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tojikai · 8 months

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Sundered 9: RESOLVE

Pairing: Gojo x reader

Genre: Angst

tags/cw: angst, babydaddy!gojo, babymomma!reader, motherhood, insecurities, arguments, mentions of abortion

word count: 7.8k

a/n: sorry, it took so long. i had problems lol mb

You can’t remember at what point everything started going right but you’re not complaining.

“I don’t think I can continue like this. I don’t think we should continue like this.”

“Like what?” You looked up at him, a look of worry filling your wide eyes. He stared down at you with an expression you can’t read. You felt his hands trail beside you, before cupping your cheeks, kissing your lips softly. “Toji, was I not-” And he was quick to quell you

“No, Y/N. It’s not on you, stop putting everything on yourself, baby.” He hates that the first thing you think when something fails is your fault. He hates that he’s making you feel like you’re the only one who needs to put in the work.

After your arguments, Toji’s been thinking that his emphasis on how you’re being pointlessly jealous of a dead person is why you think you’re the only one who has to make big adjustments. That’s probably why you think you have to put in the most effort to make this work.

“Then, what is it? I thought we were doing well, Toji.” The worried look on your face mixed with frustration as you took a step back from him, rubbing your face with your hands. “We are doing well, Y/N.” He was firm with his answer, and you know he’s telling the truth. But why? “We work so well together. But this isn’t the relationship we deserve.” He sighed.

“That doesn’t make sense, Toji.” You pursed your lips, emotions getting stronger. “If we work so well together, then how can you say that this isn’t what we deserve?” You sat on the bed, patiently waiting for an answer.

“We deserve to be in a relationship where we don’t have to remind ourselves how we should be constantly.” Toji mentally cursed himself for putting you in such a situation early in the morning but he doesn’t think he could sleep another peaceful night with everything in his mind.

“Relationships are things that flow naturally, Y/N. You do not do things just because you have to, or just because somebody told you to do it. You shouldn’t feel like you have to remind yourself what to do.” He breathed heavily, sounding as if he’d been practicing this in his head for a while now. “Is that how you feel with me?” You tried him, only to get the question back.

“Is that not how you feel with me?” Your silence answered his question. There was a pool of hot liquid in your eyes that you wouldn’t allow to fall. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Think of the strain that you’ve been putting on yourself, Y/N. Tell me you had not once thought of letting it all go even just for a second.”

A sob erupted from your throat; one that you didn’t see coming. It’s a thought you always choose to ignore because you really want to try hard for him, for this thing to work. Now, you understand when they say that sometimes it’s more painful to hold on than to let go.

As if getting burnt by holding on to a rope too tightly, hoping that the other end would stop pulling away.

But right now, Toji’s slowly being torn away from you. And you can’t do anything about this unbearable pain that feels like it could tear you apart; limb for limb. You realize that even if he doesn’t pull away, you’d still end up being hurt for this rope that you are holding on to is too far out of your reach.

“Toji… I don’t know, I thought I found something good with you. And now it just felt like I’m losing all of it like I’m losing—” Toji quickly shushed you, hugging you ever so tightly to him and it scared you. It almost felt like he was letting you memorize the comfort of his body against yours because this was the last time you’d be feeling it.

“You’re not losing me, love.” He consoled you and though, you can’t express it, the words brought you comfort. “I just don’t think we’re meant to be in this setup but that doesn’t mean you’re losing me.” And just like that, the pain was back again.

“Do I not deserve it?” You asked him, almost flinching at your words when you promised yourself you’d never ask anyone that. Toji sighed, taking both of your hands and bringing them to his lips. “Not this. You deserve more than this. You deserve to be genuinely happy without sacrificing anything, without feeling spent.”

You can’t remember, or more like you chose not to carve into your memory how that day ended. The only image you can see in your head is how he cuddled you to sleep, woke you up to eat with him and the kids, and went home. You remember him saying that they could always visit. And you hated yourself for doubting him.

“Mama, look it.” You heard your baby talking to you as she showed you the screen of your phone. It was Toji. It surprised you that you weren’t crying, or hurting as much as you thought you would. Maybe it’s because of the reassurance that you received from him.

And it’s not something like hoping that you’d be back together again but it’s more of a security that you didn’t just lose such a good man in your life; even as a friend. “Yeah?” You answered, pulling your toddler closer to you just as she started to move near the edge of the bed. “Just wanna know how you're doing.”

You chuckled, finding it funny that your now ex is calling you, indirectly checking if you’re still crying. It’s normal for him to expect that kind of thing but the difference between this and other breakups is that you actually ended on good terms and with valid reasons, seeking only the best for each other.

“I am a bit ok, surprisingly.” You answered, you heard a sigh from the other end of the line and a tiny laugh from Megumi, probably watching something on his iPad. You looked at your daughter, thinking if she’ll start looking for her little friend tomorrow and how you’re going to handle that.

“I’m sorry.” You rubbed your eyes, humming at his words. “This is for the best, I guess.” You spoke, remembering how you used to tell that to yourself when you found out that Satoru got himself a new girlfriend; throwing all his promises out the window and choosing to move forward away from you.

“You know Yui can still come over for play dates, right?” He spoke as if reading your mind. Toji knows of your concern about this matter as you expressed it earlier to him. Yui has spent a lot of time with Megumi and you know how she is with him because he’s her real first close friend.

“I won’t mind if she’ll be dropped off by Satoruf, he could even accompany her with you guys. I won’t mind, really. I know Megumi will ask for Yui.” He laughed lightly, patiently waiting for your answer, only to receive a hum.

“Y/N, you’re free to make decisions now—” You know that he’s talking about your reconciliation with Satoru but to be very honest, that’s not in your mind right now. You might be yearning for that whole family, and you can see Satoru’s progress but that doesn’t mean you can just bounce back like that.

“I don’t know, that’s not how I really feel, I think I should focus on building myself as an independent person for now.” You pursed your lips and you could just imagine him nodding his head to your words. “It’ll happen if it’s meant to happen.” You know that Yui needs her father, and you know that if she could talk to you right now, she’d probably wish for the two of you to be together with her.

But you want to know if this thing you’re feeling for Satoru is real or if it’s only because you longed to give your daughter that fulfillment. It’s not a bad thing to want that for her but you don’t know if you can handle another heartbreak for rushing things. “I’ll just let things be for now.” You added, sighing deeply.

The conversation with Toji went on for a couple of minutes before you said your goodbyes. You know it won’t be like this every night and that makes your chest squeeze but it’d only feel like forcing things if you asked him for that. You’ll move forward. Like you always do. Your child is growing and maybe it’s about time she learns something valuable from you.

—---------------------------------------

“Da!” The little girl squealed as her father entered your apartment. She got up and ran to him, almost tripping on one of her toys. “Careful. I’m not going away.” He picked her up, kissing her cheek. You closed the door behind you, rushing to kick away the things on the floor. It’s still a bit messy because you’re trying to get her ready for the day before you head to work.

“You’re early.” You spoke to him, watching them sit on the couch. “I’m…uh, cooking something. Have you had breakfast?” You bite your top lip as you turn away from them. “I had coffee.” Yui was trying to put a clip on his hair, laughing when she thought she got it done. “Come, eat with us, then.” You picked your daughter up, heading to the kitchen.

“Mama! ‘Gumi?” You put her in her chair, sighing lightly at the mention of her playmate. It has been almost three weeks and you still haven’t told Satoru about what happened with Toji and you. He’s not asking either, but you can tell he’s curious, eyeing you as he enters the small kitchen.

“He’s at daycare. Maybe next week, when Mama’s not busy, alright?” You spoke, placing the food in front of her, and pressing on the plate to make sure that it was stuck on the surface. “Haven’t seen them around.” Satoru cleared his throat, playing it cool as he didn’t want to seem like he was intruding into your “love life.”

“They, uh, they won’t be around so much anymore.” You put the plates on the table, tucking a hair behind your ear as you turned. Satoru pursed his lips, not wanting to pry any longer but the next sentence made his eyebrows raise. “We kinda…Toji and I broke up. So, if not for the kids, we won’t-“

“Since when?” If it was before Satoru would probably be thinking about how this is a chance for him but right now, as he sat on that kitchen table, all he could feel was worry. He thinks that you really love Toji and he became your rock during the times when your baby daddy’s acting up.

“Almost three weeks ago. It’s, uh, nothing too heavy. The relationship just became too much.” Satoru doesn’t know if it’s right for him to say “sorry.” He’s scared that it might break you and he doesn’t want to see you cry again.

He made you cry many times and he hated himself for it. He can’t help but feel like any anger he might harbor towards Toji would be… invalid. “I didn't think dating when you both already have kids would be so different than when you don’t.” You chuckled half-heartedly.

“We just don’t think it could stand in the long run, so…” You shrugged, finally sitting down after you placed the glass pitcher on the table. You peeked at Satoru, attempting to read the expression on his face.

“Look, I know Yui’s always been our priority but if you need a bit of time for yourself, you know you can leave Yui with me.” He cracked his knuckles, not sure of how to help you with this. “You should take a break from work, if you think that’s what you need, I will-“ You placed a hand on his arm, stopping him.

There’s not much he can offer that wouldn’t make it look like he’s trying to take advantage of the situation. That’s the last thing he wants you to think. He thought you were a bit gloomy during the past couple of weeks and assumed it was just a lover’s quarrel or something.

“Thanks. But it’s alright. We’re good, we’re just…not dating anymore.” You let out a laugh, retracting your hand away as you reached for the towel to wipe your daughter’s food-stained cheek. “Megumi and Yui still play together, I mean they’re besties now, right?” Yui giggled at the mention of her friend.

“That’s nice, he’s her first friend.” Satoru smiled genuinely. Aside from Yui’s occasional babbles, Satoru and you ate in silence. Eating together at your home is beginning to become a normal, regular thing now. And for some reason, it doesn’t worry you anymore.

Getting Yui ready took a bit more time than it should have when she wanted her Dad to pick her clothes. Of course, none of you could say no. You quickly brought out your phone to take a photo of her and her father, holding hands as they stood before the clothes she took out of her drawer.

“It’s chilly. You can’t wear that.” You commented on the shirt she brought out. With a pout on her lips, she continued to pull on her clothes. “We’ll pair it with something. Yeah?” Satoru consoled her, earning a smile from the little girl. “I’ll make the two of you fold all of that.” You joked before turning to pick up a few scattered clothes.

You checked her bag one last time, counting all the things she needed in your mind. You can hear her laughing as Satoru struggles to put on her boots. She is the happiest when he’s in the house. You fear that she’ll soon start asking about why her father lives in a different house, unlike most kids.

“You don’t have to worry so much if she left something. We’ll probably be here tomorrow, you know how she is.” Satoru laughed, lifting the child. It’s true that even during the days when she’s supposed to be with her dad, she still asks him to see you. There was one time when they showed up at your work and everybody thought that you’re back together.

“It could be something important.” You sighed, leaning in to give your daughter a kiss. “Be good.” She nodded her head, wiggling her brows in the process, knowing that it never fails to make you laugh. Satoru can’t help but stare, statued by how close you are to each other; paralyzed by the fact that this could’ve been better if he never did what he did.

“Don’t forget the face creams at night, please.” You reminded him, stepping away as you locked eyes. “Of course.” He took the bag, walking towards the door with you trailing closely behind them. “Buh-bye!” She waved at you from her car seat. You watched as Satoru made sure it was locked before closing the door behind him.

“See you in a few days, Mama.” He spoke playfully, and you know that he’s just trying to say it for your daughter but it made your heart swell for some reason, a blush forcing its way to your cheek. This has been happening a lot with him, even when you were still with Toji. You tried to convince yourself that you were just “caught off guard.”

Work kept you busy for the whole day. It wasn’t long until you found yourself on your couch, smiling at the video Satoru sent you. Yui was holding an elephant bowl full of ice cream, focused on the movie playing on the screen. Their matching lilac pajamas made everything more adorable. After sending a reply, you put your phone down.

Days and weeks went by fast. Megumi and Yui played at the park together last week. You thought it’d be awkward but it was pretty much the same with Toji minus the intimacy. He was still chill to be with and he was still very caring towards you. And you admired him for all of it.

“I ran into them at the mall once. I think they went toy shopping.” He spoke, looking over at the kids as they struggled to understand how to make the seesaw work on their own. “Oh yeah, he mentioned that one time.” You replied, before giving a warning to your daughter who’s now so ready to climb the metal board.

Your mind went back to the image of Satoru coming in with boxes and bags, and a little kid trailing behind him, holding on to the hem of his jacket. He couldn’t even carry her because of everything but she was overjoyed, showing off her new stuff.

