gets undressed before getting on top of you.

“Are you sure you want this?” Zayne asks as he pours the lube all over his dick. Maybe he should consider some sort of protection, but he needs to fully feel you. He needs to feel every inch of your body.

“I need you, please. Give it to me.” Your voice is enough to drive him wild. He runs the tip of his cock through your folds before slowly pushing himself into you. He bites his lip, not wanting the pathetic noise that leaves his throat to be audible. You feel so nice and warm around his cock, so fucking perfect in every single way.

“It’s so good.” He mutters, eyes nearly rolling to the back of his head as he feels you around him. He bottoms out, stopping to give you time to adjust.

“Move.” You tell him, and Zayne begins to move with slow thrusts. His eyes focus on your face, watching as it contorts with pleasure. It’s hard for him to not get nervous when you look like this, so fucking perfect.

“You’re so tight.” He says, hands gripping the bed sheets. Your legs wrap around his waist, hands going to the back of your neck to push him down. Your lips meet his in a messy but passionate kiss.

You drive him insane.

“You’re doing so good, baby.” You praise him, and you hear a groan come from his throat. His thrusts pick up speed, slowly losing himself inside of you. All composure comes undone when it comes to you.

He watches your hand move down your torso, and before you can even finish your thought, his hand takes over. His fingers play with your clit, doing everything just right. Your eyes are rolling to the back of your head, moaning his name over and over again.

“Fuck.” He curses, a word that rarely leaves his lips. But what else can he say when you’re squeezing around him? He shuts his eyes, too overwhelmed by everything that goes on. Your hands go to his back, nails digging into his soft flesh which makes him moan– The slight pain heightens the pleasure.

“Zayne, I’m gonna–” You begin, pleasure overtaking your body as another climax approaches. Zayne hits all the right spots, he simply knows your body too well.

“I know, dear. I know.” He’s out of breath. He’s close too. It’s just too much for him to handle. But you’re one step ahead of him. Your nails drag along the skin of his back as pleasure gets the best of you. You see white, finally reaching your high.

“Good job.” He praises you, knowing that he’s not going to last much. You’re just too much for him, which in the context, is a wonderful thing. His thrusts get sloppy, getting more vocal by the second.

“Can I finish inside?” He asks, and you frantically nod your head, not even having the words to say yes. You pull him into a kiss, and he groans into it as he releases his warm cum into you. A dragged out sigh leaves his lips when he pulls away from the kiss.

He stays buried inside of you, not wanting to leave your warmth just yet. He stares into your eyes for a bit, getting lost in them once again. There’s a certain spark in them, one that he’s noticed only appears when you look at him. The same spark that appears in his eyes.

“Can we cuddle?” You ask him as he pulls out of you. He lays down beside you, turning his head to look at your sweaty face.

“Clean up first.” He says, though you don’t listen and nuzzle up next to him. He rolls his eyes, but he still wraps his arms around you. “I admit, this is much better than stargazing.”

“We could’ve done that there too.” You respond without missing a beat, and his face gets completely red. He definitely wasn’t imagining that. He supposes that you could’ve, but it wouldn’t be as special– It would be even more special, it just would be indecent.

“I like it better here.” He tells you, pressing a kiss on the top of your head. “It’s warm, and there’s no bugs around.”

“You’re right.” You chuckle. “Could you imagine if a mosquito bit you–”

“How about I run you a bath?” Zayne cuts you off, knowing that the question that’s about to leave your lips is absurd. He doesn’t want to hear it.

“Will you join me?” You question, getting off him. He takes a moment to look at you before nodding in response.

A bath sounds nice.

1K notes · View notes

lizziesangel · 26 days ago

Text

RAFE CAMERON ⟢ finding you again

x FEM!POGUE!reader ⟢ MASTERLIST

SUMMARY: based on this request

WORD COUNT: +2.8k

GENRE: fluff

CONTENT WARNING: /

the boarding process was chaotic, as it always was. you adjusted the strap of your backpack and shuffled into the cramped airplane aisle, eyes scanning for your seat. 14B. a window seat would’ve been nice, but you weren’t complaining—after all, this trip had been a splurge, something you worked overtime for over the past few months.

you reached your row, stowing your bag beneath the seat and tucking yourself into place. as you fastened your seatbelt, you glanced at the other seat, wondering who your seatmate for the next several hours would be.

a moment later, someone bumped into your row, muttering an absentminded “excuse me.” you looked up, and your breath got caught in your throat. he was tall, with tousled dirty-blonde hair, a strong jawline, and piercing blue eyes that momentarily made you forget how to speak. he wore a fitted polo and expensive sneakers that looked like they’d never touched dirt.

