#i can't go into the five months trying to work with her but it's been a very frustrating very defensive very unsuccessful process
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a-b-riddle · 6 months ago
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Part Five
Can't stop thinking about the attempt of reconciliation and reader ain't having it. Our girl is going to be wilddddd y'all. Also goodnight. See y'all tomorrow (maybe)
You call Meredith when you get home.
You. Are. Fuming. She's not sure she can ever remember a time you using so many swear words at one time.
How fucking dare them? Immature? You're the immature one? You were the one trying your best to salvage four failing relationship meanwhile none of those assholes could be bothered to try and keep one. They had one person to manage: you.
"I wanna go out this weekend." "Wear something tight and borderline risk indecent exposure."
"You know what I always say," Meredith begins. "The best way to get over someone-"
"is to get under someone else." You finish. You weren't exactly keen on the idea of bringing someone to your bed just yet, but a little attention would do you some good. "I don't want to fuck someone just yet." You admitted. "I'm more on the getting drunk and making out."
"I didn't know we resorted back secondary school heavy petting?" She teased.
"University, Dear." You corrected. "I didn't peak until after I graduated."
"No." She argued. "You didn't put your books down long enough to realize that boys actually wanted to fuck you." You were glad she couldn't see you roll your eyes. "Saturday work for you? I have a late night Friday and won't be up for it."
"That works."
"Sorry." She apologized. "I plan on getting you absolutely smashed so I need to be ready to play the nanny. I know how you love to get drunk and run off."
It was true. You had always found it hilarious when you were drunk to just run. Quite literally run away. It got to a point during university where Meredith would handcuff you to her so you didn't stray.
"I won't run." Your sober mind promised.
"Uh huh." Meredith's tone told you that she knew that was a load of shit. "I'll text Tabs. Let her know the plan."
The next day at the shop was pretty uneventful. No more unexpected visitors. You still had them all blocked. Not caring if now they decided to offer up some bullshit apology.
Months. This had been a steady decline for six months. A text or a simply sorry won't fix this. You weren't sure anything could.
But it didn't matter. You were done and they obviously were too.
You had picked up enough take out to feed a family, but you didn't plan on making your lunch before work or cooking when you got home. The rest of the week you planned on just going through the motions until you could go out Saturday and hopefully get everything out.
You weren't paying attention as you walked down the hallway to your flat. Fishing in your purse for keys. You were at almost at your door when you saw him.
Sitting next to your door was a familiar face. A face you felt you haven't seen in forever.
“What are you doing here, Kyle?" Your voice was flat as you continued to blindly try and find your keys with one hand. Fuck. You really need to clean out your purse...
“My key wouldn’t work.” He explained. "So I’m out here.”
"I'm aware why you're not in my apartment since I changed the locks," you said, trying to keep your irritation at bay. "What I am asking is why did you come here?"
"You won't return any of our messages."
"You're all blocked, so technically I didn't really get any messages." "Besides, you don't get to complain to me about not responding to texts, Kyle Garrick." Your fingers finally wraps around them. God bless. "If you're here for your things, it'll have to wait. I have to sort through everyone's shit and I don't know whose is whose."
"We need to talk." He explains as you put the key into the lock, opening the door.
"Nah," you say scrunching your nose in that way he used to adore. "I'm good. But you can swing by tomorrow and pick up your things if you'd like." You say before trying to shut the door on him. You were stupid in thinking you could be faster than him.
Dammit.
"I know things haven't been good and I've definitely could have been better,'' he admits. "But can you at least try and let us apologize? Let us try and work it out."
"No." You answered, trying to close the door. Not caring if you had to resort to kicking his shins to get him out.
"Why not?" He countered.
“Maybe because I've already tried, Kyle?” You gave up on trying to shut him out. You were strong, but he didn't have any issues in besting you. “Because I actually tried with you. With all of you. You didn’t need to come here giving me excuses about your life being hectic because I’ve made the excuses for you.” You didn't miss how he practically flinched. He had always blamed his busy life. Family. Work. You stopped caring about whatever excuse he gave you and realized it was just that. An excuse. “I’ve been telling myself for months that everything you guys didn’t do for me wasn’t because you didn’t care about me. It was because of the stress of your deployments is the reason none of you tell me when you get back from until it’s time to fuck. I tell myself it’s because of the fucked up situation of me being with all of you that makes it awkward to meet your families. Families you all have that I now know I’m not worthy of meeting.” He wanted to correct you. You were. You were worthy. He was an idiot. “It’s not that I need your excuses to make me feel like what you did was justified. No matter what it was, it was apparently to you because you did it.”
He took a step back, processing everything you had said. He had been selfish. You were the reliable constant in his life. Someone he believed he never disappointed. Someone he couldn't disappoint no matter how many times he fucked up.
You took the opportunity to slam the door. Quickly turning the lock before he had a chance to open it back up.
God...
That felt good.
You had spent that evening collecting their thing in case Kyle did show back up tomorrow. You wouldn't make their lives easier by sorting all their shit and organizing it. Everything. One box. Let them figure it out. You almost had a mind to add a shirt that you knew didn't belong to any of them just to have them argue over it. Or least make them think there was someone else...
You were almost tempted if not for the premise that you wanted them to realize this was their fault. Their fuck up. But now that you were officially all broken up, you were free game.
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mod2amaryllis · 2 months ago
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im just gonna be petty ignore me
are you ever training someone and eventually it gets to a point where you just like
give up on them lol
#she's well past probation and has received the most targeted organized training effort I've ever seen in my 9 years at this clinic#like my training was the equivalent of Uncle stew throwing you in the deep end for swim class#now we've got fucking hand outs. we have a training calendar. we have one designated trainer. we have meetings. we're all nice. all mapped.#everyone has made such an effort for this person#but she has the most trouble focusing of anyone I've ever worked with#and yes she has adhd and is upfront about it. but in this work adhd doesn't mean you get to wander off from active medical procedures.#either you find a solution that works or you accept your limitations and find a better environment#i can't go into the five months trying to work with her but it's been a very frustrating very defensive very unsuccessful process#the event that triggered this rant was: she was getting trained on sedated shave downs. a pretty entry level procedure.#even though the sedation is quite safe it IS still sedation. you have to monitor and have full focus. I've had patients crash under sedatio#so she's getting trained by our lead who's demonstrating the shave on one side then she's let trainee do the other#during the demonstration the trainee is constantly in her notebook. lead assumes she's taking notes and asks about it#turns out she's DRAWING. DRAWING DOGS. PRACTICING DOG ANATOMY FOR HER DRAWINGS. she said as much. that it was for-#-drawing purposes. not learning or monitoring purposes.#she then said she was using it as a focusing tool because in the five minutes they'd been there she'd wanted to walk away three times#from boredom and distraction#lead immediately (and very gently as we were all in the same treatment area and witnessed this from afar) starts breaking that down#it's unacceptable to be drawing when you're supposed to be monitoring. i get what you're trying to do. i get it. im also a focused doodler.#but this animal is literally at your mercy right now. whether or not they wake up is ON YOU and unless you're drawing their fucking-#-vital signs i don't wanna see your nose in a book. like come the fuck on. come on.#she argued but the lead eventually said listen if you are constantly fighting the urge to wander away from an anesthetized patient-#-then i will never allow you to do surgeries. full stop.#this turned into a very defensive conversation after which she shut down because she insisted that's how she learns. which. again. i get.#but this isn't school. and you can't walk the walk. and we've tried to accommodate and train in a variety of ways for 5 months.#the level of reliability she's at is so so low for how much training and experience she's received#any criticism is interpreted as bullying no matter how gentle#and if it's too gentle it doesn't fucking work. we've all reached points where we resort to nagging just to make sure she's doing her job#and i understand why she's frustrated and feels singled out but again#if you are putting an anesthetized patient at risk i am not going to be nice about it. distraction during surgery can get patients killed.#there's always a level of confliction over getting so frustrated with people like this because i've been there but seriously..
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lev1hei1chou · 3 months ago
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When their child wants a sibling
Dad!Gojo x reader, Dad!Nanami x reader Genre: Fluff Masterlist Requests open!
GOJO SATORU
"Mommy, can I have a sibling?" your five-year-old daughter, Hikari, asked as she plopped down next to you on the couch, her eyes wide and hopeful. You were in the middle of reading a book, and the sudden question caught you off guard.
Gojo, who was lounging on the other end of the couch, immediately perked up. "A sibling, huh?" he mused, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "That sounds like a great idea."
You shot him a look. "Satoru, we need to talk about this first."
"But Mommy," Hikari interrupted, "all my friends at kindergarten have siblings. I'm the only one who doesn't."
You sighed, closing your book and putting it aside. "It's not that simple, sweetheart. Having a sibling is a big responsibility."
Satoru scooted closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. "She's right, Hikari. It means sharing your toys, your room, and your parents' attention. Are you ready for that?"
She nodded vigorously. "Yes! I promise I'll be the best big sister ever. I can even help take care of the baby!"
You looked at Gojo, who was trying to not laugh. "Well, I suppose we can think about it."
"Yay!" Hikari cheered, jumping off the couch and running around the living room in excitement.
Gojo leaned in and whispered in your ear, "Looks like we're in for some fun times ahead."
Later that evening, after Hikari had been put to bed, you and Gojo sat in the kitchen, sipping tea. "Do you really think we can handle another kid?" you asked, looking over at him.
"Of course we can," he replied confidently. "We're a great team, and besides, Hikari will make an awesome big sister."
You smiled, feeling reassured by his words. "I guess we could start trying."
Gojo's grin widened. "That's the spirit! And, you know, the trying part is the most fun."
You rolled your eyes but couldn't help laughing. "You're impossible, Satoru."
A few weeks later, you found yourself in the same spot on the couch, Hikari sitting on your lap this time, telling you all about her day at kindergarten. Your husband was, as usual, lounging next to you, pretending to be deeply interested in a magazine.
"Mommy, did you and Daddy think about what we talked about?" Hikari asked suddenly, looking up at you with her big, innocent eyes.
You exchanged a glance with Gojo, who gave you a slight nod. "Yes, we did," you said. "And we decided that we're going to try to give you a sibling."
Her face lit up with joy. "Really? When?"
"Well," Gojo began, putting down his magazine, "it might take some time. Making a baby is a little complicated."
Hikari frowned, clearly not understanding. "But you can do it, right?"
Gojo chuckled. "Yes, we can do it. You just have to be patient, okay?"
"Okay!" she agreed, and then ran off to play with her toys.
You turned to Gojo, who was trying to suppress his laughter. "You're enjoying this way too much," you said.
"I can't help it," he replied. "It's just so cute seeing her so excited."
Days passed, and Hikari kept asking every now and then about her future sibling. Every time, her dad would give her some humorous yet evasive answer, like "We're working on it," or "These things take time."
One day, you and Gojo sat Hikari down for a serious talk. "Baby, we have some news for you," you began, holding her small hands in yours.
"What is it?" she asked, her eyes wide with curiosity.
"Mommy is going to have a baby," you announced, watching her reaction closely.
She gasped, her face lighting up with excitement. "Really? I'm going to be a big sister?"
"Yes, you are," Gojo confirmed, ruffling her hair. "But remember, it means you'll have to be very patient and very helpful."
"I will! I promise!" Hikari declared, hugging both of you tightly.
As the months went by, she was true to her word. She helped pick out baby clothes, decorated the nursery, and even tried to learn how to change diapers on her dolls. Gojo, ever the doting husband and father, made sure you were comfortable and happy, always ready with a joke or a warm hug.
One evening, as you all sat together in the nursery, she looked up at you and Gojo and said, "Thank you, Mommy and Daddy, for giving me a sibling. I can't wait to meet them."
You smiled, tears of joy in your eyes, and pulled her close. "You're going to be the best big sister ever, Hikari."
Gojo wrapped his arms around both of you, his voice soft and full of love. "And we're going to be the best family ever."
NANAMI KENTO
The sun peeked through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room where Nanami and you lay snuggled in bed on a lazy Sunday morning. The peace was interrupted by a small figure bouncing into the room with unmatched enthusiasm.
"Mama! Papa! Wake up!" Your energetic four-year-old, Haruto, exclaimed, jumping onto the bed.
Nanami groaned playfully, his arm draped over his eyes. "Haruto, it's too early for this much energy."
You chuckled, sitting up and ruffling Haruto's messy bedhead. "Good morning, champ! What's got you so excited?"
Haruto grinned widely, his eyes sparkling. "I want a little brother or sister!"
Nanami lifted his arm and squinted at Haruto. "What?"
Haruto nodded enthusiastically, his hands gesturing wildly. "Yeah! I want someone to play with!"
You exchanged a surprised glance with Nanami before bursting into laughter. "Oh, sweetheart, where did that come from?"
Nanami sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "Haruto, having a sibling is a big responsibility. Are you sure about this?"
Haruto nodded again, his determination unwavering. "Yes! Like in the storybooks!"
Nanami looked at you, a mix of amusement and disbelief on his face. "Well, I suppose we should consider it."
You smiled at Nanami, silently agreeing that it was a discussion worth having later. "How about we start with breakfast, and then we can talk more about it, okay?"
Haruto nodded eagerly, already bouncing off the bed and heading towards the kitchen, his request seemingly forgotten in the excitement of pancakes.
As you all gathered around the table, Haruto dug into his pancakes with fervor, occasionally pausing to chatter about his favorite cartoon or his adventures with his friends at preschool. Nanami sipped his coffee, occasionally interjecting with a question or a gentle reminder to eat properly and slowly.
After breakfast, while Nanami tidied up the kitchen, you took Haruto to the living room where his toys were scattered about. Sitting down among the stuffed animals and building blocks, you leaned in closer to Haruto.
"Hey, buddy, about what you said earlier..."
Haruto looked up from his toys, eyes wide with anticipation. "Yes, Mama?"
You smiled warmly, trying to find the right words. "Having a brother or sister is a big decision for us grown-ups too. It's something we need to think about carefully."
Haruto nodded seriously, his brows furrowed in thought. "But Mama, Papa, I promise I'll be a good big brother! I'll share my toys and teach them everything!"
Your heart melted at his earnestness. "I'm sure you would be, sweetheart. We'll talk more about it, okay? Papa and I will figure out what's best for our family."
Haruto nodded again, seemingly satisfied with the answer, and resumed playing with his toys. You watched him for a moment, marveling at how quickly he was growing up. Glancing over at Nanami, who had finished cleaning and was now watching the two of you with a soft smile, you knew you were on the same page.
Later when Haruto was napping after lunch, you and Nanami spoke about what your son had started.
"I never thought we'd be having this conversation so soon," Nanami mused, his fingers lightly tracing patterns on your knee.
You chuckled softly, leaning into his touch. "Kids have a way of surprising you, don't they?"
Nanami nodded, his gaze warm and fond as he looked at you. "I think Haruto would make a wonderful big brother."
You smiled, feeling a swell of love for both your husband and your son. "He really would."
One day, after putting your child to bed, you found yourselves lingering at the kitchen table, a stack of pamphlets and notes scattered between cups of cooling tea. Nanami glanced up from a particularly detailed chart of baby essentials, his expression thoughtful.
"Are you ready for this?" he asked quietly, his eyes meeting yours over the rim of his glasses.
You nodded, reaching across to take his hand. "I think so. Our little one is growing up so fast. It feels like we have so much love to give."
He squeezed your hand gently, his thumb rubbing circles on your skin. "I agree. And he's already so excited about the idea of a sibling."
You smiled, thinking back to the countless times your child had brought up the topic, from drawing pictures of a baby with their older sibling to asking if you could name the new addition after their favorite cartoon character.
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yourmidnightlover · 8 months ago
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the sun
pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader
summary: after the events of the snap, you find out news that's both heart wrenching and warming. what happens five years later when bucky's back?
warnings: death, mourning, pregnancy, childbirth, canon-typical violence (not much but just adding to cover all the bases), loosely based on end game and infinity war (as in ignore my mistakes lmaooo), if i failed to mention any warnings PLEASE LET ME KNOW!
wc: 2.6k
a/n: dude idk why i've had an urge to write such heart wrenching angst lately. i'm actually in a decent place rn. i tried to cut this fic down bc originally it was SOOOO long i felt like a lot of it was just filler and i feel like shorter fics of mine tend to do better... ANYWHO! this does have a happy/hopeful ending so no worries! also picturing this beefcake for this story is AGHHHHHHH!
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you never thought two lines on a stick could ever break your heart the way they did.
tears clouded your vision as you gripped the counter, trying not to crumble or succumb to your grief.
6 weeks ago, the avengers lost. everything.
half of the world, gone in a moment.
in one moment, your world collapsed. seeing bucky fade to dust right in front of you...
sobs wracked through your body as you crumbled to the ground.
this was supposed to be a happy moment. there should be tears of joy, not sobs of sorrow. your heart should feel full of love, not like there's a super-soldier sized hole in it.
"y/n," nat's voice rang outside the door, giving you a moment to yourself.
"just-," you tried to level your breathing before she opened the door, knowing but not understanding the grief you were feeling.
she wrapped her arms around your body, tucking your head into her neck as she gently rubbed your back soothingly. steve leaned against the bathroom door, glancing on the counter to see what they had all expected.
a positive pregnancy test.
you were having bucky's baby.
without bucky.
you gripped his dog tags that you had been wearing since the funeral. they were the only thing that could truly ground you.
they brought back happy memories of cuddling in bed, the cool metal shocking your skin for only a moment before realizing that it was only bucky and smiling at the memory.
god, it hadn't even been two months.
how were you supposed to do this alone?
"we're here for you," steve's voice called from the doorway, as if he could hear your thoughts. "you'll never be alone. not in this... not ever." he shook his head, his brows furrowed in a serious, straight line.
eventually, your sobs subsided. you stood with nat from your seat on the ground, wiping your own eyes mustering up a pathetic smile before she left you and steve to work out your grief together.
"we didn't even know it was possible," you shrugged. "it's like he sent me them..." you placed your hand on an invisible bump before facing steve, his teary eyes reminding you that he had lost his best friend, too. "he sent us this baby."
you reached your hand out for steve to hold. he took it gratefully and pulled you into his arms, hugging you tight and letting only a few tears slip his waterline before pulling back.
"if you'll let me, i want to be there for you for everything," his chin wobbled. "buck would kick my ass if i let you go through this alone." a genuine laugh left your lips for the first time in nearly two months.
"i would be so grateful for that," you nodded as you let go of his arms. "part of me still can't believe that it's real. it's like part of me still expects him to walk into the compound from a long mission or something..." you shook your head. "i know that sounds so stupid."
"it's not," he shook his head with a smile. "it's what i wish was true, maybe it's your subconscious trying to preserve your mind?"
"maybe," you shrugged before continuing, "i should probably talk to tony and bruce, huh?"
-
you knew you were around eight weeks along.
according to the doctors' tony had enlisted, however, you were already 12 weeks along, which was impossible.
bucky had been gone on a mission at that time... but it's whatever. you got to hear the heartbeat. steve went with you, too. you both bawled together. you kept three copies of the ultrasound and he kept two.
banner had already offered to do some testing on the dna of the baby, noting that the serum would likely affect the pregnancy (as it probably already has).
you had talked to tony about retiring from the whole superhero gig for the time being. you needed to mourn and prepare for a new life simultaneously. tony had promised to provide anything you needed at the drop of a hat, and he sure as hell delivered.
within no time, your pregnancy was being measured at 20 weeks while only being pregnant for 12. banner was concerned for your body's ability to keep up with the rapid rate of growth of the baby. he had you on a strict, hefty diet with two different prenatal vitamins in attempt to help your nutrition.
in spite of your best efforts, you were always exhausted and in pain. but you wouldn't trade it for anything in the world. this was bucky's baby. you didn't care how much pain you went through when you had half of him growing inside of you.
you couldn't walk for long without feeling like passing out, which banner chalked up to low iron. steve had grown progressively more worried for you and the baby the longer the pregnancy went on.
as a result, he had moved into the spare room that was in your and bucky's house. truly, it just made it easier for him to help you finish up the nursery anyway.
he was very handy about it all, painting, building furniture from scratch, the whole deal.
"i've been thinking... and if it's a girl, i want to name her evangeline james barnes," you informed steve as you ate the steak he had been making for the past few weeks of your pregnancy, as ordered by dr. banner. that with carrots, broccoli, potatoes, and for dessert strawberries, blueberries and raspberries over ice cream. "and if it's a boy, cyrus james barnes. evangeline means good news, and cyrus means sun."
steve placed his hand over yours, "i think buck would've loved them." he smiled warmly as you downed the food in a few minutes.
you had begun showing soon after you found out you were pregnant, but now, it felt like it was impossible to hide. nat had been wonderful about helping you keep up with the changes your body was going through, getting you new maternity clothes every week.
she even made sure to get you every single craving that wasn't in accordance to banner's hefty diet. not that he didn't want you to eat more, he thought it was best you did! but he also wanted to make sure that with all that you did eat, your body got as many nutrients as possible.
just to be safe, he kept you on other vitamin supplements anyway.
you couldn't help but imagine what bucky would say or do about everything now.
he would hold your body closely, pressing firm kisses to your bump every chance he could get while whispering some sickly sweet sayings to your unborn child, words that would melt the winter soldier's cold exterior.
he would whisper words of encouragement any moment you felt worried about your abilities to be a mom. he would say how beautiful you were, in spite of being bloated in places you didn't know could bloat.
he would be wonderful, and in your mind, he was still alive and vibrant. well, as vibrant as bucky ever was, at least.
truthfully, that's the only way you were able to keep going on like this. steve was wonderful, but you couldn't help but want the love of your life by your side as you tried to navigate this new chapter.
in a couple more weeks, you were projected to be at 32 weeks. bruce and tony were talking with your doctors about the safety of inducing so early, both for you and the baby.
oh, and you wanted the gender to be a surprise.
and within the week, you were having your baby.
steve and nat were by your side during the birth, whispering encouraging words and compliments of your strength.
"i need him!" you screamed in pain as you held one of each of their hands, sobbing in agony. "i need james! i need my bucky! i can't do this alone, i can't-i can't!"
"you can," nat reminded you. "this baby needs you," she held your face to look at hers. "bucky is a part of this baby." you swore you could see tears in her eyes before turning to face steve.
"remember what you told me when you found out you were pregnant?" he didn't bother wiping the tears from his face. "bucky sent you-sent us this baby. he knows you can do it." you sniffled before nodding at your two best friends, pushing with one last scream and a second later, you had...
"cyrus james barnes," the nurse called to you. "it's a boy, congratulations mom."
-
the next few years went by quicker than you could've ever imagined.
crawling, first words, first steps...
you missed bucky. not a day passed where you didn't miss him.
but, having cy helped a lot. he looked just like his father. dark brown hair, icy blue eyes, a cute little nose... not to mention his father's stubbornness.
you made sure he knew who his father was. you took him to the museum often, showing him the statue of his father and his background in the world war, him saving the world so much. you told him how you fell in love with him.
how you fell for the quiet man before ever really talking to him. how you were partners on a long-term, undercover mission and that's where your love ignited from the sparks.
not that cy understood any of what you told him. you just felt it was important to know that his parents loved him, and each other dearly.
you never took off his dog tags, either.
steve was a huge help the whole time. he kept working for the avengers, so he was gone often, but he provided a good male role model for cyrus. after all, he was his uncle steve. he already taught him how to throw a ball, albeit a little softball, but it counts!
you made sure to document everything that went on in yours and cyrus's life.
banner had said that cyrus was growing at an exceeding rate, but nothing to be concerned about. in fact, cyrus was turning five in almost half a year, meaning the anniversary of bucky's death, or disappearance or whatever you called it, was coming up.
then, you got a call from tony and banner.
it all happened so quickly, from testing to planning to the execution. pepper watched cyrus for you while you went back with steve, scott, and tony to get the tesseract.
of course, the men being men had to come upon a few hiccups, but eventually, after going as far back as the 70s, you brought back the tesseract.
the only thing is that nat never came back...
next thing you know, bruce is snapping his fingers and clint is getting a call from his supposedly deceased wife. your eyes fill with tears, hands searching in your pockets for your phone to see if you've gotten anything yet.
is it possible he wasn't brought back? he was the first to... disintegrate. die. maybe that meant something in the eyes of the stones?
then, you felt a buzz in your hand.
although, you didn't have any time to try to grasp what that meant, because more aliens came to earth.
shocker.
after yet another war, one that you weren't even prepared for, after losing more people, again. after losing tony...
but amidst the chaos of the aftermath of the fight, with screams of joy and shock and grief surrounding you, tears streaming down your face, your eyes met the blue ones you only saw in your son.
he slowly walked towards you as the tears sped up. you didn't even realize when your feet began running towards him.
when his arms wrapped around your waist, you finally felt the home you thought you had come to terms with never feeling again. your arms wrapped around his neck, your face buried in his shoulder as you breathed in the scent of gunmetal that had overtaken him in the battle.
"oh my god," you cried into the leather of his jacket. he lifted you off the ground, your legs wrapping around his waist as you felt his smile on your cheek. "i can't believe you're really here."
"i'm here, doll," his hands cradled your head so tenderly. "i'm not ever leaving again. never."
you pulled back before your eyes widened in realization. "you've gotta meet someone, jamie."
his brows furrowed in confusion, just smiling and nodding along with whatever you said.
within the next few hours, simply being held by bucky before steve stole him away with a hug, you finally brought him home.
"so, steve moved in," you started as you pulled your car into the driveway, turning to see bucky looking at you with an incredulous look. "you'll see why." you reached to hold his hand before he brought yours to his lips, pressing a kiss there.
you told him to wait in the car as you went inside to relieve the babysitter for cyrus. after giving him some cash, he went outside, knocking on your car window to let bucky know he should make his way inside.
upon entering, he saw you sitting on the floor with a little boy with striking blue eyes that seemed so familiar to him. his nose, too. his lips though, they were all yours. he had a slight grin plastered on his lips, one that matched yours to a t.
"daddy?" suddenly, it all clicked.
his heart, his mind, his fucking soul, everything made sense now. the pain, hydra, the mind washing, the torture.
meeting you. falling in love. dying?
his son.
he started walking closer to bucky before the steady walk turned into a run. bucky knelt down, wrapping the boy in his arms, cradling his tiny frame in his arms protectively. his son.
"cyrus james barnes," you said with a teary smile on your face. bucky, without breaking the hug with his son, looked up at you with a smile that matched yours. "cyrus means 'sun', and i thought it was fitting. he brought me so much light and hope after you..." you choked up before he stood up with cy in his arms, walking towards you before wrapping you in the big, family hug.
"i love you so much, both of you."
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heart-of-the-morningstar · 6 months ago
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✨Lead Us Into Temptation✨
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The poll didn't even finish before I started working on this lmao, hope you enjoy my first take on some very soft dom Luci!
Lucifer x f!sinner reader
Summary: You were a devout believer in life, but somehow you ended up in Hell with no real explanation. Most nights you can be found sitting on a bar stool in the lobby, trying to cope with what's happened to you. But one night while in an intoxicated state, you reveal your most hidden desires to the King himself...
Lucifer x f!sinner reader
Warnings: smut, 18+, reader first time, hand job, fingering, tail play, oral (m & f receiving), p in v
"That's it, I'm cuttin' you off for tonight," Husk said sternly, whisking away your unfinished glass of whiskey. You'd been at the bar for only an hour and you've already downed five full glasses.
"Noooo, Husk c'mon...I'm fffffiiiinnee," you babbled, trying to push your head from the countertop unsuccessfully.
It's been a few months since you arrived in Hell after an unfortunate accident that ended in your early demise. But being a devout believer, you were so sure that Heaven would be your final destination. How wrong you were. You woke up in the fiery pit confused and scared, your body had transformed into that of a demon; you had become something you had feared for your entire life. When you first heard about the Hazbin Hotel, you nearly jumped at the opportunity for redemption. If there was even the slightest hope of getting out of here, you were going to take it. But your situation was more than troublesome, considering how you led your life up on Earth. On most nights, you could easily be found sitting on a bar stool, trying desperately to drown your sorrows and distract yourself from the reality you'd found yourself in.
What's worse...not everyone here is evil. It was ingrained into you that everyone down here in Hell deserved to be, they had earned this punishment. But getting to know some of the other residents at the hotel, that couldn't have been further from the truth! Was everything you were taught just a complete lie?! For Heaven's sake, Charlie, the literal princess of Hell, was the sweetest and kindest being you've ever had the pleasure of meeting! And Vaggie, a former angel, so devout to Charlie and her dream, you've never seen two people more in love. Angel, although a bit eccentric and over the top, cared deeply for his friends and was ready to fight for them at a moment's notice. It was all...not what you expected, and you had a very difficult time coping with everything that you had been thrust into.
"You're shit faced," Husk snapped back. "Look, I know you're havin' a hard time with all this. But drinking away your issues ain't gonna solve any of 'em. You need to sleep this off." He watched you stumble off the bar stool, your one foot catching the other, resulting in a rather pitiful fall onto the carpet. But you couldn't feel anything, the alcohol helped mask the pain you were sure to feel tomorrow. You couldn't help but giggle at your own clumsiness. "Oh, for fuck's sake..." Husk grumbled.
Before you could even attempt to pull yourself off the ground, you saw a pair of black boots approaching you in a rather hurried manner.
"Woah!" the voice exclaimed, "Are you alright? Here, let me help you!" In no time, your limp body went from lying on the lobby floor to being hoisted up and helped back onto the bar stool you fell from. You turned your head to see Lucifer's concerned face staring back at you. "Husk, what happened?"
"She's drunk," the cat demon explained, "I told her she was done drinkin' for the night and she ate shit trying to stand up. I was about to help her back to her room-"
All of a sudden, a shadowy presence started to form behind the bar. A static filled laugh was heard before Alastor had popped up, startling the bar tender. "Husker, my good man!," the radio demon bellowed, "it seems as though I am in need of your assistance."
"Fuck! Why can't you just walk in here like a normal fucking person?" Husk grumbled.
Alastor only responded with a light chuckle before fixing his attention on you. "My, my, what have we here?" Alastor taunted. You could have sworn you heard a low growl coming from Lucifer beside you. "I say, my dear, I've never seen you look worse than you do now. What a pity, all of those teachings really didn't help you in the long run, now did they?"
You felt tears threatening to fall from your eyes at Alastor's cruel words. If you were sober, you would have run the other direction as fast as you could. Alastor had been the other real soul you met who you knew with every fiber of your being belonged in this pit. But considering you had no inhibitions and clearly no chance of getting away, you picked your head up and slammed your fists on the table in righteous anger.
"Ohhh, eat shit youuuu *hic* smiling prick!" You tried to stand up once more, only for your legs to buckle underneath you. Luckily, Lucifer had caught you before your face had met with the carpet again. "I-I don't deserve this! 'Least I'm TRYING to redeem m'self!"
Alastor's malicious grin never faltered. "Oh, and what a fabulous job you're doing! I do wonder how a woman such as yourself has fallen so far from grace."
"Fuck off, radio freak," Lucifer snarled, barring his teeth and his eyes shifting to a deep crimson red and yellow.
“Oh, ho ho! Seems as though I’ve struck a nerve,” Alastor mocked. He made his way around the bar, now towering over you and the fallen angel. “Tell me, your highness, what is your fascination with this lost soul, hmm? I’m so utterly curious as to why you would give her the time of day when all she does is wallow in her self-pity and-”
“I. SAID. FUCK. OFF.” the king spat, his eyes now changing into a solid red and his voice deepening to match his threat. Though your vision was hazy, you noticed his horns had burst out from his temples. Whether it was the alcohol or something else entirely, your face suddenly felt very, very hot. “Don’t make me repeat myself again.”
Despite the immense danger, Alastor could only muster a sly grin. “It’s very rude to ignore my question.”
“I don’t have to do anything for you! Or have you forgotten who you’re talking to?” The way Lucifer spoke sent a shiver down your spine. “The only reason that you’re not a mangled corpse on the ground right now is because of my daughter. So, if you want to stay in one piece, I’d walk away right now if I were you…”
The two men's faces were just inches away from each other now. Alastor’s eye twitched as he glared back at Lucifer with pure distain. His eyes shifted to you only for a brief moment before standing up straight and smirking to himself.
“I suppose it really is no business of mine as to how you choose to mingle with the guests here,” the radio demon resolved. He turned around to walk away, but not before glancing at you once more over his shoulder. “They’re lost causes anyway. Come along, Husker!”
Lucifer’s demonic traits disappeared as Alastor finally left the parlor. “I hate that man.” He looked at Husk empathetically. “If I could break your arrangement with him, I would. I’m sorry. But don’t worry, I’ll take care of her.” With that, Husk nodded and followed the radio demon down the hall, leaving you and Lucifer alone at the now empty bar.
You started to bawl as you clung to Lucifer for support. Immediately, he rushed you over to the couch and sat you down next to him, letting you cry into the crook of his neck.
"Hey, hey, shh," Lucifer soothed. "It's alright. Alastor won't bother you anymore, I'll make sure of it."
"It's n-not him," you sniffled, "it's everything! Al-stor's right, there's no savin' me."
Lucifer pulled you away from him, placing a hand under your chin as he looked into your glassy eyes. "Now what makes you say that?"
Another tear rolled down your face. "Is like he said, what I was taught up there...nothing's true! Welllll, except..." you placed your hand over the one holding your face tenderly. "Theeeyyyyy did say that you, Luciferrrr, were heaven's prettiest angel. They def-liny didn't lie about that!"
You noticed a small blush creep across Lucifer's face at your words. He pulled his and away from your face to clear his throat, glancing away from you. "T-Thank you. That's umm, very kind of you."
You chuckled to yourself, scootching your body closer him. "Do you mind if I *hic*, lay down, jus' for a sec. Gettin' sleepy.
"Yeah, of course!" Lucifer smiled, but only for a moment. "W-Wait, hold on!"
But by the time he tried to warn you, your head had already fallen into his lap. You smiled up at the flustered man and chuckled, the heat returning to your face once more. "You got soft legs, hehe!"
Lucifer inhaled sharply. "Husk was right, you really are drunk. Wouldn't you feel more comfortable laying your head on a pillow?"
"Nnnnope!" you replied.
"Alright then," the king breathed and massaged the back of his neck, doing his best to hide how tense he'd become from your sudden closeness.
"H-Hey," you called up to him, "why'd youuu...why'd you protect me jus' now? From Al-stor. You *hic* didn't have to..."
He looked down at you softly, brushing away the hair that had fallen in your face. "I don't like bullies. You didn't deserve that, and Alastor knows that for his sake that he shouldn't get on my bad side."
"Never seen you so mad." you mumbled.
"I'm sorry you had to see that," he apologized, continuing to play with you hair. "I don't like bringing out that side of me. But Alastor really likes to push his luck for some bizarre reason."
"Awww," you pouted, "is too bad. I liked seeing that side of ya. It was HOT!"
Lucifer stopped his movements completely. “I-I’m sorry?”
“You heard me,” you responded poking at his chest. “What? Did ya think jus’ cuz I was a believer when I was alive that I’d be SCARED of ya? Maybe at first. Not anymore! I’m already in Hell soooo there’s no point in hidin’ it, is there?”
“Hiding what, exactly?” Lucifer gulped as if he was almost too afraid to ask.