“You can’t leave all that here. Her room isn’t big, Satoru.” You sighed, picking your daughter up, “You already have so many toys.” You reminded her but she wasn’t listening at all. “It’s alright, I’ll bring them to my house,” Satoru spoke as he put them on the couch.

Sometimes you wonder if you’ll ever save up enough to get a bigger space for you and Yui. Satoru once brought it up, offering help but you don’t want that. You’re not together, so to you, being able to provide and improve on your own for your daughter is a goal. You trust that things’ll get better for you, even if you’re alone.

“You two working it out?” Toji's voice brought you out of your memory. You looked at him for a couple of seconds, and he just stared back at you, like he just asked the most normal question an ex could ask. “N-no. He’s not even trying, I mean he never even explicitly tried to show any hint. I doubt that any of us are thinking about that right now.” You rambled and he just nodded.

You didn’t mean to blurt out something like that so casually. But in all honesty, that made you more comfortable and less tense about all of this. He doesn’t make you feel awkward at all. He doesn’t make you feel like you’re stuck in your past with him. It’s almost as if he’s just been a friend, a very close one, all this time.

There was a moment of easy silence between the two of you. You can only hear the noises from the other kids and the two in front of you. But it wasn’t long until it was broken by Toji. “He loves you, you know?” You feel like even the sound of your breaths paused. “I’m not saying that you should force yourself to try again with him. I just want you to know that Satoru genuinely loves you.”

Thinking about it now, you realize that you and Toji never really talked like this about your relationship with Satoru before. It’s always just the problems and the past that you always claimed to be only bitter memories now.

Toji leaned back on the chair, not caring if you were answering or not. He’s good at sensing the atmosphere, and you’re not in a way bothered by the topic. You were surprised to hear it from him, of course, but you don’t feel troubled at all.

“Satoru and I had a talk once, just the two of us. I was expecting less from him due to how he treated you before.” He crossed his arms on his chest, eyes wandering as he recalled, “But he was so sure with his words, I was kind of taken aback.” He chuckled, and you wondered what his exact words were.

“No offense, but I feel like that was the only time I really looked at him as a man; a grown man.” He laughed, shaking his head in amusement. “I know 'cause I’ve been there.” He nodded, sounding softer and you just know who he’s thinking about. “The resolve; the determination in him even when he knows that it’s impossible.”

“He has to work on a lot of things. He’s got so much to reflect on.” You sighed, unsure of how to react, not because you rejected the information but because it got your heart drumming in your chest. “We gotta grow as individuals. And if we’re meant to be together, it’s…it’ll happen on its own.” You chuckled, swallowing dryly.

You don’t know if that scares you or excites you for the future. But you know that it’s gonna be so much better than before.

—---------------------------------------

6 Months Later

“Mama why? Mama why?” You heard Satoru laugh loudly at your daughter's words. She’s been repeating the same words over and over since you started getting her ready. Her hair was up extra nice today and she’s staring at her gown hanging near the dresser.

“Mama whats go on? Huh, Mama?” She asked again, sending Satoru into another fit of laughter. “Baby, I’ve been saying. It’s Yui Day today. Your birthday.” You smiled at her kindly, securing the cute hair clips on her head. “I don’t think she’s fully taken any of this in.” Satoru sat on her bed, looking at the two of you.

Her grandfather volunteered to take care of the preparations at Satoru’s house. The helpers arrived early in the morning and Satoru left him there to pick the two of you up and to help get his little girl ready. You’re still in your house clothes and you’re not even a step closer to being ready.

“Go take a shower, I got her.” Satoru arrived just as you were fixing Yui’s hair. “Okay, the shoes are over there. Put the headband on after the dress so it won’t mess up her hair.” You reminded him as you stood up. “Yes, Ma’am.” The little girl jumped towards him pointing at her dress. You stepped out and got ready as quickly as you can.

You were supposed to wear the dress you bought the other week. It wasn’t much and you were worried that it might not look that good, especially with the guests that will come over. You didn’t want to look cheap but you wanted to save so you went for something that goes in the middle.

To your surprise, when Satoru brought Yui’s gown and shoes, he got another set with him. You thought it was for some outfit change but he soon revealed, albeit shyly, that he thought the dress matched the theme of your daughter’s party so he got it for you. It was a designer dress and a pair of shoes.

“I’d…I’ll pay for this, alright? I can’t just—” He cut you off with a close-lipped smile and a gentle sight. “Y/N, I know it’s hard to accept this but I already had lots of shortcomings with you and Yui. This doesn’t mean anything, don’t worry. I’m not trying to, you know, I just want you to feel your best during our daughter’s birthday.” He spoke, nervousness still clear in his voice.

“B-but you’re free to decline it if you don’t feel comfortable, sorry, I can take it back to the—” This time you cut him off with a laugh, “I’m sorry this is just so… expensive. I don’t know how to feel if I just openly accept it from you.” You placed the box on the table behind you, sitting down in hopes of changing the atmosphere.

“Okay, then…just consider this as a gift since I, uh, failed to get you one on your last birthday.” He breathed out the last part as if it was a heavy feeling in his chest that he couldn’t push past his lips. It isn’t as heavy as it was to you though.

Your last birthday was painful to remember, probably the worst one you had ever since you were born even if you never had a big celebration your whole life aside from when you were with Satoru. Last year, your birthday was on the same day as Satoru’s co-parenting schedule.

That time you were hoping that he and Yui would celebrate it with you. But that morning, he came in with Naomi. With hickeys peeking from his jacket, messy hair, and swollen lips, they picked Yui up. You remember your daughter babbling about “Mama day” in a much less understood baby talk that Naomi still caught.

“Oh, is it your birthday? She said ‘mama day’, right?” Her bright eyes shined at you, dimples showing as she smiled but it didn’t lessen the ache in your chest. “Oh, sorry. Happy birthday.” Satoru spoke, proceeding to take his daughter’s belongings. “We should’ve picked Yui up in the afternoon so, they could spend time together.” She suggested, laughing awkwardly.

“What time did you book the Children’s Museum trip?” Satoru halted, his back turned to you. You were about to interrupt, afraid that you were starting to look too pitiful for the lovebirds in front of you and your child. “It starts at 10:00.” She spoke, adjusting the toddler on her hip. “It’s 9:19.” Satoru read his watch, biting his lips with his eyebrows scrunched together.

“We can’t really leave her now, the Children’s Museum isn’t open every day. You can…uh—” He tried to think, turning to you but you can’t take it anymore. “N-no. It’s alright. You—Yui have fun, baby, alright? We’ll go out when you’re back home.” You waved at the child and her smile soothed you. Almost.

“Happy birthday, Y/N, sorry.” Naomi smiled, avoiding your eyes and you hated it. You hated that she felt sorry for you. You hated that they felt sorry for you. “Enjoy your day.” She added, turning around as she urged your daughter to wave again. “We’ll get going, sorry again. Happy birthday.” He spoke lowly, earning a fake smile and a nod from you.

You closed the door before you could even see him put his hand on her waist and guide them to his car. It was supposed to be. That should be the three of you. You wiped the stray tear that fell from your eyes with the back of your hand. That day, you stayed at home, slept until your mother came and brought food, and refused to tell her the story.

That night you stayed awake, wondering how many falls a heart can take before it turns to dust, never to be recovered again.

“Done?” Satoru’s voice brought you back to reality. Your eyes flickered to the reflection of the door in the mirror. You were about to respond when the door burst open, and your child trudged in, almost falling as she squealed. “Mama! Pretty Mama!” She pulled at her skirt, turning. “Wow, lovely. You’re so beautiful, baby!” You cooed at her as she hugged your robe-covered waist.

“Dada put this. Dada! This!” You can tell how excited she is by how she shows off everything; from her headband to her anklets and shoes. She even shows it to her father even if he’s the one who dressed her up. You chuckled in amusement, all the pain numbed as your eyes focused on the present.

You looked over at Satoru who tries to look everywhere but you. Your hair’s still wet from the shower, and you’re still in your robe, all bare underneath and you can’t believe it took you this long to realize that. “You’re so pretty, how about we take pictures downstairs? Or with your toys?” He tried to convince her, wanting to give you time to dress up.

“Mama come!” She pulls at you, “Mama has to wear her pretty dress too, so you’ll be twins.” Satoru quickly picked her up, smiling at you as her daughter babbled excitedly, allowing him to distract her as he closed the door behind them. You turned to look at yourself in the mirror once more, drying your hair quietly.

Thinking back on what Toji said, you can’t just believe them after everything Satoru has done.

—---------------------------------------

You can feel Satoru’s light touch as the three of you pose for the final picture of the day before the party ends. It has been such a long day. Yui happily walked around, clapping at the guests when they sang her a birthday song; quite the opposite of what you thought would happen. You and Satoru received a lot of statements and questions as you were greeting the visitors too.

“Oh, you’re back together again, that’s great!” His aunt said to which he quickly answered with a chuckle, “I’d love that, but no.” You smiled at the old lady, thankful for the understanding face rather than pushing.

“I knew you’d be back to Y/N!” His cousin winked at you, raising a fist bump which you couldn’t really reject. Satoru nodded his head, glancing at you awkwardly at how loud the man was being “When did you guys get back together?” He elbowed him like he was so sure of the information.

“We’re not…really back together. We’re…This is co-parenting.” Satoru took Yui from you. “Say hi.” And that’s how he changed that topic. He met Yui once when she was a baby and to say that he was mesmerized by how much she looked like Satoru now is an understatement. “How did you manage to turn yourself into a little girl.” He and Satoru laughed and you excused yourself to greet some of your relatives who attended.

“I would be mad but, oh well, anything that makes that little doll happy.” Your grandma sighed, smiling as she hugged you. “We’re not back together. I’ll bring her here in a bit.” You muttered, pulling at your dress. “That’s a nice dress you have, it looks expensive, honey.” Your mother complimented.

“Yeah, Satoru got it…f-for me. So, uh, we could match the theme. He organized this.” You smiled nervously, worried at how her eyebrows raised. “I’ll be back, Mom.” You added with a little wave before going back to Satoru and Yui who were now looking at you in distress as she got taken by Satoru’s friend.

“Don’t take him back.” was Shoko’s first words to you as you reached them, making the whole table and you laugh. “Stop it.” Satoru grunted, “Give me my kid back if you’re going to be like that.” He rolled his eyes playfully before meeting yours. “He’s still far from that.” You replied, making them laugh again. Satoru knows that you aren’t joking at all.

It’s funny how the people around you have different views regarding reconciliation with him. And you, you don’t want to think of it. Or more like you’re scared to think of it.

Because you fear that deep in your heart, you still yearn for all of it.

“Yui!” A voice called and when you turned around it was Megumi in his cut little outfit that almost matched Yui’s dress. “Oh gosh, you’re so cute ‘Gumi!” You cooed, hugging the little boy. He would look down at his shirt and back at you as if to show it off. Your eyes wandered around for Toji and you found him speaking to your Mother. You smiled as he waved at you.

“I didn’t see you guys come in.” You spoke as you got close to them. “Sorry, we’re a bit late. He wanted to get another gift.” Toji laughed, nodding at Megumi’s direction who was now walking towards your table with Satoru and Yui. “Thanks for coming.” Satoru encouraged, a little awkwardly.

“Megumi wouldn’t miss his best friend’s birthday.” Toji reached over to fix his son's clothes. You stayed for a bit to talk with Toji and your mom, Satoru took the kids to the photo booth to play with the other kids at the party.

And now you’re walking the last few of the helpers out the door, thanking them for the smooth flow of the event. Yui already fell asleep on Satoru’s shoulder, just like her little friend. Toji went home with a sleepy Megumi who refused to get carried by his dad and insisted on walking despite the constant stumbling.

Thanking Satoru’s Dad before he heads home, he gives the two of you a piece of advice: “I hope you two are not thinking too much of what to do with what you have.” You both didn’t know what to say. You don’t even get it at first but when he spoke again, it all made sense.

“It will happen if it’s meant to happen. Like before. When you were blessed with this angel.” He softly stroked Yui’s cheek, chuckling when her nose twitched. “Well, that’s all. You’re both doing just great. Satoru, stop worrying about the things with your mom. Leave that to me.” With that, he bid goodbye and left.

You had to stop yourself from being too curious about what happened with Satoru and his mother. All that you know is that he broke up with Naomi and you thought that she probably tried to stop him, of course. What’s bugging you is the fact that his father had to comfort him about it. Would it be too much to ask?