“i’m in seat 14A,” he said, glancing at his boarding pass and then back at you.

you slid out to let him in, offering a polite smile.

“guess we’re seatmates,” he smiled back at you for a split second, trying to move smoothly into his seat.

“looks like it,” you replied, sliding back into your seat.

he barely spared you another glance as he stashed his carry-on and pulled out a pair of noise-canceling headphones.

charming, you thought wryly, sitting back down. the plane filled up quickly, and soon the flight attendants were going through safety protocols. you fiddled with your seatbelt nervously as the plane began to move.

you’d flown a handful of times before, but the thought of being 30,000 feet in the air still made you jittery. as the plane picked up speed and lifted off, you gripped the armrest tightly, staring straight ahead.

“not a fan of flying?” a voice drawled beside you.

you turned, surprised to see your seatmate watching you. his headphones were draped around his neck now, and the amused tilt of his lips made you feel both annoyed and flustered.

“not really,” you admitted, forcing a shaky laugh. “it’s the turbulence. feels like the plane’s going to fall out of the sky.”

“it’s not,” he said with a shrug. “just air pockets. completely normal.”

you raised an eyebrow. “you sound awfully confident.”

“i fly a lot,” he said, leaning back in his seat. “you get used to it.”

“well, lucky you,” you muttered, clutching the armrest harder as the plane jostled again.

he chuckled. “relax. i’ll tell you if you need to worry.”

“oh, thanks,” you said sarcastically, but his teasing smile made your nerves ease—just a little.

“i’m rafe, by the way. rafe cameron” he offered after a moment, holding out his hand.

“y/n, y/n l/n,” you replied, shaking it. his hand was warm, his grip firm but not overpowering.

“well, y/n, if it helps, i’ve flown through way worse. one time, i swear the plane dropped a hundred feet out of nowhere. people were screaming and everything.”

“wow, that’s so comforting,” you deadpanned, glaring at him, letting go of his hand.

he grinned, his eyes lighting up with amusement. “hey, you’re not screaming yet, so i think we’re doing okay.”

despite yourself, you felt your lips twitch into a reluctant smile. “you’re the worst.”

“so i’ve been told.”

“you heading home?” he added.

“yeah,” you said, nodding. “you?”

“same.”

that was the extent of the small talk for a while. but as the plane leveled out and the seatbelt sign dinged off, rafe turned to you again.

“vacation or work?” he asked, nodding toward your book, which you hadn’t yet opened.

“vacation,” you said, brightening at the topic. “i saved up for months. it wasn’t anything fancy, but it was nice to get away. what about you?”

“vacation or work?” he asked, nodding toward your book, which you hadn’t yet opened.

“vacation,” you said, brightening at the topic. “i saved up for months. it wasn’t anything fancy, but it was nice to get away. what about you?”

“bit of both,” he said vaguely. “you were saying something about working hard for your vacation?”

you blinked, surprised he was picking up the conversation. “yeah,” you said with a small smile. “it’s not easy juggling two jobs, but it’s worth it. i needed the break.”

“two jobs?” he repeated, raising an eyebrow. “what, are you some kind of workaholic?”

you laughed. “not by choice. life’s expensive, in case you haven’t noticed.”

“can’t relate,” he quipped, a lopsided grin forming.

you snorted. “gee, must be nice.”

he chuckled, leaning a little closer. “so, where’d you go on vacation? Somewhere fancy?”

“not exactly,” you said. “it was just a little beach town. quiet mornings, lots of reading. nothing fancy, but it was perfect.”

“sounds nice,” he admitted. “i could use a quiet beach day.”

“yeah? you don’t strike me as the ‘quiet’ type,” you teased.

rafe smirked, his eyes narrowing playfully. “what type do i strike you as?”

you paused, tapping your chin dramatically. “hmm… definitely a bit of a troublemaker.”

he laughed, a deep, genuine sound that made your stomach flutter. “fair enough. but you don’t seem like the type to mind a little trouble.”

your cheeks warmed, and you turned back to your menu to hide your grin. “anyway,” you said, clearing your throat. “i’m starving. what’s good on here?”

when the flight attendants began serving meals, you opted for a sandwich and a soda, while rafe got some kind of pasta dish. you were mid-bite, listening to him tell an exaggerated story about a “friend”—who you strongly suspected was actually him—accidentally starting a fire while trying to cook.