You giggles and hid your face with your hands. “Noooo, you’re jus’ gonna laugh at meeee!”
Lucifer let out an amused hum. He gently took ahold of your wrists and lowered your hands away from your now completely beet-colored face. “I promise I won’t laugh at you, my dear. You’ve very much piqued my curiosity! And I’m very good at keeping secrets, you know! So please, let me keep yours.” He let go of your wrists, letting your hands fall onto your chest. You watched as he leaned closer to you, his half-lidded eyes piercing your very soul. “Won’t you tell me, my sweet angel?”
"I...*hic* I umm..." you babbled. It was clear that you were struggling to answer.
"Mind if I take a guess?" Lucifer offered as he went back to playing with your loose locks of hair. "Is it possible that you have a little crush on-"
"I WAN' YOU TO FUCK ME STUPID TILL I CAN'T 'MEMBER MY NAME!" you blurted out without any reservations.
"-me..." Lucifer froze at your confession. You could hear the sound of a pin drop with the deafening silence that now filled the air. With a big inhale, he straightened his back fully, placing both of his hands under you in a flash, not daring to look down at you. "Well, I-I think it's about time we got you to bed!" he nearly shouted as he scooped you up in his arms and stood up faster than normal.
You let out a small squeak of surprise with his sudden motion. With a snap of his fingers, a portal appeared next to you and he quickly carried you across the threshold and into your dimly lit room. With a flick of his wrist, your bedsheets were undone and Lucifer was able to lay you down gently onto your mattress. He reached over you to grab your undone comforter and pulled it on top of you, covering everything but your head.
"Okay! Uhh, s-sleep well!" Lucifer went to run through the portal, but not before you were able to grab his sleeve.
"D-Did I upset you?" you asked nearly on the verge of tears again? Lucifer still hadn't looked at you.
"N-No! No, angel, you didn't upset me!" he tried to sooth you, but you weren't buying it. You couldn't stop more tears running down your face. When Lucifer heard your quiet cries, he finally turned towards you in a state of sheer panic. "Ahh, no!" He kneeled down next to you, wiping your tears away with his free hand. "Please don't cry! I promise I'm not upset!"
"Knew it was stupid...," you sobbed, "shouldn't have told you..."
"Don't say that," the fallen angel cooed. "Okay, okay, look...If uhh, we're admitting things right now, I might as well too. Would that make you feel better?"
You sniffled a bit. "M-Maybe..."
Lucifer shut his eyes and let out a deep sigh. "I've had...similar feelings...about you, that is. So...no more tears, okay?"
You stared at the man before you, completely and utterly baffled by what you had just heard. "R-Really?"
"Yes," he whispered. "But we can talk about this tomorrow, yeah? You need some sleep; it looks like you're about to pass out."
He was right. Your eyelids felt as though they could give out at any moment, and the warmth from your blanket wasn't helping you stay conscious either. As Lucifer stood up, you still clung to his sleeve like your life depended on it. "Stay?" you almost begged.
He smiled weakly, taking your hand from his sleeve, and placing a small peck on the back of it. "Not tonight," he responded. "Sleep now, darling. I'll see you when you wake." You couldn't find the strength to respond, letting yourself drift off to sleep as Lucifer left you to dream.
Little did you know that he had disappeared to take a very cold shower.
****
When you regained consciousness, you felt the familiar pounding in your head after a heavy night of drinking. Begrudgingly you dragged yourself out of you bed and forced your way to your bathroom for a much needed shower. You realized when you glanced towards the mirror that you never changed out of your clothes from yesterday. In fact, you don't even remember how you got back to your room last night, Everything was such a blur, and it hurt to think with the major headache you were experiencing at the moment. The last thing you could recall was falling off the bar stool, the pain you felt in your shoulder was enough of a reminder. Once you stepped in the hot shower, you felt a little better, but only a little bit. You tried to rack your brain for answers, trying to remember exactly what happened after you fell. You ran your fingers through your hair, letting the water soak your aching body. But in doing so, something had clicked. That motion had unlocked a foggy memory. Your hair. Someone had run their hands through your hair last night, but you couldn't for the life of you remember who. It was gentle, soft, tender. But who would do that?
After a few minutes, you stepped out of the shower and threw on one of the sundresses you had hanging in your closet. You really didn't feel like putting a ton of effort into your clothing choices today. Hopefully Charlie would forgive you for skipping out on her planned activity today and let you recover. You realized after that initially thought that you didn't even know what time is was. Chances were you had already missed it. With a groan, you plopped down back onto the mattress, your hair still damp.
"What's the matter with me," you asked yourself. "How do I expect to be redeemed when all I do is sabotage my chances by getting wasted every night?" Your headache persisted as you laid in your bed, you almost wanted to cry from the pain. But then, you heard a soft knocking at your door. Charlie, you thought. More than likely she was checking in on you to make sure you were alright. "I'll be there in a second!" you called out. The volume of your own voice didn't help your hangover in the slightest. You grabbed one of the small pillows off your bed for comfort and trudged your way to your door. "I'm really sorry I slept in Charlie," you spoke as you turned the door handle, "it was a...really rough night for me and I-" you stopped completely once you opened the door fully. Charlie, in fact, was not the one who had knocked.
"Yeah, you really did get put through the ringer last night, didn't you?" Lucifer smiled at you. The pillow you held fell to the floor with a soft thud.
“Oh, I-I’m so sorry, sir!” You stuttered. “I-I thought you were Charlie! Did-Did she send you?”
Lucifer looked at you with a puzzled stare. “Uhh, no, no she didn’t. I told her what happened last night and let her know I’d check in on you like I promised.”
“Promised?” you asked, but Lucifer didn’t seem to hear you.
“And you don’t have to refer to me as “sir,” my dear, “Lucifer” is just fine! I mean, you used my name just fine last night!”
Your heart stopped. “L-Last night? Oh no…what…what happened last night?”
Lucifer gawked at your question. “Wait, do you not remember anything?” You shook your head timidly. “Oh dear…well, nothing bad happened, I promise! What’s the last thing you can remember doing?”
You looked down at the floor sheepishly, embarrassed to admit the real answer. “The last thing I can remember is falling off the bar stool and…landing on my face…”
Lucifer stood there and pondered for a few seconds before speaking again. “Do you mind if I come in?”
“Oh, umm, yeah, y-you can come in,” you agreed. You picked up the pillow you had dropped and opened the door for Lucifer to saunter in. “I’m sorry I look like a mess right now, I-I just got out of the shower and my hair isn’t completely dry yet and-”
“Hey, hey, it’s alright!” Lucifer interrupted. “You don’t need to apologize. You look lovely, in any case.”
You brought the pillow in your hands up to your face in an attempt to hide your blush. “T-Thank you,” your muffled voice came through the pillow. "I-If you want, you can sit down on my b-ahh fuck!" One hand came up to your forehead when you felt your head pounding from the pressure that's been building since you woke up. This was definitely one of your worst hangovers to date.
"Oh! Are you alright?" Lucifer asked, his voice laced with deep concern.
"My head..." you choked out. You made your way over to your bed, crawling up to the top and cradling the pillow in your arms "Hangovers are never really kind to me."
Lucifer frowned, seating himself down on the edge of your mattress next to you. You felt your face flare up again when you looked up at his worried expression. "Can I help you? I can alleviate the pain. You only need ask."
"Y-you can?"
"Sure! Angelic power and all that." His hand hovered just above your forehead. "May I?"
"Yes," you breathed. With that, you felt his soft hand make contact with your aching head. You felt a warm tingling sensation emanating from his touch. It didn't hurt nor was it unpleasant, it was healing. Without thinking, you leaned further into his touch, letting the warmth spread throughout your entire body. Your headache slowly began to fade away along with the fogginess that had been plaguing you since you woke up. As his touch lingered, you realized you were able to think more clearly than before, memories from last night started to become clearer and clearer. You remembered Lucifer had come to your rescue after you'd fallen. You remembered Alastor had shown up to mock you in your drunken stupor, only for Lucifer to step in and defend you. You remember sobbing with Lucifer while he comforted you. Then you remembered...
You shot straight up, your heart racing a million miles a second, with Lucifer throwing his hand back in surprise. "What? What happened? Did I hurt you?" Lucifer asked in a panic.
"I'm..." you began, "I'm starting to remember things from last night." You clutched the pillow tight to your chest, refusing to look in the fallen angel's direction. "Please tell me I didn't actually lay down in your lap..."
"Uhh, well...," You could tell from his response that that's exactly what had happened.
"Oh my God, I'm so sorry!" you apologized. "I shouldn't have done that! I-I know I drank way too much last night, I should have stopped, I didn't realize that-"
Lucifer's hand immediately flew to your shoulder in an attempt to get you to stop you from completely spiraling. "Darling, you don't need to apologize for that! You weren't feeling great so you just, ya know, used me as a pillow. And besides, it's not like I disliked it either."
"W-What?!" you nearly shrieked. Another realization had hit you just then. "You! You were the one that was playing with my hair! That's the only thing I could remember when I woke up!" You buried your face in the pillow once more. "If I said anything embarrassing..."
You heard Lucifer swallow hard. "I guess uhh, it depends on your definition of the word."
"Oh God, please no..." you pleaded. "What did I say?"
Lucifer held up his hand again as an offering, a weary smile on his face. "I can help you to remember, if you wish."
You let out a shaky breath but nodded in agreement. Lucifer's hand once again found its way to your forehead, a familiar warmth flowing through you once more. You closed your eyes and saw the images from last night flash before you. You saw yourself looking up at Lucifer who'd just asked you to tell him your little secret. But as soon as you remembered the drunken words that flew from your mouth at that moment, your eyes shot open and you flung yourself to the opposite side of the bed, as far away from Lucifer as possible.
"No. No! Nononononono!" you panicked, "I didn't-I mean I couldn't have, I...NO!" You couldn't stop yourself from crying into the pillow, ashamed and embarrassed at the thought of your past actions. "This is a nightmare..."
You felt the bed shifting beneath you as Lucifer crawled toward you hesitantly. "I'm sorry," he murmured behind you, "I know you must be feeling a lot of different emotions right now, but it's alr-"
"NO, IT'S NOT ALRIGHT!" You snapped, jumping from the bed in an attempt to put as much distance between you and him as possible. Your rage was quickly replaced with remorse when you saw Lucifer's shocked, almost hurt expression. You took a deep breath before speaking again. "I didn't mean you scream at you like that, I'm sorry...but you don't understand..."
"Then help me understand," Lucifer asked, now kneeling on the bed. "Please?"
You looked away from him and down to the ground, your heart threatening to beat out of your chest at the thought of explaining yourself to the literal king of Hell. "I...I grew up in church. I was raised as a believer. Told to be a “good girl." I was taught my entire life that Hell was a place to be feared, a place where the most evil of people end up. And I would be wise to fear it as well and repent so I would not end up there...uhh, here. That clearly didn't help me now, did it?" You let yourself drop to the bed again, letting your legs dangle over the sides. "My entire worldview just seemed to crumble around me when I started staying here at the hotel. Sure, there are some awful people here, but...it feels as though this "divine judgement" is...just completely fucked up! The guests here are better people than most believers I knew when I was alive! How is that right? How is that fair?!"
"Well," Lucifer interjected, "I can tell you first hand that Heaven is definitely not what it seems. I mean, have you seen the things they've said about me in that book of theirs?" he laughed, trying his best to lighten the mood.
You twisted your head over your shoulder, staring back at him with complete intensity. "And you!" You shot back up on your feet in an instant, pacing back and forth as Lucifer watched you completely mesmerized. "Where do I even start with you? You're Lucifer, the devil himself, the great deceiver, and temptation incarnate! Everything I was ever told about you is bullshit! You've been nothing but hospitable ever since I've been here! You protected me from Alastor last night! You took care of me while I was drunk! You didn't have to do any of those things, you shouldn't have done any of those things! You're not evil and it's...it's driving me to the brink! When Charlie had told me that you were her father, I was PETRIFIED! But nothing could have prepared me for finding out who you really were."
Lucifer slowly crawled towards you, climbing off the bed and now standing before you, perhaps just a tad too close for your comfort. "And who am I?" he asked softly.
Instinctively, your body drew itself closer and closer to his, as if you had no control of your movements anymore. "You're...an angel," you sighed.
Lucifer smiled at you, timidly resting his hand on your forehead. "Would you like to remember the rest of last night?"
"I already embarrassed myself enough to the point of no return so I might as well," you huffed shyly.
Lucifer chuckled, "Don't worry, the worst is over. But at least now you'll get to remember my favorite part."
The last of your aches in your body finally subsided as you let the rest of your previously forgotten memories flood your mind. It made sense that Lucifer would have been the one to bring you back to your room. Seeing yourself cry was not surprising to you, but what was surprising was Lucifer's admittance of reciprocated desires. You opened your eyes at last to the angel's sheepish grin. You took a half step away from him, your face feeling like the core of a raging volcano.
"You...you really..." was all you could muster.
"I'm not above embarrassing myself either, my dear," he joked, "I'd say we're even now."
"T-That's not even remotely close to being even!" you babbled.
Lucifer grinned and closed the gap between the two of you, taking one of your hands in his. "Regardless," he mused, "I meant what I said. Every word. And if you'd like to discuss this further, I'd be more than happy to listen." He pressed a small peck to the back of your hand just as he did last night. Even though your hangover had completely vanished, the brain fog had come back in full force. Maybe Lucifer was truly temptation incarnate.
"I-I can't believe this," you stutter, pulling your hand away from his and throwing yourself back onto your bed and covering your reddened face with your hands. "This has to be a dream, there's no way this is real! I'm sure I'm still passed out drunk right now! You're not supposed to be this way! You're supposed to be cruel and wicked and manipulative! Not..."
"Suave and oh so devilishly handsome?" Lucifer smirked.
"You're not helping!" You felt the mattress fold further under Lucifer's weight as he sat down next to you. "So...w-what happens now?"
"I mean, I can think of a few things," he answered smugly. "But in all seriousness, nothing will happen. Not unless you say otherwise."
"See, it's stuff like that!" you shouted, suddenly sitting up right. "Being respectful and considerate, constantly making sure I'm comfortable? That's not who you're supposed to be! I've just been fucking lied to my whole life and I'm PISSED and I'm finding it extremely difficult to not just...just...oh FUCK IT!"
Without warning, you grabbed Lucifer by the collar and crashed your lips into his. He let out a surprised yelp, but you had quickly swallowed it as his shock turned into pure bliss. His hands quickly found your face, cupping them and massaging your red-hot cheeks with his thumbs. Your annoyance had faded almost immediately, your fierce kiss had turned soft and passionate with his tender touch. You were the first to pull away, only to be met with Lucifer's pleading gaze.
"S-So much for being a good girl," Lucifer teased.
You pushed his face away gently. "I hate you!"
"That kiss suggested otherwise, darling."
"You should stop talking," you threatened.
"You should make me," he challenged.
In an instant, you were straddling Lucifer’s lap, your legs flush against his. You gripped the brim of his hat and tossed it to the floor below. You leaned in for another kiss, but this one was hungrier, needier. His lips were soft and you had already become addicted to his taste. You felt his jagged tongue brush against your bottom lip, and you pulled back in shock. “Is your tongue…” Lucifer flashed a cheeky smile and stuck out his tongue playfully. Sure enough, a forked snake tongue hung between his lips. “O-Oh, okay…” You weren’t sure how you never noticed before right now, but your lack of observation skills were the furthest thing from your mind right now. You closed your eyes and leaned in again, your mouth slightly ajar, basically begging for him to invade your mouth. To which Lucifer happily obliged. You felt his tongue slip past your teeth, entangling itself with yours. His hands had shifted down to your hips, kneading and lightly squeezing at your skin underneath your dress. The feeling of his claws pressing into you sent a shiver down your spine. More, more, more was the only thing you could think at the moment. But just as you got used to the feeling of his lips, Lucifer was the one to pull away this time. A tiny whimper escaped you. “Don’t worry, angel,” Lucifer cooed, “we have time. All the time in the world, in fact. I just want to make sure you’re alright. Do you want to keep going?”
The passion you felt was quickly replaced with fear. It hadn’t occurred to you that you had neglected to mention a pretty crucial piece of information. “Yes, I-I do, but umm…I should tell you…”
“Yes?”
“I…haven’t exactly…” you gulped trying to find the right words. “I haven’t been with anyone before…”
“Wait, wait,” Lucifer froze, “you’ve never-”
“No!” You cut him off. “L-Look, when it’s been drilled into your head since you were a child that premarital sex is going to send you to Hell, you’re going to avoid it!”
Lucifer let out a deep sigh, then chuckled to himself. “Okay, I have to admit something. That whole “sex before marriage is a sin” thing miiiiigggghhhhttt be my fault.” You raised an eyebrow. “They never got over the fact that I more or less stole Adam’s first wife. Of course we weren’t married at that point! Heaven’s been petty ever since.”
You rolled your eyes playfully. “Oh, so it’s YOUR fault that I’m a virgin! Good to know.”
“Forgive me.” Lucifer allowed himself to lay flat on his back, with you following close behind. He raised his head and brought his lips to your ear. “But at your word, I’d be more than happy to rectify this injustice,” he whispered softly.
Goosebumps covered both of your arms at his words. You knew your face must have turned a new shade of red the way Lucifer smirked at you. You lowered yourself on his crotch out of spite and began to grind your hips lethargically. It was your turn to embarrass him. His breath caught in his throat from your motions, you could already feel that your lewd actions were having an effect on the man beneath you. The growing bulge in his pants that you felt on your own clothed heat had you salivating.
"You know, I-I'm not a complete novice," you admitted, your hands now making your way down his jacket, undoing every button with care. "I have a few tricks up my sleeve."
Lucifer pushed you back upright, now straddling his lap once more, and slipped himself out of his undone shirt. Aa you gripped his bare It took everything in your power not to stare at his perfectly toned chest. "And what "tricks"-hngg…would those be?"
You placed a chaste kiss to his lips before sliding off of his lap and kneeling on the floor in front of him. Lucifer's breath hitched instantly at the sight before him. You rested your palms on his inner thighs, your rapid breathing betraying your faux collected exterior. "I figured since I couldn't break the rules, I could at least bend them."
Lucifer firmly gripped the sheets beneath him as he watched your thumbs trace circles near his crotch. "Already on your knees for me, sweetheart?” he teased, running a hand from the top of your head, relishing in the softness of your hair, and down to the tip of your chin. “I didn’t know my powers of temptation would work so well on someone as devout as you.” You failed to hide the whimper that escaped your throat. “I’m sorry, I know I’m teasing you too much. I’ll stop if-”
“N-No, don’t stop…” you responded almost inaudibly.
A sultry laugh emanated from the man above you. “Oh, is that so?” You nodded. “Use your words, love.”
You shivered. “Please… remind me of my place…sir…”
He tilted your head up towards him, leaning down and placing a soft kiss on your lips. “Whatever you wish, my angel. You let me know if I go too far, okay?”
“Yes, I will.”
“Good girl,” he murmured. “Now, I believe you wanted to show me something?”
You took a deep breath before reaching out for the zipper and button of his pants. You made slow work of them, trying to be as delicate as possible. You grabbed both the hems of his pants and boxers, Lucifer raising himself up so you could more easily shimmy the remainder of his clothing off. His hardened cock sprang free, your face boiling from seeing the very obvious precum that had already begun leaking from the tip. After tossing away his pants, gripped Lucifer’ s hips and brought him as close to the edge of the bed as possible, your lips now mere inches away from his impressive length. You swallowed harshly. Breathing became an increasingly difficult task. With tentative hands, you reached out and lightly gripped the base of Lucifer's cock, his low moan sent pleasure straight between your thighs. There was no going back now.
"Go ahead, my dear," Lucifer encouraged, "show me how sinful those hands of yours are."
Without any further prodding, your hand move languidly up and down his cock, the precum providing enough lubrication for smooth strokes. Lucifer groaned above you, his sounds were everything you'd imagined and more. Your strokes became faster, needing to hear more of Lucifer coming undone from your touch alone. But even touching him wasn't enough to satisfy your desires. Your hot breath so close to his most sensitive area had Lucifer shuttering. And even more so when you decided to run your tongue from the base of his cock to the very tip. You'd finally gotten your first taste of him, and that sent you into a complete frenzy. Your tongue worked circles around the head of his length and you could hear Lucifer's guttural moans turn into whimpers of pure ecstasy.
"F-Fuck," Lucifer managed to choke out as he watched you bob your head and down, taking as much of him as you could manage. "You-mnmm...s-sure seem to know what you're doing. S-Shhiiittt...I-I'm starting to think you-GA-AAHH...you really do b-belong down here." Lucifer's composure was fading fast even though he continued his taunting. His words lit a fire within in, increasing your movements to an unrelenting pace. "O-OH FFFFUU-UUCCCKK," he screeched, his hand now tightening around your hair for an assemblance of stability. His overstimulated cock twitched in your mouth; you knew he was close. "Y-You're gonna make me c-cum if you keep doing thaa-ahhhht...but t-that's what you want, isn't it? You wanna taste m-my cum, sweet girl?"
"M-Mhmm," you hummed blissfully, your mouth and hand working in tandem to bring him over the edge.
"Then d-don't stop," he commanded.
You did exactly as he said, not slowing down for even a second. The thought of kneeling before the outcasted being that you were meant to despise with every inch of your soul drove you mad. Now here you were, unraveling him with your hands and mouth alone. Lucifer was using all of his willpower to not thrust his hips into you and completely fuck your mouth. That would have to wait for another time. But once your other hand started to gently massage his balls, it was over. "Fuck fuck fuck FUCKFUCKFUCK-CUMMING," he cried out before finally emptying himself inside your mouth. You couldn't move away even if you wanted to the way he way holding your head in place. But you were perfectly content swallowing every drop of his hot cum. When the twitching stopped, he had released his grip on you, allowing you to pull away from him and gulp down the last of his seed. You looked up at him with a nervous smile, your hands now resting on his knees.
"H-How'd I do?" you laughed sheepishly. But your laugh faded once you saw the change in Lucifer's appearance. His eyes were no longer his normal soft yellow, but a deep crimson red.
"Oh, my sweet little angel," his voice dripping with desire, "you were nothing short of absolute perfection. How absolutely filthy you are for swallowing all of my cum. I love it!" He offered his hand to you, helping you off of the ground. He stood with you, pulling at the bottom of your dress. "But I'm far from being done with you." With a soft "yes", your dress was dragged over your head and tossed to the side in one swift motion, leaving you nothing but your matching black bra and panties. Lucifer stood there drinking in your form, his outstretched tongue swishing from side to side. "Gorgeous," he hummed against your skin before bringing his hot mouth to your neck. You squeaked at the sensation, but your surprise rapidly shifted to wanton moans. His sharp teeth and forked tongue raked across your pulse, sending waves of pleasure throughout your entire body. "I'll make sure everyone knows you're mine now..." he pulled away and looked up at you pleadingly, "that is, if you'll have me."
You smiled, tears now pricking the corner or your eyes. "I'm already yours."
Lucifer's breath had caught in his throat as he captured your lips, your mouth being invaded by his eager tongue. He hoisted you up by your hips, your legs instinctively wrapping around his hips as you hooked your arms around his neck to pull him even closer than before. He laid you down on the bed sweetly, now crawling his way up towards you. Lucifer's body now completely enveloped yours. The angel's disheveled hair and the sweat dripping from his forehead was truly a breathtaking sight. His captivating red eyes felt as though they were piercing your very soul, searching for every hidden desire you had locked away. Lucifer licked his lips seductively. "If my memory serves, I recall a certain someone telling me that they found my unholier side...oh, what was the word..." Lucifer feigned forgetfulness as his horns appeared from his skull, "Ahh, yes, I remember now. "Hot." Isn't that right, darling?"
Your face flushed furiously. You mentally cursed your drunken self as you looked up at Lucifer's smug expression. His demonic features made you quiver with anticipation. You've all but sold your soul to the devil himself and you were more than willing to give him everything he wanted. His red claws made quick work of your bra, unclasping it with ease and throwing it across the room. The urge to cover yourself was overwhelming, but it was like Lucifer could read your every thought. He held both of your wrists and placed them above your head, holding them there with just one hand while the other made its way towards your chest.
“Be a good girl and keep your hands there for me,” he ordered.
You nodded obediently. You clung onto the pillows above you as Lucifer let go of your wrists, placing both of his hands on your supple breasts, mewling from the stimulation. Lucifer pinched your nipples, rubbing them gently between his clawed fingers. The sharp ends of his claws poked at your skin while he continued his ministrations. Your meek whimpers turned into moans.
“L-Lucifer, please…” you begged. “I-I need-GAH…”
“I adore the way you say my name, love,” he praised. “Say it again.”
“Luciferrr…” you whined.
He rewarded you with a kiss. “What a pretty voice you have, all desperate and needy for me. So willing to submit…”
He let his mouth fall on one of your nipples, lapping and sucking the sensitive bud while kneading at your other breast. Your nails dug into the pillows, fighting every urge to reach out and touch him. But you couldn’t stand it, obedience truly had its disadvantages.
“Please Lucifer, l-let me touch you,” the request fell from your lips in a desperate plea. “Let me hold you…”
“Hmmm,” his lips reverberated against you. “Patience, love, patience.” Lucifer’s demonic tail appeared suddenly behind him, swaying back and forth. You watched as it lowered itself close to the hem of your panties. Slowly, it inched its way underneath and found itself between your slick folds. You couldn’t hold back a gasp once you realized what Lucifer had planned. “Allow me to try something first.” After giving him the "okay", you felt him flick his tail against your clit, causing you to arch your back, moaning unashamedly in the process. It was circling your swollen nub slowly at first, but quickly built up to a relentless pace. Your body shook uncontrollably as his tail abused your clit. “The way your body reacts to me is such a wonderful sight to behold, sweetheart. Look at you, so easily corrupted.”
It wasn’t long before you cried out in absolute pleasure. You could feel that coil in your stomach ready to snap. You'd barely been touched and you were helpless to fight against your impending release. “F-Fuu-aaahhhh Lu-Lucifer! I-I can’t-HHAAAA-gonna c-cum…g-gonna-FFFUCK!” Lucifer ignored your cries, only focusing on your breasts as you writhed under his touch. You screamed as your sudden orgasm hit you like a freight train, your walls clenching around nothing.
With a low chuckle, Lucifer removed his tail from your drenched slit, admiring your complete fucked out face. "You did so well," he praised, "I promise I'll get you some new panties soon, it wasn't very nice of me to let you ruin yours." You turned your face away from his to hide your embarrassment, only for Lucifer to give you a small peck on your very reddened cheek. "You can move your arms now, darling." At his word, you released the death grip you had on the pillows behind you and pulled Lucifer in for another deep kiss. You felt his lips curl into a smile against yours. "Would you like to keep going?"
"Yes."
"Hehe, so eager," he said poking your nose, "it's adorable. I think it's only fair that I get to have my fill of you now, don't you think?"
Your pupils dilated. "O-Oh, you mean..."
"Is something wrong?" he asked nervously.
"No! No, nothing's wrong," you reassured him, "it's just that...no one's ever offered to uhh, do that for me."
A mix of annoyance and confusion flashed across his face. "Wait, what?!" He sat up straight, resting his full weight on your stomach. "So, let me see if I'm understanding this correctly. You've gone down on men before but not one of them ever offered to return the favor?" You shook your head nervously. A fearsome growl erupted from Lucifer's throat and his eyes had turned a glowing red for just a moment; you couldn't help but shiver. "I'm sorry, but that's inexcusable! Hell isn't enough of a punishment for men like that. To only take and never give back." Lucifer made his way off of you and helped you sit upright against the pillows. "Please allow me to make up for their sins."
"O-Okay," you responded weakly, "only if you want to. I never want you to feel like you have to do anything for me."
He leaned into you for a tender kiss. "Darling, I want nothing more than to ravish you in every way possible; you deserve that and much, much more." You couldn't help but blush at his flattering words. "Lift your legs for me?" You did as he asked, allowing him to tug at the hem of your panties. You held your breath as you watched him drag them down the length of your legs and toss them away carelessly. You closed your legs instinctively, though you realized it was a little bit too late to try and hide yourself from him at this point. Lucifer only smiled and positioned himself in front of you, resting his hands on your knees. "It's alright, take your time," he soothed.
You nodded and let out the breath you had been holding. Lethargically, you began to part your legs for him, letting him finally drink in the sight of your soaked entrance. You noticed him gulp in response and couldn't hide the small smirk on your face. "Like what you see?"
Lucifer licked his lips mindlessly, staring at you like you were a meal to be devoured. "You have no idea," he answered, never taking his eyes away from of your glistening pussy. He laid himself down on his stomach, trailing soft kisses on either side of your inner thighs, leaving nothing but tender bite marks and hickies in his wake. With each passing second you became more and more restless, wanting nothing more than this torment to end. But Lucifer was savoring every bit of you and your heart couldn't help but feel full. At last, you felt his hot breath against your pussy, your body tensed at the sensation.
"Lucifer..." you whispered.
He placed one final kiss to your thigh. "For as long as I live, I'll never tire of hearing you say my name," he spoke sweetly, "Relax for me as much as you can now, love. And if you need to, you can grab my horns. They're there to help you."
"W-Why would I need to gra-AAAHHH" you tried to ask but were cut short after feeling Lucifer take a long, languid lick up your folds. It was something you'd never felt before, but you knew you needed more of it, and you needed it now. Luckily for you, the fallen angel between your thighs was more than happy to provide. His lips were pressed firmly against your aching cunt while his tongue quickly found your clit. The noises you were making were unholy but you couldn't imagine a more heavenly feeling. He moaned against you desperately, as if your essence was his life source. Without warning, Lucifer tossed your legs over his shoulders to give him better access to his prize. In your haze, you remembered his suggestion and took ahold of his demonic horns, doing your best to keep yourself grounded.
"God damn it," Lucifer snarled, "To think no one has done this for you, f-fuck, what complete and utter fools they were. I've never tasted something so divine." You felt his claws dig into your skin as he forced his tongue deeper into you, drawing out the dirtiest sounds you didn't know you could make.
"F-Feels so g-good," you babbled, your hands tightening around his horns. "P-Please don't stop, I-I..."
One of Lucifer's arms unhooked itself from your leg, his fingers now prodding at your slick. His tongue never stopped circling your clit as you felt a single finger slip inside you with ease. You whimpered from the sudden intrusion. "C'mon baby, need you to cum f'me." Another finger quickly entered you, two of them now thrusting in and out of you. "Let me taste you, all of you." Lucifer's tail swished behind him as he focused on coaxing another orgasm out of you. His tongue and fingers worked together to bring you closer and closer to the edge once more. His fingers curled inside you, your back arching as he hit your most sensitive spot with each motion. "I can feel you clenching...you're so close..."
And he was right. That same coil in your lower stomach was as tight as it could be, the knot threatening to unravel at any moment. "Lucif-fer, I-I'm gonna...fuckfuckfuck-GAAAHHH!" With little warning, your second orgasm hit hard, your walls now pulsating around Lucifer's fingers which refused to stop moving. You felt yourself empty onto his face, your cries filling the room, your hands stinging from how tightly you held onto his horns. As Lucifer helped work you down from your high, you couldn't help but notice the loud slurping sound that came from beneath you. He was lapping your cunt like a man starved. After another moment or two, Lucifer gazed up at you adoringly, his mouth completely drenched in your juices. Your hands flew to your face out of pure embarrassment. How could someone look so happy after basically being assaulted by your orgasm. "Y-You can't just look at me like that after you just did what you did!" you berated him.
"Look at you like what?" he teased, crawling on all fours and closing the gap between you. He gently pulled your hands away from your burning face and gave you the toothiest grin you'd ever seen from him. "Look at you like I'm the luckiest man in existence, you mean?" Lucifer kissed you once more, and you could taste the faintest hint of yourself on his lips. "And by the way, I'm absolutely addicted to your taste now, my angel. I hope you don't mind if I indulge myself every single day from now on. With your permission, of course."
You could only smile at him, caressing his face in your hands and locking your lips together once more. "Who would've thought the devil himself would be this perfect? I'm starting to believe that you may have fully corrupted me, my king."
The way his title rolled off your tongue made Lucifer shudder. "Not quite yet," he corrected. He laid you down gently as he trailed kisses down your neck and collarbone, stopping periodically to nip and suck as many parts of your exposed skin as he could. He then laid his full weight on top of you, and you could feel his hardened cock resting on your stomach. Your mouth ran dry, but you never needed something as much as you needed this. Needed him. To fully claim you and make you his. "Is this what you want?" Lucifer asked. "Because if you're not ready, we can stop right now. I won't be upset if that's what you decide."
You shook your head assuredly. "I'm ready, Lucifer. Even though I may not ever make it into Heaven after this, I'm not sure I want to anymore if it meant I'd have to leave you behind." You could tell by Lucifer's sudden change in expression that the thought of losing you if you were to be redeemed had never crossed his mind. His face fell at the realization, but you reassured him with a quick peck to his forehead. "Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere. And we can worry about the details later. But right now..." you ground your hips up into him, forcing a low moan out of your lover, "...I need you...please…"
"Oh, you're just a little devil, aren't you?” Lucifer chuckled darkly. He then pushed himself off you, settling himself between your legs. The head of his cock teased your entrance, and you gulped in anticipation. "Are you ready?”
"Y-Yes," you murmured. Your body instinctively bucked up in attempt to create more friction that you so desperately craved. Lucifer pressed your hips down firmly into the mattress to keep you from squirming. You whimpered in protest.
“Ah ah ah, all in good time,” Lucifer cooed. “It’s your first time, love, I don’t want to see you in any pain. Stay perfectly still for me, alright?” After what felt like an eternity, Lucifer at last pushed the tip of his cock into you. Your knuckles turned a solid white from the way you gripped the bed sheets beneath you. The pressure you felt was unlike anything else. “A-Are you still okay?” Lucifer asked.
“M-More, please Lucifer, I-I need…” you choked out. He was only an inch deep inside of you and the only thing on your mind was the carnal desire of having him fully sheathed inside of you.
“My pretty girl,” he whispered above you. Inch by inch, his hips pushed forward, stretching you out beyond what you thought was possible. Once he was finally fully inside of you, you and him moaned in unison. The complete fullness you were experiencing was something you needed to be engrained into your memory forever. He didn’t move for a minute or so, letting your body get used to his above average length. He didn’t want to break you. At least, not tonight. "S-So tight, f-fuck..." Lucifer's entire body quivered as his enormous angelic wings magically sprung from his back. You stared up at him in awe, taking in the heavenly sight above you. Your eyes followed from the base of his wings to the very tip. Lucifer noticed your gawking and laughed lightly. "My eyes are over here, darling."
You blushed incredibly hard. "S-Sorry, I didn't mean to stare. It's just...they're beautiful. Can I...? You didn't need to finish your question as Lucifer dropped his wings down, allowing you to reach up and feel them for the first time. You ran your hand down each set, your fingers combing through his scarlet feather. They twitched under your gentle touch. "Are they sensitive?"
"V-Very much," Lucifer breathed. "We can experiment another time, though."
"A-Another time?"