“Let’s go inside.” He ushered, adjusting his daughter in his arms and patting her head as she wiggled a little before going back to sleep. “I’m glad we hired helpers. I don’t think I can handle cleaning after all of that.” He laughed, carefully sitting on the couch. “I don’t know how celebrities do meet and greets. I feel so drained.” You agreed sitting down on the loveseat.

“I can’t believe she’s three now. It’s like she was still so tiny a few months ago.” His whispers were low; gentle. You could hear all the love in his voice and the tired yet contented look on his face as he gazed lovingly at his child. She could be getting a sibling now, but you fucked around. You caught yourself thinking, biting your lip at the realization of how silly you’re being.

After a short conversation, Satoru decided to put her in her bed. You’re sure that she’ll be awake in an hour or two. You agreed to stay the night here since you considered that Yui might want to open her gifts by the end of the party. She already opened some earlier due to curiosity but got distracted multiple times and ended up forgetting about them.

“Oh, shit.” You whispered, rummaging through the baby bag with her feet on your lap. You were trying to clean her a little but you ran out of wipes and you forgot to put the extra pack due to the rush this early morning. You carefully placed her feet down to get up and find Satoru. You saw him in his front yard, putting away some things that had been used earlier.

“Does she have wet wipes here? The one in her bag ran out.” You asked him, stepping out of the house. “Yeah, it’s in my bedside drawer, do you mind getting it?” He spoke, carrying a foldable table to the other end of the yard, “Okay.” You found his bedroom door ajar and let yourself in.

Did he specify which one? There are two bedside tables. You went to the closest one, opening the first drawer. You knew you were looking for the wipes and that’s why you came here, you mentally noted that anything in here does not concern you and thus, must not be meddled with.

But right now you’re staring at the brown envelope with a hospital address and a name with the “MD, OB-GYN” title plastered on it. You don’t have to have a degree to understand that. You can feel your heart slowly picking up a pace as you think of all the possible meanings of it.

Was Naomi pregnant and they decided to abort it? Did Satoru make her do it? What if he made her do it because of the fact that he still wants to be with you? You can’t really do anything if that’s why but it makes you feel…accountable. Is this why they broke up on bad terms that even his mother doesn’t want to see him anymore?

The envelope was staring back at you and you can’t help but feel like touching it; opening it. You can get your answer right now if you just read what’s inside this quickly. You won’t have to think about all of this anymore. The voice in your head silenced the approaching footsteps and the sound of Satoru’s voice calling your name.

A shadow was cast upon you and the paper. You looked up to see Satoru staring at the envelope with slightly wide eyes. He quickly closed the cabinet, swallowing as he avoided your eyes. “Sorry, I forgot to mention.” He moved away to get the wipes from the other drawer. “It-it’s here.” He walked quickly, urging you to get moving. “Let’s go before she wakes up—”

“What was that, Satoru?” You don’t care how this made you sound as you grabbed his arm preventing him from leaving the room. He wouldn’t have reacted that way; he wouldn’t have disregarded the matter if it wasn’t something to be hidden. Why did he look so alarmed that you saw it? Like you’re not supposed to know about it.

“It was an old test, I forgot to throw it away.” He rasped, staring at your lips; staring everywhere but your eyes. “I know how to read. The date it was delivered shouldn’t be far from the day the test was done, right?” You half blinked, breathing in as you told yourself to calm down. You don’t know how you’d feel if he told you that’s none of your business.

“Was Naomi pregnant when you broke up with her?” Your voice was a bit more steady, “No.” He sounded small and you could tell that whatever was going on inside his head wasn’t easy to verbalize. “Then, what’s there to hide about it?” You don’t need him to tell you, you could tell that you weren’t supposed to see that.

“I fear that I might be getting a little too overconfident about your feelings for me but—” You lowered your eyes, embarrassed at how that sounded and a bit thankful for being cut off. “She was never pregnant. Sh-she tried…while I was intoxicated. I got her examined.” Satoru rambled, obviously triggered by your words.

“She what?” You looked at him, brows furrowed and eyes wide, finding it hard to believe the assumption in your head. “I got drunk. She…she tried to…” He walked towards that drawer, pulling out the envelope and the paper inside.

“Y/N, read it. I couldn't… I didn’t want to tell you. I didn’t want to vent about this to you because that’s all I’ve been doing, I just want to give you all the good now. I’ll try, Y/N, I promise.” At this point, you don’t even know what he’s trying to explain to you but the welling tears in his eyes and the coldness of his fingers against your skin was enough to pull you to him.

The papers were dropped to the floor as you held him to you. His head was bowed down as he cried on your shoulder as if this was the first day he was allowed to cry about this; as if this was the first time he could hold on to someone while the fear, anger, and shame tore him to pieces.

He held onto you as he sobbed his heart out after holding it all in for so long.

He doesn’t deserve this. No matter what he did or said, Satoru doesn’t deserve this. After everything, you can see how much he’s trying. Despite not being promised anything, he’s giving his all. It wouldn’t be easy to forget and it won’t be easy to trust. But the love you feel for this man comes too naturally to be contained.

“You didn’t deserve that…” You hushed him, hearing him blame himself was shattering. Does his mother know? Why did she disappear as well? What really happened? “Satoru, what happened with your Mom?” His breath hitches. The grown man in the room is now in the form of a child, looking for a hand to hold.

“She knew about it.” His cheeks were wet and his eyes bloodshot as he looked up, running his fingers through his hair. You thought there was something wrong that day. But you didn’t think it could be this bad. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t want to ruin this day, this is our baby girl’s day, I shouldn’t have-“

“Satoru, don’t talk like that. That’s beyond your control.” His breaths were shaky. You doubt that even his closest friends knew about this. “My dad and I placed a restraining order against them. I can’t look at those people the same way anymore.” His eyes were closed as he took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think about what you’d feel or think if you accidentally found out…like now. I should’ve explained earlier.” He was referring to your assumptions earlier. “I know it’s hard. I’m sorry, I jumped to conclusions.” You don’t know how long the two of you were staring into each other’s eyes but a voice took you out of the little world that you share.

“Mama…” A cute, sleepy voice called out from outside of the bedroom. “I’ll get her. Calm your mind, Satoru. It’s over. We’re here.” You have no idea how big of an impact those words had on Satoru. He almost wanted to cry again, to pull you close and cry to you again.

To see your back walking out of this bedroom door, but this time with the promise of being on the other side, waiting.

He sat there for a few more minutes, releasing all the heaviness in his chest before getting up to wash his face. Leaning on the doorframe of his daughter’s room, he saw you putting on her little sweaters as you sat barefoot on the floor. “Gumi sing me.” The child spoke with enthusiasm. “He did? What did he sing?” You encouraged, fixing her clothes.

“Can you sing me a song too?” He interrupted, walking in to sit down with you. It was all it took for Satoru to forget what happened earlier. Eating at home with the two of you always feels like an answered prayer. After that, you helped the child open her gifts until way past her sleeping hours.

Walking you to the guest room felt like the first time you lived together; awkward yet heartwarming. Of course, no boundaries were crossed. He wouldn’t try. And you won’t allow it. At least he got to wish you a good night and sweet dreams again.

—---------------------------------------

Days, weeks, and months went by fast. It’s already been 4 months since Yui’s birthday and now you’re walking with her and Satoru at a grocery store. “Yui, this is for the stuff we will buy, this is not a stroller.” You explained as she tried to get Satoru to put her in the pushcart.

He wasn’t supposed to be with you here but it’s Yui’s pick-up day and you decided that you need to get some stuff. Satoru asked if he and Yui could join you since he doesn’t have anything planned except for an early movie night with his little girl. “You’re not a little baby anymore.” She hit Satoru’s chest as he pouted teasingly at her.

“Hey. We don’t hit.” You talked to her sternly, making her put her head on her father’s chest, whispering an almost inaudible apology. “Satoru, do not let her hit you, she’ll get used to doing that.” You reminded him, knowing that he can’t ever scold his baby girl.

“Yes, Ma’am.” He replied absentmindedly, bouncing the kid in his arms to get her to laugh. These days, you’ve been getting comfortable with things like this. You’ve been getting comfortable with compliments like “Oh you make cute babies” from old people who take a liking to your daughter.

You’ve been getting comfortable with Satoru pushing the cart for you as you look for what you need, reaching for the items on the top shelf, carrying your bags for you, and driving you home as you sit in the passenger seat.

Like right now.

“Her sleeping schedule got a lot better when she changed her vitamins, yeah?” You responded to Satoru with a hum as you chewed on your fries, handing a piece to your daughter as she kicked on her car seat. “Her doctor recommended that. I’m glad it works, she used to get up so early.” The car stopped in front of your apartment.

“Would you like to stay? I’ll be cooking.” You won’t deny that this isn’t the first time you asked, “I’d love to stay.” And this isn’t the first time he agreed. You don’t know why but you didn’t budge from the passenger seat, knowing that Satoru was rushing to open the door for you. You went to your baby and took her inside, not worrying about your things and the groceries you bought.

You can’t remember the last time it felt awkward with Satoru lying on your couch with your daughter. You also can’t remember how he had a pair of spare house slippers for him here. Walking past the fridge, you saw a photo of Yui and Megumi from their recent pool party.

Satoru came to pick you and Yui up but you ended up staying for another hour. You can’t remember when Toji and Satoru shed a noticeable amount of awkwardness around them. At one point, you even heard them talking about business like they didn’t try to rip each other’s heads off when they first met.

You can’t remember at what point everything started going right but you’re not complaining.

“Where’s her choccy-juice?” Satoru mimicked Yui’s words, laughing. “I told her we were about to eat in a few minutes but she won’t listen.” Taking the chocolate milk from the fridge, he stood beside you to fulfill his daughter’s request. “She’s not supposed to have a lot of that.” You sighed, “I’ll just let her have a taste so she’ll stop.” His voice sounded so much softer now.

“Dada!” She came running to the kitchen, holding onto Satoru’s leg as she tried to have a peek at what you were cooking. “Wanna see? Here’s your choccy.” He lifted her, letting her hold the sippy cup as they watched you cook. “Hmm…” Both you and Satoru can’t help but laugh at her reaction.

You don’t know if it’s because a lot of things happened but they all feel like distant memories; some of which you can’t even clearly see in the back of your mind. Satoru felt like a new man and along with this, the pain of your past continuously fades away each time you see his face.

You don’t want to name the feeling yet but, you know that all that’s meant to happen will happen.

Like it did when you had Yui. Like it did when you got sundered. Like it did when you tried with different people. Like it does now, as you slowly, steadily fall back together.

PREV | ALT. Ending

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#angst #gojo angst #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru angst #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen angst #jjk #jjk x reader

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sunsetchicane · 2 months

Text

i love you, i'm sorry [QH43]

quinn hughes x fem!reader

word count: 2.9k

summary: two years after breaking things off with Quinn, you find yourself going to Game 1 of Round 2 of the Playoffs, completely unprepared to see the man you still harbour feelings for.

based off of: this is loosely based off of I Love You, I'm Sorry by Gracie Abrams

warnings: aggressive amounts of pining (like, probably annoying), two swear words, a few kisses, mentions of a breakup (so like, kinda angst? idk man), copious amounts of cheesiness, probably extremely inaccurate descriptions of the game, not great writing lol. let me know if i missed anything!

author's note: okay, i haven't written anything on here yet due to a horrendous case of writer's block and many hours of working. so, this is definitely not my best work, but it was a fun way to try move past my writing slump. i really do hope that anyone who reads this does enjoy! love, addi <3

Vancouver’s streets preserve memories well. You found that out when, even two years after things had fallen to pieces, you couldn’t go anywhere without seeing the two of you holding hands, sharing quiet laughs, and stealing kisses. You’d thought that after two years you would’ve been able to shake those memories off when they plagued your mind; but it was hard when he was plastered across banners and fans sported his jersey for half the year.

He was making his name known throughout the NHL, and you couldn’t ignore the buzz around Quinn Hughes when the Canucks made it to the Stanley Cup Playoffs.

After you and Quinn had broken things off, you had to find separate friend groups to belong in. The two of you had shared too many mutual friends. The group of ladies you did manage to find yourself among knew nothing about your past relationship with the captain of the Canucks. When the city was gearing up for the first round of the playoffs, even your friends couldn’t stop talking about the sport.

You were standing outside, leaning against the railing on a BC ferry, returning from visiting family on the Island, when you received a call from your friend Lydia. You picked up without hesitation.

“Hey, what’s up?” you asked.

She immediately giggled, which honestly had you a little scared. “I have a surprise,” she said excitedly, the last word dragged out.