“i’m telling you, the pan just caught on fire out of nowhere,” he insisted, grinning.

“uh-huh,” you said, raising an eyebrow. “and the fire department just happened to show up because they missed you?”

“exactly,” he said with mock seriousness. “small-town charm.”

you laughed, shaking your head. “remind me never to let you near my kitchen.”

as you spoke, you reached for your soda but accidentally knocked it over, sending the can tumbling onto rafe’s tray. a stream of cola splashed across his shirt and onto the seat between you.

“oh my gosh, i’m so sorry!” you gasped, grabbing a handful of napkins from your tray.

rafe looked down at his soaked shirt, then back at you, an amused glint in his eyes. “well, there goes my clean look.”

“i’ll fix it!” you said, hurriedly dabbing at the fabric, your face burning.

he laughed, holding up his hands. “relax, it’s just a shirt. don’t have a heart attack.”

but you were already in damage control mode, muttering apologies as you tried to blot out the stain. rafe leaned back, smirking. “if i didn’t know better, i’d think you planned this. just wanted an excuse to get your hands on me, huh?”

you froze, wide-eyed, before realizing he was joking. “oh, please,” you shot back, swatting his arm. “if i wanted to touch you, i’d at least come up with a better excuse.”

“fair point,” he said, laughing as he grabbed some napkins to help.

for the next few minutes, the two of you worked together to clean up the mess, your hands occasionally brushing as you both reached for the same spot. each accidental touch sent a little jolt through you, but you tried to ignore it, focusing on the task at hand.

when the seat was finally cola-free, you sighed in relief, sitting back. “crisis averted.”

“barely,” rafe said, grinning as he peeled off his damp hoodie to reveal a fitted white t-shirt underneath. “guess this’ll have to do.”

you tried not to stare at how well the shirt fit him, opting instead to focus on your tray. “i owe you a soda,” you mumbled, still embarrassed.

“nah,” he said, waving it off. “you can pay me back by telling me more about your vacation. sounds like you had a better time than i did.”

as the flight continued, you found yourself laughing more than you had in weeks. he had a knack for making even mundane stories sound exciting, and his occasional self-deprecating humor made him surprisingly endearing.

“so, let me get this straight,” you said at one point, barely containing your laughter. “you jumped into a fountain because you thought someone threw your wallet in there?”

“it looked like my wallet!” he said defensively, though his grin betrayed his amusement. “how was i supposed to know it was a dead fish?”

you doubled over, tears forming in your eyes. “i can’t believe you—wait, no, i totally can.”

“careful,” he teased. “you’re starting to sound like you like me.”

you rolled your eyes, though your cheeks warmed at his words. “you’d wish that.”

“maybe,” he said, his voice low and playful.

the banter flowed easily, the hours slipping by without you noticing. by the time the plane began its descent, you were half-convinced this was the most fun you’d ever had on a flight.

that was, until he asked the question that ruined it all.

“so,” he asked casually, leaning back in his seat. “what do you do for work again?”

you hesitated for a moment, unsure if he’d be impressed or dismissive. but there was something about his casual curiosity that made you answer honestly.

“i work at the library part-time, and i help out at the wreck during the evenings. It’s busy, but I don’t mind.”

“the wreck?” he repeated, his brow furrowing slightly.

“yeah,” you said, smiling. “best fish tacos on the island.”

“you live near the wreck?” he asked, though his tone had lost its earlier playfulness.

“yeah,” you said, still smiling. “over in the cut.”

rafe leaned back, his expression unreadable now. something in his demeanor shifted, like a door quietly closing.

“you live near the wreck?” he asked, his tone suddenly more clipped.

“over in the cut,” you said, still unaware of the change. “why?”

and just like that, the bubble burst.

there it was—the flash of recognition in his eyes. the name of the cut was like a cold bucket of water thrown over whatever budding warmth had been building between you.

“you’re a pogue,” he said, his voice low.

the word hit you square in the chest. it wasn’t a question; it was a fact, said with a mix of disbelief and something else—something bitter.