Lucifer looked down you puzzled. "I hope you didn't think this would only be a one time thing. That's not who I am, despite anything you may have heard. When I said I wanted everyone to know you were mine, I didn't mean just for tonight."
Your eyes began to water from his declaration. "You mean..."
Lucifer leaned down and kissed the tears that had began to fall down your cheek. "Yes, I do. I'm yours, if that's what you desire."
You smiled weakly, holding back a sob. "Yes, it is." You brought your hands up, cupping his face and kissing his trembling lips tenderly. Your kiss caused Lucifer to twitch inside of you, quickly reminding you of the pressure between your legs. "Y-You can move now, Lucifer...please..."
With a deep exhale, Lucifer pulled out of you slowly, only to snap his hips back with no hesitation. He repeated this motion, slowly at first, coaxing as many sound out of you as he could. Your cries of pleasure were intoxicating, pulling him deeper and deeper into a state of pure bliss. His hips rutted into you at a steady pace as he continued to hit your G-spot effortlessly with each thrust.
"You're d-doing so well, love," he growled animalistically, "t-taking me so well. You f-feel so good. Too good...Take it all f'me, want you to feel all of m-me. Look how g-good you are, taking the Devil's cock like this."
"L-Lucifer," you mewled. You couldn't form a coherent thought anymore, all you could manage to say was his name. "Lucifer, f-fuuu-uuck...Luciferrr."
"That's it, dear," he praised, the pace of his thrusts quickening. "My name on y-your lips is more beautiful than any melody I ever heard in Heaven." His grip on your hips tightened, pulling you closer to him as he mercilessly pounded into you over and over. "G-God, you're so fucking wet. Slipping in and out of you s-so easily. You g-gonna cum for me again?"
"Y-Yes!" you cried out helplessly. "I'm close, so c-close, I can't..." Your hands flew around his neck as your body shook violently beneath the fallen angel. Your stomach felt like it was in knots, you didn't know how much longer you could hold out. "G-Gonna cu-aaaAAHH,"
"Hold on j-just a little longer, baby," Lucifer said, wrapping his tail around your abdomen. "I'm close too...w-where do you want me to-"
"INSIDE! P-PLEASE!" you screamed, locking your legs behind his back. "I c-can't hold it, Lucifer, I can't, I can't, I CAN'T!"
"Naughty girl..." he taunted lovingly. "Cum for me now, angel. Need t-to feel you clench around me. Cum for me."
The coil inside of you snapped for a third time, your walls pulsating around Lucifer's cock. Your spasms had left Lucifer groaning, his head now resting on your collarbone. His own orgasm washed over him not long after you. You milked his cock, his hot angelic seed filling you up your cunt completely. Wave after wave of pleasure filled you both, reducing you to nothing but exhausted and sweaty messes. He stayed inside of you for a moment longer, both of you trying to recover from your release. Lucifer finally found enough strength to remove himself from you, and at long last reverting back to his normal state. He crashed down on top of you, looking at your through his half-lidded eyes and pulling you into a crushing hug.
"Lucifer...can't...breathe..." you forced out, tapping his shoulder rapidly. His grip on you loosened immediately.
"I'm sorry!" he apologized. "I forget my own strength sometimes. H-How are you feeling?"
Your faced flushed as you tucked your hair behind your ear. "G-Good. More than good. That was...just incredible!" you couldn't help but laugh to yourself.
"What's so funny, dear?" Lucifer asked with an amused look.
You smiled at him. "Oh, you know just...I was thinking about how I would go about explaining myself to my friends and family back on Earth. How the well behaved, never strayed from the light church girl just had the best sex of her life with the one and only fallen angel Lucifer. Wonder how well that would go over! They probably think I made it into Heaven!"
Lucifer laughed along with you, pulling you flush to his chest. "I'll admit, it's pretty ironic. But to be fair, I never would have thought you'd give me a chance."
You looked up at him confused. "What do you mean?"
"Well, you know, I am 'the bad guy' to believers. The winners always write history, and according to Heaven, I was the loser. And when I found out you were one of them when you were alive, I didn't think you'd even glance in my direction. I thought you were the most stunning creature I'd ever laid my eyes on when you first arrived here at the hotel. But I never truly pursued you because...the bad guy never gets the girl, right?"
You couldn't help but frown as he spoke. His voice was sad, full of hurt. It was clear that Lucifer has suffered though a lot of pain and anguish. You were told the story of Eden growing up, of how Lucifer had deceived Eve and in doing so, caused the downfall of humanity. But that was clearly only one side of the story. You gave a quick peck to his cheek. "You're not a bad guy, Lucifer. I know that now. I let my fear and my upbringing cloud my judgement before. Not anymore. I want to hear your side of the story, every detail. Will you stay with me and tell me?"
Lucifer's eyes softened, his lips forming into a tiny smile. "I'd love nothing more." He brought his hand to your cheek, leaning in to capture your lips once more.
~~~
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10,000 GOD DAMN WORDS, WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED?!?! ANYWAY, I HOPED YOU LIKED IT!
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roosterforme · 5 months ago
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Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 10 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: After just two days back home, Bradley takes you on a second date. He wants more, and you don't seem to mind when he can't keep his hands and lips to himself.
Warnings: Fluff, angst, language, Bradley being boyfriend material
Length: 5000 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader
Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist
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"Shit."
It had been such a long time since Bradley wore anything other than a flight suit, a khaki uniform or gym clothes, he had no idea what he was supposed to wear to dinner tonight. You mentioned weeks ago you thought Italian food sounded nice for a second date, and he agreed wholeheartedly. He managed to snag a table for the two of you at Salvatore's, and he was absolutely prepared to drop over five hundred bucks, but his clothing was becoming a situation.
After spending the entire day with you yesterday, Saturday morning was a bit of a reality check. He was trying to work through three loads of laundry while he sorted through a box of mail. There was nothing sweet in there like the packages you and your class sent to him while he was deployed. It was mostly bills that had already been automatically paid online, mortgage statements, and junk. Then he started folding laundry, somehow expecting some articles of clothing that weren't threadbare tee shirts or tropical print button downs to jump out at him.
"Why don't you have normal clothing?" he asked himself as he picked up his phone now that it was late enough to text you. He wanted to make sure you were okay with grabbing a drink before the dinner reservation which wasn't until 7:45. But when he unlocked his phone, instead of zero new messages, he found a picture you sent seven minutes ago. 
"Oh my god," he groaned softly, dropping onto his bed next to some unfolded laundry. You were in your own bed wearing his favorite sweatshirt and a bright smile.
Good morning, Handsome. Last night felt like a dream, but your sweatshirt is real, so it must have happened.
He scrambled to write back, clothing crisis forgotten. God, he wanted to be in that bed in the worst way. Things would definitely get out of hand pretty quickly, but he knew those first few kisses would be the sweetest things. After last night at the beach, waiting for a few more dates was going to be the challenge of his life, but he wanted you to know he was in this for the long haul. Especially after you mentioned that you thought he may have ghosted you.
Hey, Gorgeous. My sweatshirt looks way better on you than it ever did on me. Did you sleep in it?
He hit send and then wished he hadn't asked that question. He sounded like a horny twenty year old. It was bad enough that he had to practically beg you to go inside your apartment last night while you were kissing his neck, but he didn't want to embarrass himself.
Of course I did. It smells like you. The only thing better would be having you in my bed, too...
How the hell was he supposed to wait until this evening to see you? He tossed his phone aside. His blood felt like it was on fire, and he was sweating. Never before had he wanted to move this fast from a first date to making things official. But he knew you. He'd been working up to this point for months. And the Thai dinner with Prosecco on the beach wasn't really a first date. That felt closer to a reunion with a girlfriend than anything else. The only thing missing for that to have been true was a sleepover instead of him taking you home for the night. 
He was too many steps ahead right now. You hadn't yet done the drive down to Coronado from Mira Mesa for yourself, but he already caught himself wondering if you'd consider moving in with him in the future. "You need to relax," he ground out through gritted teeth. "You'll scare her away." He cracked his neck and forced himself to fold a stack of underwear before picking up his phone to reply.
I don't want to rush things, but your bed does look very comfortable. I'm confident we could get cozy there... You're making me blush. I need to get this conversation back on track. Cocktails before dinner at Salvatore's? I'll pick you up at 5:30?
A few minutes later, you responded with a photo of you still all snuggled up in bed, smiling and giving him a thumbs up in his shirt.
--------------------------
"Just in case," you muttered, making sure your bedding was straightened and your room was tidy. You left Bradley's TOP GUN sweatshirt folded on your pillow, but you certainly wouldn't mind having the man himself in your bed tonight. Your fingers and toes tingled when you thought about it. You bit your lip and scooped up his shirt, inhaling his scent one more time before you realized he would be here any minute.
When he knocked on your door, you set it back on your pillow and glanced at yourself in the mirror as you bounced past it. Cocktails and dinner at Salvatore's would have been a major splurge for a night out for you, but Bradley selected the restaurant. All you did was mention Italian food, and he really ran with it. You'd have been happy with some pizza and breadsticks, simply excited he remembered you mentioned Italian food at all, but this called for your littlest black dress and your brightest red lipstick. 
"I'm coming!" you called, going as fast as you could in your black heels, giggling at the double meaning. You had to compose yourself before you could open the door, and when you did, you were met with the actual man of your dreams.
"Hey, Gorgeous." Bradley's crooked little smile faltered a bit as his gaze slid down from your eyes to your lips, but he didn't stop there. He was shamelessly checking you out as a pretty shade of pink crept up into his cheeks, and you did a slow turn for him. 
Your skin felt warm as you met his eyes after doing a full circle. His lips were parted as you whispered, "Hi," and reached for his hand. As soon as your skin met his, he pulled you closer to him. "Bradley." His lips were on yours as he backed you up into your apartment until you softly met the wall behind you. He was big and warm, and you were holding his left hand while his right one came up to your face.
He broke the kiss by tipping your chin up so you were looking at him. "You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen," he crooned softly. Your lipstick was smudged along his mouth, and his tongue darted out to taste it before he said, "I'm fucking crazy about you."
His rough thumb dragged along your bottom lip as you said, "And you've never even seen me dispose of a spider for you."
"Baby," he rasped. "I'd probably propose."
A shocked giggle escaped you, and his crooked grin was back as he kept you there against your wall with your door wide open. You reached up and ran your fingers along the collar of his oxford shirt before tugging on the fabric until his lips were on yours again. You let your head tip back against the wall as he devoured you, tasting your lips, tongue and teeth before his forehead came to rest gently on yours.
"You know," you gasped, trying to catch your breath, "I thought all your emails were sweet and romantic."
He chuckled as he pulled away from you. "I was hoping I was doing okay in person, too."
You shrugged playfully and tried to spin out of his grasp, but his hand was still wrapped up in yours. He followed you to your coffee table so you could grab your purse as you casually told him, "You're even better in person than I thought you'd be."
"Oh yeah?" he asked, pulling you close again. "You like my stupid looking clothes and how I can eat three meals for dinner?"
He was so endearing, you didn't know how to handle him. So you kissed him again and whispered, "I like all of it." You let your fingers trail along his shirt buttons as you said, "You look nice in this, but I can already tell you're more comfortable in your colorful Aloha shirts and jeans. And I love that you can eat three meals for dinner, because we ended up sharing everything last night."
"Let's go," he coaxed, leading you toward your door. "I'll let you pick whatever you want to try at Salvatore's. I don't usually like sharing my food, but there's just something about you, Gorgeous. You make me feel comfortable."
-------------------------
You tried to tell Bradley twice that he still had some of your lipstick smudged on his face, but he just shrugged and said, "Good," in response both times. If he didn't mind, then neither did you. It couldn't be any more obvious that he was with you when the exact color that was on your lips was also on his. You listened to him hum along to the retro oldies station as he merged onto the coastal highway while you took a minute to fix up your own smudged lipstick.
He grinned over at you as you put your makeup away and said, "Come on, Baby. If you didn't want it on my face, then you wouldn't be putting more on your lips."
Every time he made a bold statement like that, you wanted to cancel dinner altogether and take him to your bedroom. "I never said I didn't want it on your face. It looks good." 
He reached out blindly for your hand, and you grabbed his immediately. "You did tell me you wanted me to kiss you as soon as I saw you."
"Yeah," you muttered. "Don't stop doing that." You knew things with him were going to get physical pretty quickly, but you'd never been quite this attracted to someone before. You drew little shapes on his palm as you asked, "How was your first night back in your own bed after so many months away?"
He groaned softly. "Epic. Fantastic. I don't fit very well in an extra long twin bed."
"No, I would imagine you don't," you said with a laugh as you watched him drive his Bronco in the evening sunlight.
He licked his lips and grinned as he said, "Would have been better if you were there though."
The eruption of butterflies in your belly left you biting your lip. You wanted to respond, but you needed to be able to make it through dinner before you were hanging off of him again like you were last night. That's when he brought your hand up to his lips and kissed your knuckles, treating you to his mustache there. "Feel like getting a drink or two in the lounge first? Maybe a bottle of wine?"
"Mmhmm," you hummed, ready to go anywhere he took you. As soon as he parked, he jogged around to help you down, letting you slide against his body with your hands on his shoulders. You wobbled a bit in your shoes, but he kept you steady.
"You good?" he asked as he leaned in, his lips brushing the side of your neck as his arm wrapped around your waist.
"So good," you promised. "Never better."
Bradley kept his hand right there on your hip as he led you along the sidewalk toward the restaurant. The lounge was packed; this was definitely a popular weekend date night locale. Couples filled the space with noisy conversation, but you could hear Bradley perfectly as his lips found your ear when he said, "There's an empty stool at the far end of the bar." He gave your hip a little squeeze as you headed for it, and he leaned on the bar next to you. "Why don't you pick out a bottle of wine or whatever you want? I'll go let the hostess know we'll be hanging out in the lounge."
When you agreed, he kissed your lips like the two of you had been at this for years, not just since yesterday. You weren't the only one who watched him walk away in his snug pants and Oxford shirt that somehow showed off his biceps. He was just that good looking. When you saw him without a shirt on, you'd probably faint and need him to revive you. When the bartender came over, you were chuckling to yourself at the idea of having sex with Bradley while he kept his shirt on to save you from that fate.
"Can I get you a drink?"
You looked at him in a daze, realizing you meant to choose a bottle of wine. You blurted out what kind you liked best, and with a nod and a smile, he turned to fill your request. And that's when you finally looked at the menu and realized the bottle was more than a hundred and fifty dollars.
"Oh shit." But it was too late. He had already opened it and was heading your way with it. You scrambled in your purse for your wallet, cringing at the idea of Bradley seeing the bill when you could have simply ordered a cocktail instead. Just as the bartender was pouring out a bit of the wine for you to try, you found your credit card successfully. And that was also when Bradley came back.
"They'll come get us when our table's ready," he said. "I told them it would be easy to find me since my date is the most beautiful woman in the restaurant." He watched the bartender pick up a second glass and said, "Oh perfect, you found some wine that you like."
You nodded and tried your best to pass your credit card across the bar undetected with your hand covering it. "I sure did."
Bradley's eyes followed your hand as he took a sip of the wine. "What are you doing?"
"Nothing," you told him, picking up your own glass with your other hand. You tasted the wine and nodded at the bartender, and then he filled up both glasses while Bradley reached for your credit card.
"That's not necessary, Gorgeous. You can put that away."
You waited until the bartender walked off before you shook your head. "Let me pay for the wine. I was distracted and just picked a random bottle before I looked at the price, and then it was too late because he already had it opened. It's expensive."
Bradley looked completely unfazed as he eased your card from your hand and tucked it back into your wallet. "I don't care about that."
"I do," you said softly in your embarrassment. "I don't want you to think that's what I expected."
Bradley laughed in response. "First of all, I would never think that. And second, I was on that aircraft carrier for so long, and this wine tastes so good, and you look so pretty... I don't even want to tell you how much I'd be willing to pay for that bottle of wine and our dinner."
You simultaneously felt better and a little warm. "Okay, fine. But next time we go out for dinner, we're getting burgers from In-N-Out, and I'm paying."
His smile grew as you sipped your wine which really was quite good. "So that means you want to go out again?"
You rolled your eyes up at him where he stood, his hand brushing your knee where it was crossed over your other leg. "I'm about to make an In-N-Out reservation right now."
"Perfect," he replied. "Which night? I have to work late a few days next week to get caught up on everything I missed while I was away."
"You're ridiculous," you told him with a laugh. "How about Wednesday?"
His fingers toyed with the hem of your dress as he said, "Wednesday's good. You also need to let me know when I can visit your classroom again." His words were so sweet, and his gaze was sincere, but the feel of his fingertips inching along your skin above your knee was something else. 
You set your glass down next to your purse and reached for his hand, letting his fingers slip underneath your dress as you met his brown eyes. When he teased your skin with his rough hands, you reached for his shirt, and Bradley came willingly. Salvatore's didn't provide the two of you with the same level of privacy as the beach last night had, but you didn't really care, and he didn't seem to either.
-----------------------------
You had the softest skin. How was he supposed to keep his hands off you? And that red lipstick made your little pout when he teased you even more delectable than he could have imagined. And he'd been doing plenty of imagining for the last few months. He'd imagined you in a variety of scenarios with him, but so far being with you in person surpassed everything his vivid thoughts came up with.
When he mentioned visiting you at work, you treated him to the silky soft feel of your skin, and then you literally grabbed the front of his shirt and tugged until he was kissing you. Oh god, he was never going to recover from this. He had to wrap his hand around the middle of your thigh to keep himself from going any further as you moaned softly into his mouth. He was absolutely starving and a little dizzy from the wine, but he was thinking about skipping dinner in favor of the solitude of the Bronco right now.
"Mr. Bradshaw?"
Your tongue was slowly tasting his when you jerked away from him as the hostess strolled over. Embarrassed, you turned toward the bar as Bradley grunted in response at the young woman who told him the table was ready for the two of you. And maybe that wasn't a bad thing, because feeling you up in the middle of the crowded lounge wasn't something he'd feel good about later. At least not on the second date. He'd bring you back here in a few months and see if the two of you even made it to dinner.
With a smile, he reached for your free hand after you picked up your glass. You halfway hid your face against his bicep as the hostess picked up the bottle and led the way through the lounge and into the restaurant. Bradley kissed your forehead and murmured, "If I could keep my hands off of you, this wouldn't be a problem."
You peered up at him through your lashes. "Hanging out on your couch alone is sounding better and better."
"Fuck," he groaned softly as you released his hand and took a seat at the table set for two which was overlooking the bay. Bradley pushed your chair in, and his thumbs met your bare arms. He took a few deep breaths before taking the seat opposite yours and accepted one of the menus as he listened to the specials while he looked at your face. He muttered some sort of response, and then the two of you were alone.
You emptied the remainder of the wine between his glass and yours, and then Bradley watched you lick a little droplet from your thumb as you smiled at him. "So which three dinners are you planning on ordering tonight?"
It took him a second to realize that he was holding an open menu even though he hadn't looked at it once. He cleared his throat and said, "Definitely some homemade spaghetti and meatballs. The last time I ate spaghetti, it was overcooked and sad, and I had to go back to my bunk and think about you to make myself feel better." You covered your mouth with one hand while you laughed, and it was the most charming thing he'd ever seen. "I'm so serious, Gorgeous. I got a plate of soggy noodles, and literally the only thing that made it better was imagining you teaching your class about military grade jets and aviation."
Your pretty eyes were glittering as you told him, "I keep extending my lessons on the topic, and you are completely to blame for that. After the first time you responded to us, my students asked about you every single day. They are completely enamored with you."
"Yeah? Just them? Or you too?" He knew his words were reminiscent of the way you'd tried to blame it on your kids when you asked him to send you a picture so you could see what he looked like.
"Hmm." You pretended to peruse your menu. "I'm thinking about the ravioli. Or maybe the penne with vodka sauce." Your foot tapped his leg beneath the table, and he had to fight the urge to reach under and touch your skin again. You were teasing him in every way right now, and he was absolutely loving it. When the waiter dropped off glasses of water and some freshly baked bread, he asked if you wanted anything else to drink.
"You want another bottle of wine, Gorgeous?" Bradley asked, deciding to tease you right back.
"Absolutely not," you told him, looking at him like he had two heads before kindly telling the waiter, "No, thank you."
He was still laughing when he picked up a piece of bread. "So we'll get spaghetti, penne and ravioli?"
"You don't have to order what I want," you told him, your foot still running along his calf while your expression dripped with innocence.
"No. I want to though." It was kind of fun spoiling you with something as simple as dinner. Vanessa would have made a comment by now about how much she hated the slightly kitschy, over the top restaurant, even if the food was supposed to be immaculate. You didn't seem to mind one bit that he ordered three massive entrees and intended to finish whatever you didn't. Vanessa always got embarrassed, but all you said was that you were excited to try all three.
There was never a lull in conversation. You actually listened to Bradley when he was talking, and he could have listened to you all night.
"So you know how last night I mentioned... that I'd never really thought about dating someone in the military who deploys for work?"
"Yeah," Bradley rasped, not sure he loved where the conversation was heading.
You looked a little apprehensive as you said, "I was thinking about it more last night after you dropped me off." 
"And?"
You kind of shrugged and said, "I think I'd actually be okay with it, as long as it's you. It almost feels like we got some big, scary thing out of the way already, you know? And I could always write to you, because I kind of loved doing that. And yes, Bradley, I am also completely enamored with you."
It was almost a shame that the food arrived then, because as you started to cut into an enormous ravioli, all he could think to say was, "I'm completely enamored with you, too."
-----------------------------
You were so full from dinner, you didn't know how Bradley could walk. He ate at least two times what you did, and then he insisted on ordering a piece of cheesecake. When you caught sight of the bill, you tried not to gasp, because it was more than you spend on groceries for a whole month. But he handed over his credit card and signed his name without even breaking conversation with you. And now you were discreetly grabbing a handful of mints on your way out of the restaurant as he held your hand.
It was late, and you knew he was still tired. He mentioned briefly that he had a lot of chores to do this week amidst some late nights at work, but you didn't know how you'd be able to wait until Wednesday to see him again. When he started up the Bronco and headed in the direction of your apartment, your mind flooded with questions, but he asked you one first.
"I already have plans tomorrow, but I don't think I can wait until Wednesday to see you again. What time do you usually get to school?"
"7:20."
"Okay. And what kind of coffee do you like?"
You couldn't stop smiling as you told him what you usually ordered on the rare occasion you had time to stop at Starbucks. You kind of already felt like he was spoiling you.
"Have you memorized everything I've ever told you?"
"Yep," he replied, his handsome smile evident in the street lights. "And I've gotta say, you're one of a kind, Gorgeous."
You honestly didn't want the ride to end. The fact that there was no buffer of traffic to add to the twenty minute drive made you pout a little bit. Bradley's deep voice layered over the music playing on the radio while he held your hand was intoxicating, but you made a disappointed sound as he parked in front of your building.
When he released your hand to kill the engine in the near darkness, all you could see was his handsome profile. "You thought the drive would be too much for me," you whispered. "But when I'm in the car with you, I don't want it to end."
He cleared his throat and softly said, "Well, we don't have to get out quite yet if you don't want to."
Your pout turned into a grin as you unbuckled your seatbelt. "I can tell you still need to catch up on some sleep. I don't want to keep you out too late, Bradley."
He chuckled and undid his own seatbelt. "Why don't you come a little closer and say my name again."
As you eased yourself onto your hands and knees, you scooted across the seat and whispered, "Bradley," with a little laugh.
"Closer?" he asked, and you crawled over to him until you were able to kiss his cheek.
"Bradley."
He turned his head so his lips met yours, and he whispered, "Closer," against your mouth.
You were immediately in his lap, your hands resting on his chest as the steering wheel met your lower back. Your lips found his scarred cheek just like last night, and you kissed your way along his mustache and the side of his nose. You let your hands drift slowly down over his abs until they met the leather of his belt, and you whispered his name one more time.
His big hands closed around your wrists as he groaned, "You really love teasing me."
You nodded and said, "I really do," as he guided your hands up to his shoulders and around his neck.
"You're really good at it, Baby. All those pictures of you in your bed are enough to get a man through a deployment and then promptly kill him once he's on dry land if he can't touch you immediately."
He kissed the inside of your arm, and you scooted your body a little closer to his. "You can touch me." Your words elicited a deep groan as he slid his big hands along your bare arms, leaving goosebumps in their wake. He kissed your lips, swiping his tongue against yours as his fingers trailed down your sides. You almost cried out when his thumbs grazed the sides of your breasts before he gently squeezed your waist and your hips.
You could invite him to stay over. You didn't think he'd turn you down if you did. But all you could manage to say was, "Bradley," between kisses.
He tipped his head back against the headrest and whispered, "I love the way that sounds." His eyes were glittering in the darkness as he looked at your face and your body, and you remembered his text message from earlier.
I don't want to rush things
It was hard for you to remember that yesterday in your classroom was the first time you touched him. The first time you heard his voice in person. As much as you wanted to lean in close and ask him to stay, instead you kissed his ear and said, "You promised me movie night on your couch. When?"
"Friday?" he asked, kissing along your neck. "Let me end the week with my Gorgeous girl?"
"Yes."
You were afraid you were going to melt right out onto the pavement when he opened his door, but he helped you down and kept his arm wrapped around you. Bradley walked a half step behind you in the darkness all the way to your apartment. While there was no expectation that he was going to join you inside, you ended up pinned against your door, because it didn't seem like he was quite ready to leave yet either. 
He was eager. You could feel it as his lips found your neck again. He smiled against you as he whispered your name in that deep raspy voice. "Since you don't like surprises, I'm telling you right now that you should expect to see me in the parking lot at your school on Monday morning. Sound okay?"
"Oh god, yes," you whined as he released you. There were so many things you wanted to tell him as he put a foot of space between your bodies, really giving you a chance to see his pink cheeks and the way he was breathing deeply. You blurted out, "I'm falling so hard for you."
His crooked little grin was back as he nodded at your door. "Lock it behind you. And when you get in bed, in my sweatshirt, send me another selfie."
"I will," you promised, and you did exactly what he said. A minute after you texted the photo, you got a message back from him.
I think I'm falling even harder.
-----------------------
I'm so obsessed with them. She was so concerned about that bottle of wine! And he really wasn't lol. Coffee and burgers and a couch date coming up. This story will be 18+ soon. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 11
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ohbo-ohno · 3 months ago
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cuckolding - simon ‘sells his sperms’ to reader and her bf who’s infertile. they can’t afford ivf so the traditional way it is but just the tip and jerking off into her pussy. that’s what was agreed anyway
simon ends up taking whatever he wants from her because how can we fuck if we aren’t properly aroused sweetheart? let’s do a few rounds to increase the chances eh? she’s so desperate for a baby that she complies. she’s secretly into it even. poor reader’s bf :( watching her make out with this stranger and take his cock in her mouth too
hello beloved. im ghoapifying this. pls forgive me
smth about johnny having kinks that he doesn't want to admit to/doesn't recognize... him subconsciously looking for a way to get those needs met...... it's delicious
thinking about you and johnny deciding you want a kid but after months and months of trying with no results, you're starting to lose a bit of hope. the both of you get your fertility checked, and johnny is pretty crushed to learn that he's shooting blanks. makes your relationship a little rocky for a while tbh bc he becomes kinda obsessed with proving his own virility to himself
when you two eventually decide (through a mix of dirty talk, pillow talk, and very emotional conversations) that you want to try ivf, you realize pretty much immediately after that you don't have the thousands upon thousands of dollars necessary just lying around. it's johnny who consoles you when you realize you won't be able to afford the treatment, and it's johnny who decides that he's going to fix the problem himself
(ghost is looking for odd jobs when he spots the listing on craigslist. smth so terribly worded that he almost thinks it's a joke, at first. there's not a single comma used properly, it seems like every other word is misspelled, but the earnestness is clear through the screen. the request was posted five minutes ago, and ghost is the eighth comment - a quick glance at the other accounts shows him that he's the youngest by at least a decade)
soap and ghost message, for a while. soap is pushy as hell, asks for pictures of ghost's face and gets a few of his cock instead. says he's not sure if ghost is the right pick, since he looks nothing like johnny, but keeps messaging him anyway. simon is pushy as hell, asks everyday when they're gonna meet up, gets pissy when johnny keeps pushing it off
(soap sends pictures of you sometimes. they start out innocent enough, pictures of your face from your instagram or your side profile when you won't catch him with his phone up. johnny finds it easy to ignore the guilt he feels when ghost says send me one of what i'll be fucking and johnny does, sends a picture of you fucked out and face down that you had no idea existed. you're limp, slick and come dripping from your hole, and johnny can't help the way he gets hard when ghost's only response is one without your useless spunk inside her. she won't have to put up with it much longer)
when you finally meet ghost, you're unaware of all of this, of course. johnny had just told you he wanted you to meet a friend of his from work, and you'd been excited to go out for a night on the town with him. you'd found simon off-putting, to be honest, but he'd already said he'd be picking up the tab, so you just indulge in a few more shots than you normally would and stay cuddled close to johnny most of the night.
johnny only tells you the real reason he introduced you two when ghost says 'm steppin out for a cigarette, i'll pull the car around for you two and lumbers off, lighter already out.
ye still want a bairn, right? johnny had said, eyes bright as he wrapped his arms around you, kept you pressed close to him. simon can give one to you, to us. he's not even gonna charge us, bonnie, how great is tha'? you'd gaped at him a little, and he'd interpreted your expression as fear. hush, naw, don't worry, lass, i'll be there the whole time. promise i won't let him hurt you, yeah? we can even hold hands, alright?
the time between you sitting in a booth with your legs thrown over your boyfriend's lap and your back flat on your bed is a blur in your mind
simon is heavy over you, both of your wrists held in one of his hands as he ruts against you. you're drunk enough that you can't focus on much but the heat between your thighs and the long kiss simon has kept you locked in. he strips you easily, forcing you high up on the bed so you can rest in the pillows, forcing your legs around his hips so he can pin you
it's only when he pulls back to undo his belt and strip himself that you finally remember johnny is in the room too.
he's bent over the edge of the bed, hardly two feet away, and you can hear the sound slick sound of him fisting his cock, can feel the way the bed shakes just a bit as he fucks his own hand. you sort of whine, reaching out for him, soothed when his free hand links with yours, his own eyes a little wet like they always are when he gets so hard that his thoughts melt away
"eyes here," ghost grunts, big hand covering one half of your face as he forces your gaze away from your boyfriend and back to him. "you don't need to look at him. he's not the one gettin you knocked up, is he?"
you and johnny moan in tandem for that, and your eyes are wide as saucers when you finally look down at the battering ram between ghost's thighs, the ruddy tip of him leaking as he strokes himself.
"you're too big," you manage to gasp, squirming back.
ghost makes a sound somewhere between a scoff and a laugh, lining himself up with your drippy hole and pushing in without warning. you nearly squeal at the stretch, digging your nails into his shoulders and pushing against his thighs with the heels of your feet. your squirming doesn't stop him, and he doesn't give you even a second to adjust as he uses his weight to sink himself to the hilt inside of you
he makes you look in the eye while he fucks you. and he talks a lot - he says more while he's inside you than he did your entire evening in the bar earlier
you feel good, huh? this the first time you ever had a real man fuck you? yeah, the brat humpin' the bed isn't enough for you. bet you always felt empty when he fucked you, but he didn't even need to stretch you out before rutting here. a hand rubbing your clit, making you nearly scream from the added pleasure as he fucks you so hard that the headboards slamming against the wall. bet my seed'll take first try he grunts into your ear, and you hear johnny moan from your left. might even give you more than one, huh? have you fat and round with my babies, make him watch you grow and take care of you, if he can even manage that.
when simon finally comes, he fills you up more than johnny ever had. makes you wait to come until he does first, too, tells you that he googled it while pinching and twisting your clit until you burst beneath him, your cunt squeezing his soft cock as your eyes roll back in your head
(johnny cuddles you, after. he tries to fuck you but ghost won't let him, holds him back by the hips and squeezes his balls until he goes soft, spits i don't want your spunk fucking with mine. you gonna waste my time like that? thought you wanted me to fuck your girl pregnant? were you lying, johnny, or you just so fuckin' desperate that you'll break our deal? and johnny whines and cries but listens, holding you close and pressing his cock against your folds but never inside of you)
((ghost doesn't leave the next morning. doesn't leave the next week, actually. he fucks you every day, even when you insist that you're not ovulating anymore, that he doesn't have to keep trying to get you pregnant. the first time he eventually lets johnny fuck you again, he holds him by the hips and stuffs a few fingers inside you along johnny's cock, says she got used to me, johnny, we'll have to give her a little extra if you want her to let you fuck her again and laughs when johnny whines.))
(((he doesn't even leave when you take your first pregnancy test and get positive results. he rubs your back as johnny scoops you up off the ground, rumbles his own quiet congratulations. a few days later you try to hint that he can leave now, that you and johnny don't need him anymore. he doesn't listen, but that's okay, because you can't quite imagine what you would do if he did leave, how you and johnny would function without his rock steadiness - you're relationship had been a rollercoaster before simon, insane highs and terrible lows, all smoothed out when ghost came into the picture and started playing referee for the two of you)))
((((when you're eight months pregnant, you lounge in a rocking chair as johnny rubs your feet and simon builds a crib.))))
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babyleostuff · 3 months ago
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── GOING (CRAZY) SEVENTEEN
SYNOPSIS: chan can't help but fall for their new director, no matter how many clauses in the contract prohibit him from doing so
🎵 CLOSE TO YOU - gracie abrams
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𝜗𝜚 THEME: fluff, strangers to lovers / idiots to lovers, a whole lot of pining, svt being menaces, attempt at humour 𝜗𝜚 PAIRING: idol!chan x fem!gose director!reader 𝜗𝜚 WORD COUNT: 4.5k
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“you’re going to be the youngest director they’ve ever had.” 
well, that was one way to make you even more nervous. 
you didn’t have to think twice when pledis offered you the job of being a gose director two months ago. of course, you were grateful for all the jobs you’ve managed to get over the past years; they were the ones that helped you kick-start your career and established your name as a pretty well-known director after all, but this - this could be your big break. working for a company as big as pledis, well technically hybe, was a dream come true, and it would look great on your CV.
though you wouldn’t lie - you were scared shitless to meet seventeen. 
they were a big, big group, and if they were as chaotic and loud in real life as they were on camera, then you weren’t sure how you’d survive the next few months. 
especially not with your crush on one of them.
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“did you hear we’re getting a new director?” some of the boys raised their heads from where they were laying on the grass, while the rest ignored seungcheol as usual. “she’s going to be here today,” he continued, and flicked hoshi’s forehead to get his attention, “so please be nice, and try to act somewhat normal.”
the boys mumbled something in unison, too tired to talk. as much as they loved shooting gose, doing it after a full day of schedules was a nightmare. they’d much rather be in their beds than laying on the fake grass in a warehouse because it was too late to shoot outside.
“why the hell did they pick a sports concept for today?” seungkwan mumbled with his cheek pressed to the ground. “couldn’t they do like a,” he sighed, “sleeping concept.”