You snorted. “Am I allowed to ask what it is?”

“It’s a really big surprise, and you have to promise not to scream when I tell you,” she laughed, acting like a teenage girl again. It was one of the things you really did love about her – her ability to bring childlike joy with her wherever she went.

“I promise not to scream, Lyd,” you assured her, hoping she was satisfied.

She paused for dramatic effect, and you let her. You knew she was having fun with it.

“We’re going to the first game of round 2 of the playoffs!” she squealed.

Your phone nearly slipped through your fingers, almost lost to the sea. You stepped away from the railing, suddenly very glad there was no one on the deck with you. Your heart clenched in your chest. The last time you had been to a game was when you and Quinn had still been together. He wouldn’t even know you were in the crowd, but you would be painfully aware of him in the centre of the arena.

“Okay, you’re even quieter than I thought you’d be,” Lydia commented, reminding you that there was someone on the other end of the line.

You debated for a moment what to say. Would it best to just blurt out that you had dated Quinn Hughes and you were not exactly ready to go watch him play again? Definitely not.

“Uh, yeah, I’m just surprised!” That wasn’t a lie. “How’d you get the tickets?”

“My dad,” she said simply. “When I told him I wanted to go see the Canucks, he was suddenly the proudest parent in the world. You know how he is – once he gets an idea in his head, whether it’s planted there by me or not, he has to do it.”

“Wow, that’s–that’s crazy!” you said stiffly, still unsure of how to act.

“Yeah, and it gets better! We’re sitting right behind the Canucks’ bench!”

You nearly choked on nothing. “What?”

“I know, right? I don’t know how my dad managed it, but he did,” she told you, completely unaware of your stuttering heart. “Who knows, maybe we’ll catch some players’ eyes,” she joked, and you tried to force a laugh out with her.

“Yeah, maybe.” What you didn’t add out loud was your brain screaming please no.

After a few more minutes of chatting and you pretending to be completely sound of mind, Lydia said goodbye, telling you she would send the details soon.

You pocketed your phone and leaned against the railing once more. You watched as the sun brushed the horizon, casting a beautiful pink against the clouds. Vancouver was getting close, and for obvious reasons, you were suddenly dreading it. You wanted to sit on the ferry until it returned to Vancouver Island.

You sighed and rested your chin on your folded arms. You heard a faint buzzing sound above you, and lifted your eyes to the sky. A plane was coming to land at the Vancouver Airport. As it approached, you let yourself imagine it was Quinn flying back from Nashville, and you felt your heart tighten in your chest once more, because you were terrified to see him again, but also because you still missed him. Maybe you were scared to see him because you missed him.

You dropped your forehead to your arms once more and groaned loudly, the ocean and the brightening city lights your only listening companions.

When the morning of May 8th arrived, you found yourself unable to shake the anxiety that had made a home in your chest over the last few days. There was a tenseness in your shoulders that never left, and a squeezing at your heart that seemed relentless.

The group chat you shared with your friends had been buzzing incessantly, the girls incredibly excited. Every now and then you made your fingers put a message out there that hopefully hid your anxieties from them.

After much procrastination, you eventually made your way to your closet. After tugging on a simple pair of blue jeans, you reached towards the back of your closet. Your fingers closed around the unmistakable, thick material of the jersey. Taking a deep breath, you pulled it out. Your only Canucks jersey of course, had to be Quinn’s home jersey from two seasons ago. No one would know it was the jersey that he had pulled over his head before every home game. However, you knew. There was no C on the left side of the chest, and your mind was pulled back to the relationship you had shared.

You often questioned why you and Quinn had even ended things. You missed him so much still, and you were plagued by the way you knew it had been the wrong choice. You had been growing apart as he was dealing with growing attention and expectations within his career, and a promotion at your own job had stolen your energy and attention. You had both been tired and short with one another, and eventually the tension built and had blown up in a terrible way.

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to force both the guilt and continued yearning out of your busy mind.

When Lydia texted that she and the girls were on the way to your apartment, you reluctantly pulled the jersey over your head. The sleeves covered most of your hands, and the fabric fell past your hips and part way down your thighs. You pulled on a pair of shoes and left the safe space that was your apartment, locking the door behind you.

Rogers Arena was packed and the energy in the building made you feel like you could start vibrating. You and your friends held hands so as not to get separated. You were glad when your friends made no comment on how tightly you squeezed their hands, or how sweaty your palms might have been.

You were made significantly more nervous when you realised that Lydia had not been exaggerating about your seats. You were sitting right behind the bench.

The arena was filling up steadily, and you sat there in between your friends, not speaking a single word. It had been a couple years since you had been here, and while you were very nervous, the familiarity came rushing back to you and it helped to slow your fast beating heart.

If you closed your eyes, you could imagine Quinn smiling at you from the other side of the glass, and laughing when you blew him a kiss.

You wrapped your arms gently around yourself, the once very stiff material of the jersey now very easily shifted and manipulated. You knew it didn’t smell like him anymore, but when you let yourself get lost in the feeling of his old jersey, it was like he was right there. You were wrapped in him still, and you doubted it would ever go away.

You were shocked out of your own thoughts when your friends, along with the rest of the fans around you, started cheering. The Canucks and the Oilers were on the ice, starting to warm up. Your eyes searched the ice quickly, and gliding easily across the ice on the opposite side of rink, was the captain, the number 43 embroidered on his jersey, just like the one you adorned.

Your own cheeks heated up when it really hit you that you were wearing his old jersey. You weren’t together anymore; what were you thinking? He could see you– what would he think when he saw you right behind his bench, wearing the jersey he had gifted you?

You suddenly wanted to throw up more than ever. He exchanged a few words with Elias, and laughed at something his buddy had said. Your heart ached in longing once more. You had missed his laugh so much.

Quinn now had facial hair, something he hadn’t had when he was with you. His hair was longer, peeking out from beneath his helmet. He already seemed much more grown up. He looked like a captain, something who had become used to leading his team. Quinn had always been somewhat confident in his abilities as a hockey player, but it was easy to tell that he had really gotten used to his role on the team and had come into his own over the past two years.

The girls grabbed your hands and walked into the aisle, just to get right up to the glass. Your face burned and you tried to hide behind some of your friends. You kept your heads down and your arms folded.

Your friends held up hats and other paraphernalia that they desperately wanted signed by players.

“Y/N!” One of your friends practically shouted. You suddenly noticed that they had all stopped cheering. You looked up to see them parted in front of you.

Quinn was on the other side of the glass, looking right at you.

Your friends shoved you up the glass, giggling and squealing. You nearly ran into the glass from the force of their shoves. Quinn laughed at you, his smile exactly how you remembered it.

He pointed at the white Canucks towel in your hands and shouted, “toss it over!” The arena was so loud you were glad he had mouthed it clearly. You hesitated but threw the towel over. With one glove off and in the other hand, he caught it. He gestured to one of your friends to throw over the Sharpie she was holding. She did gladly, happy to be included. He caught it easily and started to write quickly on the white fabric. Your heart did flips while watching him, and your hands shook with nothing to hold onto.

He finally capped the pen and threw both the towel and marker over the glass. You struggled to catch it, but thankfully, you managed to hold onto it. You held it flat before you.

Meet me by my car after. Usual spot. Your breath stopped slightly when you saw a rushed heart drawn next to the words. You looked back up to see him putting his glove back on. He gave you a warm smile that set you on a fire from the tips of your toes to the top of your head. You took a deep breath and nodded to him. His smile widened slightly. Before he turned to skate away, you saw him mouth the words, “nice jersey.” You stuttered for a second, and he simply winked and turned.

Your friends all screamed and crowded you, looking at the towel.

“Usual spot? What the fuck is going on?” Lydia yelled over the noise, cackling.

You just blushed and shook your head, returning to your seat with the towel gripped tightly in your hands.

As the teams continued to warm up, you explained as quickly as you could that you and Quinn had once been together. Your friends, of course, were shocked but also very excited for you at the prospect of reuniting with him. You simply waved your hands in protest.

“I don’t even know if he wants to get back together with me! He might just want to catch up or something… we’re cool now and I don’t want to mess anything up.”

“Girl, please!” one of your friends shouted. “He drew a motherfucking heart and winked at you! Of course he wants you back.”

You all laughed and you embraced the next blush that warmed your cheeks.

The players left the ice, and minutes later, the lights went dark. The deafening sound of nearly 19,000 people screaming almost broke your eardrums. Blue light filled the room, and you looked up to see what was playing on the large screens above you.

You watched the intro video and let a nostalgic, giddy feeling overtake you. You couldn’t help but smile.

The arena fell back into nearly full darkness. You heard the beginning of a familiar sound of twinkly guitar that dragged you right back to 2011. Goosebumps rose up along your skin all over your body. That was the last time the Canucks had made it to the Playoff finals, and you hoped dearly that they could get there again. The playing of Where The Streets Have No Name from their intro from 2011 made hope take hold of you.

You couldn’t help but raise your particularly special white rally towel in the air to wave alongside all of the other Canucks fans in the building.

It had been surprisingly easy to get into the players’ parking garage. Despite it being two years since you had been in the building, you were recognized by several people, who let you walk wherever you wanted.

Your friends had practically shoved you to go after the game, screaming after you to call them later. You had laughed and walked away, your steps lighter than they had been in a long while.

You later found yourself standing by Quinn’s car. It was the same one he’d had when you had been together. Your hand brushed the shining hood of the car, and you could see yourself in the passenger seat, laughing at something he’d said as the two of you drove around downtown Vancouver.

“Thank God you actually showed up.”

You whipped around, seeing a freshly showered Quinn in sweatpants and a hoodie making his way towards you.

You tugged on the hem of the jersey, your heart beating quicker and quicker with every step he took.

He stopped in front of you, and when you looked up, you both spoke.

“I love you.”

“I’m sorry.”

Your eyes nearly popped out of your head. “You-what?”

He bit his bottom lip before repeating himself. “I love you. I know it’s been two years, but-”

“I love you, too,” you said quickly, blood roaring in your ears. “And I am so, so sorry. I never should’ve-”

It was his turn to cut you off. “Don’t apologise, please. It’s not your fault.”

“Can you… can you please accept my apology, at least?”

He smiled softly. “I forgive you. I’m sorry, too.”

“I forgive you, too,” you whispered softly, your heart swelling with affection as you looked at him. You felt an intense relief flood your body. Your shoulders finally relaxed for the first time in what felt like years. He reached out and wrapped you in a warm hug. You melted into it, returning the gesture.

“I missed you. So much,” you mumbled into his hoodie.

One of hands gently scratched the back of your neck like he used to do. “I missed you, too.” He pulled away just enough to lean down and kiss your lips softly. Nothing had ever felt so natural. His playoff beard scratched your face and you laughed at the sensation, pulling away.

“Not used to the beard,” you admitted, smiling widely.

He smiled, too. “Yeah, what do you think? Should I keep it around?”

You shrugged, leaning back into him. “Well, you’re very handsome either way.”

“You think?”

“Mhm. Your hair also looks very good. I like it longer like this,” you told him, ruffling his brown hair. He swatted your hand away and kissed your cheek.

“Noted.” He looked down at me again. “Should probably get you a new jersey.”

“Hm, you think I need the big ole C on here, Captain?”

He shook his head, blushing. “Don’t call me that.”

You laughed, wrapping your arms around him, bringing his head down for you to kiss. “Couldn’t help myself.” You grabbed his hands. “Congratulations on the big win, by the way.”

“I can’t believe you came. I thought I was hallucinating or something when I saw you,” he told you honestly.

“Well, I’m glad I came,” you admitted, running a hand through his hair.

“You have no idea how happy I am right now,” he said, smiling wider than you had seen all night.

You laughed, feeling pure joy in your heart. “I think I might have an idea.”

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eyelessfaces · 7 months

Text

about time we found each other again.

leto atreides x reader

summary: even years after your wedding got called off, leto is not sure he truly really got over you.

warnings: implied cheating (I am so sorry lady jessica I love you), death of a parent, angst, probably inaccurate dune lore stuff my most sincere apologies I did my best

tags: f!reader, arranged marriage, first love, love confessions, estrangement, time jump where the second part takes place a few years before the first movie (this doesn't matter at all tbh)

word count: 2.1k

this is my first time writing for leto so I hope he's alright lol<3

When you came to meet Leto Atreides for the first time, it was instantaneous; maybe you couldn't rightfully affirm it with conviction yet, but some deep part of you immediately knew that you desired him to be the one by your side for the rest of time.