“is that… a problem?” you asked cautiously, your smile faltering.

rafe shook his head, but the tension in his jaw told a different story. “no,” he said flatly, turning his attention to the window. “no problem at all.”

the conversation died a swift, painful death. every time you glanced at him, he was staring straight ahead or out the window, his body angled slightly away from you. the easy banter and gentle teasing were gone, replaced by an invisible wall that felt insurmountable.

you tried once or twice to reignite the conversation, asking about his vacation or his favorite spots back in kildare. but his answers were curt, bordering on dismissive. eventually, you gave up, sinking into your seat with a knot in your chest.

when the plane landed, rafe was up and out of his seat before you could say goodbye. he muttered something that might’ve been “see you around,” but it was drowned out by the noise of disembarking passengers.

as you watched him walk away, a bitter pang of embarrassment settled in your stomach. you’d thought, just for a moment, that you’d made a connection with him. but apparently, the line between kook and pogue was still as unyielding as ever.

the wreck was in full swing, the clatter of plates and hum of conversations filling the air. you had just clocked out for a break, grabbing your sandwich and heading to your second-hand car parked at the edge of the lot. it wasn’t much—a little beat-up around the edges and prone to overheating—but it was your sanctuary.

sliding into the driver’s seat, you let out a long sigh. the noise of the restaurant faded as you closed the door, leaving only the quiet hum of the parking lot. you unwrapped your sandwich and sank into the seat, scrolling idly through your phone as you ate.

for a brief moment, the world felt peaceful.

back inside, rafe cameron walked through the door, his sharp blue eyes scanning the room. dressed casually but still managing to draw attention, he hesitated by the counter before making his way to kiara, who was wiping down the counter.

“where is she? where’s y/n?” he asked, his voice low but firm.

kiara froze, looking up at him with a glare that could cut steel. “why do you care?”

“i just need to talk to her,” rafe said, running a hand through his hair.

“talk?” she asked, narrowing her eyes. “like how you talked to her on the plane? because that worked out great, ” she crossed her arms, her expression hardening.

“so, no. you’re not talking to her.”

“come on, kie,” rafe said, exasperated. “i just want to apologize.”

“you want to apologize?” kie scoffed. “what’s the catch, rafe? did your dad send you to buy her silence or something?”

“you don’t get to ignore her and then show up like it’s no big deal. you kooks are all the same—thinking you can just waltz in and fix everything with some half-assed apology.”

“it’s not like that,” rafe said, his voice softening. “i know i screwed up. i just—i panicked, okay? i wasn’t sure how my dad would react if i told him i wanted to take a pogue on a date.”

kie’s eyes narrowed. “so instead, you made her feel like crap? real smooth, cameron.”

“i know,” rafe admitted, his tone filled with frustration. “i messed up, but i want to make it right. please, kie. where is she?”

kie hesitated, her glare softening slightly before she sighed and gestured toward the parking lot. “she’s on break. but if you hurt her again, i’ll make sure you regret it.”

rafe nodded, already heading toward the door.

you were halfway through your sandwich when you heard footsteps on the gravel. looking up, you saw rafe approaching, his hands shoved into his pockets.

you groaned internally, setting your food aside. “What are you doing here?” you asked, your tone sharper than intended.

“I needed to talk to you,” he said, stopping just outside your car.

“i’m on break,” you said flatly. “this better be good.”

“what do you want?”

he took a deep breath, his eyes meeting yours. “i’m sorry.”

you blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity in his voice. “for what?”

“for being an idiot,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “on the plane, after i realized you were a... pogue… i panicked. it wasn’t fair to you, and i hate that i made you feel like you weren’t worth my time. you are.”

you stared at him, your heart warring with your anger. “you panicked?”

“you panicked? that’s your excuse for acting like a total jerk?”

rafe nodded, his expression earnest. “i wasn’t sure how my dad would react if i… he’s… not exactly open-minded, and i wasn’t... sure—”

you raised an eyebrow, your voice edged with disbelief. “so instead of handling it, you decided to shut me out and act like i didn’t matter?”

“i know,” he said quickly, stepping closer. “i know i messed up. i just—i’m not used to this.”

“this?” you repeated, your frustration bubbling over. “what, treating people like equals?”

rafe flinched, shaking his head. “that’s not what i meant. i mean… ”

“i’ve never felt like this before.”

the quiet sincerity in his voice gave you pause. you studied him, your anger softening just a fraction.

“we were having a good time, and then you just… shut me out. like i wasn’t good enough for you.”