“yeah,” hoshi agreed, his voice just as drowsy as seungkwan’s. “carats would eat that up.”
wonwoo rolled his eyes, and turned his head towards chan so the boys wouldn’t hear him, though they probably wouldn’t have either way considering they were seconds from falling asleep. “if they’ll keep on whining like that i’m literally going to walk out of here,” he groaned, and rubbed his face to wake himself up a bit.
chan couldn’t agree more. he was tired, and hungry, and he was starting to get cold, the loose sleeveless shirt doing nothing to keep him warm, and all he could think about was bed bed bed, so hoshi’s and seungkwan’s whining did not help a single bit.
fifteen minutes later, with half of them asleep, and the rest barely awake, the filming crew started to gather up to set up all of the cameras and microphones, with the rest of the staff placing different props they’d be using all over the warehouse.
chan could feel his eyes drooping for the tenth time in the past few minutes, when he suddenly heard a quiet “uh-oh” over his head. before he could ask a simple „what?”, a sharp pain pierced through his shoulder. 
“i’m so, so sorry. i really didn’t mean to.” 
he exhaled sharply, and put his hand over the small red patch on his skin, that was pulsating from the hit. well, at least he was more awake now. “no worries, my shoulder has been through much worse than getting hit by a… um,” he looked around himself to check what exactly almost crushed his bones, “a medicine ball,” chan let out a strangled laugh. no wonder it felt like a dumbbell fell on his shoulder.  
but then he looked up, and the person standing in front him left him utterly speechless. 
chan wasn’t sure if had fallen asleep or if he was being delusional because of the sleep deprivation, but the girl had to be an angel. in the twenty five years of his life, he had never seen anyone as gorgeous as her, and he was not being dramatic. 
“are you okay?” you asked, and crouched in front of the boy you just managed to almost injure. you said you’d be able to carry all of the medicine balls yourself - clearly that wasn’t true at all.
wait a second… the eyes. the hair. the gorgeously sculpted biceps. you knew him, it was…  no it couldn’t. 
and yet, you found yourself crouching in front of the one and only lee chan. 
you didn’t consider yourself a big fangirl, but you were (obviously) aware of who he was. for some reason whenever you stumbled upon any content of seventeen your eyes were instantly drawn to the short dancer, that despite the lack of height stood out to you the most. and you weren’t going to lie - he was hot as fuck, and he looked so good while danicing that it was almost impossible for you to tear your eyes from him.
and now you almost killed him.
“i’m really, really sorry,” why wasn’t he responding? maybe the ball hit his head after all? what if he was pissed, and they would fire you? “please, say something.”
chan, on the other hand, was completely gone. “god, i must be looking so pathetic right now,” he thought. his band met tens of people on a daily basis - from stylists, interviewers, photographers, makeup artists, stage assistants - whoever you could think of, chan has already met them.
everyone but you.
“um, i’m um,” pull yourself together chan,” i’m cool.”
“i'm cool”?! he wanted to take the medicine ball that just hit his shoulder, and bang his head against it instead, because that had to be the lamest response he could have ever thought of. it wasn’t like the prettiest girl was right in front of him, nope.
“are you sure? do you need me to get someone to check the shoulder for you?”
and now you thought he was being a wuss? oh god, he really screwed up.
“no, no,” chan said quickly, and sat up a bit more straight to look like he had his shit together, when he clearly was not. “i’m fine, really, don’t worry.”
you nodded, though you weren’t sure if you could trust him. his shoulder was still slightly red, but thankfully it didn’t seem like anything was broken. injuring one of the boys would be like the worst way to start your new job. 
„okay, so um,” you pointed in the direction of the cameras, “i have to go.” 
“go?” the words slipped out of chan’s mouth. “loser, loser, loser.”  
“work,” you whispered, your throat suddenly dry. why was the air so stuffy, it was quite perfect just a minute ago. 
„uh, yes, of course,” chan said, matching your breathless tone. 
you took a last, long look at him, and got up to pick up the ball that fell out of your arms.
time to get professional again.
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“i’d like you to meet the new director. as you probably know, she is going to be in charge of today’s episode.” 
this had to be the most awkward situation of your life. standing in the middle of a circle of people you barely knew was not an ideal situation, definitely not when it looked like you were about to be sacrificed in a weird kpop idol ritual. also the seventeen boys looked like they’d rather be anywhere else than there, so that in itself made you want to run out of the building. you didn’t know what to do with your hands, or where to look, or if you should say something, and if you should - then what? “what’s up?” “how is everyone doing?” “can you stop staring or i’ll pass out?” 
you figured it couldn’t get any worse than that, if it was officially your humiliation day - then so be it. “hel-,” 
“because we don’t have much time today, let’s just start right away.” 
well, there went your speech. 
you had to be looking like the biggest loser, standing there with a half-opened mouth, and an awkwardly raised hand.
as everyone started to take their places, with the boys gathering in the middle in front of the main camera, your eyes wandered on their own to find the only person that made you feel somewhat comfortable amongst the chaos, which was kind of ironic since you hit him with a ball and exchanged a total of three sentences. unfortunately, you quickly had to push away your thoughts about the boy with dark hair and kind eyes and focus on your work. 
you were sure everyone could hear your heart pounding, as you yelled your first, official “action.”
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“dude, why do you keep staring at her like that?” vernon nudged chan’s arm. “you know you look like a total creep, right?” he asked with an amused expression. 
“i’m not staring,” chan said way too quickly for it to be true. his parents were right - he was a terrible liar. 
“uh-hu, sure,” vernon snickered, and shook his head. “then tell me why you’re suddenly so interested in the cameras that you keep gawking that way.” 
chan felt like crying. he was sure he wasn't staring at you that much. right? “i think seungkwan needs a hug, so could you leave me alone?” no one needed to know about his little infatuation with a girl he had just met, and though technically vernon wasn’t the one to walk around spilling people’s secrets, it was still embarrassing. 
“whatever you say,” vernon said, and got back to typing away on his phone. 
the truth was - chan couldn’t keep his eyes away from you. sure, at first the main reason why he paid attention to you was because of how pretty you were, but when the shoot actually started, and you fell into your element - he just couldn’t get over how attractive you looked behind the camera. your face was more often than not covered by the multiple screens from which you monitored the shooting, but from whatever glimpses he could catch - you looked absolutely mesmerising. 
and now he wasn’t talking about your looks, but about your attitude, and confidence, and how you carried yourself. 
“okay, let’s shoot the last scene, and we’re done,” you said, pointing the cameramen to where they should stand to get the perfect shots. 
and again, for what felt like the hundredth time that night, the boys positioned themselves in front of the main camera, with mingyu explaining the rules of the last game. 
“but the twist is, we’re going to have our eyes blindfolded, so we won’t be able to see the football or our opponents,” he said, showing the ball and thirteen blindfolds he was holding in his hand. “we won’t be able to see our teammates either, for that matter,” he added, earning a couple of laughs from the boys. 
after a quick game that you didn’t understand the rules of, they divided themselves into three teams, and started the game. 
for once, everything seemed to go on smoothly, and you figured that nothing would happen if you stepped out from behind the cameras for a moment, and stood aside with the rest of the staff to watch the guys play (or rather fall or bump into each other).
however, there was one thing you didn't see coming. 
somehow, by pure accident, chan managed to get the ball. "guys i have it!" he shouted, and immediately started running in the direction of the goal. or so he thought. 
you couldn't help but laugh quietly. the boy looked so adorably clumsy, kicking that ball like a child who had just learned to walk, and waving his arms as if it would help him with something.
chan, however, overestimated his ability to determine exactly where the goal was, because the moment he kicked the ball to score, everyone suddenly started shouting "stop". 
but it was too late.
he quickly took off the blindfold, and his heart sank when he saw what, or more precisely who, he shot the ball at. “shit,” chan didn't wait for his eyes to adjust to the light, but quickly ran towards you.
“i’m so, so sorry,” he said, looking at your face twisted in pain. “i didn’t mean to, i’m-” 
“i think i heard something similar today,” you laughed, and pressed your hand tighter against the spot where the ball managed to hit you. “it’s not as bad as it looks,” you added, seeing chan’s worried expression. 
“not that bad? i hit you right in the forehead!” 
“no need to make me feel even worse about this,” you sighed, sending him an apologetic look. “i think i’ll grow a second head from this hit.” 
chan groaned, and hid his face in his hands. “i’m a fucking idiot.” 
he hadn’t been on that many dates in his life, but he had never acted… like whatever that was. “i really didn’t mean t-,” but then a thought hit him, “oh my god, what if you have a concussion? or if i damaged something inside your head, or-,” 
“chan, i promise, the inside of my head is fine.” 
chan. oh, the way you said his name. he's never been more grateful for someone to call him by his real name rather than his stage name.
“are you sure?” he asked, worry filling his voice. 
“positive.”
“but please, if, god forbid, your head starts aching, go to the hospital, okay?” 
“i will,” you nodded, gently pulling your hand away from your forehead. chan could see a bruise starting to form, and he swore he had never felt that bad in his whole life. “you can say we’re even now,” you added with a small smile. 
now that he was sure you were relatively okay, he finally breathed a sigh of relief and looked around him to gather his messy thoughts, and that's when he noticed everyone, every single person, looking at the both of you. because of this whole mishap, chan forgot that you were literally surrounded by dozens of people who were now watching you like you were in a shitty sitcom. only the boys' looks were too amused for his taste, and now he was sure that they figured out his little crush that he had on you. 
“good job, brother,” mingyu snickered, when chan went back to the boys. “good job.”
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“wake up on monday.” → “go for the shoot.” → “cry because i can’t have her.” → “go home.” → “cry even more.” “repeat.” 
that’s how the past couple months looked for chan. every single week he waited for the day when he could finally get on set and see you again. it was honestly heartbreaking how the only thing he was allowed to do was to greet you with a shy “good morning”, and bid you “goodbye”, but if he did anything else it could look suspicious to others, which he could not risk. still, those moments were the best part of his week. 
when the third month had passed since you came into his life, chan began to regret having met you in the first place. what was the point if he couldn't even ask you out for coffee? you were everything he was missing in his life - and he didn't even know you that well. chan couldn't count how many times he spent his time off stalking your social media to find out more about you, to get to know you better, because he couldn't do it any other way. and each time he felt his feelings turn into something more than just a small, innocent crush.
“you look so miserable right now, it’s almost pathetic,” seungkwan said, eyeing chan from head to toe. “can’t you just like go and talk to her? that would put us out of the misery of seeing you look like a kicked puppy.”
“you know i can’t just do that” chan sighed, looking at you with longing in his eyes. 
“why not?”
“because of our contract? we can’t get close with our staff, you know that,” he said, each word piercing his chest. knowing that you were so close, yet so out of reach was really hard. 
“and you’re going to let that stop you?” seungkwan deadpanned. “seriously. you like her. she obviously likes you,” wait, she did? “so please, just talk to her.” 
obviously he didn’t approach you that day. if, with a big emphasis on if, he finally decided to talk to you, he had to be ready so he wouldn’t look like an idiot like last time. though you probably already thought he was a creep (he liked one of your instagram posts from a couple of years ago by accident), so it couldn’t really get any worse than that. 
but seungkwan said you liked him too, right? 
“ugh, why does it have to be so complicated?” 
“chan,” suddenly he felt a featherlight touch of a hand on his shoulder. wow, no one has ever touched him with such gentleness, “could you stand over there?” 
“huh?” he turned around, just to come face-to-face with the person that made herself at home in his thoughts, and would not leave, no matter how hard he tried pushing her away. chan cleared his throat quickly and straightened his shirt. “where do you want me to stand?” good job, that was smooth. 
you pointed to the marker on the floor next to jun. “just for the beginning, then you can obviously, um,” the way he always left you speechless was starting to piss you off. he always knew what to say, and here you were - as awkward as ever. “you can move around later.”
“what should i say now?” chan thought, his brain panicking. this was his chance to finally say something, but as usual he couldn’t come up with anything that wouldn’t make him look stupid. “why is she always so well-spoken?” 
in the end chan just lowered his head and waddled over to the marker where he was supposed to stand, giving up at making a move. once again. 
two hours later went by, and you couldn’t shake off the feeling that something was off with chan. he didn’t joke, he didn’t smile, he didn’t laugh even once, and he didn’t really engage in the discussions with the boys. he was just… there. it was eating you alive that you couldn’t do anything. without his spark he looked so tired, like he hadn’t slept for days, and if it was up to you you’d halt the whole thing, and take chan far away from here because seeing him like this was unbearable. key word - if. 
“let’s take a break, guys!” you said, hoping that no one would question why, but you had to get chan out of there, at least for a minute. “uh, chan?” please, just don’t fire me for this. “could you come over here for a second. i, uh,” you should’ve come up with an excuse before you opened your mouth, “i need to fix your mic.” 
“is something wrong with his mic?” one of the staff chimed in, looking between you and the boy. “i can get it fixed.” 
“no!” you said in unison with chan. you bit your lip to hide the smile that was threatening to bloom on your face, and stole a quick glance at him, taking in the blush dusting his cheeks and neck. 
you cleared your throat, and tried to put on your most indifferent expression - you couldn’t blow your cover now. “no, it’s okay, i’ll do it,” okay, okay, we’re almost there, “but can we go outside for a second, i need some fresh air.” 
chan nodded quickly - way too quickly, and followed you through the set towards the door. 
“don’t stay out for too long, lover boy!” seungkwan yelled, and a couple of boys couldn’t help but burst out laughing. you even saw mingyu falling over seokmin’s lap in silent giggles, his whole body shaking. 
if chan was a blushing mess before, he had to be looking like a tomato, now. “i will kill them,” he promised himself. 
“i’m sorry for them,” he said once you made it outside. it struck chan that it was the first time in months that you were finally alone - not a single soul was breathing down his neck, and no stupid bandmates waited for the opportunity to make fun of him. “they are idiots sometimes,” he said, rubbing his arm nervously. 
“it’s okay,” you mumbled, suddenly very self-conscious. maybe you should’ve just stayed inside? what were you thinking? god, this had to be the epitome of your stupidity. “i guess that’s just their love language,” breath girl, breath, “like bullying, you know?” 
“tell me about it,” he snickered, and shook his head. why were his hands shaking so much? “so um, what about the mic?” 
“the mic?” 
“yeah, the mic,” he laughed softly, pointing at the small device. 
“oh, yeah. the mic.” 
it was now or never. 
“look, everything is fine with the mic i just…,” this was so so stupid. “i just wanted to…,” spit. it. out. “you know what, nevermind.” 
you officially hit rock bottom. now chan would not only think you’re lame but stupid, and a creep, because who drags someone out of a building to “fix” their mic just to tell them that the issue never existed in the first place. plus you couldn’t even get a proper sentence out. 
what you didn't know was that chan's heart was beating like crazy. he'd never seen you so nervous, but god - you looked so cute. the way your eyes shyly met his, how your cheeks were adorned by a faint blush, and how you constantly tucked your hair behind your ear even when there was nothing to tuck anymore. 
so seungkwan was right after all - you liked him as well. 
he had to do it. he had to do it now or he would never do it and he would never forgive himself for it for the rest of his life. maybe all he needed to finally confess his feelings to you was the knowledge that you also treated him as more than just someone from work?
“wait,” chan said, and grabbed your wrist as you took a step towards the door, “i need to tell you something,” he loosened his grip, and lightly ran his thumb over your skin. he saw your eyes wander from your joined hands over to his face, and god - he could get lost in them for eternity. “maybe this will be the biggest mistake of my life but i have to tell you this. i understand if you don't feel the same way as me, but," inhale, "i like you. i really, really like you,” he said and laughed because shit - he finally did it, after so many months. 
for a few seconds, there was a deathly silence between you, interrupted only by the sounds from the set, and chan felt as if time had stood still. sure, he was prepared for the possibility that you didn't feel the same way as him, but please please please. he wasn't sure how he would cope if you rejected him.
“i-i,” you stuttered. was this really happening? or was this all just a cruel dream? but the feel of his skin on yours, his gentle hold, the smell of his cologne, his hair blowing in the wind - it all felt so real. “is this some kind of joke?” you managed to mutter.
the corners of the chan's mouth turned down. "a joke? baby, i've never been more serious about anything as i am now," your breath caught in your throat hearing the pet name coming from him, but it seemed like chan didn't even realise he said it.
"do you have any idea how many nights i spent thinking about you? about what makes you laugh, and what makes you cry? i tried to figure out what your favourite food could be, so i could ask you out and take you to the best restaurant. if you prefer sunrises or sunsets, or if you pour the milk or cereal first, and what are your biggest icks and pet peeves. if this is your definition of a joke, then yes, i’m joking."
at this point chan was ranting, but he didn’t care. he needed you to understand how bad down he was for you, and if he had to make the biggest idiot of himself - then so be it. 
“and if this is all a dream then i hope i’ll never wake up, because i can’t imagine my world without you in it,” he said. 
“are you always this dramatic, lee chan?” you mumbled, looking at him with big eyes. so this was real, after all. the boy you spent the last months pining over was just as crazy about you as you were about him. 
chan breathed a sigh of relief, and shook his head. “when it comes to you? yes. i’ll be as dramatic as i have for you to understand how i feel about you.” 
you blinked, still in denial. “what about the contracts?” you asked, and reached out to push back a couple of loose strands of hair from his forehead. 
chan could feel his heart bursting as you slid your hand down from his forehead to cup his cheek, and he immediately nuzzled closer to your touch.“i don’t know, and i don’t care,” he twisted his head to place a gentle peck on your palm, “i don’t want to spend another second on thinking about what it’d feel like to be next to you.” 
one year later…  
“i still can’t believe you made bets on my relationship,” chan groaned, as he plopped beside you on the couch, but before he could make himself comfortable you were already snuggled into his side with an arm draped over his middle. 
“it was the only way for us to have some fun. you both looked so lovesick it was honestly disgusting,” seungkwan pretended to gag, which earned him a kick in his shin from your boyfriend, and a couple of laughs from the rest of the boys.  
“still, you guys are stupid.” 
“not more than you moping around for months,” wonwoo sighed. “talking about a slow burn,” mingyu added. 
“well at least i’ve got a girlfriend,” chan kissed your temple, and cuddled you closer, “and the closest thing to a relationship you have is with your dumbbell.” 
mingyu put his hand over his heart. “ouch,” he said, and wiped a non-existent tear from his cheek. 
it's been a whole year and the guys still loved to joke around about your slow burn of a relationship, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. each day with chan was a blessing, even the boys became such a big part of your life to the point where you couldn’t imagine it without the whole thirteen of them. 
lee chan was like a last missing puzzle piece that you were searching for to become whole. he was your best friend, your rock, your safe place that you’d search for in every crowd. 
“i love you,” you muttered into his neck quietly, so only he could hear. chan’s grip tightened around you for a second. “i love you too. so much.”
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woso-dreamzzz · 3 months ago
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Injured (Alba's Version)
Alexia Putellas x Teen!Reader
Summary: You are forgotten
TW: childhood neglect, depressive thoughts, suicidal thoughts
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When you are four, Mami forgets you at nursery.
Tia Alba gets angry but Mami apologises and Abuela gives you back to Mami.
When you are five, Mami forgets you at school.
Tia Alba has to come and get you but Mami apologises and Abuela gives you back.
When you are six, Mami forgets you at ballet.
When you are seven, it's at school again.
When you are eight, it's at your friend's house.
Nine is at a birthday party and ten is after a recital.
You start taking yourself to school at eleven. You don't have a bus pass so you walk the hour to school, there and back every day. You take yourself to ballet and to your recitals.
At twelve, you join the Ballet de Catalunya ballet school.
Alexia forgets your celebration dinner.
At some point, you don't understand when, something snaps in you. Days off are spent in bed, with no energy to do anything but rot.
Jaume is a rising star in his age group, rising through La Masia's ranks quickly.
It's all Alexia talks about at dinner.
How talented he is. How good he is. How he scores goals like they're easy.
The tickets to your recital sit forgotten in your bag.
The seat in the front row is left empty.
You stop coming down to dinner.
You eat alone. Breakfast. Lunch. Dinner.
Your recital clashes with Jaume's game.
You've got a solo. You've been working towards it for months.
Alexia tells you to skip your performance to watch Jaume's match.
You don't.
You go to your recital. You perform your heart out.
The Artistic Director of the ballet company comes to watch. He offers you a spot in the actual company. He wants you to dance. To properly dance. To have a career in dance.
You want that too.
You're still a child though. You can't sign a contract by yourself. You need a guardian to sign for you.
Alexia's mad at you though, mad that you didn't turn up to support her son. She's mad at you for putting yourself above him.
"Family is meant to support each other," She tells you," Family sacrifices things for family. Do you think that your grandmother didn't sacrifice things for my football? That Alba didn't?"
It's funny, you think that night, as you stare up at your bedroom ceiling. You're invisible to her most of the time, the ghost that lives in her house, until it's something to do with her golden boy.
It's not all bad. At least, you don't think it is.
Alexia is a good mother.
She makes dinner and she gives you somewhere to live and she clothes you.
There's family days out and little restaurant trips and holidays away during the summer.
She comes to your parent-teacher meetings and pays for all your new ballet equipment, your shoes and your leotards and your leg warmers.
You get a train on your birthday and a cupcake.
You are being dramatic.
Alexia is a good mother. You're just different to her.
It's easier for her to relate to Jaume. He is like her. He loves football and everything that comes with it. His love for Barcelona rivals Alexia's. He is everything you are not.
He is Olga's son.
You are not.
"I don't like arguing with you," Alexia says as she sits on your bed at night," And I'm sorry. I just...I just wish you understood what this means to your brother."
You hold a pillow to your chest, still turned away from her. "I wish I did too."
Alexia rests a hand on your side, gently rubbing her fingers along your skin, trying to sooth you.
You feel like you're going to cry. But you won't.
Not in front of her.
"Dinner's in the microwave."
"I'm not hungry."
"Well, when you are."
"Okay."
"Goodnight, y/n."
"Night."
You forge Alexia's signature and start training in the ballet company of your dreams.
You don't know when it happens or what sparks it but one day, you walk from practice all the way back home.
Your feet hurt and your legs hurt and something in your chest bursts free and you sit on the beach and sob.
Something in you is broken, shattered like a mirror that someone's desperately trying to fix without having all the pieces.
Part of you is missing.
You don't know what part is missing. You don't know when it is stolen from you but it isn't there anymore.
Lots of parts of you are broken. Some more than others. Some missing completely.
There's something wrong with you as years-old exhaustion sets into your bones. Something in you is irreparable as you stare out to sea.
There's a pier to your left, as empty and quiet as you feel inside.
It's dark now.
It had been midday when you'd left practice.
You'd been at the beach ever since, just staring out at sea.
It would be so easy to walk until the end of the pier, to sit down on the edge and dangle your feet over it.
The drop isn't enough to kill you but the sea is deep enough that you'd drown if you don't swim up.
That's interesting, you think.
How far does someone's instincts go?
If you jumped in, would you automatically kick and swim up?
Or would you consciously be able to stop?
If you were in the water, could you bring yourself to open your mouth and breath?
Or would your brain stop you until you were safe again?
You kick your legs, staring at the water.
The night makes the sea look even more daunting.
Somehow, that's comforting to you.
If you jump in now, someone won't find you until morning. If they would ever find you at all.
The water is inviting.
You imagine it will be peaceful when you finally go.
Like falling asleep.
You'd just float away.
It's so tempting.
You can't imagine anything sweeter but your phone flashes.
Tia Alba: How are you?
You can't remember the last person to ask you that.
No.
That's a lie.
You can't remember the last person to ask you that outside of Alba.
A sob forces its way out of your throat and you're crying again, uncontrollable, gut-wrenching sobs.
Something is wrong with you.
That's all you can think as your aching feet walk you away from peace.
You walk away from salvation.
There's a doorknocker on the front door. It's rusty and the paint is patchy, flecked off from a life well used.
The door opens.
"Bambi?" Alba stands behind it. "Are you okay?"
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shankss-magnificent-ass · 4 months ago
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Imagine giving Shanks baby fever
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At a tavern
Child: I wanna join your crew!
Shanks: pfft, no way
Child: I'm a real good fighter, I won't get in the way, I promise!
Shanks: hmmm, [taps his chin and looks like he's thinking about it]
Child: [thinks he's going to get a chance]
Shanks: hmm...Hmmm?... No
Child: aw come on
Child's mother: [barges into the tavern holding her infant] Julius Antony D. Frost! What do you think you are doing here? You haven't finished your chores, the goats got hungry and two of them broke into the house!
Child: but mom!
Child's mother: here hold this [foists her infant into your arms and drags her son off by his ear]
You: ??? [Looks to the local barkeep for help]
Barkeep: she'll be back when she realizes, just look after that little girl until then.
You: [pulls the infant closer to you and glowers]
Barkeep: I know it's a little unorthodox, but that lady has six kids, you're holding her only daughter, and her husband is a fisherman. This means he's gone most of the time, and her five eldest boys keep her busy, so please don't judge her, we help her out as much as she'll allow.
You: fine, [goes over to your table with Shanks]
Shanks: [cocks his head and gets a good look at the baby]
Baby: [looks at Benn and starts to cry]
Shanks: [pushes Benn away] You're scaring the baby.
Benn: ay! Ay! Alright, alright, I'll move.
You: [bounces the infant, pats it on the back, and starts to sing to try]
Baby: [settles down, and relaxes against your shoulder]
Shanks: wow, I didn't know you were so good with kids.
You: I didn't either... [Turns to the barkeep] Can I get this table wiped down so I can set the baby down?
Barkeep: [ obliges]
You: [sits the baby's weight down on the table, but keeps your arm around her so she's still leaning against you] Are you the cutest baby in the world?
Baby: ◝⁠(⁠⁰⁠▿⁠⁰⁠)⁠◜
You: [gasps] Yes you are, you are the cutest baby in the whole world. [Gently tickles her tummy]
Baby: [giggles]
The crew: [find the two of you painfully adorable]
Baby: [ turns to Shanks and makes grabby hands at him]
Shanks: [ leans in closer]
Baby: [grabs a handful of his hair]
Shanks: she's got a good grip on her, how old is she? A year?
Barkeep: yeah, fourteen months, I think.
You: oh I could just eat you up, yes I could! In fact, I think I will. [Blows raspberries on her tummy]
Baby: [erupts into laughter]
You: [ pulls the baby back to your chest, leans back against Shanks, and smiles up at him] She still has that baby smell.
Shanks: (⁠๑⁠♡⁠⌓⁠♡⁠๑⁠)
Child's mother: [bursts through the establishment's doors] Holly!
Baby: [whips around to look at her mother]
Child's mother: oh thank God, thank you for looking after her, I'm so sorry.
You: it's okay, she's easy to deal with, plus from the looks of it you had your hands full. [ Passes her her child]
Child's mother: she is, isn't she? Thank you have a nice day. [Leaves with her child]
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Later that night
Benn: you've been eyeing them all night, what's up.
Shanks: [shifts his gaze from you to Benn] So I'm not as subtle as I thought I was... I dunno. Ever since seeing them with the baby, what was her name? Holly?... I guess I can't get it out of my head.
Benn: oh you've got baby fever, don't cha?
Shanks: [blushes] maybe
Benn: I thought you didn't want kids on this boat anymore?
Shanks: I don't, that hasn't changed. [Gets up and heads over to you] What do you say we call it a night?
You: hmm, alright, I'm getting tired anyway. [Lets Shanks lead you to the Captain's quarters]
Shanks: [is handsy with you the whole way]
You: [doesn't mind] You seem rather frisky tonight, or at least friskier than usual.
Shanks: Sorry, but seeing how good you are with kids really ignited something within me. [Smooches up and down your neck]
You: I thought you didn't want kids?
Shanks: For Fuck's sake, I don't, not yet, but that doesn't mean I don't want to practice. [Dumps you on the bed and starts to take off his pants.]
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caesium-55 · 7 months ago
Text
—seven days [ epilogue ]
pairing: max verstappen x manager! reader
summary: as the third time world champion, max verstappen's manager, you function on the belief that whatever max verstappen wanted, max verstappen shall get. but this time, after four years of working as his manager, you can't give him what he wants anymore and that was to stay.
warnings: mentions of death and suicide.
author's note: here's the epilogue and the end end of the seven days series. thank you everyone for showing love to this fic! i was honestly so overwhelmed by the sheer amount of all of you. also, i apologize for all the broken hearts i caused after posting chapters 4-7. stay safe yall! i'll rest my fingers for real now. my doctor wasn't very happy with me. NOT BETA READ. NOT EDITED.
tags: @whatamidoingwithmylife-ramdom @eugene-emt-roe @bellezaycafe @barnestatic @theseerbetweenus @wcnorris @notyouraveragemochii @lpab @vildetry06 @a-beaverhausen @formula1mount @loloekie @alucardsdaddyissues @juky-ps @cassianswh0reeee @devotedlycrookeddonut @amberpanda99 @supermaxv1 @evie-119 @spideylovin @harianaswhore @formulaal @landorris @onecojg @leclercdream @vicurious28 @c-losur3 @spookystitchery @0710khj @strollnstroll @justab-eautifulmess @ssrcsm @seasonswinter @kravitzwhore @mycure156 i hope i didn't forget anyone
masterlist.
Julio [Name] was not an ambitious person. He didn't have dreams or concrete plans in life. But in 1985, his first dream was born. He wanted to be an F1 racer after reading about the Portuguese Grand Prix in a local newspaper where he saw a Brazilian racer even younger than him participate in it and winning it. Ayrton Senna was the racer’s name, twenty-five years old. At that time, Julio [Name] was the same age.
He immediately searched for the nearest karting track. He brought his then girlfriend, Sally Kingston, a dental student in USC, to the kart zone for their date. It was safe to say that driving was not exactly his forte. He crashed his rental kart and had to pay the damages. He was afraid that he made himself a loser in front of the Sally Kingston, the richest, prettiest, and nicest girl from L.A., and that she wouldn't wanna go out with a bumpkin like him anymore, but she had only laughed at him—her eyes turning into little crescents, showing too much teeth and gums—and from then and there, he knows he’s going to marry Sally Kingston one day. He might not have become a F1 driver, but he ended up marrying the girl of his dreams.
Him and Sally welcomed a son in 1991. They named him Damiano and he turned out to be a carbon copy of his beloved wife, not that Julio was complaining. When Damiano turned five, Julio brought him in the kart zone and let him try driving the kart. Damiano adored it so Julio signed him up for racing school. Three weekends later, Damiano got sick of driving around in circles so he stopped. Sally gave birth to a daughter in the same year—1996.
Five years later, he brings [Name], his mija, into the kart zone. He expected that you’ll be like Damiano, too, getting sick of the thing after three weekends or so. You didn't. You loved karting and going fast, almost dangerously so. You lasted five weekends so Julio signed you up for the kart zone’s junior racing school and you were their first female member. You won your first race when you were six, only seven months after you officially joined.
“She was born to race,” the team head told Julio. Julio then decided that he’d do whatever it takes so you could become a F1 driver.
Like his initial dream, his dream for you couldn't be brought to reality. When you were nine, you had to stop karting for financial reasons. Damiano was in high school, Rafael had leukemia, and Dominic had just been born. When Julio told you the news, you were sad but you understood why the decision was made so you never complained. You learned how to play billiards instead and your Abuelo was the one who taught you. It's cheaper than karting so Sally and Julio gave you their full support.
Julio [Name] was pleasantly surprised when you told him that you got accepted in USC’s engineering department years later. He half expected that you’d be like Damiano, who took an interest in dentistry, and was attending dental school. He was going to be a dentist like his mother. He was a perfect copy of Sally.
“If I can't be a racer, I’ll become a mechanical engineer,” you declared, head held high. Julio couldn't be anymore proud. You were living his dream.
If you asked Julio [Name] if he had lived a happy life despite not reaching his dreams, he would say yes without hesitation. He married the love of his life, Sally Kingston, now Sally [Last Name]. His first son, Damiano, had topped dental school and followed in his mother’s footsteps. His daughter, [Name], graduated with flying colors, a mechanical engineering degree under her belt and entered the motorsports industry, the first in the family to do so. (You even got him Fernando Alonso’s autograph! That's his second favorite driver!) Not only that, she volunteered at the LAFD during her college years and competed in a billiards tournament in Vegas, Australia, and the UK. You had the potential to be an international-level pool player but you didn't pursue the sport because you wanted to be an engineer. Rafael didn't let leukemia beat him and now, he’s finishing up his last year in CalTech, pursuing mechanical engineering like his older sister. A research team in Sweden had been eyeing him for a while now. Dominic, on the other hand, is steadily building a career for himself in volleyball. He was offered a sports scholarship in Harvard so, despite the fact that he’s going even farther than his siblings with no relatives near him like in L.A., Julio pushed him to pursue what he wanted. His children are his pride and joy. He spent every single day bragging about his children to his colleagues. The others had expressed their envy to him. Did Julio save a country in his last life to have such great children?
Furthermore, he’d been promoted to be the captain of Station 131 in Austin. Julio may not have driven an F1 car but he wouldn't even trade this family over anything in this world, not even the life of luxury and thrill of a Formula One Driver.
(What Julio didn't know was that Damiano had serious depression in dental school that he carried even after graduating, that you weren't accepted as an engineer in F1 and was stuck in a managerial position for the last five years, that Sweden found a better researcher than Rafael so he’s stuck suffering physically and mentally in a degree with his future unclear and cloudy, and Dominic was slowly losing passion in volleyball but it's the only thing putting him through college right now so he grits his teeth and put himself on court. No one told Julio. Julio got enough of his dreams broken already.)
Truthfully, despite working for Red Bull for half a decade, you never liked its taste. You were always the Monster Energy type of girl. It's the one drink that kept you functioning through all the all-nighters you pulled in engineering school. However, you kind of lost the palate for Monster Energy so now, here you are, standing outside a gas station mini mart in the middle of the dusty highway that leads to El Paso. You hold the chilled can of Red Bull against the side of your neck, satisfied with the feeling of something cool pressing against your skin. The temperature in Texas is going absolutely crazy this time of the year. In your other hand, two cigarette sticks balance in between your fingers. You crave the deadly nicotine. Desperately. But you're not stupid enough to smoke at a gas station because of your cravings.
Your phone vibrates and you pull it out of your pocket to see who messaged you. You snicker when you view the barrage of pictures from the Austin Grand Prix that Leo sent. A stolen shot of Logan, meme faces of Alex, the air show, a selfie with THE Fernando Alonso, and a Tiktok video with the other Williams mechanics.