He had been the only other person around your age when you and your family attended a special meeting on Caladan, and you could very well feel your heart beat faster and your cheeks burn hot at each of his furtive glance thrown your way and each slight smirk over either of your faces when your gaze met his.

Maybe leaving your home land and being sent to eventually move to Caladan wouldn’t be as bad as you had thought, after all.

And it wasn't. You quickly, borderline scarily quickly fell in love with Leto, you were sure of it by now. His manners were those of a man of respect, and he was kind and compassionate, he didn’t have the over excessive pride you would expect from a destined duke.

And ultimately, you grew to also be almost pretty sure that he felt the same way towards you, from the way he listened to you with no feigned interest whenever you shared stories with him, from the way his warm brown eyes so gently looked over at you, from the way he always made sure you were treated right.

You remembered it to be a warm evening when he officially confessed his love to you.

You had been walking mindlessly through seemingly never ending fields, talking about anything and everything for what felt like a lifetime, eventually stopping to lay down and watch the sun set.

Leto had settled on gently putting flowers in your hair while you told him about your childhood on your home land, smiling radiantly as he admired you lovingly, brushing your cheek with the back of his hand before he leaned in to kiss you.

Your own hand was quick to find his dark curls neatly slicked back as he hovered over you, the tip of his fingers delicately tracing your face and neck before he pulled away from your lips when it became absolutely necessary.

From there, the sunset and everything else became insignificant, everything could be crumbling around you and you wouldn’t pay it any mind; nothing mattered, not when Leto promised to love you until his very last breath here in the middle of nowhere.

So when you eventually had your parents visit you on Caladan and announce to you that you had been sent there for them to agree with the Atreides upon arranging a marriage with Leto, you couldn’t be happier and it couldn’t be more convenient; you would have chosen him anyway, if given the choice.

Leto had the competence of making everything seem so easy, and he turned out to be quick to ease your worries about your upcoming future as a duchess.

Even under the looming political pressure of your marriage, this wedding meant a starting point for the rest of your life, a part you could not wait to share with him, even if it meant a lot of responsibilities and changes.

Then so suddenly, all at once, it all fell apart, everything.

It was late in the night when you and Leto were laughing and dancing, rehearsing for the forthcoming wedding. Servants had knocked onto your shared room door, and Leto’s hand left your waist as he scurried away to answer the door, opening and making way for them to enter the room.

They came in with a polite nod, one of them unrolling a parchment letter, reading out loud to the both of you.

The letter was from your father, announcing the news that your mother had died while on a mission, resulting in the need of your presence at your home land to take over her legacy and responsibilities for a while.

You didn’t understand what it involved right away, maybe from the shock of the sudden, dreadful news, the loss of your mother too hard to swallow.

You didn’t understand that it meant that you and Leto were bound to be no more, that either of you were now assigned to different fates and responsibilities, that the marriage was therefore called off for the moment being.

And you quite certainly didn't realize that the night you spent tossing and turning around your shared bed with eyes wide open until the sunrise was the last night by his side, that the morning you left was the last time you would see him.

Until years later, what felt like a lifetime.

When you came back to Caladan for political and business reasons, it was only because of the absolute necessity of your presence, otherwise you wouldn't have shown up.

Finding him again after so long drowned you right back again in the same hollow feeling you endured the moment you were drawn apart years ago, and while you mirrored his polite nod and smirk, you couldn't help but still feel the pain of being estranged so brutally, of seeing him again after so many years.

He was wearing the slowly appearing gray streaks of hair beautifully, and the beard suited him like he was made for it; it made his handsome face look a bit more harsh and severe, but he was a duke now, after all.

You lightly cleared your throat as you made your way to leave the meeting once it was over, troubled as you could feel the weight of his gaze burning holes through you all along. You could feel your heart pound through your ribcage the exact same way it used to when he held you when you were younger, and you ultimately came to the rotten conclusion that your stay here in his presence would be a tough, challenging time for you, and that dwelling on the past had been a bad idea, exactly like you had anticipated it to be.

—

It was wonderful out there, just like you had remembered it to be. The view from the balcony offered you an endless panorama over Caladan and its lush lands, and while you loved your home land with your whole being, you couldn’t deny missing living on Caladan.

The fresh breeze of the night was nothing but pleasant, and even though you were slowly starting to feel goosebump growing over your skin, you figured the view of the sun starting to set was more important.

“I thought I could stay focused while in your presence.” you recognize his voice all too well, and you wonder if the shiver running down your spine is caused by his sudden apparition or the wind hitting you. “I was deeply wrong”

“Leto,�� you chuckle sheepishly, blushing as you turn around and face him.

A bittersweet smile has quirked upon his face, and he steps further and approaches you. The years have been unkind to him, lines of wisdom and experience growing upon his face transforming him into a man hardened by duty. Yet, beneath the rough facade, you can still see the eyes and soul of the man you once knew and loved.

“Why only now?” he asks, a certain helplessness painted across his face.

“What?”

He sighs as he looks away, licks his lips as he walks besides you and grips the barrier of the balcony with both hands. You only hear the wind as you watch and wait for him to do, to say something.

“This should have been yours. All of this” he mutters, gaze fixed on the sight before him. The clouds look like cotton ripped apart and spread through the wide sky, and the sun setting over Caladan turns them into an abnormal color, one you wouldn't even be able to define. “I waited for you.” Leto declares, head turning to look back at you like he is trying to figure out how you feel or waiting for you to say something.

Your eyes close as a small exhale leaves your mouth. “Why should it matter now, Leto” you scoff, turning away to try to escape his gaze, heavier than you remember.

“It has always mattered” he declares, following your steps as you try to inch away from him. He calls your name in a weak plea, his hand coming to rest over your arm. “Look at me. Please”

You do. You turn back to him, and he looks at you like you will be slipping away from him any moment now, like you're just a ghost, like you're water in his bare hands. “Tell me you did not think of me all those years and I'll leave you alone.” he whispers feebly, face close to yours as he still holds onto your arm, and you can feel your breaths mingling from how close he is to you.

His unwavering gaze is locked on yours, desperately waiting for you to say something. Eventually, your lack of response speaks for itself, and he nods slightly. “That's what I thought.”

“Leto.”

His hands come to cup your face, holding it steady as with a sigh, his forehead rests against yours. Your eyelids fall shut under the weight of it all and you exhale softly, your hand wrapping around his wrist, stroking along his forearm.

“I have loved you since I met you. I should have found you and married you regardless.” he mutters, barely louder than a whisper. His declaration makes something flutter deep in your core, and you grimace like his words feel sour to hear. You should have done it differently, should have come back to Caladan after everything went back to normal after your mother's death.

“And your wife?” you rhetorically ask, with a dubious scoff.

“She's not– we never married.” he shakes his head, pulling away from your forehead to look back at you, your hand falling to your side again when you let go of his arm. His gaze and the way his eyebrows are angled weakly are conveying everything you need to know, confirming every conclusion you made.

Your lips part slightly, some part of you refusing to believe in what he's indirectly telling you, refusing to believe that he gave up on some part of his life waiting for you.

“We were promised a marriage together, a life together” he continues, taking hold of your hand, fingers lacing with yours tentatively. “I always hoped you would come back and we would resume our life together where it stopped.”

“Now still?” you weakly ask, equally pained and somehow flattered that he never really got over you.

Again, the lack of answer and his previous actions prove the point, and you hold his hand tighter when you swallow with difficulty. Your other hand slightly trembles when you reach to touch his face, settling to rest at his bearded cheek, and you smile weakly as you trace the lines that you never got to witness appear.

“We were so young” you smile, drawing one out of him. The corners of his lips turn upwards as his hand covers your own over his face, pulling it to bring it to his mouth to kiss your knuckles softly, the feeling of his warm breath over your skin taking you years back.

“Don't go back.” he begs against your hand, his voice wavering a little. There’s a glint in his eyes as his gaze darts up at you that makes it impossible for you to consider refusing and giving up on him again. “You belong here.”

Your eyebrows knit in uncertainty as you tear your gaze away from him, looking at the endless view again. You can't help but overthink every consequence coming back to Caladan is going to involve, for you as much as for Leto, and especially for his own concubine that is at this point already long forgotten by him.

This is unfair, but some part of you acknowledges your younger selves feelings and remembers how devastated you were to leave him; leaving again while knowing that he still cares after so many years and regrets not marrying you may hurt even more.

“This will make people talk, Leto.” you wince, looking back at him.

He shakes his head carefreely. “Let them.” he affirms with a dismissive scoff as his hands settle over your hips. You grin softly as he pulls you closer, and a soft exhale leaves your mouth when your arms wrap around his neck.

He takes a while to admire your face, how it has changed despite still remaining the one of the woman he fell in love with long ago.

When he kisses you, it is the exact same way he used to when you were young.

—

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dawnagustd · 2 years

Text

hours || jjk

⇝ author’s note: she’s here, bitches!!!! lol thank you @m1sss1mp and @monvante for putting posters of this man all over my blog. this fic is for the both of you. thank you so much for holding my hand through it all. thank you @baljinciaga for beta’ing and screaming in the comments because you gave me the confidence to post this lol. listen, i’m rusty with the smut y’all so i apologize if it’s a mess. anyway, i hope you enjoy. this has been beta’d but there’s still probably some errors since i changed some things after it was beta read.

masterlist | permanent taglist form | read on ao3

drabbles: the unholy drabble | nails drabble | keeps

“So are you spending the night or…?”

Jungkook props himself on his elbow so he can see you. He uses his fingers to comb some hair away from his face, revealing his flushed cheeks and a horseshoe septum piercing. Ask yourself how many rounds you’ve gone, and you wouldn’t be able to give an accurate answer.

You came over at six, had a beer, did some karaoke, showed him some shit you learned in twerk class, and as some as the Netflix intro came through the tv speakers, your clothes were scattered all over his apartment and your ass was in the air while Jungkook fucked up your guts.

This is kind of a Wednesday night routine for you two. Has been for a few months. You’re just vibing and having fun with your hot neighbor, nothing serious yet. Right?

“As much as I’d like to stay—”

“Pussy.”

Your mouth falls open.

“Excuse me?”

He giggles until you reach for his hair and tug on his strands. You slide closer, trying to intimidate him but he keeps teasing.

“You’re pussy. You’re tapping out,” he repeats.

You scoff. “Boy, I’ve never tapped out a day in my life. Get the fuck out of here.”

Your thumb wipes the little smirk off of his face, but it returns seconds later.

“Your dick isn’t that good. Humble yourself,” you joke.

His cocky ass knows you’re dickmatized, but you still won’t admit it.

“Whatever. You know I’ve been holding back.”

“And who told you to do that?”

“You,” he answers. “Oh, Jungkook! Please, I’ll come!”

You smack his ink-covered arm drawing a chuckle from his lips.

“You’re so full of shit, Jungkook. Okay, let’s fuck again, and don’t hold back this time,” you request.

Jungkook begins shaking his head, laughing at your persistence.

“Love, the only one getting that kind of dick is my girl so…”

“So what are you trying to say?” you ask.

He shrugs. “You tell me. You know I’ve been trying to see about that.”

An eye roll from you follows his statement. “Whatever, I’ve already let you know how it is.”

“Yeah, but I wanna hear you say when you’re not stuffed with cock,” he gripes.

“Well, come here then. I’ll say it in your ear.”

You call him over using your finger, but he doesn’t move.

“You don’t know what you’re doing to me, love.”

You throw the covers off of both of you, kicking the comforter until your legs are free. Jungkook doesn’t move initially when you spread your legs. He stays in a sitting position, letting his hair fall in his face while he smiles menacingly. His Calvin Klein’s hug his thick thighs, creating creases in his flesh.

“Well, show. Teach me. Make me aware,” you tease, using your foot to caress his calf.

“Careful, baby.”

His throat growls those words, his voice dropping octaves so low your pussy clenches.

“Why? Tired, hm?”

“You know that’s not it,” he chuckles.

You’d be lying if you didn’t admit your pussy gets wet just looking at him. Imagine being hot inside and out. That’s Jungkook. A gentleman, and the cutest weirdo immediately after. The sex is just the cherry on top.

You two just clicked, and the rest is history. Whether you need someone to act an absolute clown with or someone to fuck your brains out, Jungkook is that guy. You can’t keep your hands off of him, and he can never resist the chance to slide his dick in you.

“I don’t. So make me understand.”

“Ai yi yi,” he sighs. Then he looks at you and shakes his head. “...so much attitude.”

“Fix it for me.”

Jungkook nods then swiftly pounces on you. You start giggling, knowing you’ve struck a nerve.