“i know,” he said, his voice almost a whisper. “and i hate that i made you feel like that. you are good enough—better than i deserve, probably. i just… i didn’t know how to deal with it.”

you looked away, unsure of what to say. part of you wanted to yell at him, to tell him he didn’t deserve another chance. but another part of you—the part that remembered the easy laughter and connection you’d shared—wanted to believe he meant it.

“i don’t know if i can believe you,” you said finally, your voice steady but soft.

“i get that,” he said, his tone steady. “but let me prove it. i’ll do whatever it takes.”

you hesitated, the silence stretching between you. finally, you sighed. “you’ve got a lot to prove, cameron.”

a small smile tugged at his lips. “i will. i promise.”

“good,” you said, brushing past him. “now go. my break’s over.”

as you walked back toward the wreck, you glanced over your shoulder. rafe was still standing by your car, watching you with a look that made your chest ache.

maybe, just maybe, he meant what he said.

#lizzieswrites𝜗𝜚 #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x pogue!reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x you

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indulgentdaydream · 1 year ago

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Can you write something where the reader is badly injured in some way and jason rushes her to the manor for help and everybody is confused on who she is bc they didnt even know he was in a relationship (despite them being together for awhile) but they see how soft and cute he is with her. (I’ve never made a request so sorry if it got kinda rambley)

anon you’ve got me TEEMING with ideas I LOVE the trope of nobody knowing jason has a girlfriend and they find out but it is NOT by Jason’s choice nor reader’s.

Also omg? Your first ask is to lil ol me?? That means this is a special occassion. And you’re doing great I’ve def sent worse asks.

Out of the Bag

Jason Todd x Fem!Reader || Hurt and Comfort.

Word Count: 1,862

Warnings: Injuries, swearing, near death experience, blood, knife mention, stabbing, canon-typical violence, use of pet names (princess, baby), drug (pain med) use

You were sat in an alleyway, vision going in and out.

“Tell me something, princess. Anything.” Jason’s voice rang out in your ear.

That’s right. In your right hand, you held your phone, to your ear. Your other hand was pressing the fabric of your coat to the side of your stomach. The blood had soaked through, becoming sticking on your palm and fingers.

You should’ve listened to Jason. You shouldn’t have walked home alone, at night. Luckily your phone had been in your pocket and not your purse, which had been stolen from you by the same guy who decided to stab you.

“Princess,” he sounded panicked.

Right. “Wish I had kicked him harder.”

You heard a sigh of relief leave him, “That’s my girl.”

The phone slipped from your grip a little as your head swam. The sight of blood coming from your own abdomen made no help in quelling your nausea.

You fixed the phone. You had called Jason the second the guy ran off, leaving you to bleed out. He was driving, you think. Tracking your phone to try and get to you. “How far?”

He said something you didn’t hear. Your vision was swimming, your side was aching, and you couldn’t help but keep this funny understanding out of your mind that you were dying.

That this is something Jason had come back to your apartment with a few times, claiming it was nothing. It was something.

You heard him call your name, “What’s around you?”

“I’m tired,” you mumbled.

It seemed to happen in a blink of an eye. Jason was trying to tell you to stay awake, to look at the alley around you. To look out towards the street and tell him what you saw. Then he was there, standing in front of you, his helmet hiding his face.

“I’m here. I’m here, baby.” He cupped your face, tapping your cheek to get you to open up your eyes. He crouched down, pulling your hand from your side to assess the damage.

You smiled lazily and leaned forward, resting your forehead against his shoulder.

Jason muttered a slew of swears as he pressed something soft yet hard against your agonizing wound. You let out a yelp before Jason was picking you up, placing you on his bike.

He’s talking fast, “Fuck. Okay, listen to me. We’re going to go somewhere new, okay? There’s nowhere around here except there for me to get you safe.”

You passed out nearly as soon as he started the bike.

Jason’s freaking. He had tried to keep you safe from anything like this. From everything less than this. And here you were, bleeding out in his arms as he carried you through the batcave. He beelined for the cots and the medical supplies off to the side. He knows his motorcycle couldn’t have been the smoothest of rides for someone in your condition, but it’s all he had in such a short time span.

He’ll apologize when you wake up.

When. He repeats. When she wakes up and when we can get the hell out of this place again and when I can remind her I love her.