You watched the race from the stands today and truthfully, you prefer watching the race in the garage than on the stands. It's unbelievably boring to be there. People pay thousands of dollars to sit under the excruciating heat of the sun and catch a glimpse of very fast cars for a nanosecond. You wouldn't even catch sight of if you blink. Nevertheless, you're happy that Leo is having the time of his life. You wish you share the same shoes.
leo: so so sad that u have to go
you: id be flattered if u actually mean it
leo: *rolling eyes emoji*
leo: i hope you choke on your beer
you: i hope you choke on the celebratory champagne
you: and i dont drink and drive
leo: good to know ur not stupid
leo: on a serious note make sure to drive to el paso safely
you: aight aight
leo: u know i have something to confess
you: if it's something stupid, don't bother
leo: ur stupid
you: fuck u
leo: shut up
leo: just wanna say i didn't break up with u bc u gave max too much attention
leo: i know that's what i said but i only said that bc i knew that u needed max to achieve ur dreams
leo: and idk i just thought max wouldn't give it to u not when im still dating u
you: that's stupid
you: max isn't like that
leo: hes in love with u
Your heart stutters. You ignore it.
you: liar
leo: i could tell u lil shit
leo: idk he looked like someone who’d hold a grudge
you: he does hold grudges
leo: and i cant allow myself to stand in between you and the one person who can give you your dream you know?
leo: i loved you enough to let you go to him
You choke on your saliva. You don't love Leo romantically anymore and you are sure that the feelings are mutual but his abrupt confession is enough to bring back the pain of loving him and letting him go all over again.
leo: u sure u won’t stay to see him?
leo: he’s the one who wants to see you the most
you: his ig messages makes me think otherwise
You're a fucking coward. A pussy.
leo: you didn't see the man [name]
leo: you don't know how empty he looks now
A shadow of guilt darkens your eyes. You quickly shove your phone into the pocket of your jacket. You open the Red Bull and take a large swig, almost draining the entire can. You exhale loudly after drinking, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. You stare at the vast expanse of the dry earth before you, starting to understand the appeal of aimless road trips in the southern roads.
The world seems to be turning in slow motion now.
Ever since your father died, time feels like it was moving too fast. You arrived at the hospital half an hour after Julio was officially pronounced dead. At that time, you felt like the world was ending. Your knees gave out in the middle of the hospital hallway. Your mother’s wail echoed in your ears. Damiano and Dominic were trying to console her, both of whom were crying terribly. You stare at them, face empty despite the hurricane brewing within you. Rafael wrapped his arms around you and you held onto him as he cried uncontrollably.
Your mother possessed a weak heart. She’d grown weaker and weaker day by day after your father passed. Your father’s station held a ceremony for him to pay tribute to their fallen captain. You were the one who carried his helmet all throughout the ceremony because the entire station knew you were his most prized child. When you flipped the helmet, there was a photo taped on it. A photo of the entire family at your graduation ceremony in USC. You maintained that tired and empty stare during the entire procession. In the middle of the ceremony, your mother collapsed.
Your father’s death was the first domino to be tipped. Your mother’s collapse during the funeral was the second. From then on, everything turned to shit. Your mother had always been frail and prone to sickness so it didn’t surprise you when she had grown so weak in a matter of days. She couldn't sleep. She didn't want to eat. She lost her will to do anything else. You took her to the hospital after a week because you were afraid she was beginning to become malnourished. Damiano suggested moving your mother to El Paso, to your Abuelo and Abuela’s farm, so your mother could recuperate there, and you agreed. The entire family moved to El Paso quickly, leaving the house in Vista Del Pueblo empty and celebrated the New Year there.
You opened your phone for the first time since you landed in ATX on the 30th and a barrage of messages had been sent to you. From Daniel, Logan, Leo, Kendall, Julia. You freeze when you see Max’s name. Your finger hovers above it, hesitating. Your mind trailed back to the five years you spent in Red Bull, to all the memories with Max in it, to what happened inside his penthouse in Monaco, the jet, the night you spent in his sheets, the shoes and—
Fuck.
“Kelly,” you mumbled to yourself, typing her username in the search box. You began typing up a message. You're not mentally equipped to write a long message of apology. Your mental dictionary was not ready to use so you decided to half ass the entire message and hope for the best.
you: sorry about the breakup
you: i didn't know about the shoes
you: i didn't take it
you: im so sorry
you: i hope you're not too hurt
In truth, you loved Kelly for Max. You never had problems with her. At first, you were concerned about the great age gap between her and Max as she was even older than Danny but then you figured that you did not have a say because Leo was also younger than you, born in the same year as Max. Then, you saw how she was so caring to Max, so patient in dealing with his misplaced anger, so supportive. You saw how Max transformed into a better version of himself, something you are not even capable of doing, because of Penelope and Kelly. How he became the world's most massive girl dad without trying. You ignored every bitter feeling that sprouted on your chest because you saw Max was happy and his happiness always came first. And now, you’re here, apologizing to Kelly for taking Max away from her.
kelly: i think i’m the one who’s been taking him from you
kelly: take care of him for me
you: thank you for loving him
You can't imagine how hurt Kelly was. Imagine dating and preparing a man so he could be perfect for another girl.
you: but i can’t do what you're asking
you: not anymore
“Not anymore,” you whisper to yourself, as if uttering it to the wind would cement it as the truth.
Not anymore, Max. I’m sorry.
Rafael and Dominic told you that they want to drop out of college to help you out with Mama a few days after New Year’s. You quickly told them no, to finish college and that you could handle taking care of two senior citizens and your sickly mother and help out on the farm since you’re essentially jobless at the moment.
The third domino is Damiano. You were always aware he’d been clinically depressed, taking medications to help him get better. Whatever he went through in dental school, he carried it with him until he was working. You believed he was getting better. He was seeing a therapist for years now and you were checking up on him every day. Then, like Mama, he just…. became worse. Rafael found him submerged in the bathtub in his apartment, red painting his wrists. Had Rafael not been there at the right time, Damiano would have followed Papa Julio.
The fourth domino is Dominic. He ruined his hand in March. The doctor told him it was dangerous for him to continue playing volleyball competitively. It was either he learned how to set with only his non-dominant hand because his dominant hand is partially crippled or he stopped playing all together. He’d choose the second option with no hesitation as he had lost his passion for the sport but if he’s not playing for Harvard anymore, no one would be able to pay his fees until graduation. Not when Julio died, not when Sally was too sick to continue working, not when Damiano was currently unstable, not when you’re the only one who had been supporting the entire family through your entire savings account. Red Bull must have paid you a lot of money because you’ve been keeping the entire family afloat for months now.
The fifth domino is Rafael, who got his entire thesis overhauled so now, his graduation was out of the picture. It sucked. He’d always been expected to follow his older siblings’ footsteps, both of whom are academically excelling individuals and Rafael had been studying and studying and studying. So why was this happening to him? Why was this happening to his family?
The sixth domino was yet to be tipped over.
You refuse to fall.
You blink, suddenly back in reality when you hear a loud caw of a bird flying above your head. You shake your head, tossing the Red Bull in a nearby trash can and returning inside the mini mart. The amount of caffeine in a Red Bull isn’t enough. You need more. You need fucking coffee.
Gas station coffee sucks but you’re never the type who complains. El Paso is still eight hours away and you’re sure you're going to be driving your motorcycle the entire night just to reach the farm the next morning.
You walked towards the Yamaha XSR 155 parked in front of the mini-mart, a styro cup of coffee that’s as black as your soul and as bitter as your life in your hand. Hypnotizing swirls of steam rise from the cup. In each step you take, the key that is attached to your hip jingles.
It's a little past four in the afternoon but the darkness of the sky makes you think it's around six PM. You pocket your cigarettes and stand beside your motorcycle, hand on your hip while the other brings the cup of coffee to your mouth. A car suddenly arrives, coming to a screeching halt in front of you. You flinch in surprise, almost spilling your coffee in your hands. You hiss loudly, brows furrowing, a curse sitting on the tip of your tongue. You hear the sound of a car door opening and slamming shut and when you look up—
“Max.”
He’s still in his Red Bull overalls, drenched in sweat as if he ran to the gas station instead of driving. His hair is windswept, sticking out in multiple directions almost attractively so. He looks simultaneously distraught and relieved when your eyes met. The longing in his eyes. God. You unconsciously take a step back and turn around—a flight response—when he charges in your direction.
A strong pair of arms wrap around you from behind, stopping you from your tracks and causing your coffee to spill and fall down pathetically on the floor. You avoided the puddle, hands reaching behind you to guide Max away from the steaming liquid. But it’s too late. You saw the hot coffee touch his skin.
“Max!” you exclaim, eyes going wide. Your hand wraps around his forearm, pulling it but his grip on you tightens so you resort to tapping his arm in hopes that he’ll let go and you can inspect his injured hand and make a quick run for the mini mart for first-aid supplies.
“Max, let go,” you say, panicking. “Your hand—”
“Don’t leave,” his voice cracks.
“I won't go, okay? Let go and I’ll—”
“No,” the hug tightens and you suck in a breath. “You’ll leave again. I know you’ll leave again.”
“I’ll fix your hand. You can’t burn your hand—”
“I can endure it. Let me have this please,” he pleads. You pull his hand but Max remains stubborn. Resigned, you sigh. It turns out that you’re still the same, giving whatever Max wanted.
“I’m sorry for getting angry,” he begins. “I’m sorry for stopping you from going to Renault. I’m sorry for promising that I’d talk to Christian. I’m sorry that I didn't. I’m sorry that you had to break up with Leo because of me. I’m sorry that I realized that I fell in love with you while dating Kelly. I’m sorry for the shoes. I’m sorry for getting drunk. I’m sorry for being so selfish. I’m sorry for not considering you. I’m sorry for loving you. I’m so, so sorry, [Name]. For everything.”
His words come rapidly and frankly, you don't want to hear Max like this. Max rarely apologizes. You're not used to hearing him apologize.
“Max—”
“I called, [Name].”
You freeze.
“I called so many times. Not once have you answered. Not once—” a loud sob erupts from his mouth, interrupting him. “You always come when I call.”
You close your eyes, letting out a shaky breath.
“I sent you a message,” he continues. “To wait for me. I know I’m selfish but can I have five minutes please? Just….five?”
A pause.
“Okay,” you whisper. Max’s body trembles against yours and you stand still for a few minutes,
“Hey,” you say gently, suddenly reminded that you're standing in an open space and Max is still in his Red Bull overalls and he doesn't even have his usual cap on and this compromising situation you're both in was going to be bad for Max’s online reputation once the wrong pair of eyes manage to catch sight of you. You can already imagine what the headlines would be.
MAX VERSTAPPEN AND HIS FORMER MANAGER CAUGHT HUGGING IN A GASOLINE STATION AFTER AUSTIN GP.
MAX VERSTAPPEN AND FORMER RED BULL MANAGER IN A RELATIONSHIP?
FORMER RED BULL MANAGER POTENTIAL REASON FOR BREAKUP BETWEEN KELLY PIQUET AND MAX VERSTAPPEN?
MAX VERSTAPPEN CHEATED ON KELLY PIQUET WITH FORMER MANAGER?
MAX VERSTAPPEN, FULL-TIME WORLD TIME CHAMPION, PART-TIME CHEATING ASSHOLE.
God. You can already imagine the headache splitting the entire PR team’s skulls. The world already hates Max because of how good he was at his sport. You can’t allow people to shit on him more because of you.
“Max,” you try again, tapping his forearm so he can loosen his hold on you and you can turn around. “Max, baby, cooperate with me for a bit, yeah?”
You tug on his wrist and you can't help but sigh in relief when his arms loosen a little. He’s beginning to choke you a little bit. With his arms still around you, you pivot on your heels so you’re face-to-face with his broad chest.
When you look up to Max’s face, your heart shatters into a million pieces. His tears continue to flow and violent sobs wrack his entire body, robbing him of the ability to speak and barely allowing a breath to be drawn. He’s going to hyperventilate. Fucking dammit.
“Max,” how many times have you said his name in the last few minutes? “Hey, breathe with me.”
Your hand cradles his jaw and your eyes focused on his blue ones and fuck, they’re as insanely beautiful as you remembered.
“Breathe.”
You perform exaggerated inhales and exhales so Max can match your breaths, his hands settling on your shoulders. His palms feel heavy against your shoulders and his fingers dig deep into your skin.
“I’m here, Champ. I’m here,” you assure him. “I’m here now.”
You wait until he calms down a little and when he does, your right hand searches for his, intertwining your fingers together to assure him that you’re not going anywhere just yet. Your other hand comes up to hold the area below his neck and you slowly guide him back to his car. It’s a little difficult, Max obviously has no intention to let you go, but you know how to make things work.
Max sits on the driver's seat with you standing outside of the car. He's still clinging onto your hand and you use the other hand to hold the roof of the car for support. Max stopped crying now, staring blankly at you with a sad pout on his face. His tears are now dry, staining his cheeks.
“You okay now, Champ?” you ask, never failing to sound gentle. That's what Max needs now. Gentleness. God forbid you pull a Jos Verstappen.
Max shakes his hand, making you sigh deeply. Your eyes trail to the hands, the pale skin now an angry red.
“Max,” you call his attention. He looks up at you and you have to avoid his gaze because if you look at his face, your heart hurts. “I’ll get something from the mini-mart for your burn, aight?”
He shakes his head and his grip on your hand impossibly tightens. If he keeps this up, he’s going to break your bones.
“No.”
If you were the same person that you were in 2023, you would have let Max do what he wanted. What Max wanted, what Max shall get—that’s the philosophy you lived by. But things are different now. Leo told you that you’re allowing Max to take too much from you and Max needs to learn to actually listen to you.
You’ve been taught to treat even the most minor of burns as if it’s a major burn. That's what you are planning to do right now.
“Max,” you say, a little firmer now. “Gonna grab somethin’ in the mart real quick, you stay here, aight?”
“No—”
“Not askin’, Champ,” you interrupt him. “I'm not leavin’ yet, not goin’ anywhere until I make sure you’re okay. So stay here and wait.”
You swiftly remove the key attached to your belt and force it into his palm, “Here are my keys. I’m not goin’ to drive off and leave you here, aight? Do you trust me?”
You have a feeling that this anxiety of his might have stemmed from that one incident in his childhood where Jos left him at a gas station. Fucking son of a bitch that man was.
Hesitantly, Max says, “I do.”
“Good,” you ruffle his hair, dampening your palm.
You can see he does not like what you're doing now but he does not have any choice so he sits in the car, looking as pitiful as ever. You jog up to the mini-mart, immediately going to the beverage section to grab a bottle of water and passing by the hygiene shelf to snatch a handkerchief. You go to the counter and the middle aged guy manning the register obviously does not look impressed that you’re in his shop for the third time in the same hour, which is stupid because he should be glad that he has a customer. You put everything on the counter, pulling out some bills from your back pocket.
“You happen to have neosporin?” you ask.
“Do we look like a drug store?” he retorts. You roll your eyes, toss the bills to the cashier, and grab your items without even waiting for the guy to wrap them all up in a paper bag. You jog back to Max’s car.
“Excuse me,” you lean inside the car, opening the compartment to search for a burn cream you left inside there last year. Your eyes land on his keys, stiffening when you notice that Max kept every single gift you gave him. The bead keychain from 2020, the bottle opener keychain from 2021, the clay figure keychain from 2022, and the bracelet from 2023 sway slightly, staring back at you. You shake your head and resume doing your original mission. You find the burn cream and you immediately search for the expiration date. January 2025; it’s still good to use.
You straighten, take hold of Max’s wrist gently, and roll up his long sleeves up to his elbows. You open the water bottle and tug Max’s hand towards you so he won't get water on his car as you pour water on his burn. Once the bottle is nearly empty, you apply the cream on the reddened area of his skin. Then, you use the handkerchief, which you dampen using the leftover water, to dress it.
Max is silent the entire ordeal, watching you work your way meticulously and carefully around his hand. The same meticulousness one can expect from a former firefighter paramedic volunteer.
You step back to inspect your work, but Max’s hand stretches out towards you, grabbing the hem of your jacket.
“Sorry,” he says and yet you see his knuckles slowly turning white, which makes you unsure if he truly is apologetic or not. “Just…yeah, sorry. Can you stay for a while please?”
“Have to leave soon,” you say. “El Paso’s still hours away. I have to be there by morning.”
He nods, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down, “Okay.”
“Thirty minutes, Max,” you decide. “Thirty minutes.”
You pull out your phone from your pocket to check the time and see the multiple notification bars. You type the password and direct to the message app to see the flurry of messages Max sent earlier. You have not noticed them.
max: i heard you came
max: where are you
max: please
max: can you give me ten minutes
max: just
max: please
max: wait for me
max: i’m not angry anymore
max: im begging you
max: or five minutes [name] im okay with just five
max: or even less
max: i just need to see you
“Who told you I was here?” you question, brows knitting together. There are currently two names in your head. They both start with the letter L and they both work at Williams.
“Leo called me and told me you were here.”
“Of course he did,” you roll your eyes. Logan will never dare betray you like this. You made Leo promise not to tell Max where you were in El Paso and the bitch told him where you were the moment you stepped out of El Paso. He didn't break his promise technically, but it's still a very bitch move for him to pull. You're going to have a lengthy conversation with him later.
“So you’ve been in El Paso?” he asks.
You nod.
“My grandparents’ place.”
He nods.
“Sorry about Julio, by the way.”
You sigh. God, you want to cry.
It's truly unfair how God decided to take away Julio [Last Name]. Death should happen to assholes and shitty people. To people who abuse their children every day. To people who waste years of their lifespan on nicotine and alcohol. To people who kill people. Death shouldn't happen to heroes, who risk every single day of their lives to save other people. Death shouldn't happen to Julio [Last Name], a firefighter who died saving a kid in a burning building. At least, not this early. Not until you fulfilled his dream for him.
(His last words: I don't regret doing what I did. I have kids, too. I want someone to save them the same way I did that kid if they ever get stuck in a situation like this.)
“Did Leo tell you that, too?” you hope that he didn't notice that your voice slightly wobbled.
“No,” Max shakes his head. “We—Logan and I came to Vista Del Pueblo in December. Your neighbor told us that…”
He doesn't need to finish his sentence for you to know what he’s trying to say.
You nod, “So that's why there was an article that day…”
You remember Damiano showing you the news article in his phone—AN UNLIKELY FRIENDSHIP: MAX VERSTAPPEN OF RED BULL RACING AND LOGAN SARGEANT OF WILLIAMS RACING SPOTTED DRIVING AROUND AUSTIN. You shrugged it off at that time.
“How are you?”
You turn to Max, raising a brow at his question.
“How am I?” you echo, sounding a little bewildered.
You see, Max has never asked this question. You're used to “Are you okay?” but not this. Not this question. You can easily lie to an are-you-okay. You can say yes even if you’re not, and you won't give yourself away because you only uttered one word. But with how-are-you, it’s different. It's not a question that is not answerable by yes or no. You actually have to explain how you feel. That's why Papa Julio only asked, “How are you, mija?” rather than “Are you okay, mija?” Papa Julio wants to know how your day went even if you're okay or not.
Yeah. You're definitely going to cry at this rate.
“How have you been after Julio?”
“You really wanna know?”
“I wanted to be there for you at that time,” Max confesses. “When I learned that Julio was gone, I wanted to go to you. But Leo stopped me. He said I was not what you needed at that time and I agree. I was too angry at you for leaving me. I’m glad he didn't tell me where you are, despite how painful it was. I was selfish and immature that I cared about my grief and forgot to consider yours. I reflected on my actions a lot. I am not sure how different I am now from that version of me but I think I changed a bit. So yes, [Name], I want to know, because I want to know how you felt and help you in any way I can.”
You stand there, stunned at what Max has said. And perhaps it was his sincerity or the way his determined blue eyes stare into your soul that caused the sixth domino to tip. You break into tears, a raw cry escaping your mouth. You are so fucking tired of carrying everything on your shoulders.
Max is quick to engulf you in a hug and you don't hesitate to pull him into you, pressing your face against his shoulders as you let everything out. You claw his back as if you're trying to mold himself into you. Your nose turns red, snot drips out of your nose. You sob too loud and too heavily that you can hardly draw a breath. You don't cry pretty and this is the first time you allowed yourself to cry with another person bearing witness to your fragility.
When you calmed down, you found yourself sitting beside Max, shoulder to shoulder, in the backseat of his car, playing with the drawstrings of your jacket.
“Sorry.”
“Don't be.”
“Sorry, I was just so tired,” you tip your head upwards. You can feel Max’s eyes on you. “Things have been hard since Papa died.”
“Do you want to talk? I’ll listen.”
You chuckle humorlessly.
Jesus, what did Leo feed this guy?
It feels like the roles are reversed now.
“Everybody's been takin’ it pretty hard so I'm trynna to be strong for them, you know? But I’m not that strong,” you begin. “I’m just as lost as everyone else and it's hard pretendin’ like I’m not. I’m not really sure what will happen with my life now so I wander around and do car repairs for a few folks in El Paso.”
“What happened to your dream? The job?”
“Well, it's gone,” you say, making Max’s eyes widen. “Not my time yet, I suppose. Or rather, I’m never supposed to have time. I guess I’m just not meant to be an engineer.”
“No,” Max turns to you, clasping your hands in desperation. “No, no, no. You always wanted to become an engineer. You can't just—I’ll think of something. I’ll ask Christian. I’ll ask the other teams. Renault isn't in Formula One right now but I can—”
“Max,” you smile sadly. “Let it go.”
“But—”
“Do you know what my Papa’s dream was?” you interrupt. “It’s to be a Formula One racer.”
You smile, remembering all the times you’ve seen your father watch the races on the television since you were younger. He’d wake up even in the ass crack of dawn just to watch them live. He’d be so tired after a 24-hour shift at the fire station but he’d refuse to even catch a wink of sleep until the Grand Prix broadcast is done. He always received a beating from your Mama because of it.
“He saw Senna in the newspaper and decided that he wanted to be like him, too. Sadly, Papa never vibed with a steering wheel so there was no future in that industry. He's always so disappointed in himself, sayin’ he can do the most unhinge shit at work but can't even drive a car. When Damiano and I turned five, he brought us karting. I could tell he was disappointed that Damiano didn't share his love for racing and I hated seein’ him sad so I learned to love karting. He signed me up and I did my best to win. I think I was good. Good enough to make him proud of me. Papa looked so happy when I won my first trophy. He cleaned it every week.”
You smile fondly at the memory.
“Then, shit happened and I have to stop. Papa looked even more disappointed than me that I had to stop. It hurts. Disappointment from your parents, I mean, even if I know that it's somethin’ beyond my control. I figured that if I can't be a racer, I’ll work in a pit stop. That's close enough. When I told him that I got accepted into USC and how I wanted to be an engineer, it was the proudest I have ever seen him since I won my trophy. I was livin’ his dream. I applied for Red Bull and Renault because those are Papa’s favorite teams and the rest is history.”
You pause.
“He’s never got to see me become an engineer,” you choke out, wiping the stray tear that fell from your eye with the back of your hand. “It was his dream. He always had his dreams broken and I was gonna reach his dreams for him but he’s gone before I can do so. Now, I’m so lost because I realized that I was shapin’ myself to become an extension of Papa and now that he's gone, I am an extension of no one. I was reaching for dreams that I don't own. I’m so tired and I’m so lost, Max.”
Max stares at you sadly.
“I should have talked to Christian sooner. Fuck, I hate myself for not talking to Christian. Fuck, why was I so selfish?” he presses the ball of his palms against his eyes in frustration. You chuckle, shaking your head.
“That’s okay,” you say. “I’ll find my way.”
You look at the scenery outside of the window. Night has fallen. You should have left for El Paso by now.
“I need to go,” you say, heart heavy.
“So soon?”
Max is panicking again.
“Jesus, Champ, calm down,” you pat his shoulders.
“Will I see you again?” Desperation laces his question.
“Dunno really,” you shrug.
“Can you wait for me?”
Your brows furrow.
“I’ll retire by 2028. No, that's still long. 2027. Ah no—2026? Can you wait for me? I—” Max’s hand trembles. “I love you. I love you, [Name]. I—I love you even before Kelly. I can’t. I can't lose you.”
The world stops.
“I am stupid, I am selfish, and I think I’m asking too much. If you can just wait for me, I’ll—I can even retire next year if you think it's too long—”
“Hold up right there, Champ,” you stop him. “You're not retirin’ early.”
“If you want me to, I will.”
You sigh in exasperation.
“Max,” your voice is low. “That’s your career. I’m not gonna—Jesus, Max don’t retire, okay? Not even for me. Retire only when you want to.”
This man is just…
You don't know if you want to choke him or kiss him.
“I want you to have me, [Name]. I… I want to be with you, to love you, and if retiring is the only way I can do that then I will,” he says. “I love you.”
You purse your lips.
“I love you, too, Max,” you confess and now, your chest feels lighter now that you've said it out loud. “But not now, I can't love you like this. I’m too… I can't pursue a relationship with you right now. Not when…”
“It's not our time,” Max nods. “I understand.”
He really did change.
“I want to find my way through life first," you tell him.
Max smiles and he pulls you again in a hug. He has tears in his eyes again and he sniffles, chuckling at himself for crying again. He pulls away from the hug slowly and hands you your keys.
“See you around?"
“See you around.”
You exit the car and you notice that your heart feels lighter now compared to the time you left Monaco even though you are doing the same exact thing—leaving Max to go home.
At the end of 2023, you grace the paddock with your presence—your signature YSL heels is back on the tracks. You wear pants now, instead of the corporate pencil skirts, matched with a Prema Racing polo shirt. The label at the back indicates: AERODYNAMIC ENGINEER. By the end of 2024, you are promoted to the strategy team. By 2025, you become a race engineer of an up-and-coming racing superstar and you kept the job position until now.
The world didn't end just because your Dad died. It took you a while to realize that your Papa didn't own your dreams. It was always yours to begin with. He just played a part in inspiring them.
Max Verstappen became the 2024, 2025, 2026, 2027, and 2028 WDC, marking history as an eight-time consecutive champion. He retired after the 2028 season and disappeared from the face of the Earth. He had stopped going home to his penthouse in Monaco, had put his private jet on sale, and had cut ties to his father, Jos, who was very disappointed that his son had retired too early in the sport. Max retired willingly—he had achieved more awards than most of his seniors and it's time to give room to the younger ones. Rumors say that he had established a racing program somewhere in Belgium. Charles Leclerc, Max's friend, refuses to update the media regarding Max's whereabouts and only says: "He's happy. Don't worry."
Years later, a thirteen-almost-fourteen year-old girl named Emiliana Julia Verstappen, racing under the American flag, become the youngest driver in history to join the ranks of the F1 academy and later, she becomes the youngest driver to ever drive a Formula One car, racing for Scuderia Ferrari as second driver, at only seventeen and a hundred and fifty days old, overthrowing Max Emilian Verstappen, retired eight-time F1 WDC, whom the world has not seen since his retirement, from the list.
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cinhomi · 11 months ago
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𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊
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𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: boyfriend's best friend Hwang Hyunjin x fem reader
𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: you should've left your boyfriend sooner considering the man of your dreams, his best friend, has always been there for you... but the faithful event you were hoping for finally occurs and you find yourself at his house, in his arms, in his bed.
𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: angst?, smut, fluff, aquaintances to lovers
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: cheating (but not really, you'll see), reader is in a toxic relationship, explicit descriptions of sexual acts, unprotected sex (it's sexy but use protection babes), fingering, pretty vanilla.
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6.4K
I have a thing for sex while it rains, it seems... and like this I post something after months. I'll work this storyline in the future too for Hyunjin, but for now, enjoy!
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It's strange how sometimes we believe to be in the right place to later find out we were living in a lie, a product of our fervid imagination, just to not accept reality and the fact that life, or even our past self, played a good and structured not-so-funny prank on us.
These lies we tell ourselves most of the time are a response to our awful experiences, but they can become harmful in numerous types of ways, and we should learn that instead of letting us be tempted by sweet beliefs. When we find ourselves facing reality it's hard to accept it, it's ugly, but ugly things are part of life and we should try and accept them nonetheless, they may reveal themselves as lessons or the best things that happened to us, with various meanings to that.
What pisses people off the most is the "waste of time". And that's how you feel too, like the rest of humankind, angry because you wasted time. You would very gladly prefer to be in the denial stage of the whole thing but it's so evident that you can't even pretend to be doubtful, to question what you saw, to give him a chance to explain himself.
The car is still cold even if you already reached the destination that popped in your mind right after what happened, salty tears adorning your eyes as they cross your freezing cheeks, collecting under your chin, falling on your scarf. The same damn scarf he gifted you after your first two weeks of dating, the one you didn't even like at all, the color you hated, a dull pattern over it… the urge to pull down the car window and throw it outside in the middle of the parking lot soon becomes reality. Wind starts to rise a bit, and you see it dance on the wet concrete for a while before a car passes over it and plasters it on the ground.
Ironic, right? You feel a bit bad after the impulsive gesture, but he didn't hesitate to make you feel the same, so, "screw it".
You shouldn't even be here. You should go to your own best friend, sitting on her way too low couch with its broken springs and cry your eyes out as she yells at you her usual "I told you so!" and "You're an idiot, I knew it from the start!" even if what you really need is comfort, and not to be scolded like a twelve years old while she offers you chocolates and tissues like in some chiché romcom.
That's why Hyunjin's place is just few meters and five floors away from you now. You're actually hesitant to get out the car but when you see your boyfriend's text appear on your screen, asking where are you, it's suddenly not so difficult to take your things and rush to take the elevator, and when you send Hyunjin a message telling him you're in front of his apartment he's quick to open the door. He doesn't say a thing, he doesn't even dare to, he already knows.
He delicately takes your hand in his and guides you inside with a saddened smile, his eyes soft as they watch you attentively trying to search for your tears. God, he wants to kiss them all away, he never wants to see you like this ever again, but he thinks it's probably not the last time… is it? Either way, he'll do anything he can to make the redness of your eyes disappear.
"Go sit on the couch petal, relax for me, hm?" he says in a hushed tone to not provoke your impending outburst. When you're finally hugged by his cushions you feel his presence behind you, his hands going on your shoulders to free you from your heavy coat and bag that he places on his forearm. When he reaches for your scarf his fingers are suddenly met with the cold skin of your neck and a startled "oh!" escapes from him because of the unexpected touch, making you giggle. If only you knew how his heart starts beating faster whenever he hears you like this…
"Where is your scarf? You always wear it, were you in such a rush to leave it at your place?" he's now lowered near your face, breath tickling your cheek as he adjusts your jumper on your shoulders ー the stained one you only wear at home, you didn't even change, how embarrassing. He touches you like frail porcelain and little bumps start to rise on your skin where traces of his touch linger, you wish his fingerprints could bruise your skin.
"I threw it in the parking lot…" you explain, looking at him trying to not make your lips touch while doing so.
A laugh that comes from his chest slowly builds up as he lifts himself and reluctantly distances from your face to go place your belongings on the hanger at the entrance. If only he knew how your heart twists in excitement whenever you hear him like this…
Hyunjin doesn't come back to you immediately. He always makes sure you have enough time to think by yourself first, to gather your words, to decide if you want to cry or yell, and then he sits beside you and goes along with anything you've come up with. It's always been like this until today, every time you came to his place after something happened between you and his best friend, every time he had to gather your broken pieces and try to put you together again. He doesn't know he's always done that beautifully though, making a breathtaking mosaic out of you, making you so splendid and wonderful anyone could say he's your creator.
You hear a distant rustling in the kitchen, the clicking of the bottles in the fridge as he closes it with a thud, two glasses colliding it seems, and his slippers sliding on the floor, approaching you.
"You're lucky petal, I have your favorite today." he proceeds to place the glasses on the way too elegant coffee table and pour the drink with all the calmness in the world. Time with Hyunjin stops. You think that every second spent with him is never wasted.
"I like this clip, it compliments your hair color." he says suddenly, snapping you out of your trance. How could he notice such a thing?
"Really? It's the first time I wear it…" you still mumble a bit, too shaken to let your voice take its natural timbre. Hyunjin laughs again, handing you the drink and carefully sitting so as to not spill everything on his expensive carpet. His body is completely facing yours, knee against knee.
"It's not true!" Hyunjin takes a sip and giggles at your confused expression.
"You had it the first time we met, too. It was perfect with your dress and necklace. Do you really not remember? You looked beautiful…"
What Hyunjin refers to is a random saturday evening of autumn. What day it was, what you were wearing, what you did before meeting in front of the restaurant, you can't remember… but what you can vividly recall is the stinging sensation of the first cold breeze of the season on your cheeks, how crunchy multicolored leaves swirled on the sidewalk, and the city lights beginning to be turned on a bit earlier than usual. Now that you think about it, it was around this period. You remember what perfume you wore, paying attention to what type of impression you wanted to give to your boyfriend's group of friends that you were about to meet for the first time, and you even remember what mascara you decided to use.
But what remained tattooed on your bones the most are the first ten seconds of Hwang Hyunjin taking possess of your vision, because you felt incredibly sick.
If you close your eyes and concentrate you can almost feel the same emotions, when your stomach swirled like it was a washing machine, your head light, and your legs almost giving in making you trip while standing still.
You felt incredibly guilty, disgusted with yourself, disappointed, a monster. Why the hell your first thought was "he's my soulmate" and not something along the lines of "nice, my boyfriend's best friend" you still don't know. Call it destiny, call it sixth sense, you immediately tried to suppress it all.
It didn't help that Hyunjin's slender fingers delicately took your hand to kiss your knuckles with his oh, oh so beautiful lips like an ambassador of chivalry itself, his siren eyes looking up at you sweetly but confidently, making you blush like crazy ー you later blamed your flustered expression to the restaurant's excessive heating.
On top of that, your boyfriend decided to sit at your side leaving Hyunjin in front of you, so you had his ridiculously handsome face in sight for the whole night as you ate your stupid california rolls and tried to elegantly slurp your noodles ー for as much as something like that is even possible.
You talked, a lot, even if you felt your face heat up at every strangely seductive giggling sound he made together with the little bumps his shoes would land on your naked ankles, toying with your heels from time to time. You had so much in common, and after that you only felt complete when he was near you.
Your boyfriend did catch on with the new dynamic though, so unfortunately considering how jealous and a bit possessive he is, you and Hyunjin didn't see each other as often as you expected after that, but you really didn't grasp that it was because he wanted you apart at first, just a series of unfortunate coincidences.
Hyunjin parted from you with a tight hug, lingering his hands on the smaller of your back, adjusting your shawl over your coat and twirling a strand of your hair behind your ear, the moment never fully leaving your memory. He was… perfect, really just perfect, and you couldn't help but feel nauseous when you got in the car with your boyfriend to let him accompany you to your apartment, the thought of another man being more suited for you making you feel like you were cheating. You only felt relieved when you talked about all his friends during the ride and he revealed that Hyunjin is "a bit of a player, y'know, he flirts with everyone and he has those french manners, but he's always been like this." so you thought that maybe your feelings would slowly fade… but they always, always rested down the bottom of your heart, even if you pushed them away forcefully, almost violently.
No one knows you two meet up from time to time now, because one time you found yourself crying in a corner on his shouler. No one knows that you always seem happy and carefree only because you talk with Hyunjin, because he comforts you when you need it without complaining. Not that it needs to be a secret, but you both are well aware that it may result suspicious to meet with your boyfriend's best friend late at night, best friend's girlfriend from his side.
And the fact that you two always seem to attract each other like magnets, so close, with instant connection, it doesn't let thoughts stray further from the idea of something tender existing between the two of you, everyone can see it.
It's just that it's prohibited. Or, to say it better, you were too caught in your lies to even contemplate the idea of leaving your boyfriend and Hyunjin simply didn't want to betray his "friend". But when you started to message him asking for advice, when you later had long calls together, when you crumbled in his arms crying almost weekly, he wasn't so sure about having a best friend anymore.
"I… you really think I was beautiful?"