“You’re pushing it, you know.”

“I don’t care,” you retort.

Jungkook smirks. “Oh, you will.”

He lowers his body, leveling his face with your pussy. You can feel small puffs of air leave his lips and come in contact with your center.

Jungkook brings two of his fingers to your entrance and prods teasingly, getting you riled up almost instantly. You grip the sheets and lift your lower body off the bed to chase his digits, but he doesn’t push in.

“Still wet for me?” he asks. Jungkook spreads your folds to examine your arousal, looking at you when he discovers that you’re soaking. “Damn, you are.”

The sound of your slick as your opening widens makes your cheeks burn with shame. You turn away, but Jungkook doesn’t like that.

“Uh, uh. You wanna get fucked, you gotta watch,” he says.

Reluctantly, you give him your attention and you immediately regret looking away. His messy hair and puffy eyes give you butterflies as you wait for his next move. You almost forget about how close his face is to your cunt.

Jungkook’s fingers slowly slip into your pussy. You gasp while they sink deep into your crevice. He knows the exact route and the perfect arch in which he must curl them to make your body quiver with pleasure.

Hearing your arousal filling the room entices both of you and Jungkook becomes eager to pick up the pace. Your hips buck and move in a circular motion to match his movements, creating a familiar build-up of pressure within your core. The sheets below you start to dampen from the juices dripping down your center.

“You’re so hot,” he whispers before he kisses your clit. “And you taste so good.”

Jungkook makes out with your bundle of nerves while his fingers pump in and out of your opening. His hair covers his face, much to your disappointment, so you gather it all and keep it contained in a makeshift ponytail.

Now that his face is visible, you can see the way his tongue swipes your pussy each time his lips part. You moan his name, swelling him with so much pride he can’t help but smile briefly. His fingers slide out of you but only so he can kiss lower and fuck you with his tongue.

The deeper he enters, the more pressure his nose places on your throbbing clit. His septum piercing tickles your center as he rubs his face in your pussy, creating a pleasant sensation that penetrates your core.

Quickly, you lose control over everything. You can feel your stomach tightening, hear your moans getting louder, smell the desire growing stronger but you’re unable to grasp the one thing you so desperately want. It’s so close, but then, Jungkook snatches it away.

“Fuck, you asshole!”

Jungkook suddenly stops just as you’re reaching your peak. He withdraws and leaves you a whining mess while he laughs.

“Oh, now I’m an asshole?” His smirk never fades while he removes his underwear and tosses them on the floor. “I think I’m a gentleman.”

He looks over at the nightstand and sighs defeatedly.

“Fuck, man.”

“What?”

“Out of condoms,” he mumbles. “I’m sorry.”

You shrug. “It’s fine. I’m on the pill. We’re good.”

“Are you sure? I can just finish—”

“No, just pull out, dude. I wanna get fucked,” you insist.

“Well, yes ma’am. You don’t have to tell me twice.”

Jungkook hooks his arms under your thighs and pulls you on his lap. He keeps one hand underneath your thigh while the other one grabs his dick. You prop yourself on your elbows and watch as he strokes his cock a few times, using your arousal for lubrication before he aligns with your center.

The tip probes your entrance until it’s nestled inside and he no longer needs to hold his shaft. He redirects his attention to your clit, and he massages your bud as he buries his cock inside of you.

“Shit!”

Your back arches and your fist punch the bed. Inch by inch he fills your pussy until he can’t fit any more of himself inside of you. The fullness you feel from his girth leaves you breathless and panting.

“Still so tight,” he whispers. “...feels so good.”

Jungkook hovers over you when you lie down again and kisses you, leaving the taste of your pussy on your lips. His tongue slips into your mouth and arousal coats your tastebuds. Your moans are muffled but are still clearly heard. His name escapes your lips repeatedly as you beg him to fuck you.

“Ready?”

You nod. “Yeah.”

Another kiss graces your lips and then another for your chest. He moves to your breast and does the same to your nipples, but envelopes the right one between his lips and suckles it tenderly. Your arms wrap around him to bring him closer as he starts nibbling your sensitive bud with his teeth.

He starts to move, setting a pace that has your toes curling instantly. You bury your face in his dark strands and beg him to keep going.

“Jungkook, please don’t stop. It’s so good.”

“I’m not,” he promises, sending waves of vibrations through your areola. His mouth feels so warm and moist against your skin. Hair raises along your flesh caused by both the chill of the room and Jungkook’s gentle touch. It’s a contrast from the way he roughly thrusts inside of you, but it’s the kind of fire and ice that has your body yearning for more.

As if he can read your body language, he changes his position. A lewd noise pierces your ears when his lips release your stiffened nipple. The cold air makes your skin tingle due to the sensitivity and the presence of his saliva.

Jungkook wraps his hand around your throat, forcing you to keep your eyes on him. His fingers comb his hair away from his face, revealing his flushed face, his pierced lip tucked between his teeth. The intimacy of the moment intensifies the pleasure growing inside of you, and your watery eyes begin to produce thick salty droplets.

“Feel good, baby?” Jungkook quizzes. “Does it really feel that good?”

“Yes, Jungkook. It…”

Your voice is so weak and raspy. You have difficulty speaking clearly, and articulating your sentences. Jungkook is very displeased.

“Speak up,” he requests. He slaps your tits, leaving you trembling and hanging on by a thread. Your pussy clenches around him, and he responds by squeezing your throat. “You feel that?”

You croak out a response. The best you can with your airways being constricted.

“Good,” he grunts. “That’s how my dick feels inside this tight fucking pussy.”

He loosens his grip and air finally refills your lungs, making you lightheaded. Your head starts spinning, your vision becomes blurry, and slowly the familiar feeling begins to form within your gut. Grabbing Jungkook’s arm, you try to warn him, but you are immediately dismissed.

“Nope. I’m not done.”

Jungkook opens your legs wider and his thrusts deepen. It’s like he’s trying to fit his entire dick inside of you, but each time he runs out of room.

You can feel him entering your guts over and over. The blunt outline of his cock is faintly visible whenever it lodges itself in your womb. Your muscles clench tightly as you try your hardest to keep it together.

One thing’s for certain, he has been holding back. Now you’re addicted to this new side of him, and there’s no other way you want him to fuck you. It feels like no experience you’ve ever had; you can’t get enough, but your body can only take so much before you lose control.

“Ah, shit! You’re fucking tight.” Sweat drips from Jungkook’s forehead as he struggles to hang on. He’s drawing this out; savoring the moment just like you are, but both of you are nearing your peaks, and it’s only moments before you topple over the edge. “I want this forever.”

“You have it, though. I’m not going anywhere,” you promise. “I’m yours.”

“Oh, fuck.”

Jungkook’s movements stutter when he hears your voice speaking to him through your soft moans. Your words are like a match igniting a flame deep inside of him. He begins fucking you harder, like he’s on a mission to ruin you.

“Shit. Come on my dick, baby,” he moans, probably waking the neighbors. “Make a mess.”

At his command, your body gives in and chases the pleasure it’s been longing for. You scream his name like it’s the only word you know. Your soul leaves you lying on the bed and elevates to the ceiling, probably even further. You tremble and shake beneath him as the coil snaps inside of you, sending ripples of pleasure shooting through your veins.

Your arousal gushes out of you with enough force to push Jungkook’s dick out of you. He slaps your pussy repeatedly, milking you dry while he strokes his shaft. As you lay there, squirting out the last of your orgasm, you slowly return to your body, but you’re still basking in your post-sex daze.

“Flip over.”

Jungkook turns you on your stomach and straddles your thighs. He strokes his cock while he stares at your ass, still tender from all the spanking he did early. He slaps it with enough force to get a muffled moan out of you. Your head remains buried in the pillow because your body refuses to move an inch.

“Softest fucking ass on the planet,” he mumbles. “And all mine.”

You relax under his touch as his large hand begins to massage your flesh. You become more exhausted as the seconds tick by. Jungkook’s pants and moans fill your ears as he chases his high, and soon his breaths become shallower, indicating that he’s approaching his release.

“Fuck.”

Moments later warm droplets of his cum paint your ass while Jungkook cries your name. He plops on top of you, careful not to use all of his weight, and leaves kisses along your shoulder. When his breathing settles, he gets up and finds a shirt to clean your body. He covers you with the blanket when he’s done so you aren’t cold.

“Are you still with me?” he asks, and you giggle.

“I’m here.”

“Well, I wish you’d say something.”

When you turn your head in his direction, you find him standing there in all of his naked glory, his dick slowly deflating, but still standing at attention while he chugs down his leftover beer.

“Maybe you should drink some water,” you suggest.

He puts the mug down and raises a finger. “You’re absolutely right. I’ll be back.”

When Jungkook leaves, the door remains open and someone else enters the room moments later. You don’t even flinch when Bam jumps on the bed, claiming his spot at the end. You’re just glad he’s finally warmed up to you. At first, you think he was a little jealous, but you guess he realized that with you in the picture, he receives two times the love and attention.

Jungkook’s footsteps make their way down the hall and he’s shocked by the sight of his pup lying beside you when he enters the room.

“I see you two have finally become friends,” he points out. He walks over to the bed and gives Bam some love while he whispers to him. “Don’t steal my girl, dude.”

You giggle and shake your head, as if Bam would ever leave his side. You’ve noticed that he has been more drawn to you lately, but you think it’s just him getting used to you being around. He knows you aren’t going to steal his dad from him, so now he’s more open to spending time with you.

“Did you bring me some water?”

Jungkook nods. “Of course.”

He gives you the water bottle and you sit up so you can drink some. Jungkook sits beside you and waits for you to finish.

You know he’s about to ask you something, so you quickly gulp down your water to get it over and done with.

On cue, he speaks.

“You still haven’t given me an answer.”

“Ah,” you sigh. “I don’t know, Jungkook.”

“That’s not an answer. I mean no is fine, but I just wanted some kind of idea about where this is going,” he states.

You’ve thought about it, and dating Jungkook isn’t a bad idea. You’re just nervous because this is going so well and you don’t want to mess it up. However, the advice your friend gave you a week ago still plays in your mind.

“If you really need more time, it’s fine but I feel like you’ve been holding back too. I want you in my life, Bam wants you to be his mom, and—”

“Jungkook,” you interrupt, fighting back a smile, but you fail.

“What is it?”

You set your water on the nightstand and grab his hand. You absentmindedly trace his tattoos, while you talk to him.

“I’m nervous because I don’t want this ‘honeymoon’ phase to end,” you start. You can see his shoulders droop because he thinks this is bad news. However, it's not. “But every day we grow closer, so why should I let my mind prevent my heart from being happy?”

“You are so fucking trashed,” he blurts out. “Did I really fuck you that good?”

“Jungkook shut the fuck up. I was trying to be deep. Leave me alone.”

You try to turn away and go to bed but he pulls you on his lap.

“Hey, I’m kidding. That was cute,” he says. “I got it. You like me, and I like you. Let’s just continue to take it slow.”

“Thanks.”

“Mhm. But just so we’re clear, you’re my girlfriend now by default because we just… Well, you know.”

“I’ll be that,” you reply. “As long as you’re my… boy boy b-b-b-b-b-boyfriend.”

When Jungkook rolls his eyes, you erupt with laughter, knowing he doesn’t want to admit he likes BTR.

“Whatever, go to sleep.”

“In my bed, or yours?” you ask.

“Don’t start.”

You both snuggle together on the dry side of the bed while Bam snores peacefully at your feet. Jungkook hugs you from behind and the two of you slowly drift off to sleep.

“Goodnight,” you whisper.

But your boyfriend has already tapped out. Looks like you’re the real champ around here.

thank you for reading! if you enjoyed this story, please consider reblogging and/or leaving feedback.

#jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #bts smut #bts x reader #jungkook imagines #bts imagines #thekpopuniverse #bangtansorciere #bangtanbathhouse #kvanity #jungkook fanfics #fic: hours #sugakookitty

4K notes · View notes

doctorbitchcrxft · 2 months

Text

Reflections | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Warnings: alcoholism, toxic relationship dynamics, mentions/descriptions of smut (MDNI 18+ ONLY), angstangstangst, the crippling reality of being broke and in your twenties, an ambiguous ending! Up to your imagination what happens next :)

Word Count: 5026

A/N: For a lovely nonnie!! This fic hits close to home LMFAO as does the song the fic is inspired by. Not to call you out nonnie but tell me you’ve been in a situationship that ended horribly without telling me you’ve been in a situationship that ended horribly… lol. Anyway, i hope y’all enjoy this absolute angst cesspool of pre-season one Dean!!