No one was back from patrol yet. He set you down on the cot before tearing off his helmet. He tossed it aside, pulling out a med bag and ripping it open. He pushed up your shirt, examining your side and where he had placed the military-grade gauze pad. He curses at the amount of blood.

His hands are shaking. Jason’s hands don’t shake, but you’ve proven to him a lot of things you could make him do that he hadn’t known he was capable of in the last year and (almost) a half of your relationship.

Jason nearly drops the suture thread before another hand is reaching out from just behind him. It catches the thread and Jason looks back over his shoulder. Alfred’s there, moving up to you.

“Allow me. You keep checking her vitals.”

Jason hadn’t even heard him come up. He’s nodding, stepping back to let Alfred take over the stitching. He moves to the other side of the bed.

That’s when he catches sight of the dark figure moving closer from behind Alfred. Jason immediately fixes him with a deadly glare, pointing at Bruce, “Do not come closer!”

Bruce stills. He’s in his bat suit, his cowl hanging behind his head, exposing his face. He looks down to your body, “Who is she?”

Jason doesn’t want him here. Rather, he doesn’t want to be here. You should’ve been home by now. Getting ready for bed and sending him a goodnight text. He turns his gaze back to you.

There’s some hair across your face that he hadn’t noticed. He moves it out of your way without a second thought, “My girlfriend.”

“Finally feel some remorse for sending someone to their grave, Todd?” Damian’s voice spoke up, walking up and stopping beside Bruce, “He’s probably trying to just reverse what he did.”

Jason ignores him. He wants to yell, scream, and maybe shoot the little bastard, but he was right. In a way, this was his fault. He didn’t look after you. He should’ve offered you a ride. Called you a taxi. An uber. Anything.

Jason grips your hand into his. It’s a way to count your heartbeat, and another way to ground himself. To reassure that you’ll be okay. His other hand stays on your cheek. His thumb gently moves back and forth, stroking your skin.

He barely registers Bruce telling Damian to go wash up. When the brat is gone, Bruce speaks up again, “What happened?”

Jason doesn’t take his eyes off of you, “She was walking home from her friend’s. A mugger got her purse, she fought back. He stabbed her.” Jason takes a deep breath, “She still had her phone. She called me. I brought her here because it was closest.”

A beat of silence. Still stitching you up, Alfred speaks, “How come we’ve never been introduced?”

Jason shakes his head, “I didn’t want her near any of this. She’s bad off enough sticking with me.”

Once you stabilize, Jason brings you up to his room in the manor. He walks past Dick, Tim, Duke, Cass, and Steph without looking at them. They sit around the batcomputer, watching Jason gently carry you out ot the cave.

He changes you out of your dirty clothes once he makes a run back to your apartment to grab you some of your own spare clothes.

Asides from that, he doesn’t leave your side.

He lets you have the bed to yourself. He pulls up a chair beside it, waiting for you to wake up. He didn’t want you to be alone when you did, in a strange place after a traumatic event. It was a recipe for disaster.

The sun’s been up for a long while and Jason hasn’t budged. He sits there, your hand gripped in both of his, held up and pressed against his mouth. His lips brush over your knuckles whenever he speaks up. Uttering a “I’m sorry.” every now and then.

There’s a light knock at the door before it’s cracking open. Jason turns his head to find Dick poking his head in. Jason glares at him.

Dick steps further in, presenting the tray he was holding. There were two glasses of water, some solid foods, and lighter ones, probably for you. Jason looked back down at you, letting his older brother enter.

“Just… figured since you’ve been cooped up in here all day,” Dick begins, setting the tray down on the beside table beside Jason.

Dick moves back around. He stands at the end of the bed, leaning against the tall bed post that was meant to hold up a canopy. “I heard…” he trails off, before nodding and your body in the bed, still unconscious, “Who is she?”

Jason looks up at his brother, not letting go of your hand, “So you haven’t heard.”

Dick rolls his eyes, “You know what I mean.”

Jason raises his brows a little. He looks back down at you. His hand reaches out to brush along your forehead, moving away imaginary stray hairs, “My girl.”

Dick nods in understanding, “How long you two been together.”

Jason pauses in thought, “Over a year. Our anniversary was in December.”

A small, choked sound comes from outside the door, in the hallway. “A year?”

Jason looks up at Dick, who makes a face that shows he’s knows he’s been caught.

“Are they seriously listening right now?”

Steph poked her head in first, an apologetic smile on her face, “We wanted to know!”