Your question comes from the heart. The mixture of the memories of that night and his proximity makes heat rise on your face, shyness visible from the automatic action of your teeth catching your bottom lip and your gaze straying from his face to linger on the glass in your hands. The bubbles of the drink fizzle on the surface and for a moment or two that's all that can be heard in the room.
"You're always beautiful, y/n. I told you many times." he says cautiously, putting down everything to wrap his hands around your wrist.
"I don't know how he doesn't make you feel like you are, I don't know why he treats you like this but, petal, you're an incredible woman," he lowers his head to look into your eyes as he tries to explain himself further, "smart and strong. He's an asshole and you should stop doing this to yourself."
Does he know? Does he know what your boyfriend did? Probably not. Hyunjin would never hurt you, he would've immediately told you. You want to make sure though, in case everything that involves Hyunjin is a lie too.
"Why are you his friend then? Why do you keep coming to our house and have dinner as we fake not knowing each other like we really do? Why do you keep on hanging out with him? If you really think he's terribleー"
"Because I want to protect you."
His reply is fast, cutting you off. His stare bores into your eyes and drinks in all of your feelings, like he can see them displayed in front of him. A few seconds of silence fill the room and you suddenly gulp down your drink until the last drop, sprinting up from your seat and escaping his intoxicating presence that's almost engulfing you.
Hyunjin doesn't say a thing. He waits, he can sense that something big happened this time and fuck if he's going to kill his "friend" after this. You were never this silent, you usually would storm inside and throw yourself on him… for as much as he dislikes seeing you like this, he's grateful for your presence, for the feel of your body against his, the trust you put into him. He doesn't do all this just to be a rebound, he already knows part of him is yours and vice versa, so he's simply waiting. Everyone considers him being a romantic man, but really, he just believes in destiny. When Hyunjin first saw you every cell in his body started to boil, goosebumps rising down his nape, the world destroyed itself and was reborn before him, it's impossible that it didn't matter at all.. That was the day he realized he didn't know what "love" meant before.
He watches your silhouette get near the big windows that face the road, little droplets of water striking them. The sound of the rain reaches your ears only when you notice the detail, and soon you see how much water is actually coming down from the sky, your scarf already soaked and dirty laying alone between various cars. You take a deep breath, thinking about your next words, a way to tell Hyunjin what happened without sounding pathetic as you concentrate on the mesmerizing foliage outside, reds and oranges and yellows decorating the city landscape.
"He accidentally left his phone at home since he rushed to his office, I don't exactly know why…" you started to explain, hands fidgeting with your rings, heavy breath obstructing your throat, "and I heard a notification so I went to check right?"
Hyunjin slowly gets up and approaches you, his warmth radiating behind you now, hands resting on your shoulders and caressing them as he listens and slowly gets closer and closer until he's hugging you.
"So, petal? What was it about? Did you find porn?" he tries to guess, but when you shake your head as a 'no' a cold chill goes through his back. Oh, oh no…
"It… it was a message, a very sexual one, coming from a saved contact, I don't even remember the name." you pout, looking down almost in shame even if you're not the responsible one. Maybe it's the shame of having a cheater as a partner.
"I opened the chat Hyunie. They've been sexting for months and from what I could grasp they even met few times…" you can feel tears start to form on your waterline again, a deep ache inside your chest rises when you finally say it out loud. One thing was to acknowledge it, another was to tell everything to the man you've secretly been in love with for a year already. What were you doing exactly all this time?
"Am I really not good enough for anyone, Hyunie? She's… she's so different from me… Am I really a disaster as he says? Why would he do that to me? I've always been a good girlfriend, I even ignored all those mean words and his being immature and the shitty sex!! I put aside my needs to make him happy thinking I was the problem!" you turn around to face him and you're met with his serious expression.
You expected to find him at least slightly surprised by your sudden show of emotions, but he's calm, he radiates calmness. Hyunjin sighs and looks in the distance behind you for a second, blinking ever so slowly, his touch traveling up to cup your cheeks and wipe your angry tears with his thumbs.
That's the final stroke, the gesture that makes you sob and bury your face in his chest to hide.
You aren't broken yet, it's almost as if Hyunjin is physically holding you together. He's trying to smooth the new sharp edges that formed around your heart to not let it be isolated, while hugging you he's working hard to let it be still approachable to receive and give love, he's trying with all he has to prevent a horrible plague that's trying to approach you.
You hold his shirt between your hands, tightly, you're afraid you'll ruin it but you can't stop, you need to ground yourself and try to be strong, but it's so hard to not let him sway you around the room, lullying you as he hushes you and lets his fingers comb your messy hair.
"Leave him."
You freeze.
Did he really say that? Hyunjin never said it out loud. He did make you understand his vision about the situation, he did suggest it with hidden phrases, but so explicitly…
"It's time to let him go, don't you think?" he presses his lips on your forehead, continuing to mumble his real feelings, "You don't need someone who mistreats you petal. You deserve better." he closes them in a kiss that leaves a mark on your soul, making you gasp.
"Hyunjin?" it takes a lot of strength to look up at him. His eyes seem less gentle, brows forming a frown that's not his usual playful one, a bit scary even. The mole under his eye is contracted and his mouth is curved in disgust, just enough for you to understand he's furious.
"Why don’t we put an end to this farce? He didn't even deserve you in the first place, you don't love him, stop doing this to yourself y/n. There's someone who's the right one, for sure…" his tone is desperate, but you want him to say it clearly. You can't help it, if it's to be sure or to satisfy a need you've been having for a while you don't know, but you want him to say it loud and clear.
You know that if he says it now everything will change and it'll be scary as fuck, but if that's a premise for a better life… maybe it's not as scary as you think, it's Hyunjin after all, the man who's looking at you in adoration.
"And what man could possibly want me at this point?" your voice is shaky and uncertain as you tease the confession out of him.
Hyunjin looks away and smiles, a bit frustrated. He wipes another tear away from your cheek and then places his hands on your waist.
"Me?" he fakes the question, smiling softly; "Be mine y/n."
Breath gets caught in your throat as he finally says it. It's wrong that you waited for it, it's wrong that your first instinct is to say yes without thinking about it.
"Hyunjin Iー"
"Ooh don't say you don't reciprocate, petal. I know you too well." he interrupts you, his hold a little tighter. Hyunjin tilts his head to the side, few strands of black raven hair following the motion and slightly covering his eyes. He's beautiful now, even more than in any other moment you've ever been with him. Hyunjin is the most beautiful man in the world and he wants you.
Your phone starts ringing. It's a strange moment to realize your ringtone is kind of cringe, cutting the tension weirdly… but you can't laugh, not right now. Both you and Hyunjin know who it is.
He's right. You should put an end to all this and start to think for yourself, about what you really want, need. This is not wrong. To love yourself isn't wrong, and Hyunjin makes you feel like the person you want to be.
"Do you want to pick up?" Hyunjin takes his hand under your chin again and directs it up to make your eyes meet his, gaze frenetic as he tries to not look at your tempting lips. Everything will depend on what you decide now. And you think quickly, under pressure, and you don't know if it's a good idea or not but you shake your head and hold him tighter, hiding again.
"Y/n, please look at me…"
The phone eventually stops ringing and silence overwhelms you when you can hear his fast heartbeat right against your ear. And it's because of you, it's for you, your heart starts to adapt to his and you almost feel pain in your chest. It's too much, too much…
Ah, that's it.
You get on your tiptoes to pull him down by his collar and make your lips crash together.
Hyunjin drags you towards him as if you kissed thousands of times before, immediately, tongue slipping into your mouth as you grant him access, making it run along yours. You hold his shoulders trying to search for your lost balance and he's quick to walk you towards his bedroom, he isn't even slightly hesitant.
The desperate sighs you two let out add into the sound of your first kiss; it's a relief, something you didn't imagine to need so badly. Hyunjin pushes you further into the room until your legs meet the mattress and you fall on it guided by him, a knee starting to press beside you as he cradles on the bed on top of you. He can't stop kissing you.
Hyunjin clumsily reaches the lamp on the nightstand to turn it on and oh, oh if this is even better than any fantasy he's ever had… seeing you panting with that flustered expression, your legs already crossing beneath him, jumper half lifted up, your hair all disheveled since you quickly reached for your clip and threw it somewhere in the room. You just look breathtaking in his eyes, even more than any other moment he's ever thought about it. He has to let you know. You didn't think he'd turn on the light but maybe you can put aside your shyness for once if it means having this type of gaze reserved to you.
Your hands try to reach his shirt to pull him out of his trance and he resumes his kissing, hands flying on your sides as they slowly, painfully slowly slide down until he's hooking your pants. Hyunjin lowers down to press chaste kisses on the little part of your cleavage that is exposed, going down to your stomach, then your belly, until he darts his tongue out to lick a stripe just above your groin, leaving a longer kiss there while he proceeds to undress you.
The way you feel embarrassed when you remember you're wearing plain, white cotton panties… but it's honestly sending him haywire. The fact that you didn't expect to end up like this, a confirmation that you didn't plan anything to happen, it's making Hyunjin even harder in his confines. You're so wet your juices dampened the fabric, making it almost transparent, and he sighs at the faint outline of your cunt now puffy and pulsing… and he still has to touch you properly.
Hyunjin is honestly the same. You can't see it but waves of excitement run over him so violently he physically trembles and his legs give in from time to time.
“I'm gonna fuck you so good you won't dare to come back to him…” it's whisperes, almost as if he's accidentally thinking out loud but it makes you clench. Hyunjin's fingers start to tease you on top of the fabric, seeing the wet patch getting larger and larger. You can't believe this part of him exists… how many things do you still have to learn about him?
Hyunjin keeps on touching you there but this time he starts flicking, snapping his fingers where you're most sensitive, the tingles that start to make you jolt are strong and they make your breath sharp.
“H-Hyunjin…” your stuttering voice slightly higher as you call for him, he rolls his eyes back.
“Hyunjin please…” you can't help but pant, wrapping your hand around his forearm to try and make him slow down. Is this what those stupid magazines talked about? That sex feels better when you do it with someone you love? So fucking true.
Hyunjin feels on cloud nine. He starts paying attention on your neck tenderly but still with open-mouthed kisses as his fingers subtly slide your panties to the side. “Yeah petal, let me hear you, let me…” his words get lost as he concentrates. Ah, it's uncomfy for him. Hyunjin lifts your legs and carelessly slides your underwear off with a hiss, his eyes closing like they've been blinded by the vision of the Virgin Mary for a second, then maniacally staring at your bare cunt, digits caressing your wet folds mere seconds before plunging into your entrance.
You can only let out a choked moan and push your head back onto his soft cushions, that smells just like him. You're completely surrounded by his presence when his scent is all around you, his fingers move smoothly to work you open and his mouth is now latched around your nipple, his forehead pushing your jumper further up. When the hell did he…
“Is it good?” his voice displaying signs of fatigue, urgency and need buried deep inside him. You know his fingers are long but God if they can reach otherworldly places. It's not the in-and-out motion but the brushing of your g-spot that makes your legs close around his sides and poke his ribcage with your knees; he doesn't mind, your tits keep him occupied enough to make him mindlessly keep going. Hyunjin decides that prefers your chest covered in love marks over any art piece he's ever seen these past years, so nothing can disturb his work in progress. Maybe the work itself.
“‘S good Hyunie, Hyun…” it's difficult to breathe, it's difficult to think straight as the bumps of his fingers touch your insides so precisely, as if you've always done this and he already knew your body by memory.
“Did his fingers ever make you feel like this? Hm?”
The question makes you sigh along with a moan. You shake your head.
“Did he ever kiss you like I do?” and Hyunjin kisses you again as the movement of his fingers fastens. His teeth catch your bottom lip and his tongue slides against yours before he sucks it, drool making it shine where you two meet; passionate and euphoric, it feels like experimenting fireworks. You follow his lips when he detaches, but he just smiles and starts pressing his thumb on your bare clit. “Tell me, petal.”
“N-no…”
Hyunjin feels it, the way you start clenching around him, hard. He almost can't move anymore. So he whispers, just above the squelching of his palm spreading your wetness.
“Wanna go to Heaven with me, y/n?”
How, how can you say no? You need Hyunjin, even more than oxygen right now, he already has you completely. Your hands hurry on the button somehow miraculously keeping his pants together, and you reach his zip and pull the fly, that struggles to slide down ー he's too full.
“Wanna try how a real man makes you feel?”
You nod almost too eagerly and he chuckles within a whiffle. Hyunjin deprives you of his fingers despite your whines of protest and spreads your juices all over his face, tongue swirling on his hand. A low groan comes out from him, his touch moving to your hips where he squeezes, plush skin bending under his grip. It's all in contrast with the look in his eyes as he stares at your face, your reactions, as if you were the most adorable thing he's ever seen.
You're so distracted that when you feel something poke your inner thigh you gasp, and can only stare… his cock springs free from his confines altogether, long, slim and leaking, underside vein pulsating under the pads of his fingers as he pumps himself few times, precum dripping on your groin. Hyunjin's eyebrows are knitted together as he grinds between your legs, his still sticky hand moving your lower body closer so that he lifts you back up to wrap his arms around you, hugging you ever so gently.
His full lips kiss your cleavage and he curses under his breath because of his choice to not take all your clothes off but there's not much time anymore. You close your fists on his shirt, the lines of the fabric changing their shape under your hold while you wait for him, subtly writhing impatiently.
“Hyun please hurry…” not once in your life you've been this desperate for a man to fuck you. It's not because of the wait, not because you're horny, it's just that it's Hyunjin.
“Say it.” his eyes are darker, but they shine with the yellow-ish light in the room. He clears your forehead by adjusting your hair away.
You know what he's doing and it's nothing different from what you did before, in the living room, so you're more than willing to satisfy his request. You try to regain a bit of composure and steady your breath before speaking up, his head twitching together with every movement of yours.
"I want you, Hyunjin. I want you, please.”
A big bright smile spreads on his face as his head drops low, in disbelief. Hyunjin didn't imagine those words would have such a strong effect on him but here he is, blushing and trying to hold back a giggle. When he looks back at you he's serious again, eyes piercing into yours.
“I'm going in, hm? I wanna hear you scream my name through it all. Is that clear petal?”
What you'd give to hear him call you petal until the end of time, he says it and it's like dripping honey, he says it and you melt. The warm pool of pleasure in your belly tightens again as you say a shaky “yes”. You're his delicate, fragile petal.
His tip rests just before your entrance for a second while he takes a deep breath, breaching you gently. It's not a big stretch but his veins are already making your eyelids flutter and your lips part. Inch by inch, Hyunjin makes sure you feel his cock going deep, concern showing on your features as he doesn't come to an halt. He does, eventually, but the time he took to do it seemed eternal. “Oh my- Hyunie-”
“Bet my dick feels better than his,” he smirks between the kisses he's leaving under your jawline, “I bet mine's longer too.”
His comments only add fuel to the fire. He's bigger, he's better, the curve of his cock lands exactly on the spot that makes you black out. As you remember that you're technically still in a relationship your phone rings again. It's a distant sound, it's in another room, covered by yours and Hyunjin's sighs and moans, but he hears it too. Hyunjin stops every movement, hips against yours as he's fully inside you. He lifts himself up just enough to check on you. You look at him too.
You don't exchange any word, there's no need to, because you both arch your lips upwards and meet mid-air for another kiss, tender but messy as he moves backwards to get a starting point to his thrusts. The ringtone eventually dies making room to the faint dripping of the rain outside.
You feel warm, squeezing his cock just right and he's sure he will never let you go, never let you change your mind.
“Pussy ‘s so tight petal, was made for me, ‘m sure,” and he starts moving with consistency, picking up a pleasant rhythm, “you're so fucking perfect.”
His necklace is cold against your skin as he keeps on holding you flush against him, as well as your rings leaving icy lines on his back when your hands slip under his shirt and hold onto his shoulder blades. Hyunjin throbs inside you, drawing loud moans out of you that someone will for sure complain about. He thrusts harder, faster, every second that passes and you can only call for his name, yours being whispered by him against your skin making you shiver.
“Waited so long, so fucking long-” a guttural sound interrupting him, “since that time at the club, wanted to make you mine.” he mumbles, words hardly making sense but you decipher them anyway and when you realize what he's talking about the confused memories of it flood your mind. You, swaying your hips in front of him, grinding your ass on his crotch following the music; Hyunjin's hands right under your breasts guiding you together with him, his breath fanning on your neck, drying your tears completely as those three drinks made your head light enough to not care about any problem you complained about minutes before. It was just you and Hyunjin, all this would've happened sooner if a series of coincidences didn't happen.
“You would've let me take you in the bathroom, isn't that right?” Hyunjin asks, not losing concentration even for a second. “I wanted to bring you here, and fuck the sadness away. Every time, y/n, I wanted to tell you to forget him and be with me.”
You feel him stretch his arm between your bodies, and you feel your swollen bud stimulated again, you both whine against each other.
“‘M with you now Hyunie, want only you, ‘m yours babe.”
He's so fast now, the snapping of his hips moving you up and down the mattress… your words affect him on a visceral level.
“I choose you, I'll leave him for you-”
“Fuck!” he's close, so, so close and your walls tightening more and more and more are making him go crazy. Little beads of sweat decorate his forehead, a caramel-like smell coming from him as the crown of his head dampens and some hair stick to his forehead.
His tip keeps abusing your sweet spot, the kiss you share is feverish, your nails dig into his skin and his hold bruises your soft one. Both your bellies contract and before you can process it you're coming, white pois pattern creating over your blinding vision. You say his name out loud, dragging it together with your last moan as the hardest orgasm ever washes over you. Hyunjin pulls out just in time, copious white ropes of cum landing on your stomach like dripping art. Hyunjin loses track of space and time for a few moments as he comes down from his high, then takes you close to him when he lays next to you. Your heavy breath fills every other sound in your ears as you get comfortable hiding in his muscular chest. Your body spasms, all energy left your body already and your chest rises and falls frantically.
Hyunjin caresses your cheek and kisses your hair. It's peaceful. You just had sex with your boyfriend's best friend and it feels peaceful. It starts to feel a bit cold so he grabs the soft sheets near him and covers both of you.
“When will you tell him, petal?”
The question floats in the air for a while. You start playing with his necklace, making it dance between your fingers. He starts to worry a bit, when you don't answer him, but he decides to be patient, like always.
“After we eat something, I'll send him a text.” you seem resolute, and he's convinced. “Can I stay here tonight?”
He's a bit taken aback, his eyes narrowing in surprise: “Wasn't it obvious? You'll stay here from now on anyway.” and he says it so naturally, you think he's thought about this moment a lot… it makes you smile.
Hyunjin rolls to the side briefly, taking some tissues to wipe yours and his stomach since his sticky cum was still there, and kisses the tip of your nose adjusting your jumper back to its original place before sitting on the edge of the bed and taking his phone, after finally freeing himself of his shirt. His back is slender yet defined, long, his spine making a beautiful curve. Your eyes travel from his nape to his glutes, the ones of a dancer. There's a doubt still in the back of your mind, you need to make it disappear.
“Are you… sad, that you can't be friends with him anymore?”
He doesn't even bother looking at you to answer, he keeps scrolling on the delivery app searching for something you may want to eat, the words he's about to say seeming obvious to him.
“We haven't been friends for a while already. I understood he's not the guy I met years ago, he changed, and I don't like to be around him anymore. Don't worry petal, it's not entirely because of you, I already wanted to part from him but you came into our lives so I endured it some more to stay with you… and it was worth it.” one of his hands shifts position behind him and taps the covers to signal for you to hold it. Your fingers interlace and he looks at you over his shoulder, slowly turning around, his body twisting slightly as he leans back again and kisses you sweetly yet still with some need.
Your breath is now steady, you're relaxed and it feels like Heaven, just like he promised.
"Pizza?"
You giggle and he follows.
“I love you y/n. I love you.”
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Text
Honey Girl. Chapter Five.
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Chapter Four. Chapter Six. Series Masterlist. The Playlist.
Chapter Synopsis - Does absence make the heart grow fonder, or does it just make everything ten times more difficult?
Pairing - Dad'sBestFriend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader - soulmate au
Warnings - smut. cursing. alcohol consumption. angst. mention of illness.
Age Rating - 18+
Word Count - 5.7k
Author's Note - it's here!! as always, I can't thank you enough for your love, support and patience with this fic. us writers lead busy lives, and i've been trying my hardest to find the time to write whenever I can, so it means so much that you guys stick with me - even when things take longer than expected. love you all. you're angels. please feel free to spam my inbox with thoughts and suggestions - it always makes my day when you're all so passionate. mwah.
as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3
Masterlist. Inbox.
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The sand is warm beneath your feet, cooling breeze cascading across your skin. The waves caress the shore in repetitive motions, lulling you into calm.
Sunlight beaming down, you shield your eyes and look up, sighing in contentment at the shades of blue that paint the sky.
A shriek and a laugh come from somewhere on your right. You look over and see a couple and their toddler running after each other, sprinting down the beach and into the ocean. The little girl can't stop giggling, tripping over her own feet as she chases her parents. Something tugs at your heart, deep and visceral.
It's been three months since you left home.
It's been three months since you saw Bucky.
He calls every few days, trying to give you the space you need while also keeping in touch. You have to resist the urge to call him every ten minutes. It's an improvement, at least. It was five minutes when you first moved.
He texts you good morning and goodnight everyday without fail, just to let you know he's there. You can't sleep until you get his text. It's like a lullaby, reassuring and soothing. Like a chamomile tea, warming and calming you from the inside out.
You think about him the most at night time. Your days are spent running around preparing for the bakery. Testing, retesting, writing up recipes, measuring out quantities. You want it to be perfect.
The baking is taking your mind off Bucky, for the moment at least. You've thrown yourself into your new role, eager and excited. Stella's ecstatic to have you around. You love that you're still just as close as you were, despite the time apart. Friendships like that are rare.
Lacie calls you most nights. She demands to know what you did that day, who you spoke to, what you made. It's like therapy, sitting and decompressing together over videochat. She's a lifeline, whether she knows it or not.
And of course, the most supportive people in your life - your parents. Your Mom is desperate to come and visit, begging that you let her know when you're less busy so you can show her around. She loves the sunshine just as much as you. A woman after your own heart.
On the nights when the doubt creeps in, unwelcome and dark, you remind yourself how lucky you are. Surrounded by people who adore you, support you, love you unconditionally. And then the night doesn't seem so dark. The light pours through the cracks.
You walk home from the beach, warmed and carried by the knowledge of love.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
"This is ridiculous."
Stella's perched on the edge of your countertop, blush pink macaron in her hand.
"Good ridiculous?"
She scoffs, looking at you incredulously.
"Where did your confidence go? You never doubted yourself in school. Yes, good ridiculous. It shouldn't work, but it does."
Shouldn't work, but it does. Seems to be the story of your life at the moment.
"I need these on the menu."
"You don't think they're a little... pretentious? My best seller is a chocolate chip cookie. A honey and rosewater macaron isn't exactly a childhood favourite."
"Babe. That's the beauty of this. You can put whatever the hell you want out in your bakery. So what if they're unconventional? They're delicious. That's all that matters."
"Okay. Fine."
You relent, thinking about her earlier question. Where did your confidence go? When you graduated culinary school, you never doubted your abilities. Your technique, your flavours, your presentation - you had full faith in all of it. Now, you seem to be second guessing yourself.
You know it's because of your Tethering.
Before, you understood how the world worked. Good, bad, in between. Love, lust, the very clear difference between the two. You watched as other people found their forever person, and acknowledged their new journey.
And then you found Bucky. Or, Bucky found you.
Suddenly, the world you'd lived in before no longer made sense. The people, the places, the relationships, all impacted by the way you feel about your soulmate. Everything, everyone, everywhere, reminds you of Bucky. You're experiencing emotions you've never felt before. It's disorientating, confusing, complex. Your understanding of the world has changed completely.
It takes time to adjust.
No one ever talks about the way your Tethering turns your life upside down.
For some, it's completely positive. They enjoy the uprooting, revel in the change.
For others, it's a huge adaptation. One filled with tears, and confusion, and doubts.
Both are valid. Both are understandable.
You remind yourself of this every day.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
"There's someone in the café that wants to speak to you."
The youngest waitress, Isabel, stands in the kitchen doorway, looking at you hopefully. You set down your piping bag and wash your hands, talking to her over your shoulder.
"Who is it?"
"No idea. Some guy. He's kinda hot. Brown hair, tall, beard."
Your heart skips a beat, breath caught in your lungs. Bucky jokes sometimes about coming to see you, but would he just show up announced? Do you want him to?
You can't feel it in your chest, you realise suddenly. You can't feel the ease, the relief, the knowing. Maybe being apart for so long has weakened your connection. The thought makes you strangely emotional.
You inhale carefully and thank her, before making your way out. It's almost closing time, and there's no one around other than the man stood with his back to you.
He turns around, and you realise quickly that your hope was misplaced. You've never seen this person before. He is handsome, admittedly. But he's not your soulmate.
"Hi."
"Hey. Are you the baker here?"
"I am."
He holds out his hand for you to shake, stepping closer.
"I'm Rafael."
You tell him your name, and he smiles, nodding.
"Forgive me if this is weird, but I had to meet you. To thank you properly, in person."
You don't say anything, so he continues.
"Let me, uh, explain. Sorry, should have started with that. My sister is sick. She's going through treatment currently, and it's been super hard on her. She's had no appetite whatsoever, and she's losing weight rapidly."
He takes a deep breath before continuing.
"A couple of weeks ago, I picked up a load of stuff from this place because my Mom was coming to visit. My sister tried your earl grey and lavender cookie, and ate the entire thing. It was the first time I've seen her eat for weeks. So, I came back and bought basically all of them every day."
You laugh, coming to a realisation. You wondered why those cookies were selling so well all of a sudden.
"I just wanted to say thank you. It might not seem like a big deal, but it's really huge for us. I also wanted to explain why all of those cookies were suddenly going missing at like ten in the morning."
You gesture at him to sit, the both of you taking a seat at one of the tables nearby.
You talk for almost an hour, listening intently to Rafael as he tells you about his family. He moved to California to be with his sister Maria when she got sick, no one else around to care for her. He asks about yours, and you tell him about your parents and their constant encouragement. He's also interested in how you got into baking, so you tell him all about culinary school, and the dreams your Grandma gave you when you were a kid.
"You're really talented, you know."
"I bet you say that to all of the bakers around here. But thank you."
His fingers brush yours where they're resting on the table, making you shiver.
"I'll make Maria her own box, if you like. I'll leave them behind the counter, just tell Isabel who you are."
"You'd do that for her?"
"Of course," you smile. "The idea that I'm helping someone with my silly little creations makes me really happy. We can work out a schedule, and I'll make sure I bake Maria some extras when I do my usual batch."
"You're incredible. Seriously. Thank you."
He squeezes your hand and you squeeze back. The two of you are sat in the café as the sun sets, orange glow illuminating the room. You didn't expect to make a friend today. You're glad you have.
"Well, I should probably go and clean up the kitchen. You know where to find me, if you need anything. It was lovely to meet you, Rafael."
He rises when you do, smiling at you earnestly.
"You too. Nice to finally put a face to the cookie, so to speak."
You chuckle and show him out of the door, waving as he walks down the street. Suddenly, he turns around, striding back towards you.
"I'm so sorry if this is forward, and please feel free to say no, but... are you single? If you are, I'd love to ask you to dinner sometime."
The answer to that question is much more complicated than Rafael could ever imagine. So instead, you say,
"I'm not. I'm Tethered, actually."
His brows raise in surprise, but he's smiling.
"You are?"
"Yeah, I am. He doesn't live here, though. He lives back home, where my parents are."
"You guys are married?"
"No! Not yet. It's, uh... a complex... situation."
"Ah," he says, gentle, knowing look on his face. "I thought Tetherings weren't meant to be complex. Isn't that the whole point? That they're easy?"
You laugh, but it's not malicious. You're thinking about how sweetly naive he is, how he's got a huge storm coming his way one day.
"He's my Dad's best friend."
You're not sure why you're admitting this to a man you met an hour and a half ago, but you are. It's almost a relief, to get it off your chest again - to tell someone who's completely neutral, who doesn't know either of you.
"Woah."
"Yeah."
"That... is complicated."
"Yeah," you chuckle. "Understatement of the century."
Rafael leans against the wall, watching you intently. He's curious.
"How did your parents react?"
"They don't know yet."
His eyebrows raise almost comically high.
"Wait, what? How did you hide that? I thought it was supposed to be impossible to hide that you're Tethered. Although, I guess I had no idea, seeing as I asked you out."
"We wanted to figure it out for ourselves first, before telling anyone. And then I moved out here, so we're doing long distance. Like I said, complex."
"Understatement of the century," he laughs.
You look at each other for a moment, before he smiles.
"I'm sorry I asked you out. I wouldn't have, if I'd known."
"Please, don't apologise. I admire your... courage?" you grin. "And I appreciate you coming to see me today. I have like two friends here in Cali, so it's nice to feel like I've made another."
He smiles again, wider this time. Someone's going to be lucky to be Tethered to him one day, you think.
"I know it might surprise you, given my good looks and... courage," he chuckles, "but I don't have many friends out here either. I've been so focused on Maria, I haven't had time to socialise."
"The Universe works in funny ways, huh?"
"Sure does."
You wander back through the door, ready to close up for good this time.
"I'll see you tomorrow, for the cookies. And I'd love to meet Maria one day, if she's up for it."
"I'm sure she'd love to meet you. I'll bring her by."
"Thanks, Rafael."
"Of course. Thank you."
"Of course."
That night, when your Mom calls, you get to tell her you've made a new friend. That makes the both of you very happy.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
You're testing out a recipe in the kitchen of your new apartment when your phone rings.
"Hey, Dad."
"Hey, kiddo. You doing okay?"
"Yeah, I am, actually. I'm settling in."
"Good, I'm glad. I don't wanna keep you on the phone for too long, but I wanted to ask you something."
"Go ahead, Dad. Anything."
"How would you feel about surprising your Mom for her birthday?"
"What kind of surprise?"
"I know you haven't been gone all that long, and I know it's kind of last minute, but, I was thinking you could come back to... be her gift? She really misses you, you know."
"I miss her too," you say softly, trying to keep your voice even. "I'll talk to Stella, see if we can figure something out. I'd really love to see you guys."
"We'd really love to see you too, sweetheart."
"I'll call you back later, when I've organised everything. Love you, Dad. See you soon, hopefully."
"Love you, kiddo. Proud of you, you know."
"I know," you smile. "I know."
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
The journey always seems shorter when you know you're going home.
You make it back in record time, salty ocean breeze whipping through your hair as you cruise along the roads. You take a deep breath and sigh it out, relief filling your lungs. It's good to be back.
You can't let your Mom see you, so you head straight back to your apartment. Your Dad told you they're in the process of renting it out, but they haven't made much progress yet. For now, it's still yours.
You inhale the familiar scent, smiling gently. There's something so particular about the way a place smells when you feel like you belong there. It's like home and comfort and ease all rolled into one.
You unpack a little, folding your clothes and tucking them into the dresser. You told Stella you'd probably stay a few days, wanting to spend as much time with your family as possible. You're rifling through the refrigerator and thinking about a grocery list when there's a knock at your door.
You know who it is.
A feeling of relief washes over your body, tension melting from your shoulders. Your lungs fill easier, your breath falls deeper, everything is a little brighter, a little more colourful.
You open the door to be met with the sight of Bucky Barnes.
He's in work pants and a white t shirt that's stained with grease and oil, heavy boots on his feet. He must have come straight from the Garage.
He looks at you carefully, as if he isn't sure that you're real. You rake your eyes over his form, trying to drink him in. All the pictures you've taken and saved don't do him justice.
He exhales, beaming grin appearing on his face.
"You're here."
You can't help but smile back, his happiness spreading through you.
"I'm here."
Bucky rushes forward and scoops you into his arms, enveloping you completely. He wraps himself around you as he tucks you into his chest, his grip tight and unrelenting. You breathe him in, overwhelmed with emotion and sensation. You didn't realise how much you needed this. Three months is too long.
"What are you doing here?" he asks, slight shake in his voice. He's holding off tears. So are you.
"My Dad wanted me to surprise my Mom for her birthday. It's all a secret."
He smiles, before leaning down to capture your lips in a knee buckling kiss. A kiss that says I missed you. A kiss that says I need you. A kiss that says please don't leave me again.
"How did you know?" you whisper when you pull away for air.
"I felt it. I think I knew the moment you arrived back in town. Thought my mind was playing tricks on me, for a second. But there's no mistaking that feeling. I had to come and see for myself."
"We're getting pretty good at this whole soulmate thing, huh?" you laugh, unaware of the tears running down your face. "I missed you, Buck. So much."
"I missed you too," he murmurs, kissing you again. "Didn't think I was going to survive, some days."
"Me too. Do you know how many times I stood with my car keys in my hand, ready to drive back to you?"
He chuckles and then sniffles, emotion dripping down his cheeks.
"I did exactly the same thing. So many times."
You wrap your arms around his middle, reveling in the way he smells like gasoline and home.
"How long are you here for?" he murmurs, worried he'll disturb the peace.
"I'm not sure. A good few days, at least."
"Okay," he breathes. "I can do a few days. We can do a few days."
"Sorry I didn't tell you sooner. I didn't know, to be honest. It was all kinda last minute."
"It's okay, pretty thing," he mutters into your hair. "It was a nice surprise."
"You're coming tonight, right? To my Mom's party?"
"Wouldn't miss it."
You stay wrapped up in each other for a little while longer, savouring his warmth. He rubs absentminded patterns across the skin of your back, committing the softness of it to his memory.
"I should probably get back to work. I took off with no warning."
"You're the boss. You're allowed," you chuckle.
He laughs with you, and the sound lights up your nerves, illuminates your bones. It settles itself in the hollows of your ribcage, tangles itself in your heartstrings. It's like medicine.
"Can't wait to see you tonight," you whisper. "Wear something cute."
"I always do," he winks, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Miss you already."
"Miss you more."
He looks at you, smiling.
"Man, we're the worst."
"Truly."
He kisses you once, twice, three times before finally leaving, reluctant to let you go. You spend the rest of the afternoon floating on air, relaxed and at ease. You haven't felt like this in a while.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
Your Dad sneaks you into the house through the side door, hiding you in the kitchen as he ushers your Mom through to the back yard.
It's decorated with floral garlands and streamers, flowers in vases covering the table he's set up. The golden, warm fairy lights illuminate the space, keeping it soft and intimate. He's been watching, carefully observing the way that she does things. He's recreated her party style perfectly.
There's a few of her closest friends waiting for her, gifts littering the spare chairs. Your Dad walks her outside, hands covering her eyes.
"Surprise!"
You watch through the door as your Mom gasps, grin on her face.
"Oh my God! You guys!"
She runs into your Dad, wrapping her arms around his neck.
"I can't believe you managed to pull this off," she says in disbelief.
He sets her back down on the ground and kisses her gently.
"I got you something. I hope you like it."
That's your cue. You sneak out as quietly as possible, standing behind her.
"Happy Birthday, Mama."
She whips around to face you, shock written across her face. Her eyes well up, tears threatening to spill. Yours do the same, bottom lip quivering.
She throws her arms around you, tugging you into her.