Songs of the fic ! (did anyone else’s exes listen to the trifecta of male manipulator music aka car seat headrest, cigs after sec, and the neighbourhood? bonus points if chase atlantic is thrown in there, too)

Reflections by the Neighbourhood

Casual by Chappell Roan

Working for the Knife by Mitski

It’s Only Sex by Car Seat Headrest

Cry by Cigarettes After Sex

Queue up your favorite music streaming service if you’d like, and have a wonderful read!

Meeting Dean Winchester was among the more wonderful things that happened to you. After graduating from college, your life had been complete hell. Between non-stop job interviews, working shifts at a crappy restaurant job you’d had since sophomore year to be able to pay your rent, and a crumbling relationship with your family, you were drowning. Needing a night off, you decided to go out with a few of your friends.

It was that night that you met Dean. As soon as you walked into the bar, he caught your eye. He was busy chatting with a pretty blonde with long, toned legs, but you hardly noted her. He was all muscle, tall, freckled, and had probably been sculpted by the gods.

Men didn’t usually hold your attention. You were too busy and had too many previous relationships with frat boys and abusive idiots to worry about or focus on another one. Dean, however, was different.

Through the night, you tried to just enjoy your time with your friends, but every piece of you was hoping that the beautiful stranger would come over and talk to you. And finally, finally, your silent prayer came true.

His confidence was intimidating. Your friends all blushed and giggled when he approached, and your best friend pulled your other two girls away to another table to let you and Dean talk.

“Your friend seems disappointed,” he said evenly.

“In what?” you asked, a smile pulling at your lips.

“That I’m talking to you and not her,” the man replied.

Oh, god. You knew his type. You knew he’d be horrible for you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. “You’re very sure of yourself…” you trailed off, waiting for him to tell you his name.

“Dean,” he told you.

“Dean.” The name felt good rolling off your tongue. “Nice to meet you, Dean.”

“Trust me, pleasure’s all mine,” he replied.

You rolled your eyes playfully. “You can drop the cheesy lines.”

Dean furrowed his eyebrows.

“C’mon, you know exactly what I’m talking about,” you smirked, taking a sip of your beer.

“Most girls like ‘em,” he said, confidence unwavering.

“Do you think I’m like most girls?” you asked, eyes challenging and lustful.

“No,” he smirked.

***

That night was officially marked in the calendar as the night you had the best sex of your life. Dean was incredibly giving in bed, and he wouldn’t let himself finish until you did. He knew when to be gentle and when to be rough with you, and you appreciated how attentive to your reactions he was.

After that, Dean came over to your apartment every night for four days. And yet, you still knew very little about him.

“Where ‘re you from, Dee?” you asked, sitting on the couch across from him with a beer in your hand.

“Lawrence. In Kansas,” he replied shortly. Dean normally wasn’t as curt with you, and you knew you needed to press further into that.

“We’re a long way from Kansas, Toto,” you joked. “What’s got you out here?”

“Eh, y’know. My brother’s off at Stanford, my dad’s a dick when he’s not around, and I just needed to get away for a bit,” Dean explained, shrugging.

“Brother?” you asked.

A smile spread across his face. “Yeah, uh, Sam’s his name. He’s in undergrad for law. His freshman year.”

“Oh, damn. He must be really smart, then,” you prompted.

Dean nodded, still grinning. “Yeah, he is.”

“What about you?” you asked.

“What about me?” he replied, taking a sip of his beer.

“College?”

He shook his head. “Nah. Dropped out as soon as it was legal to.”

You snickered.

“What about you? What are you doin’ out here?” Dean asked, sinking further into your couch. Even the way he sat emanated confidence.

You sighed.

“Oh, sorry. Didn’t mean to upset you—”

You shook your head. “No, no! It’s okay. It’s just— It’s complicated.” Dean allowed you to collect your thoughts for a moment. “Went to school, got myself a degree, and I graduated last year. And now, I’m barely keeping myself afloat. Applied to tons of places, got interviews at some, and all of ‘em fell through.”

“Oh,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry.”

You shrugged, taking a deep breath. “It’s alright. I’m sure every new grad goes through this shit.”

“What about your family?” Dean asked you. “You close with them?”

You scoffed. “All of them can suck my dick.”

Dean chuckled, clearly caught off-guard. “Jesus. That bad?”

“Absolutely.” You stretched and put your empty beer bottle down on the coffee table. “Life’s not all bad, though.”

“Oh?” Dean prompted.

“I met you, didn’t I?” you smiled lopsidedly.

The man chuckled but said nothing.

Immediately, you felt embarrassed. “Sorry, I— I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable if I did. I know we’re just hooking up, and—”

Dean shook his head. “No, no. It’s okay. Just… I wanna be upfront with you. I’m just rolling through. I’m never gonna be in one place for long.”

Your heart sank. “Oh.”

“It’s nothing against you, trust me. You’re—” Dean cut himself off, sighing. He sat up fully, put his beer down, and turned to face you. “Trust me. It’s not you.” He put his hand over yours, making you look up at him.

‘Damn his gorgeous face,’ you thought. You would never be able to stay angry with him for too long. You surged forward and pressed his lips to yours, pushing him down on the couch.

***

If you couldn’t have anything else with Dean, you were going to have sex with him as much as humanly possible. Slowly but surely, he was giving you indications that he was forming feelings for you, too.

Dean started staying the night around a week into the two of you hooking up. You were pleasantly surprised when he’d hold you while you slept, too. The sex became more passionate as opposed to rough and hard, even though you thoroughly enjoyed both. He asked you questions about your upbringing and your job, and was giving you every signal that he was interested in you for more than just sex.

And then, he disappeared. You called him several times, but you never got an answer. To say you were crushed was an understatement.

Even though you’d only known Dean for three weeks, you were falling hard for him. He had an effect on you that no one else did. Dean was kind, compassionate, funny, smart, and although immature at times, he had all the makings of a wonderful man and partner. And just like that, he left. No word, no note— nothing. Just the night before he was telling you how glad he was that he met you. Maybe that should have been a sign that something was wrong, but you supposed hindsight was 20/20.

At work that day, you were a complete mess of smudged eyeliner, knotted hair pulled back in a claw clip, and puffy eyes from crying.

“You good, (Y/N/N)?” one of your coworkers asked when she found you on your smoke break.

The cigarette trembled between your fingers, and tears poured down your cheeks. Your only response was a frantic head nod.

She gave you a deadpan look. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

Holding the cigarette away from your face, you scrubbed your hand over your eyes. “Just this fucking guy.”

She grimaced, sucking in air through her teeth. “Shit. That’ll do it.”

“Yeah,” you sniffed. “On top of everything else that’s fucking falling apart in my life, I thought—” you cut yourself off, sighing. “Whatever. He’s a dick.” You took in a deep breath, trying to steel your nerves, and took a puff of your cigarette. You let out all the air and smoke from your lungs and turned to face your friend. “I gotta get back. I’m sure table twenty-five needs another fucking bucket of Michelob.” Having smoked almost the entire cigarette, you dropped it on the ground and stomped out the remaining embers.

Your coworker laughed as you opened the back door to the kitchen for her. “Let me know if you need anything,” she told you.

Nodding, you smiled in thanks for her kindness.

***

Truthfully, you were drowning. Bills just kept piling up, two more job applications had fallen through, and the restaurant had been slowing down on the weekdays steadily since summer ended. Tips were shitty, and your situation had gotten so bad, you’d need to start working a second job and taking the bus to work. If you couldn’t find a second job or a job your degree suited soon, you were screwed.

After yet another fight with your parents over how much of a screw-up you were in comparison to your brother and sister, you were done. You needed something to numb the world out. None of your friends were able to go out, seeing as it was a weeknight, and they all had “real” jobs.

And so, you sat on your couch and drank alone. You didn’t want to run up your power bill any more than it would already be this month, so you sat in silence with candles lit as you drank. Your logical mind knew this was a horrible idea— combining emotional exhaustion, fire hazards, and alcohol— but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

***

Your next late-night escapade with drinking came when you discovered you could numb out the feeling of being hungry with alcohol. The fridge and pantry were virtually empty, and you hadn’t had enough time or spare change to go to the grocery store after barely scraping by on rent and your bills the week prior.

Drinking also helped you to sleep through breakfast, so the only time you really needed to eat was lunch before going to work. You’d stopped responding to your friends’ texts, and your routine didn’t consist of anything aside from working, drinking, and applying to jobs.

The weeks droned by, and despite the chaos in your life, your thoughts were still of Dean. Why did he have so much power over you? You didn’t even really know him, and here you were, a complete fucking mess because he left without a word. You knew you couldn’t have been in love with him; maybe infatuation was a better way to describe your feelings for him.

Finally, your friend, Melanie, came over to drag you out of your misery. She did your hair and makeup, forced you to eat something, and brought you out on a Saturday night with your friend group. Her kindness was very much appreciated, and you thanked her profusely for it.

Your night out with your friends relit a bit of a fire in you. What kept you on even more of a high note was the interview you had a few days later at a bar. It had gone incredibly well, and the manager told you to expect a call very soon. Hope filled your chest at the thought of being able to have more than just a few cents left in your pocket after the monthly billing period.

***

You’d done it. You got the job! Your friends took you out once again as a celebration, and you felt like you were finally getting back to your old self. However, that was when your friends noticed something was wrong. You’d never been the friend to get blackout drunk; you were always holding your friends’ hair back while they threw up in the bathroom. And yet, you were as sloppily drunk as ever.

The next thing to catch their attention was you stumbling over to them with a seemingly arrogant prick’s arm around you.

“Guys,” you swallowed, “guys! This is…” you trailed off, not exactly sure what his name was. “Sorry, handsome, what’s your name?”

That was when another of your friends, Syriah, pulled you aside and away from the man. “(Y/N), what is wrong with you?” she asked.

Your eyes were immediately dewey. “What? What’d I do wrong?”

“Babe, you’re all over the place. What’s happening to you?” she asked compassionately, steadying you with her hands on your shoulders.

Tears slipped down your cheeks. “I don’t know,” you said earnestly, collapsing onto her shoulder when she pulled you into a tight hug. “I don’t like how this feels, Riah.”

She petted your hair and just held you against her. “Look, I’ll get you a cab. We just need to get you home safe, okay?”

You nodded into her shoulder, still hiccuping.

Once you got back to your apartment, you flopped down across the couch. Against your better judgment, you called Dean. Of course, he didn’t answer, so you left a voicemail. “Hey! Hi, Dee.” Your voice sounded funny because your cheek was pressed against your couch, and you laughed at yourself. “Sorry for calling, I, um—” you swallowed harshly, “I just miss you. A lot. And I don’t know why. ‘Cause I kinda hate you for leaving me, y’know? Like, what the— what the fuck is wrong with you? I’m a catch, okay.” You paused, hiccuping. “And another thing, it’s rude to leave without saying anything. I thought we were better friends than just fuck buddies. Why wouldn’t you— why wouldn’t you say something? Anything?” Sniffles and tears escaped you. “You suck, okay? But also, I miss your dick. Bring it back, okay? But fuck you.” And then, you hung up.

***

Thankfully, you woke up just in time the next day to get to your new job for training. You looked like a complete trainwreck, but you did your best to smooth out your hair and conceal the bags under your eyes on the bus ride there.

You went about working absentmindedly and did your best to smile and joke around with your trainer. After an exhausting day with little time to recount the events of the night before, you went back to your apartment to catch up on sleep. However, your nighttime routine was interrupted by frantic knocks on your door.

“Alright, alright I’m—” You cut yourself off, mouth going slack when you found Dean standing in front of your apartment.

“Dean?” you breathed out.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he smirked awkwardly.

You suddenly snapped yourself out of your surprise and became incredibly angry. “You have a lot of fucking nerve showing up here, do you know that? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry. Can we— Can we just talk, please?”

“Why should I even give you the time of day?!” you snarked incredulously.

“ ‘Cause you told me you miss me. And my dick,” he tried to charm you.

You scoffed. “What?! No, I didn’t.”

He clicked his tongue. “Yeah, you did. In your voicemail last night.”

Your heart dropped to your stomach as you remembered flashes of leaving that horrifically embarrassing voicemail. “Oh, fuck.” You dropped your face toward the floor, pinching your temples and thinking. “You’ve got five minutes,” you finally told Dean, letting him into your apartment.

“Look,” Dean began while you closed the door behind him, “I didn’t wanna leave.”

You scoffed again.

“I know. But I had to,” he explained.

“Why?” you asked. “If you had to leave, fine, but why couldn’t you at least call me back?”