Duke pokes his head in next, just above Steph’s, “And we wanted to meet her.”

Tim’s head in next, above Duke’s, “You can’t carry a random bleeding woman into the cave and expect the family of detectives to not be curious.”

Cass’ head appears below Steph’s. She nods in agreement.

Jason let’s one hand go of yours to wave his hand through the air, “What the fuck? She’s not even awake!”

“Well that’s why we sent Dick as bait.”

“For the record,” Dick held up a finger, “They built off of my original, innocent idea of bringing you snacks.”

“Jesus Christ,” Jason stands up, taking a few steps forward. He points them all back towards the door as they start to filter into the room, “Get—“

“What’s going on…?”

Jason’s whole body whipped back around at the sound of your groggy, rough voice. The others watch as he’s back at your side in a millisecond, his whole demeanour changed. “Hey, you’re okay. Everything’s okay. Remember how I said we were going somewhere new? You thirsty, baby? Here, I got you some water.”

“Oh, you certainly did not get the water,” Dick piped up.

Jason glared back over his shoulder as he held the glass of water for you, keeping the straw Dick had added placed in your mouth.

You stopped drinking, your eyes now on the other people in the room. You turned your head, propped up against pillows Jason had put there for you. You weakly raised your left hand to wave, “Hi… oh?” your gaze turned down to your hand. A heart monitor clip sitting on your finger grabbed your attention. You gave a confused pout at it, “I feel funny.”

Jason set the water aside again. His glare was gone. He leaned in, kissing your forehead, “You’re hopped up on pain meds. That’s why, princess.”

“Damn,” Steph spoke up, “I wish I got the literal princess treatment.”

Jason turned back around, pointing out the door, “Get. Out. Leave my girlfriend alone until she’s better.”

You looked at the strangers, pointing at Jason with your left hand, “I’m his girlfriend.” Your head tilted back against the pillows as you stared up at Jason, pursing your lips, "I’m tired.”

“I know,” Jason said softly. The others began to filter out of the room as he leaned down and gave you a soft kiss, this time on the lips.

From the exit, a collective, “Awwww,” sounded out.

“Out!”

Your drugged up voice came after his, once they were all back in the hall, “Nice to meet you!”

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pynkfairyheart · 7 months ago

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Hii I was wondering if you could do an collage au armin arlert oneshot, imagine or Drabble (totally up to you) where armin is a very popular soccer player at the college and since he’s so popular that causes him not have as much time for his gf so she catches an attitude and ignores him and he fixes it ifykyk. I was thinking more of like a dominant or switch armin for this yk?

pairings: soccer!player Armin x black reader

warnings: smut 18+, a lil angsty, orgasm denial, car sex

a/n: i love this request, armin is just so ૮꒰ྀི˶˃ ⌓ ˂˶꒱ྀིა

Ms. Attitude

“I’m sorry, baby. I promise I’ll make it up later. I love you, bye” The monotone beep of the phone soon followed his hurried voice informing you he ended the call before you could even breathe.

“Yep, I love you too” You mumbled. Glossy eyes scanning the hair and makeup you spent hours on.

This was the second time Armin failed to show up for your date.

Soccer season was picking up and with Armin being the captain you understood you'd no longer be able to spend as much time due to practice, but the frequent outings with his team members were becoming infuriating.

Was it that hard for him to plan around your date nights?

With a deep breath, you soaked a cotton pad in makeup remover. Too exhausted to even take pictures before the excess liquid on the pad mixed with your stray tears. It was rare for you to cry over a guy, even rarer to cry over Armin, but the disappointment was turning into frustration that was too overbearing to contain.

What made things worse is that you felt it wasn't fair to Armin you were having these feelings.

You knew what you were entering into when you said yes to being his girlfriend. He told you his goals from the start; become captain, graduate with a 4.0, play professionally, and ultimately make it to the World Cup.

Of course, you knew achieving all he wanted would take time, and you wholeheartedly supported him.

To maintain a healthy relationship you two had a system. Once a week, you would set aside time for a date. It didn't need to be elaborate or fancy; the simple goal was for you to spend time alone. Everything was perfect. Until it wasn’t.

Something Armin didn’t take into account with the new season was the influx of freshmen on the team. This meant lots of bonding time with the team and less time with you.

°⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

It was a week before you saw Armin. Granted it wasn't on purpose and you just happened to catch a glimpse of him from across the crowded room, but you saw him nonetheless.