"I'm so happy you're here, baby girl. I missed you so much."
"Missed you. You look beautiful."
"Not as beautiful as you! Look at you, all sun kissed and glowy. You look so pretty, sweetheart."
You grin at her and she does the same back, your Dad beaming at your identical smiles.
"You're the best gift I've ever received. Then and now."
You're overwhelmed, suddenly, by the realisation that no matter what happens, no matter what life throws at you, no matter how many miles are between you - your Mom will always be in your corner. Your Dad will always be in your corner. Bucky will always be in your corner.
You think, for a moment, that despite everything, you might just be okay.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
The night goes off without a hitch.
You drink, you laugh, you sing. You and your Mom dance to ABBA, Bowie, Donna Summer. Your Dad joins in, and can't help but grin every time he watches his girls together.
What a life, he thinks. I'm the luckiest man in the world.
When everyone gets a little past tipsy, your Mom changes the music to something slower, jazzier, richer. Your Dad pulls her into his chest, holding her close as they move to the melody. You're sat at the table taking off your heels when Bucky slides into the seat next to you. He pulls your foot into his lap and undoes the strap, sliding the shoe off gently. He rubs his thumb into your sole, smirking when you groan.
"Have you been avoiding me tonight, pretty baby?"
His cheeks are flushed slightly, top few buttons of his shirt open. He's been drinking a little, his walls lowered more than usual.
"I have to."
"Oh yeah?"
"I feel like I'm gonna burst into flames every time you look at me," you whisper. "I kinda want to rip your clothes off, baby."
He groans at the nickname. You know exactly what you're doing.
"It only takes one look for a minute too long to figure out how I feel about you, Buck. They'll work it all out instantly."
"Dance with me," he murmurs suddenly. "Your parents are too busy staring into each others eyes. Come on, honey. One dance."
His big blue eyes bore into yours, and you know you're fucked. You're never going to be able to say no to him.
"One dance," you whisper.
He takes your hand and leads you to the decked area, brightened by the golden lights. Bucky slides a hand over your back, resting there carefully. You intertwine your fingers with his and step into him, embracing the warmth that rolls off his body.
I'll Be Seeing You by Billie Holiday begins to play, and the two of you start to sway gently, eyes never leaving each others. Bucky pulls you in closer, and you melt into him. You don't care about the repercussions anymore.
Maybe it's the wine talking. Maybe it's something else.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
"That was close!"
Your Mom's giggling as your Dad holds her, having just saved her from tripping down the front steps. Everyone's giddy, both from drinking and from laughing.
"Sweetheart. Bucky. Come back for lunch tomorrow. Your Dad ordered too much catering, and we need help eating it."
"Mama, are you sure?"
"I want to see you as much as possible before you go, babygirl. You too, Buck. I feel like we don't see you as much as we used to."
"He'll be there," you reply before he can protest. "We'll carpool, and I'll bring a strawberry and cream tart that I made for you."
She kisses you on the cheek, your Dad leaning in to kiss the other side.
"Love you both."
"Love you," they say in unison, laughing and yelling jinx. "Get home safe, you two!"
"I'll take care of her," Bucky chuckles. "Always."
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
"Why don't you see my parents much anymore?"
You and Buck are walking home along the sandy coastal path, fingers intertwined and sides pressed together. You look up at him, frowning slightly when he hesitates.
"Don't lie to me, James. I can feel it, remember."
You place a hand on your chest to remind him, and he nods.
"It's not the same here without you."
You weren't expecting the sincerity. It knocks you off balance a little.
You stop when you reach a wooden bench, sitting down and pulling him with you.
"So you're isolating yourself from the people who love you?"
He smiles, sadness rife in his eyes. Your tough guy act is crumbling.
"Not on purpose. It just kinda happened."
"You promised you'd talk to me, Buck. Especially if it got too hard. You need to accept support from people, or everything is going to come crashing down."
"I know. I know. But every time I go to their house, I'm expecting you to be there. Every time I go to the beach, I'm expecting you to be there. Every time I walk past your building, I'm expecting you to be there, waiting for me to pick you up. Even when I'm sailing, I can't stop thinking about that day we spent on the boat."
"The other day I had to make three batches of buttercream, because I messed up the first two. I was so distracted thinking about you that I split them both."
He laughs, then, wholehearted and genuine. You can't help but join him, shaking your head at the absurdity of it all.
"Bucky, you have to promise that you'll keep going, even without me. You have to see my Mom and Dad like you used to, you have to still sail and go to the beach. You can't put your life on hold for me."
He takes a deep breath, sliding an arm around your shoulders to pull you in closer.
"Okay. I promise."
You whip your head around to look at him.
"Just like that?"
"Just like that, honey. You're right. I've been waiting for you to come back, so I can start living again. But life is still happening, whether you're here or not."
"Wise words, wise man," you smile. "Not a minute goes by where I don't think of you. You know that, don't you?"
"I know. I feel it."
You watch as he brings your linked hands to his chest, placing them there. You rest your head on his shoulder, lulled into calm by the steady melody of his heart. You swear it beats to the rhythm of your name.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
The two of you can't bear the idea of separating, so Buck comes home with you.
"Have you got a blanket?" he asks as he's kicking off his shoes.
"I have. What for?"
"The couch."
You process for a moment before it clicks.
"You're not sleeping on the couch, Buck."
"No?"
"No. I want your ridiculous, radiator-like body heat in bed with me."
He smiles, all giddy and lopsided, before striding across the room to you. Cradling your face in his rough hands, he kisses you with fervour. He's making up for lost time.
You tangle your fingers into his hair, tugging and pulling, smirking when he groans. He retaliates by grabbing your ass and picking you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. He carries you through to your bedroom, lips never leaving yours.
Throwing you down onto the bed, he pulls his shirt over his head, watching you hungrily as you do the same with your dress. You're left in your underwear, leaving little to the imagination.
"You're so beautiful," he murmurs. "Makes me want to cry."
You reach for him as he settles on top of you, your hand sliding along his stubbled cheek.
"I'm so glad you're feeling what I'm feeling," you whisper. "I'd think I was going insane otherwise."
Bucky kisses you again, before trailing his lips across your jaw, your ear, your neck. He's careful not to leave any marks, as much as he wants to. You glide your hands along the expanse of his shoulders, his back, his biceps. He's so strong, so broad. It makes you ache.
"So fuckin' pretty," he mumbles against your chest. "Like a goddamn dream."
You throw your head back as he attaches his mouth to your tits, nipping and sucking as he goes. Your hands are in his hair again, reveling in the way his groans vibrate through you.
Bucky slots his knee in between your legs as he kisses across your chest, smirking when you grind your hips into it. You chase the friction as best you can, moaning when it hits you just right.
"Needy baby. You don't want my fingers? My mouth? No? Just my knee?"
You nod, then shake your head. You're not sure what you're asking for, drunk on him already.
"Please, Buck. Anything."
"I'll give you whatever you want if you keep saying my name like that."
He makes quick work of pulling your underwear down your legs, swiping his fingers through your wet heat.
"Oh, fuck," he chokes. "Fuck, honey. Is this all for me? Hmm?"
"Yes, yes, yes."
"Yeah?"
"It's yours, Buck. I'm yours."
Bucky drops his head forward, bumping your nose with his.
"I think that's my favourite thing you've ever said," he mumbles against your mouth.
You reach up to kiss him, sucking his tongue before biting at his lips. You can't get close enough. Every inch of your skin is pressed to his, and you still want more.
Bucky crawls down the bed, situating himself between your legs. He nudges at you with his nose before diving in, lapping at you like a man starved.
You'd forgotten what people said about sex when you're Tethered, but it all comes back to you now. Everything is heightened, your senses on overdrive. It's like Bucky has the handbook to your body, and all he has to do is read the instructions the Universe has given him.
He's got you teetering on the edge in no time, right on the precipice. No ones ever made you feel like this. It feels like some sort of small miracle is happening, an otherworldly connection.
"Give it to me, honey baby," he murmurs into you. "Let me see how pretty you look when you come."
You tug at his hair as you reach your climax, the vibrations of his groan only prolonging your release. Bucky helps you ride it out, only ceasing his action when he's satisfied you're satisfied.
He rests his head against your thigh and looks up at you as you come down, breathing heavily.
"You good?"
"So good," you grin. "Never better."
"Me neither," he whispers, crawling up your body to kiss you again. You taste yourself and whine, desperate to feel closer to him.
"Need you," you demand against his lips. "Need you more than anything."
"I know, baby," he soothes as he smooths the hair back from your face. "Gonna give you everything you want. Anything in the world."
You're on the verge of tears again, completely overwhelmed. He's looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky just for him. You think maybe you would, if he asked you to.
Bucky slides home in one gentle thrust, easy as breathing. The both of you exhale, savouring the moment. It's like nothing either of you have ever felt before.
You pull his face down to you, resting your foreheads against each other.
"Buck, I-"
"I know," he breathes. "Fuck, I know."
"Need you to move, baby."
He nods and kisses you sweetly, before pulling his hips back and gliding forward. The angle is just right, both of you keening.
"Fuck, honey. So pretty. So tight. Fuck."
Bucky sets a steady rhythm, not too fast, not too slow. It's like he can read your mind, knowing exactly what you need. All you can say is his name as stars cloud your vision.
He slides his hand down your front, rubbing perfect circles on your clit with his fingers. You clamp down on him and he groans, low and gutteral.
"Need you to come, pretty baby," he whispers hoarsely. "Please. Waited so long for this. Please."
The desperation in his tone is what throws you into your release, muscles tensing and back arched. You grip his biceps, scratching your nails into his sun kissed skin.
Bucky can't hold on any longer, falling over the edge with you. The way he says your name as he does will be ingrained in your mind forever.
He drops his weight onto you entirely, no longer able to hold himself up. You wrap your arms around him, drawing absent minded patterns across his back. You're both sweating and panting. You're both completely content.
"Holy shit," he whispers after a while.
"You think it's gonna be like that every time?" you ask, grinning.
Bucky rolls off you and lands on the bed beside you, pulling you into his chest.
"Honey, just you wait. I've got moves you've never seen."
You snort, unable to hold in your laughter. You're floating on cloud nine, satiated and warm.
"You're the worst," you giggle, running your fingers over his abs gently.
The two of you stay intertwined for hours, enjoying the way your bodies fit together like two pieces of a puzzle. You both drift in and out of sleep, conversing in the gaps. At some points, you just lay in silence, completely comfortable. No one needs to say anything. You both know what the other person is thinking.
Eventually, the sun rises, casting the room in a golden orange glow. Bucky looks like an angel, illuminated by the morning light. You wonder for a second if he is, sent down as a gift to you.
Suddenly, you feel an intense sadness in your chest. You look up at Bucky from where you lay across him, and see a single tear drip down his cheek.
"I don't want you to go."
The only sound that can be heard is his sorrow hitting the pillow.
"I don't think I want to go."
He strokes your hair softly, taking a deep breath to try and get a handle on his emotions.
"You have to, baby. It's your dream."
Your bottom lip wobbles for a second, before the words come spilling out.
"You're my dream."
Bucky sniffles, and you continue.
"I could have nothing, but I have everything if I have you."
You sit up and Bucky does too, capturing your lips in a tear stained kiss.
"We'll be okay, my honey girl."
You crawl into his lap and wrap your arms around his neck, letting his warmth bleed into your bones.
"I know," you say, unsure if you're trying to convince yourself or him.
You know you'll be okay. It just doesn't feel like it right now.
You wonder how many times you can keep leaving and coming back before one of your hearts breaks for good.
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tag list part one
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Chapter 10: Brother Dearest
Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV
Summary:  When you decided to work with Butcher and his merry band of supe hunters to take down Homelander, you neve expected to be saddled with a sullen, grumpy, jerk like Soldier Boy when the job was done. The more you're around him the more you hate him, but you can't help but wonder, is he really as big a jerk as you think? Reader is a supe with plant powers. This takes place in an AU about a month after the end of The Boys Season 3, in which Butcher has let Soldier Boy continue to work with him on his team.  (I'm real bad at summaries, please forgive me!) Soldier Boy calls the reader "Petals."
Tropes: Enemies to Lovers (Not in this chapter), Only One Bed (This chapter), Slow Burn, Age Difference (Reader is in her 20s), Soft Ben/ Soldier Boy, Protective Ben/Soldier Boy
Word Count: 9.7K
Warnings: I'm going to label this 18+ because Soldier Boy (he's a warning and everyone knows it), Manipulation, Gaslighting, Swearing, Mentions of Sex, Sexual Innuendo, Sexual Tension, Shouting, Anger, Talks About Weed, Super Manipulative Trash Man Being Introduced, Ben/Soldier Boy might be a little bit OOC.
Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!
Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.
A/N: Back to our regularly scheduled angst...
Series Masterlist
Main Masterlist
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It feels like you've only had thirty minutes of sleep when your body jerks upwards out of your bed to the sound of crashing and the shattering of pottery, followed by someone who doesn't sound like Ben shout "What the fuck?"
It had been a few days since you faced the supe with the ability to liquidize his form and after about five showers that included you scrubbing the skin of your body raw with both a luffa and a sugar scrub and gargling with Listerine until it felt like all your taste buds were burned off, you felt that you had rid yourself of the oppressive smell and taste of the supe.
Ben and you seemed to be falling in to a familiar pattern, he walked with you to work before going off to see what Butcher had planned for him and if he could Ben would always show up at the end of your shift to walk you home. Though each time he was less than friendly to Jake, who was still trying his upmost to get Ben to talk to him rather than Ben's usual half-grunts, shrugging shoulders, and death glares.
It wasn't working and you stopped trying to get Ben to be more friendly towards your boss, but it didn't make it any less unusual that Ben kept walking with you to and from work.
When you asked him why he walked with you he said that "You shouldn't be walking alone" which of course prompted the conversation of "I don't need a babysitter" and "I've been walking to the store for two years by myself" and him not listening to anything you said. That last bit was becoming more and more normal for the two of you.
So you rationalized that Ben was trying to be nicer to you because he wanted to try to be sort-of friends and you tried not to think about how it was making you have more feelings for him.
It was difficult not to like Ben when he was acting more friendly. When he actually made an effort to have conversations with you or sat with you quietly while you read or when he was walking with you to and from work and stopping along the way to get you coffee or your favorite tea. It was confusing to you why he was doing that, why someone who was so focused on sex was doing sweet things for you after you told him that you wouldn't sleep with him and was making you have deeper feelings for him.
So like a normal person you threw your frustration into your crocheting. Over the past week you had finished Annie's sweater, made four cat toys for Bean, and were currently working on a long cardigan sweater to send your grandmother who called last week to check in and had told you she needed a new one.
Ben had come with you to the craft store and hated every second of it. Not to mention each time you added a bundle of yarn to the basket you made him hold, he would ask "What the fuck are you going to do with that?" to which you responded "Learn quantum physics." Though Ben had been impressed with the knitting needles, thought that they could be useful enough to use for self defense and had embarrassed you when you turned around and found him trying to mime stabbing someone with them while the other people in the store watched him in horror.
You rolled out of bed and threw open your bedroom door before barreling down the darkly lit hallway and sliding into the living room on your crocheted leaf socks. "What is it?" You shout prepared for attack.
Unfortunately when you slide into the room, you do so with too much enthusiasm and you slip and fall, landing on your back with a loud groan.
That one hurt.
"You alright Petals?" You hear Ben ask from somewhere above you. It's not said in a teasing way, it's said in a growl.
Is he mad at me?
"Yep just testing if gravity is still working. It is, if you were curious." You cough out a laugh as you get up and realize that Ben isn't on the couch, he's standing in the middle of your kitchen holding someone by the lapels of his black oversized army jacket against your refrigerator.
Oh that's why he's mad.
The man is rail-thin, dressed completely in black, with hair so blond you sometimes thought it was white, buzzed over his head, and although you can't see his face you know that he'll have a set of dark blue eyes that sometimes turn black when he's angry and a pair of dark hoops curving over his right eyebrow. Ben is holding him up so high that the man's feet aren't touching the ground.
You hadn't seen your brother Darren in at least a year, not since he dropped by to crash on your couch to tell you that his buddy Roach, yes that is what he called him, was opening a restaurant and asked Darren to be his business partner. He had walked you through the technical lingo and acted enthusiastic about the prospects, told you that it was his dream to open a restaurant, but he was having a problem coming up with his half of the cash. Darren had asked you for a small loan and you'd scrambled to get it together for him.
But after about three months  Darren called to tell you that it fell through and that he was onwards and upwards trying to "make his way in the world" which by now you knew was Darren speak for "could you please send me a little more money to get on my feet." Your grandmother had stopped giving him money ages ago, but you couldn't, he was family, your only brother and you loved him.
"Darren?" You say hesitantly.
"Hey sis!" Darren smiles when you turn on the light in the kitchen, looking too happy for someone being smooshed against a raspberry and blackberry covered refrigerator.
"You know this guy?" Ben glances at you over his shoulder. He's not wearing a shirt again and you're trying very hard not to focus on how good he looks without one. The muscles on his back are flexed from the exertion of holding your brother up against the refrigerator and Ben isn't breaking a sweat.
Lifting a person probably feels like lifting up Bean to him.
"Yeah he's my brother." You take a step forward and hear something crunch beneath your foot. Your gaze drops to the floor and you understand exactly what the loud crashing noise was.
The strawberry plant that usually sits on the small kitchen table that you shoved under the window is on the ground. Shards of painted pottery litter your floor in every direction, the strawberry plant smooshed under a boot print that matches up with Darren's infamous buckled motorcycle boots. The same ones he'd had since high school that he'd tell anyone who listened he won in the same bar fight that he got the thin scar on his chin from, when in reality he got them at a thrift store down the street from your grandmother's house and the scar from when he tripped and hit his chin on the toilet when he was fifteen and trying to learn how to shave.
Must have come in the window from the fire escape.
Most of the window had been blocked by a tangerine and lemon tree that you had encouraged to grow, but now the tree was pushed to the side off kilter and the window was open letting in the warm summer breeze.
You didn't understand why Darren did that when he still had the key that you made him when you moved in.
Ben drops Darren unceremoniously onto the hardwood floor, who lands with a loud "clunk” from his boots, but your brother doesn’t look upset. He rubs his hand over the top of his head as if adjusting his buzzed hair with a sheepish smile while Ben steps back onto one of the pieces of pot on your hardwood floor, but doesn't wince.
Darren notices your gaze on the smooshed strawberry plant and the shattered remains of the pot it was in. "Ooo, sorry sissy." He frowns. "But I'm sure you can fix it can't you? That is what you do." Darren emphasizes it by waving his hand around you apartment at the numerous plants covering your walls.
You crouch down and pick up the remnants of the plant gingerly, cradling it to your chest. "Um, yeah." You force a smile, trying not to think about how important the pot was to you. It was the last thing you had of your grandfather, before he passed. It had been one of your favorite memories, sitting out on the back porch in the middle of a thunderstorm painting flowers and dots and zigzags on the terracotta pot that housed the strawberry plant that you grew on the tray of your high chair the day your powers developed.
Darren knew how much the pot meant to me. He had one too before he used it for air-rifle practice.
You put the plant on your kitchen table, before taking the broom from the hook on the wall. "Why didn't you just use the door?" You tried to say it in an upbeat way, but it fell flat.
"I was excited to see my favorite sister." Darren grins pulling you into a hug.
He smells like he always does, a bit like cigarette smoke, beer, and the stale smell of weed. But when he pulls back and sees that you're still frowning, his own mouth begins to descend into an exaggerated pout. "Did you not want me to come by?"
"Of course I did." You say, but you weren't sure. "I just thought you would call first or use the key that I got you not come through the window."
“Oh stop being so dramatic.” He pats you on the head. “I’m here now so what’s going on? You got a boyfriend-“ He gestures to Ben. “Who is also a supe?”
“Ben is my roommate.” You emphasize the word roommate before Ben can say boyfriend. That was the last thing you wanted him to say in front of Darren. You'd never hear the end of it You begin to sweep up the pieces, trying to fight the urge to cry over the shattered remains. You knew that crying in front of Darren would only make him tease you about being "too sensitive" so you kept it down and figure that you can cry about it later.
"Uh huh." Darren eyes him. "So he's got super strength?"
"Why do you care?" Ben grouches, crossing his arms over his chest, but he doesn't look away from where you're sweeping up the pieces.
Darren shrugs and holds up his hands in mock surrender. "Touchy Touchy. Just making conversation dude. I mean, you're living with my sister." He breezes, but you notice Darren stand up a little straighter when he talks to Ben and you wonder if he was embarrassed by how easily Ben was able to man-handle him.
Ben opens his mouth, but you interrupt whatever he was about to say. "Darren what are you doing here?"
He brightens with the question. "Oh it's so exciting! My friend is starting up a business and-"
"You need money?" You interrupt, trying not to think about how much you could spare from the already measly sum in your bank account to help him. This month hadn't been the best and after rent and utilities you probably could only spare 70 dollars or so, but even that seemed to be pushing it.
"No nothing like that." Darren waves a hand. "I just needed a place to crash because I'm going to go meet him tomorrow."
"Oh-"
"And he wants to meet you."
"Huh?" You look up from the small pile of shards at him. "Why?"
"He said that he wanted to meet the sister who I'm always talking about." Darren shrugs, before pulling a blunt from where it is behind his left ear, and lighting it.
He talks about me to his friends?
"Uh-huh. I think that I've met enough of your friends." You reply continuing to sweep more pieces into the pile.
You were using the word "friends" hesitantly because Darren seemed to go through them so often that you didn't think that it was worth it to learn all their names. And also because one time you had run into one of the "friends" Darren made and he had proceeded to chase you down the block shouting words about your brother that were not worth repeating.
"I think you'll like this one." Darren eyes Ben again. "I showed him your picture and he said that you were classic."
You miss Ben stiffen.
"Please stop trying to set me up. I'm fine." You could feel your cheeks heating because you knew that Ben was watching you.
The last time Darren had tried to set you up you found out half way through the date that your date was his weed dealer, whose idea of a romantic first date was to take you to a gentleman's club and then try to see who would be into having a threesome. Needless to say you were underwhelmed and blocked his number. The only good thing that had come of it was the gummy bear edibles you'd nicked from his pocket when he was flirting with one of the dancers and Annie and you had enjoyed the rest of the evening giggling and eating copious amounts of pizza and snacks.
"I don't know, he's better than the last one. Definitely has more money and he's sophisticated." Darren breathes out a cloud of smoke and you wave your hand to dissipate the smog.
"Charles Manson would be better than the last one, Darren."
"Manson had hundreds of followers and was treated like a god. I think you're being too picky." Darren rolls his eyes at you while he takes a hit from the blunt.
"Only you would see Manson as a role model." You grumble under your breath crouching down to sweep the pieces of the pot into the dust pan. "But if you really want to stay here you can take my bed."
A part of you were expecting Darren to protest, to care that you wouldn't have anywhere to sleep, but he doesn't argue with you.
“Great! Thanks.” He takes a few steps towards the hallway, the cloud of smoke following behind him like a dark omen, before he stops and glances back. “You got anything to drink?”
“No. Fresh out.” You lie without looking up. You didn’t want it to mix with whatever the hell that was in his system, because with Darren it was always something.
“I swear it’s like you don’t even think about me.” Darren flashes a wide grin, but the joke kind of hurts.
As he goes you dump the pieces into a plastic grocery bag, hoping deep down that you could glue it back together, but even you know that it's probably a long shot.
Maybe I can make the bigger pieces into something else? File down the sharp edges?
Ben is still standing in your kitchen, his arms crossed, listening to Darren go down the hallway and into your bedroom, slamming the door behind him.
The door opens again and you hear Darren mutter, “Out stupid cat," sending a fuming Bean hissing down the hallway. He trots into the living room indignantly and you stoop down to calm him down, leaning the broom against the kitchen table as you do.
Ben is quiet, but you can feel the room heat up a few degrees for a second almost as if he's angry. “Does he always talk to you that way?” Ben’s voice is low.
“He’s high.” You continue to pet Bean, not looking up. “He’s not usually so-“ You search for the word.
“Fucking rude?”
You stand up with a sigh. “You sound like Annie.”
“Oh so she doesn’t get along with him either? Shocker.”
“Ben.”
He was bristling slightly, annoyed, teetering on angry. “Fine.” He mutters.
You turn your attention to the trampled strawberry plant, gently dragging your fingers over the petals repairing the damage with a wave of your hand as you do, until it looks better than it had a few moments ago, and place it in a plastic black pot temporarily. You were again, trying not to be too upset about the way that Darren entered your apartment, but it was like him to do something like that, like him to break things that you thought were important without a second thought for how you felt.
Your relationship with your brother was hard and sometimes it felt like you were the only one trying, but you didn't want to give up on him. He was the only family that you had besides your grandmother. When your parents died, Darren pulled away, stayed out late drinking and doing whatever drugs he could get his hand on, and had multiple flings with women in the neighborhood that weren't exactly single. Your grandmother had cut him out completely, but you couldn't.
“Are you okay?” Ben asks.
“Yeah, just kind of tired.” You sigh, closing the window that Darren pried open to get into the apartment. When you turn back you realize just how close Ben is standing to you, so close that you can feel the warmth radiating out from his skin and into the air.
His fingertip lightly presses the scrunch between your eyebrows. "You're lying." Ben says it quietly.
"I wish you wouldn't do that."
"Do what?"
"Tell me when I'm lying. It's infuriating."
"Why?"
"Because it's the 21st century and when someone lies because they don't want to talk about how they really feel, it's common courtesy to just say 'ok' and move on!" You snap, grabbing the bag of smashed pottery. You immediately felt bad. You didn't mean to snap at him, but you were upset about Darren showing up unannounced even though you told him each time he came into town to tell you, but he never did, and about him breaking one of the only things in your apartment that had sentimental value to you.
Ben frowns at you for a minute, and you think that he's going to come up with some kind of retort, but instead he says  "Okay."
"Thank you."
You watch Ben's gaze drift back into your living room. "You can take the couch.”
It surprises you. You were just going to camp out in the bathtub and will the moss to make a pillow beneath your head. "But where will you sleep?"
“I can sleep on the floor.” He shrugs. "Don't need a bed. And I've slept enough anyway-"
“Ben you’re not going to sleep on the floor because my brother decided to show up in the middle of the night. It’s unfair.”
It was. You didn’t want Ben to curl into a ball on the floor and try to find a comfortable position, not after he'd spent the last forty years in a Russian Lab without a bed and probably without a pillow.
He shouldn't have to suffer because my brother never remembers how much I hate surprises.
“Well I’m sure as hell  not going to let you sleep on the floor.” Ben shouts.
"I can sleep in the bathtub. The moss is actually really comfortable-"
"In the fucking bathtub? You're kidding right?"
"No. I've done it before-"
"When?" Ben suddenly looks murderous.
"The last time Darren was here I didn't have a couch and-"
"That fucker made you sleep in the bathtub?"
"I mean he didn't volunteer any other options and Darren can't fit in there so-" You try to reason with him, getting confused as to why Ben was suddenly looking down the hallway like he was going to haul Darren out by the lip and make him apologize.
"I'll be fucking damned if you sleep in a fucking bathtub!"
“What is it with you being chivalrous at the most inopportune times?” You stamp your foot in frustration.
You didn’t want to sleep in the bathtub, but you were willing to if it meant that Ben had a soft place to sleep. The moss wasn't all that bad, it was squishy, and the bathroom was kind of cozy in your apartment because of all the plants you had in there.
“Forgive me, but when I grew up it was considered common courtesy to give things like beds to women. And what kind of man would I be if I let you sleep in a mother fucking bathtub?” He shouts back, using the words you had used earlier to yell at him for pointing out your lie.
“Well if you sleep on the floor then I’m going to sleep in the bathtub."
“Fine.” Ben seethes.
“Fine.”
You stand there with your arms crossed and eyes narrowed refusing to back down. Ben mirrors your stance, before he loses it.
“I think it’s fucking ridiculous that no one is going to sleep on the couch. So why don’t you just shut up and sleep on the couch?"
“Because it’s your bed!”
“I bought it for both of us to use!” He snaps back.
You glare at him, tapping your foot, before you glance at the large couch.
Honestly, when it was in the pull out position it was about the size of a full bed, maybe a little bigger, more than enough room for Ben and for you. The thought seemed almost too crazy to consider… almost. Your mouth dips into a nervous frown, anxiety electrifying in your veins.
“I mean it’s-“ You clear your throat. “It’s big enough for both of us.” You say quietly.
Ben looks at you like you’re crazy, body going taunt. “I thought you said you didn’t want me to fuck you.”
“I don’t want to fuck me Ben, but I don’t hate the idea of sleeping with you. I mean I don’t think you’re going to do anything while I’m asleep."
Ben looks angry all over again. “I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again! I’m not a fucking rapist.”
“No. Ben I mean-" You were waving your hands in front of you nervously trying to find the words. "I’m not saying you’re a rapist. I’m trying to tell you that I trust you and-“
Ben’s expression slackens. “You trust me?” He interrupts you in a whisper, sounding almost as if he can’t believe it, his face twisted into an emotion that you can't recognize.
“Well yeah.” Your cheeks flame bright red. “I mean we’re kinda friends and I trust my friends. I mean, do you think that I would let you live here if I didn’t trust you?"
Ben clears his throat, but doesn't say anything. "Um-" His eyes flick to the couch then back at you. "I don't want you to do anything you're uncomfortable with." He says gruffly.
"It doesn't make me that uncomfortable." You reply, but you're already trying to figure out the mechanics of how you can sleep on the couch with him, without touching him.
"Uh-huh." Ben raises an eyebrow.
"It's okay. I'm going to get my pillow."
"I'll get it."
"But-" You begin to say, but Ben ignores you and stomps down the hallway.
Why does he want to get it?
He doesn't even bother to knock when he goes into your room and you can hear a quiet scuffle, followed by your brother shouting "What's your problem man?" and Ben's retort of "Just shut the fuck up and go to sleep." 
Ben is still grumbling something under his breath when he comes back into the living room, but he holds out your pillow for you. "Here."
"Thanks. But what did I say about you going into my room?” You hoped that the joke would ease some of the tension that you were holding in your shoulders.
"I think we threw all that out the window the other night. Don't you think Petals?" Ben smirks.
Right, the other night when he broke down my door and let me squeeze his hand.
"Maybe." You hug your pillow against your chest. "Do you-" You cough to clear your throat. "Do you want the inside or the outside?"
His eyes flick to the front door and then to the hallway. "I'll take the outside."
"Okay." You stand there awkwardly for a minute and even though you were the one who suggested this idea in the first place, you suddenly feel anxious.
I can do this. I can lay next to him and avoid touching him. What if I snore? Or drool? Or say embarrassing things? Oh fuck what if I start to have a dream about him with him literally laying right there.
“Petals, if you don’t want to-“
“I want to. I just need to wrap my head around it and I don’t want you to sleep on the floor.” You take in a deep breath and climb onto the couch, pushing yourself as far as you can into the back cushions. You don't look at him when he gets in behind you, leaving about a good three inches of space between your bodies, the two of you back to back.
It's quiet for a few minutes, but then you feel the couch begin to shake lightly and you realize that Ben is laughing.
"What's so funny?" You turn to look over your shoulder at him.
"I was just thinking that it's about time I got you into my bed Petals."
"Shut up." You snort and turn your body enough to hit him on the shoulder, which makes Ben turn over to face you.
His dark hair hangs long over his forehead, his eyes shining, and his signature smirk pulls at the end of his lips. "Make me."
Fuck. You bite the inside of your cheek, fighting the flush that threatens to rise against your cheeks, when you think about kissing him to shut him up. All that did was remind you of the kiss you shared in the hallway the night he first slept in your apartment which then lead to how close he was to you and that only brought back memories of his beard against your neck outside the party. The flush that finally breaks through is coupled with the immediate blooming of the apple tree at the end of the couch. The delicate flowers fluttering open as if they were winking at the two of you.
Shit, maybe he won't notice that.
Ben glances up at the tree above the two of you confused. "Why'd you do that?"
"Do what?" You ask innocently.
"You made the tree make the fucking flowers."
"No, I didn't." You hit your pillow to rid yourself of an imaginary lump.
"Yes, you did. You also did it the other day when you were reading your book." Ben's eyes roam your face as if he's searching for the answer.
Oh right, when I was reading my book and it started to get a little bit steamy and everything in the room started flowering like it had been a long winter… Honestly it kinda has been a long winter, but I'm not going to think about it right now when he's this close to me. I can't believe he noticed that.
"Does it mean something?" He raises an eyebrow.
"Nope."
Ben smirks his eyes drawn to the center of your forehead where you know the scrunch is giving away your lie. "It does, doesn't it?"
"Nope. Goodnight." You turn over and stare at the back cushions of the couch. Hoping that he’ll just drop it.
He doesn’t.
"It means that you're turned on, doesn't it Petals?" Ben's breath is warm against the back of your neck, making goosebumps trail over your arms and you fight to keep control of the blooming.
"No, it doesn't."
"Do I turn you on?" You can hear the smile in his voice.
"No, and it’s not what it means."
"Uh-huh. So when I do something like this-" Ben reaches out to touch the small of your back and trails his warm large hand over the curve of your right hip.
You clench your teeth together to try to stop the power that rushes out of your body with the contact, but it's too late, the Jasmine that creeps along the brick wall behind the tv explodes, the smell of Jasmine wafting over to the couch where Ben and you are laying.
Ben laughs, shaking the couch beneath you.
"Shut up. It's so embarrassing." You moan into the pillow curling further in on yourself and pulling the crocheted blanket over your head, blushing so deeply that you were sure you looked like a giant raspberry.
“It’s not embarrassing Petals.” Ben chuckles, pulling the blanket down from your head. “It’s kinda cute.”
You glare at him over your shoulder. “I will kill you.”
Ben contemplates what he’s going to say next. "So when you're fucking someone-"
"If you finish that sentence you're not going to wake up." You warn, knowing exactly where he's going with this.
Ben only laughs at you. "Come on Petals, I'm curious. Plus you're so adamant about not sleeping with me that I guess I'll never see when you c-."
"Fine!" You shout turning around to face him again, cheeks beet red. He's still staring at you with that ridiculous smirk that makes your legs weak and sends warmth pooling into the pit of your stomach. "When I have an orgasm, I do make everything bloom. Happy?"
"I mean I'd be happier if you'd let me witness it and if you'd let me fuck you." Ben's hand is touching your waist, his thumb teasing the edge of where your t-shirt meets the top of your sleep shorts.
"Ben, we've talked about this." You say it mostly to remind yourself.
"I know." His smirk dips into a frown and he withdraws his hand from your body.
You chew the inside of your cheek thinking about how hard this is and how much you wished it could be different.
"It's okay." You whisper, because he might not have apologized, but you could see the frustration on his face. "Really, it's fine."
Ben doesn't say anything, only continues to look at you with an unreadable expression, so instead you say "I'll see you in the morning" and you turn over to look at the cushions on the back of the couch, hoping that you're able to fall asleep before he does.
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Mike's screech of "I Will Always Love You" is not as loud in the living room as it is in your bedroom, but it's still enough to wake you up. The room is lighter in the morning, the gentle pulse of sunlight filters through the leaves of the plants, but sends a warm glow over your body.
Actually, you were already warm, really warm, warmer than usual.
That's weird why am I-
You inhale sharply when you realize why you're so warm. Your body is pinned into the couch cushions, because Ben is practically laying on top of you. Your back is flush against his chest, his strong arms wrapped around your waist, and his face is pressed into your hair.
This isn't good.
Ben mutters something in his sleep and tightens his grip on your waist, pulling you even further against his chest, and shifting his hips in a way that makes you realize that this is a lot worse than you thought. Because you can feel exactly what makes Ben so cocky begin to get excited.
Fuck, this really isn't good.
"Um Ben?" You whisper, but he doesn't wake up, instead he moans something into your hair, and shifts his hips again in a way that makes your heartbeat stutter in your chest.
Fuck. Really not good.
You knew that Ben was attracted to you, knew that he had wanted to fuck you since the moment he first saw you, so you weren't surprised that this was happening, and there was a part of you that enjoyed this. Laying in bed with him, feeling his warmth transferring to you, having his body relaxed around you as he pulled you deeper and deeper into his chest. The warmth was lovely, you didn't do well in the cold and being with Ben meant that you'd never have to worry about that again. It was moments like this that you wished you never let Ben move in, not because you hated him, but because you liked him too much.
"Ben." You say it louder.
"Hmm?" Ben groans. "If no one is dying then don't wake me up Petals." He murmurs, obviously not understanding what the problem is. You wait another minute, lying beneath him and trying to think about a way to get out of this, when Ben realizes what he's doing.
He raises his head from your hair blinking at where you're staring at him over your shoulder with wide eyes.
"Morning." You whisper.
"Morning." Ben returns, but it's barely audible, just a marvelous deep rumble that you can feel vibrating up through where he's laying on top of you.
Ben doesn't move, his eyes are a soft pine, like fresh sprigs in spring sprouting from the highest branches to stretch towards the early sun. You can't move, you feel frozen beneath his gaze, watching the gentle way the light kisses his bold features, the smooth dip of his bow-like mouth, the rough edge of his strong jaw, and the proud bend of his nose.
His arms loosen from around your waist, but he turns you towards him, so you're pressed chest to chest, without looking away from your face. Your hands are pinned between the two of you, resting against his bare chest right over where his heart beats beneath your fingertips.
Ben's green eyes trace your features, dropping to your lips before raising once more to look you in the eye as if he's asking for your permission. You know what he wants, can see it in the way he watches you, and see it in the way that his head tilts towards yours. Your lips tingle in anticipation, your heart beat loud like the thunder in a summer storm that rattles the windows of your grandmother's home. You can't draw a breath because you know if you do it'll be full of him, until all you can do is breathe him in and sink into his body until there's nothing left of you and everything left of Ben.
You're not sure if it's because you're still a little bit sleepy or if it's because Ben is so warm or if it's because all the hard edges of Ben that you've grown accustomed to have smoothed over and all you see is the version that Ben was only around you. The version who sat with you when you had a nightmare and refused to leave, the version who walked you to work every morning, the version who sat with you while you read your book, and the version who seemed to care more than he was willing to admit. But the longer you lay there with him the bigger the urge is to pull him closer.
Your hands smoothly travel up Ben's chest feeling the strength beneath the palms of your hands before you lock them behind his head, tangling loosely in the dark strands of his hair at the nape of his neck.
The apple tree at the end of the couch begins to shed flowers down on both of you and Ben’s eyes flick up to it for just a second before he smiles. It’s the first time you’ve seen him have a smile like that, one that looked so easy, so genuinely happy and you’d be lying if you said that you didn’t think you wanted to make him smile like that all the time.
Ben leans forward to close the distance between the two of you, his lips warm and inviting, his forehead just barely resting against yours, but before your lips touch, your bedroom door opens and slams into the wall with a loud crashing noise that makes you jolt back away from him, breaking the spell.
"Good morning sis!" Darren crows walking in to the room. "Oh sorry, did I interrupt something between you guys?" He wiggles his eyebrows.
"No." Your voice sounds high and squeaky, because he had. You're not sure what would have happened if he hadn't come in, well, you did. Ben was going to kiss you and you wanted him to.
This is getting too complicated.
Ben only frowns at your brother from his position on the couch. The two of you are sitting up now, side by side as if nothing happened, but you can't shake the memory of the warmth of his body soaking into yours as he curved himself around you, almost as if he wished to protect you even when he was asleep.
Is that why he wanted to sleep on the outside?
"Sure." Darren smirks. "Do you have anything to eat around here? Or do you only have all this shitty fruit?" Darren frowns at the raspberry and blackberry vines, the strawberry plant, the apple tree, and the lemon and tangerine trees.
"Oh." You shake off the insult. "There should be some cereal in the cabinet"
"I hope you got the name brand stuff this time."
Maybe I'd be able to afford the name brand stuff if someone stopped coming around and asking me for money.
"If you don't like anything we have, I'd suggest going to the diner across the street." Ben says tightly emphasizing that he lives here now.
"No thanks bro. I'm kinda short on cash these days." Darren replies finding the Lucky Charms cereal and pouring himself the last bowl without a second thought.
"Oh really?" Ben says standing from the couch to glare at your brother. "And what exactly is it that you do Darren?"
Darren leans back against the counter eating his cereal, but you can see the tight way he's gripping the spoon. "I'm an entrepreneur."
"What the fuck does that mean?"
"Ben-" You start to say, unsure as to why Ben was giving your brother a hard time.
"It means that I invest in other opportunities." Darren stabs his cereal with the spoon.
"And if you're so short on cash, how do you do that?" Ben presses.
A dark look passes through Darren's eyes. "What exactly are you getting at?"
"Well you've been here for maybe six hours and the only thing that I've seen you do is break in, take your sister's bed, and insult her." Ben takes a step forward into the living room. "So to me, it kinda looks like you just sit on your ass like a fucking pussy and mooch off of your sister, because you're not man enough to get a real job."
"What the fuck is your problem man?" Darren puts down the bowl. "I don't understand where all this hostility is coming from, but I don't have to explain myself to you. My sister and my relationship is none of your business, and I've been here a lot longer and I'm pretty sure that I'll be here longer than you-"
"Not if I have anything to say about it." Ben growls.
"Whoa wait a second-" You stand up from the couch.
"You have no idea who you're talking to." Darren's voice is low, his eyes leveled on Ben. "You shouldn’t start a fight you can't win."
Ben's lips tilt into a smirk. "Trust me, it's not going to be much of a fight."
"Whoa!" This time you plant yourself between the two of them, one hand resting on Darren's chest. You can feel a deep thrumming buzz coming through the material of his band t-shirt and into your hand and for a moment you're surprised, because your brother wasn't a supe.
Then where is it coming from?
You shake it off. "Let's all just take a nice deep breath."
Ben's eyes are still narrowed at Darren, refusing to back down from a fight, which was like him. And as much as you loved your brother you knew that he tended to have a bad temper, and the last thing you wanted was to clean up the mess when Ben pulled out his spine and reenacted Predator in your small kitchen.
"Ben please." You say it quietly, glancing at where he's towering over the two of you.
You can hear the audible click of his teeth when he unclenches his jaw, his eyes no longer the soft pine they were when you were wrapped in his embrace, but now blaze a dark green. You know that he's about to say something, but Ben's phone rings and continues to ring in the silence, until Ben sighs and turns to pick it up, but he doesn't seem happy about it.
You drop your hand from Darren's chest with a sigh, but happy for the interruption. "Why do you have to be like that?" You ask your brother.
"Me? He started it!" Darren fumes. "Boy, you really know how to pick 'em sis."
"What do you mean? We're not together, we're just friends! And wait, this isn't about him and me. He lives here and if you keep dropping by, you're going to have to be okay with seeing Ben."
"Why can't you just move in with Annie? She's better to look at anyway." Darren rolls his eyes and picks up his bowl of soggy cereal.
Maybe to you. You fight the memory of Ben in the towel still wet from his shower that you witnessed the other day and successfully stop the flush that tries to creep into your cheeks. It's followed again by how wonderful it felt to drag your hands up Ben's chest and catch in the dark strands of his hair. The fruitless tomato plant behind Darren's head begins to swell with bright red tomatoes the size of your fist.
I've got to get that under control.
The memory of Ben figuring out exactly why that happened around you flits through your mind bringing an inescapable wave of embarrassment. The day you'd found it out was when Annie and you were watching Vampire Diaries for the first time in your bedroom back home and as soon as Damon Salvatore walked onto the screen the blueberry bush next to your bed suddenly exploded. Not to mention the first time that your high school boyfriend Newton kissed you in his parent's cornfield, the entire crop suddenly came back tenfold in the middle of winter.
"She's moving in with her boyfriend Hughie." You say, trying not to sound disappointed.
When you first moved to the city, you had wanted to move in with her, but she was apart of the Seven, and when she finally decided to move out of Vought Tower, it was because she wanted to move in with Hughie, not because she wanted to move in with you. It stung the day she told you, and you'd be lying if you said that you were not still a little upset about it, because it felt like she had chosen someone else over you.
"Oh right, that's still going on. Don't know what she sees in that wimp."
"He's sweet. You don’t know him. And I don't know why you’re acting jealous, Annie and you have never gotten along-"
"Because she's a bitch! I can't believe you're still friends with her after all this time."
"Hey don't talk about her that way. Annie is my best friend, practically my sister."
"Right." Darren rolls his eyes again and swings the spoon in a wide arch. "She's always been a bitch and now that she's Starlight she's even worse. She's always had that stick up her ass even when we were kids-"
"If you keep talking about her that way, you can leave." You say simply, feeling your temper begin to flare.
You didn't give a fuck if Darren insulted you or made fun of you, you did however, care if he spoke poorly about Annie. Annie was family to you, Annie had been with you a hell of a lot more than Darren had when you parent's died, she hadn't pulled away from you and vanished into thin air when you needed someone to hold you or when you couldn't sleep or when you woke up screaming or when you couldn't stop crying.
That being said, Annie and Darren had never gotten along, not once in all the years that you'd been friends. Whenever Annie came over, Darren left, and vice versa. You weren't sure why they couldn't get along, but you did think it was infinitely better than Annie being secretly in love with your brother. He never had a lasting relationship in his life that was worth remembering. The longest relationship he'd been in was with his buckled combat boots that he never took off.
Darren lets out an annoyed sigh, but you watch remorse and sympathy drip into his gaze. "Fine. But I just want what's best for you. You know that right?" He puts his hand on your shoulder, his eyes softening. "Come on sis, you know that I'm just looking out for you? I love you, you're the only family I have left that actually cares about me."
Your heart breaks with his words, hurt that he feels like your grandmother doesn't care about him and that he felt like you were the only person in the world that he meant something to. Sure he'd messed up more times than you could count and did occasionally disappear whenever you seemed to need him, but he was your brother.
You sigh. "I know Darren. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have been so mean before."
"It's okay." He glances over to where Ben has just hung up the phone and is glaring at Darren's hand placement on your shoulder. "I guess I should go get dressed."
"Okay."
"But you're coming with me to meet my friend right?" Darren looks at you with a hopeful expression.
"Um... Well I'd have to tell Jake that I'll be a little late." You say slowly not wanting to disappoint Darren. "And I don't really like leaving him high and dry-"
You didn't like calling out from work, in fact you hadn't missed more than a handful of days in the two years that you'd been working there, because you genuinely liked going to work. Being there was like coming home, surrounded by the healing energy of the plants that thrived under your watchful eye.
"Come on the plants will survive without you for an hour or so." Darren smiles. "Do you want me to beg you sissy? I really want you to come with me. It would make me so happy."
"Well, okay." You concede. "Let me just text Jake."
"Yes! I'll be out in a minute and then you can change okay?"
"Sure."
When Darren struts off down the hallway, Ben joins you in the kitchen, glaring at Darren's back as he disappears into your room.
"Who was on the phone?" You ask him while picking up Darren's bowl and scrape the remaining soggy cereal into the trashcan under the sink.
"Butcher." Ben grunts. "Said that he got a lead on the electric supe, but it's all the way in Boston."
"Boston? But that's so far away. Why would he have an operation there and be picking up cars here? He can't be in two places at once."
"No idea, but Butcher said the lead was solid." Ben shrugs.  "And he said that he's getting everyone ready to go right now and that I need to get over there so we can get on the road."
"Everyone's going?" You ask disappointed. The thought of the entire team being gone for a few days made you feel lonely. They were kinda like your extended family. You also felt a little left out that Butcher hadn't asked you to go.
"Yeah. Butcher said that he would have asked you to come, but he knows you work most of this week anyway and that he thinks that it'll be alright if you stay here." Ben rubs the back of his neck, but seems hesitant. "Are you going to-" He clears his throat. "Are you going to be okay?"
You didn't miss the way his eyes flick down the hallway to where your brother is.
Is he worried about me?
"Why? You don't want to leave me with Darren or something?" You joke with a snort.
"No."
But Ben looks away when he says it in a way that makes you think that he's lying.
"Believe it or not Darren used to babysit me when I was little and I didn't die or get brain damage-"
"Not to your knowledge."
"Why are you so worried about me?"
"I'm not! I just-" Ben crosses his arms over his chest annoyed. "I don't think you should go meet his friend."
"Why not? I've met plenty of his friends. They're all very dude-bro. At least he has a type."
"I have no idea what that means."
You roll your eyes, before you consider something else. "Wait, are you jealous or something?"
"I am not fucking jealous!" Ben sighs. "I just think that maybe you should use your head Petals."
"What on earth are you talking about?"
"You going to meet his creepy friend without knowing exactly where you're going or what his friend is going to 'make you do'."
"Make me do? Ben where the fuck do you think my brother is taking me? Do you think he's selling me into the sex trade or something?" You look at him incredulously.
Does he really think so lowly of my brother? He'd never do anything like that. Darren cares about me, he's just guarded and a little rough around the edges.
"You're too fucking trusting Petals!” He explodes.
“What? I am not too trusting.”
“Yes you are!”
“No I’m not. And why are you yelling at me? Why are you mad?” You reply in confusion. “I don’t understand why you’re making such a big deal about this. I've met his friends before."
“I’m not mad I’m just fucking trying to-“ Ben clenches his jaw so tight you can see the muscle pop on the side of his face. “You’re just so damn kind and too damn stupid to see what’s directly in front of your face!”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” You plant your hands on your hips staring up at him, not expecting Ben to look so angry, but he does. His arms are folded tightly over his bare chest, his muscles tense, and his eyebrows are pulled together. “Are you really telling me that it’s stupid to trust my brother? He’s my brother! Not some random dude I met on the street-“
“He might as well be! In the fucking five minutes he’s been here he’s been nothing, but be a total dick to you!”
“Oh well excuse me Ben, but I’ve known him for more than the five fucking minutes that you have-“
“Exactly! You should know better!” Ben is getting angrier now and you didn't know where all of this was coming from, especially because of how you'd spent the morning and especially because he was acting differently than he had been the past few days. "You care way to much about other people and you shouldn’t! People like him look for people like you. People who are too stupid to know any better. People who as so trusting and innocent that they take everything at face value."
You stare at him with your mouth open, anger and hurt swirling together to form a cold dagger shoved straight into your heart. You didn't understand why he was doing this or why he was getting so angry.
Oh sweetie, you really thought he cared about you? It's all just an act don't you see? The little voice in your head whispered in your ear.
And it made you furious.
"I am not some innocent little girl Ben. I am a grown woman and I don’t have to listen to your toxic Hemingway Code Hero bullshit." You turn back to the sink prepared to wash out the bowl, but Ben grabs on to your wrist and spins you back to look at him.
"You should listen to me! Because caring about people who don't give a shit about you is going to get you fucking killed or worse!" His grip is tight on your wrist, but not enough to bruise. His skin burns against where his hand wraps around your wrist and you worry how much longer you have until Ben goes Nuclear.
You wrench your wrist from his hand.
"At least I have people who care about me! And yeah, maybe I'm a little trusting, but I'd rather be too trusting than push everyone away before I get a chance to know them." You shout back shoving your finger into his bare chest. "You might think that you're some big strong macho man, but if you actually dropped the fucking macho act and acted like you gave a shit maybe there'd be more people willing to be in your life and willing to care about you! Maybe that's why your entire team  collectively said "fuck you" and stabbed you in the back! Maybe that's why Vogelbaum wanted to start from scratch with your fucked up son because they knew you were too much of a asshole to admit that you need someone and didn't have the common decency to give anyone a chance!"
"I don't need anyone." Ben's gaze turns murderous at the mention of Homelander and his old team.
"I think you do, but I think that you try to bury the real you underneath all this bullshit and-"
"You don't know anything about me Petals." Ben growls, taking a step forward so that he's leaning down over you, the air warming with the heat of his anger, a slight glow emanating from the middle of his chest.
The counter is pressed into your back as he pins you there, so differently than the other day you were in the same position.
"You think just because we’ve talked a few times and because I sleep on this fucking couch every night that you know me?" He laughs cruelly.  "I'd rather have no one than be saddled with someone like you who struts around like a fucking tease with stars in her eyes trying to romanticize every single damn person she runs into. It's no wonder you haven't found a man to fuck you, because you're too busy chasing after a stupid fantasy version of a man who doesn't fucking exist and latching on to assholes like your brother who do nothing but use you!" Ben's eyes have shifted into the darkened pits again, the ones that seem to be ready to drag you beneath the raging waves.
"And I'd rather have no one than someone like you who's too insecure about his own masculinity that he feels the need to project a fucked up toxic "together" version of himself and pretends to care about other people to manipulate them into getting what he wants." You spit back, your eyes shifting bright green.
Every plant in your home begins to tremble, the energy from them flooding through your body, strengthening you, merging together as they prepare to bend to your will.
Ben's expression turns murderous, his lips pulling back in a snarl, prepared to no doubt spit back something that he'd be unable to take back, but Darren walks back into the kitchen wearing a fresh pair of clothes.
He's oblivious to the conversation that Ben and you just had and drops his arm over your shoulder. “What did I miss?”
You feel your eyes shift back to normal, but the anger and frustration still war in your chest, beating against your rib cage, begging to be unleashed. Ben doesn’t respond instead he only glares at you.
“Alrighty then.” Darren snorts when neither of you fill the silence, not sensing the tension in the air. "Don't worry there Benny, I'll take good care of her. I always do." You miss the glare that Darren throws Ben over your head.
But just for a second you think that Darren may have heard more of the conversation between Ben and you than he was willing to admit.
Ben's jaw is tight, eyes still blazing with his own anger and annoyance. "Do whatever the fuck you want. It's not like a give a shit what happens to her." He states before he stomps down the hallway and slams the bathroom door so loud that all the dishes in your kitchen cabinets shudder.
You weren't expecting those words to hurt as much as they did, but it felt like you had taken a two by four to the chest.
"What's his problem?" Darren asks.
"I don't know." You grumble, because you didn't.
The shift of conversation from Ben almost acting concerned about you going with Darren to him insulting you was giving you whiplash. You didn't understand why Ben had said those things to you, why he had yelled at you for being "too trusting." You didn't think that you were too trusting. It wasn't weak to love someone or care for someone else, but you guessed that was how Ben saw it. You wondered if it was because of what Countess did to him or if it came from his trust of his team or if it was ingrained in him from when he was a child.
Does he really think I'm too trusting? I mean he saw how long it took me to trust him? Or how long it took me to warm up to him? Or I guess, sort of warm up to him?
"Are you going to change?" Darren presses, looking down at your soft shirt and sleep shorts with a frown. "You should. Maybe wear something different than those overalls though. Kinda want you to make a good impression you know?"
"Yeah. Um. I guess I'll go now." You murmur walking down the hallway. For a moment you pause outside of the bathroom where you know Ben is, and you're unsure what he's doing because you don't hear the water running, before you go into your bedroom.
You stand there for a minute, taking in a soothing breath, but it does little to calm your racing heart. The anger and frustration you felt began to crash over you and you feel frustrated tears begin to trail down your cheeks.
You weren't sure if it was what Ben had yelled at you or what you had yelled at him, all you knew was that you were hurt and you were happy that Ben was going out of town for a few days, because you didn't think that you could look at him again, not without throwing him out of your apartment on his ass.
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A/N: I know, I know, maybe I'm a little addicted to the drama and the angst. And oh my word slow burns are so hard, but I promise that I do have a plan of when the two of them do finally get together and it IS GLORIOUS.
As always thank you so much for reading! If you'd like to be added to the taglist for this series please let me know :)
Taglist:
@roseblue373 @mrsjenniferwinchester @corruptedcruiser @winchesterwild78 @the-super-who-locked-wizard
@criminalyetminimal @52ndstreeet @bitchykittenconnoisseur @anna6307 @libby99hb
@faephoria @possiblyafangirl @jqtaro @quietlybitchy @tinydancer40
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ztarvokwrites · 5 months ago
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How the Monster Trio propose to you
a/n: HI SURPRISE I'M TURNING THESE HEADCANONS INTO A SERIES :3 literally loved writing the last batch of headcanons bc they were so cute so i decided to turn it into a little headcanon series <3 you're welcome! ALSO I LEARNT HOW TO DO GRADIENT TEXT HEHEHE
read part 1 here >> How the Cross Guild propose to you (+ Galdino)
not nsfw! only pure fluff and silliness up ahead!
enjoy and don't forget to reblog if you like it!
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Monkey D. Luffy
If you think Luffy is capable of proposing in a nice, romantic way — then you're wrong.
He has no clue what he's doing but he's just gonna roll with it.
Begs Asks Nami to find a ring in one of her treasure boxes, to which she reluctantly agrees upon hearing his reasoning.
Literally proposes to you the same day, in the middle of a fight with some rookie pirates.
Just straight up grabs you and pulls you to him, protecting you as he asks the question and shoves the ring in your hand.
"Hey, wanna get married?"
You're stunned for a moment at his sheer audacity to propose like that during a battle, but the seriousness on his face gave you the impression that he wasn't kidding.
With a simple nod, you put the ring on your finger and continued fighting beside him.
The rest of the crew looked on, dumbfounded at the scene in front of them as Luffy sent the last pirate flying before turning to you and giving you the biggest, sloppiest kiss ever — dipping you in his arms for extra effect.
Brook was the only one to clap enthusiastically, followed by a very hesitant Jinbei.
Party celebration? Yep.
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Roronoa Zoro
Again, if you think he's going to propose in a romantic way, you're wrong.
Laziest mf when it comes to proposing.
Gets lost when looking for a ring for you on the island you're currently docked at, returns with said ring like five hours later.
Pops the question in the middle of dinner, making Sanji choke on his food.
"Y/N, will you marry me?"
Just so bluntly asks it that you have to do a double-take as Sanji regains himself and yells at him.
"WHAT THE HELL, MOSSHEAD! YOU CAN'T JUST ASK THAT IN THE MIDDLE OF DINNER-"
"I'd love to, Zo." You put the ring on after Zoro slides it across the table.
Sanji is gobsmacked before letting out a shrill, "WHAT THE FUC-"
Zoro lets you watch him work out and also lets you bathe with him as a treat :)
Definitely litters your skin in love-bites though so be careful of what you wear because I feel like Nami and Robin will tease the shit out of you lmao.
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Vinsmoke Sanji
By far the most romantic on the ship, right next to Robin and Jinbei.
After the crew has dinner, he takes you out to the lawn on the ship and makes you your favourite dessert, having Jinbei make sure that Luffy doesn't try stealing any of it.
Sets down a blanket and everything and just watches you with adoration in his eyes as you eat and talk your heart out.
He's quick to conversate, nodding along with what you're saying and chiming in from time to time.
As you two are cuddling together on the blanket, he suddenly gets on one knee in front of you and presents the ring with a soft smile on his face.
"We've been together for a while now and every day with you feels like a dream. I could go on and on with how much I love you, but we'd be here for years if I did," Sanji chuckles, making you giggle in return as tears prick your eyes, making him freeze up in concern. "O-Oh no, are you okay? I didn't say anything wrong, did I? Please don't cry-"
You shut him up by kissing him square on the lips, knocking him over onto is back.
He looked at you with hearts in his eyes as you pulled away, taking the ring with a flustered smile and slipping it onto your finger.
Que him fawning over you for a month straight, kissing you any chance he can get and annoying most of your crewmates.
Luffy and Brook find it hilarious while Robin finds it sweet, though.
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starnote: my cough is getting better! i'm not hacking up a storm at night anymore, now i'm only coughing a teeny tiny bit :P
creds to @/saradika for the star divider!
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romypearl · 6 months ago
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The Queen's Pawn - Regina George/Oblivious!Reader | II
Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven
Summary: Everyone is interested and obsessed with Regina George, after all, she is the queen of the North Shore, so why does Y/N barely look at her? The new student, oblivious to her existence, intrigues and irritates the blonde at the same time. And she doesn't know how to deal with it.
Classification: Fluff
Warnings: Slight internalized homophobia
Word count: +2200
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Unrevised
She's always liked strawberries. Sweet, soft and tickling the roof of mouth. And, coincidentally, every now and then it turns pink.
Like the remnants of ice cream that hang around the corner of Y/N's plump lips.
It's hard to ignore, is what Regina tells herself as she turns away, trying to find a random fixed point to distract her. What proves to be more than impossible, out of the corners of her eyes she watches a little speech about Greek culture, something about Stoicism and a guy called Zeno, she doesn't really know, can't pay attention in the long words, only and exclusively in that spot. How could the Miss Perfect and Retainer of All Knowledge miss something so silly? The blonde huffs and crosses her arms in frustration, how has no one seen this yet? The Plastics seemed indifferent, pretending to pay attention to the matter while typing messages, knowing that their respective partners would do all the work for them and be grateful. She had no such luck. When Mrs. Blake, inspired by the... variety of grades, announced that she was going to pair up for assignments, she was sure that had guaranteed a top mark and a pat on the back for the minimal effort, equivalent to a zero. It would have been like that, if she hadn't made Karen switch papers to have Y/N as partner. After all, if she's so clever could easily get an A for both, but it backfired.
"What the hell kind of word is Eudaimonia?" she finally asks, frowning in confusion.
"Did you pay attention to anything I said?"
"All the things you say are very boring." Regina shrugs and turns so that they're face to face "Just like you."
She waits for some reaction, ever since they started studying about an hour ago Regina teases her and pulls all the strings in search of the right one, the one that will snap her out of the calm state of mind or hit her in some way. Nothing. She's rather unreachable. And, just like the other times, totally ignores the petty comment.
"But..." she hates doing it, every lousy second "Can you tell me what it is?"
"Right! For the last time..." Y/N settles back in chair and takes another spoonful of ice cream to mouth, thinking about how to summarize what she's been trying to say for a long time "Eudaimonia is a term from Greek philosophy that means a state of happiness and inner well-being. In literal translation it is "the state of being inhabited by a good daemon, a good genius"."
"Daemon?" I'm getting more and more lost "Did the Greeks believe in that?"
"No, it's daemons, not demons." the newbie's monotonous tone becomes animated as she starts talking, which makes Regina's heart skip a beat and she doesn't like it "In Greek mythology, they were spiritual beings who occupied an intermediate place between gods and humans, they could be either benevolent or malevolent..."
Then another speech begins, this time she tries to pay attention, but gradually the words blur into disconnected sentences and all she can focus on is how they sound on the girl's lips, how she pronounces them, her tongue curling between pearly teeth, the soft sound and, still, that damn ice cream. She tries to remember the last time she ate one, it seems like months, maybe years. What did it taste like? Overly sweet and sickly? Smooth and addictive? Why did her mother have to interrupt them and offer a dozen options? And why did she have to choose just that? Tempting. Lovely. Irresistible.
Y/N gasps in surprise and freezes in place as she suddenly feels something soft pressed against the corner of her mouth, thumb rubbing something that is apparently resisting coming out and her eyes meet sky blue irises, staring at her obstinately. The touch is long, almost purposeful, and they don't realize they're holding breath, unaware of their surroundings, too caught up in each other to notice the curious gazes of the two lackeys.
To everyone's surprise, including her own, Regina rubs the stain, picking up some of the gloss in the process, and brings to her lips, sucking it off. She has to hold back a groan and fight against her body to keep composure, pretending not to be shaken by her own impulsive, totally thoughtless, act.
"If my face was so dirty, you could simply have warned me." she says after a long, thoughtful pause, unable to find any conceivable reason except that "But I appreciate your gesture, it was really kind."
Kind? Has anyone, at any time in life, used that word to refer to her? Maybe her dad, once, just after Kylie was born and before they lost control completely. But there was nothing kind about what she had done, quite the opposite.
"Do you want more?" the blonde points to the almost empty bowl, anxious to mask the situation quickly.
"No, thanks!"
"How about Doritos?"
"I think I've eaten too much junk food today, it can't be good for me." Y/N jokes and opens a big smile, making cheeks stand out along with dimples that are almost imperceptible to inattentive eyes.
"We have strawberries." she says immediately, not stopping to think about those soft lips around the red fruit. When Gretchen looks at her in confusion and frowns, trying to subtly point, the plan comes back to mind and she decides to put it into practice "Also blueberries, raspberries, blackberries. Whatever you like, sweetie."
"You really like berries."
"You can't blame me..." Regina leans on the table, one hand on chin, long eyelashes batting slowly and a smirk, the same one that has won over every boy she's ever wanted "When is your color."
"What do you mean?" the other asked, without even looking up from the papers, missing all the theatrics.
"Red is your color..."
"My favorite color is yellow." she finally abandons the notes, only to find George defeated in front of her, about to slam her head on the glass table to get out of this nightmare "Can I use your bathroom?"
"Of course!" Regina snorts and points towards the corridor "Second door on the right, don't get lost."
Secretly, George hopes, wishes, that she really would get lost so that she could finally have the opportunity to guide her through something, or simply talk to her without two ticks on their backs. When she wants to, Gretchen can be very... clingy and insistent, often taking the brunette as a side effect, not unexpected considering how insecure she is about herself and the stability of her position in the hierarchy of North Shore, a drone that takes pride of function. Most of the time it's acceptable, in fact her presence barely matters to the queen bee in ordinary situations, but now all she wants is for the two of them to disappear at the snap of a finger.
"Karen, Gretchen, I need you to do me a favor." Regina is direct, in a casual tone.
"Of course! What do you need?" Wieners replies promptly, always eager to please.
"Can you go to the convenience store and get some Redbulls?" she smiles and stands up, taking one of the credit cards out of the purse, tossing it for them to take "All the flavors you can find."
"Now?"
"Yes, now. And get some more ice cream too."
They exchange glances, but don't dare deny Regina anything, even if it means half an hour's walk "Right, we're going."
The pair get up and leave quickly, holding their tongues to avoid questioning her about the sudden request, nor about what seems to be an interest in the newbie. Right from the first day, they listed her as a loser, with no social sense and who no one would have the courage to touch without a ten-foot pole, so they didn't understand why she insisted on winning her over. And they had no idea that she would have her as a partner in history and now visiting the George mansion.
Regina smiles triumphantly. The living room is finally quiet and she can turn her attention completely to the plan, she didn't feel shy or pressured to succeed around them, but didn't have all the attention from Y/N as she can have without silly questions and random celebrity gossip. It's the perfect moment.
She stares at herself in the mirror above the fireplace and fixes the smallest details of appearance so that she looks flawless.
"Gina!" her mother calls out from the kitchen, walking briskly into the room, and she rolls her eyes, before feeling blood run cold at the sight of her companion "What a adorable girl! She even offered to help me in the kitchen."
"Mom..." she mutters between teeth, trying to keep composed as her mother steps forward, arms around Y/N's shoulders "She's here to study."
"Oh, of course, of course! Studying is important." June says with a mischievous smile and finally lets her go "Studying what? Human anatomy?" and winks suggestively at her daughter, causing a wave of embarrassment and annoyance.
"Mom!" Regina exclaims, face burning with embarrassment, hoping that the girl won't pay any attention to her mother. At least she didn't offer condoms like last time, which didn't embarrass her like it does now "It's history."
"And philosophy." Y/N adds.
"A lot less interesting, but still important." the woman continues, not letting herself be put down, and turns to the visitor "Darling, would you like something to drink? Juice? Lemonade? More ice cream?"
Y/N, not at all affected by the expansive and slightly invasive personality, nods and opens a shy smile "A juice would be great, thank you."
"Perfect!" June hurries off to the kitchen, but not before taking one last meaningful look at her firstborn, who blushes visibly.
Regina sighs heavily and sits down at the table, this time next to her classmate, trying to regain control of the situation.
"Sorry about that. Sometimes my mom is a bit much."
"It's okay!" Y/N replies, settling into the soft chair, and goes back to concentrating on the notes scattered across the surface. In an almost imperceptible movement, she adjusts her glasses, which the blonde hadn't even noticed were resting on the top of head, and puts them on face, completely transforming her appearance "You're lucky."
It's Regina's turn to gasp, barely feeling the surprised sound escape between her lips. She'd deny it to anyone who asked if she thought the girl was beautiful, deny it to death, but there's something differently captivating that prevents her from lying now. The lenses enhance the Y/E/C eyes, making them more penetrating, as if she could see into the soul through them. The sight makes the older's heart race and her palms sweat, having to concentrate not to let it show, let alone appear enchanted.
"Do you wear glasses?"
"Yes, for years, but I was trying to get used to contact lenses." the newbie says, adjusting the frame correctly, sighing with relief "Which turned out to be a disaster."
"They look... good on you." she comments, trying to sound casual and not too anxious, failing miserably as she stares "Your eyes are beautiful."
"Thank you!" Y/N finally lifts her face and catches the queen bee with a simple glance behind the lens along with the amused smile, rare occasion, the same one Janis gets "But they don't work."
Regina laughs at the witty response, finding her perspicacity and humor interesting, very different from what surrounds her in everyday life. She's not afraid to make a joke about herself, when any of the trio would rather fight a bear than do such a thing, making themselves the material for silly and light-hearted jokes. Y/N seems to be completely oblivious to the effect she is causing, Regina's flushed cheeks being nothing more than the result of the warm weather, the friendly laughter aimed at everyone and the hospitality something routine, perhaps an apology for the not so pleasant first meeting. All the compliments, overly embellished and full of hidden intentions, simple acts of politeness, so she remains unaffected and continues to read the manuscripts, without giving the blonde what she so desperately wants.
"You know, the text isn't going to write itself." she laughs and points to the long-forgotten laptop "And I've already made it clear that I'm not going to do everything myself."
With a disbelieving nod, Regina goes back to work, trying to ignore the signals her own body gives off in the presence of the other. It's hard not to be affected by the sweet perfume emanating from inviting skin, the taste of ice cream she wants to try again, the way she seems so at ease and unimpressed in her house, lips puckering as she encounters a paragraph incomprehensible at first reading and now pushing up the stubborn glasses that insist on slipping down her nose. God, all of this is messing with Regina's head in a way she can't explain, there are no plans that could infiltrate all the sinful thoughts that invade her with this privileged view.
She forces herself to concentrate on the task in hand, which tingles as she feels their arms lightly touching, but a part of her desperately craves more of these moments of closeness, even if it means ignoring the voice of reason that screams in her mind that she's not a dyke and wouldn't be for Y/N. It's just a fucking plan. Nothing more than that.
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