The events on how you approached him are a little cloudy, your actions encouraged by the shots you took and your anger. The only true remembrance was Sasha’s attempt to make you stay and the snickers from certain teammates who could predict what was about to happen.

“What the actual fuck, Armin.” You huffed

“Baby? What’s wrong?” His smile disappearing at the pout settled onto your face

You were baffled, was he actually serious?

“What’s wrong is that I haven't seen you in three weeks all because of your little bonding outings. Which this does not seem like bonding” A mixture of frustration and hurt fueling your emotions as you motioned to the party

“I know how this looks, baby but I swear we just got caught up after practice, sit with us I promise to make it up to you- Did you just roll your eyes at me?” Nothing pissed Armin off more than when you rolled your eyes at him.

“Yes! You've said the same thing every week Armin, you're like a fucking broken record and it's actually pissing me off”

“I'm pissing you off?” The indifferent tone of his voice and minuscule smirk on his face should have told you to stop and think but you were just too upset to think.

“Isn't that what I just said” Your iris slightly disappearing as you rolled your eyes once again.

He’d been waiting for it.

Many people knew Armin to be the passionate sweetheart he was. It was rare to see him upset. That emotion reserved for whenever his team got a foul and occasionally whenever you gave him attitude.

Before you could even register what he was doing he grabbed your arm and dragged you out of the party

That little eye roll ended up with you in the backseat of his car, legs on his shoulder as he drilled into you.

“Minniee, pleaseee” You whined, tears threatening to spill from your eyes at the pleasure building in your lower stomach

“You wanted my attention right? So stop fucking complaining and hold it like I said” His hips snapping forward as he buried himself deep inside you with every thrust.

You were certain stars were blurring your vision. He was just stretching you out so well, the girth and the angle he was at leaving no spot along your walls untouched with how deep he was.

Just looking and hearing the whines that slipped passed your lips made him want to fuck orgasm after orgasm out of you.

Just looking at you had him on the brink of a second orgasm.

You just looked so pretty to him. Bouncing breasts no longer confined by the tight shirt you wore, hardened nipples glossy from his previous sucking. Don't even get him started with your teary eyes and glossy lips.

What really got him though was the way your puffy cunt surrounded him. Folds so warm and wet with your slick and his cum that your walls failed to contain.

Armin however didn’t reward bad behavior, especially yours. Maybe he’d let you cum if you whined enough, but who knows. For now, he’d continue to use you for his own pleasure as he pounded into you.

“What's wrong princess? Isn't this what you wanted? Caught an attitude just to get fucked like a slut” He hissed, blonde strands sticking to his forehead as he increased his pace.

“I’m sorry, Minnie, please. I just missed you” You spoke through your broken moans and cries

Leaning down he encaptured your lips, his pace slowing as the guilt seeped into him, oh how he wanted nothing but to go back and spend that time with you.

“I know, I’m sorry. I’ll make time for us, I mean it this time” His voice coming out in a whisper as he kissed along your neck

“Y-yeah? “ Speech broken by the newfound pleasure as he applied pressure to your clit

“Mhm, as long as you stop with that fucking attitude” Within that second the soft and caring Armin was gone and now replaced with the Armin whose only goal was to make you feel pleasure

You were so close, every rock of his hips hitting your spot so perfectly you were seeing stars and begging to cum but he kept denying you over and over. His responses consisting of “Be my good girl and hold it” or “You want it so badly don’t you?” a condescending pout resting on his pink lips every time

It was only when he grabbed your ankles and pushed your legs up against your chest that he allowed you to cum, pace becoming sloppy as he watched you cream around him, basking in the way every contraction of your cunt added to the milky ring around his base.

The feeling of you clenching around him, the sight of your closed eyes and slightly agape mouth as you came, it was too much for him to handle as spurts of his milky cum forced its way into your stuffed cunt.

“That's my girl” He mumbled. Smirking at the cum spilling from your hole the moment he pulled out

It was only when you felt his hands spreading your legs apart and his tongue plunging into you that you opened your eyes.

“Armin” You shrieked

“Mmm, relax, baby. I've got three weeks' worth of orgasms to get from you.”

#aot x black reader #black reader #anime x black!reader #aot x reader #attack on titan #chubby reader #aot smut #aot armin #armin x black reader #armin arlert #armin x reader #armin x black y/n #armin smut #attack on titan smut

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