“Because this isn’t good! For either of us,” he responded, voice rising slightly.

“Why?!” you pressed. “And what gives you the right to make that decision for me?!”

“Because I can’t give you what you want!” Dean argued. “I can’t stay for longer than a few weeks at a time. I can’t. And I can’t tell you why. And I’m making that decision because I know you won’t make that decision for yourself.”

“You don’t know me, Dean! We hooked up, for like, two fucking weeks!” you laughed incredulously. “I am perfectly capable of making decisions for myself, thank you!”

“I do know you. God, we are so much alike, and that’s just another reason why we don’t fucking work,” he responded. Then, Dean’s voice quieted considerably. “And, sweetheart, it’s not that I don’t want you. ‘Cause I do.”

“But we can’t see each other. ‘Cause you’ll just leave again,” you nodded, hugging yourself protectively.

Dean nodded, his hands in his pockets. “I’m sorry I left like I did.”

“I’m sorry I called you,” you told him.

He shook his head, eyes still fixed to the floor. “Don’t be.” Tears began to cloud your vision, and you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. “What are you still doing here, Dean?”

He didn’t respond for a moment. When he finally spoke, your breath caught in your throat. “I don’t wanna leave you.”

The next thing you knew, his lips were on yours. Through the rest of the night, the two of you apologized and made up and apologized again with deep kisses, your bodies connecting, and words murmured through shuddering breaths.

***

To your surprise, Dean was still in your bed the next morning with his arms wrapped around you. As much as you were angry at him for a little over two months, the night you shared and words you exchanged had you forgiving him easily.

He hummed, alerting you that he was awake, before promptly pulling you closer to him and burying his face in your neck. You giggled as Dean’s breath tickled your neck, and he peppered kisses against your skin.

“Mornin’,” his deep voice rumbled against you.

“Mm, morning,” you replied, a smile stretching across your face. You bit your lip, and you tugged at Dean’s hair while he sucked a dark mark onto your collar bone. “I better be able to cover that up with my work uniform, or I swear to god, asshole—”

“It’ll be fine,” Dean replied, kissing your collarbone. “You got work today?”

“Yeah,” you sighed. “New job.”

“Oh, wow! Good for you,” he told you, picking his face up from your neck.

“Eh, just another gig to make ends meet. Bar this time, though.”

“And the other one you work at’s a—”

“Restaurant—”

“—restaurant, right.”

You smiled at the fact that he remembered. “I’m working, like, fifty hours a week, now. But I gotta keep my lights on, y’know?”

“Jesus, that’s a lot,” Dean grimaced.

“What about you? You never told me what you do for work,” you told him.

“I don’t,” he replied quickly.

“Oh, god. Just what every girl wants to hear,” you joked.

Dean chuckled. “My dad’s settin’ me up to take over the family business since Sammy’s off to be a lawyer, or whatever.”

“Family business?” you prompted, hoping he’d explain a little bit more.

“Yeah,” he responded. You could tell he was dodging your question, but you wouldn’t make him talk if he didn’t want to. “For now, I’m just road-trippin’. Makin’ the most of my youth.”

“Well, I don’t know that hangin’ out with a girl like me is ‘making the most of your youth’,” you joked.

“What?” he replied. “You’re awesome, what are you talking about?”

You shrugged, getting out of your bed. Dean’s eyes followed you as you moved around your room trying to get yourself ready for the work day ahead. “I mean, I ain’t got much. Two bucks to my name, a useless ass college degree, fifty-thousand dollars in debt, and two siblings with a long list of accolades that make me look like literal sewer trash in comparison.”

Dean nodded. “In case you haven’t noticed, sweetheart, I’m pretty much in the same boat.”

You turned to him while you brushed your hair, struck by his words. “Yeah,” you nodded. “I guess you are.” A smile began to tug at your lips. “Makes me feel a little better knowing I’m not the only disappointment to their bloodline out there.”

Dean laughed. “Amen to that.” He then noticed the bottle of beer you’d pulled from the fridge across the small studio apartment from his position on the bed. “Whoa. Little early for that, isn’t it?”

You shrugged, “It’s five o’clock somewhere, I guess,” and took a large swig.

***

That day at work had been okay, and you were exhausted when you got back to your apartment. Dean was coming over, but you told him ahead of time that there would be no sex happening since you needed to get up early the next day. He’d given a petulant yet funny response but seemed eager to get over to you.

And that was how your routine continued for a few days. He would come over after you got off work, you’d have sex, rinse, and repeat. Then, after a particularly rough day, Dean found you indulging in the binge drinking habit you’d adopted.

He burst through the door to your apartment concerned only to find you watching the television with a beer in your hand. “Holy shit, (Y/N), why the fuck didn’t you answer?” Dean then seemed to notice the several empty bottles on your coffee table.

“I just didn’t wanna talk tonight, Dean, take the fucking hint,” you grumbled before finishing off the bottle in your hands.

“Okay, you’re cut off,” he told you, trying to help you up from the couch.

You jerked your arm away from him. “Don’t fucking touch me.”

Dean seemed angry, but his expression melted into something else. “How long has this been goin’ on?”

You scoffed. “Why do you care?” The words came out slurred. “You’re not my boyfriend or anything.”

“Dammit, (Y/N), that shouldn’t matter,” Dean insisted. “You know this isn’t good for you, right?”

A laugh escaped you. “You said the same thing about you, and you’re still here, aren’t you?”

That caught Dean off-guard, and he was silent, for once.

“Just go away, Dean,” you said quietly.

And he did.

***

The next day, you were horrified by your actions. You called Dean once; no answer. The second time you called, there was still no answer, but you left a voicemail. “Dean? Dean, I’m so sorry. I— I remember what I said to you last night. God, that was fucking horrible of me. Please come back. I’m so sorry. I’ll, uh, I’ll talk to you later, please?” You hung up, running a hand through your hair.

You did the only thing you could think to do in the moment and pulled out another beer. Your tolerance had certainly increased since you started binge drinking, and a bottle in the morning had become the equivalent to a cup of coffee.

Against your better judgment, you called out of work. You needed the money from both shifts you were scheduled for today, but you couldn’t bring yourself to go in.

Finally, Dean called back.

“Dean!” you squeaked as soon as you answered the phone. “God, I’m so sorry—”

“I know you are,” he told you. The silence between you was thick; neither of you completely sure what to say. “How long you been actin’ like Lebowski?”

That actually made you laugh despite the perhaps tone-deaf nature of the joke. “Meh, I’ve always liked to drink.” You considered your next words carefully. “It, uh, it started after you left.”

Silence encapsulated the two of you again.

“I’m so sorry,” was all Dean could say to you.

“No, no no!” you said. “It’s not your fault. I’m just a fucking mess, ‘s all.”

“Yeah, but if I would’ve picked up the fucking phone—”

“Dean,” you asserted. “It’s not your fault.”

He sighed heavily. “I’ll be over later, okay?”

“Okay.”

You took the day to try and get yourself together a bit. By the time Dean arrived, the apartment was sparkling, the empty beer bottles were picked up, and your hair and face had been washed.

Dean smirked lopsidedly when he noticed the work you’d been doing. “Good for you, sweetheart.”

***

That night, it was taking both you and Dean much longer than usual to fall asleep.

“What’s on your mind?” you asked him quietly.

“I’m not a good person, (Y/N),” he said, voice barely above a whisper.

“What?” you asked, putting your hand on the side of his face. However, he wouldn’t turn it up to look at you. “How could you say that?”

“I shouldn’t have left you,” he said.

“Dean, we already talked about this—”

“No,” he cut you off. “I meant last night.”

“Oh,” you replied, stomach flipping.

“I shouldn’t have left you like that,” Dean reiterated. “I just— I got so angry. ‘Cause you’re right. I’m not good for you. And it’s selfish of me to keep you on the hook like this.”

You felt your heart cracking in your chest. “Dean, I have no idea what we are or what we’ve been doing, but…”

“I know,” he said. “I care about you a lot, too.”

“But we’re not good for each other,” you admitted quietly. “I can’t— I can’t be what you deserve.” You swallowed harshly, tears brimming your eyes. “I’ve got too much shit going on. I can’t—”

Dean cut you off again. “I know,” he said, seeming like he was crying, too. “And I’m gonna have to keep leaving. And I don’t wanna leave. I don’t— I don’t know how to be alone.” Dean’s admission broke your heart, and you grabbed his hand. “I can’t give you a relationship. There’s just— There’s no room in my life for that.”

Your lip was trembling, but you tried your best to force your next words out. “It’s okay,” you said, even though it definitely didn’t feel okay.

“I don’t wanna just keep having sex while you’re in the state you’re in,” Dean continued. “That’s not fair to you.”

You nodded. “Thank you.”

He snorted, caught off-guard. “What?”

“Thank you. ‘Cause I wouldn’t have been able to tell you to go,” you said. “You were right.”

“I know you, (Y/N). I see too much of myself in you,” he admitted. “And I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too.”

A long moment passed between the two of you, the only noise coming from the window unit in your apartment.

“I’ll be gone when you wake up,” Dean told you, holding you against him.

As much as your heart was breaking, you stayed resting against Dean’s chest, the rising and falling of it soothing you to sleep.

When the sunlight streamed through the curtains and hit your eyes, you realized Dean followed through with his promise.

***

Four years went by. The first one had dragged as you healed yourself from your addiction and the loss of Dean. Admittedly, you’d tried several times to get in contact with him, but the number had been disconnected. The next year, you began to feel happy again. You’d gotten a steady job, had tons of alcohol-free fun with your friends, and generally had a more positive outlook on life.

That third year, though, your life would change forever. The world of monsters, spirits, and demons was unveiled to you when your sister was found dead. The police arrested her husband since your mother had told them the couple had been having problems in the months leading up to her death, but you knew your brother-in-law wouldn’t do that. Everyone insisted you were just in denial, but your gut told you there was something else going on.

The way she died raised red flags for you, too. It almost looked like she’d been mauled by an animal, and some of her organs were missing. Her husband was a relatively stable person; no way was he capable of something like that. And if he was, where were her organs? Why would he have left her on the living room floor in a pool of her own blood? Why did he call the cops himself? Nothing was adding up in your mind.

As any person desperate for answers would, you turned to a psychic. She introduced you to the idea that your sister had died being attacked by a werewolf. At first, you laughed, insisting she was crazy. When all the evidence was presented to you, though, it was the only explanation that made sense.

From that moment forward, you trained and researched relentlessly to try your hand at hunting. You knew that going it alone would be dangerous, but there wasn’t exactly anyone else in your life you could talk to about what you knew.

The day after you met with the medium, you abandoned your apartment, cell phone, laptop, and car, and hit the road.

A year into your new life of motel rooms and gas station dinners between ghost hunts, your job brought you to Wisconsin where a college athlete drowned in a lake outside her home. You’d already interviewed the girl’s father and brother as well as the local police chief that morning. Around one o’clock, you were starving and headed out of your room to get some lunch.

When you rounded the corner of the building to head to your car parked in the front lot, you slammed into a wall of solid muscle. The man grunted, as did you.

“Oh my god, I’m so—” you cut yourself off when you realized who you were looking at.

“(Y/N)?” he breathed out.

“Hi, Dean.”

Forever taglist is open! :)

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x you #dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean winchester x reader angst #dean winchester angst #dean angst #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfic #spn #supernatural #dean winchester #fic request

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shockercoco · 5 months

Text

Modern Loneliness

Major John Egan x reader

Warnings - little bit of angst, but mostly fluff

Word count - 2159

a/n - this was literally supposed to be posted over a month ago for the ending of MOTA, but I kept writing for Austin lol. Might as well get it out the drafts now. I also basically had to rewrite the whole thing bc wtf was I thinking a month ago. I hope you enjoy :)

The war is finally over, allowing all the soldiers to go home, including the two best friends Buck and Bucky. The only thing holding Bucky back from being completely content about leaving is the fact that he doesn’t have that special someone to go back to.

Buck has Marge, and of course he’s happy for him, but Bucky just wishes had found a girl before he got sent off, someone who would know how he was before the war. Buck would always tell him not to worry and that he would find someone soon, but each time it doesn’t give him any reassurance.

You have been best friends with Marge since college, so when she told you her fiance was coming home you had nothing but joy for her. You had been a huge supporter of their relationship since the beginning, and while Buck was away you were always at her house comforting her for when she cried or just needed a friend. During his absence, Buck would write to you to check in on Marge because you and him both knew Marge would never tell him how she was really doing.

Currently, you are walking out of her front door to go back home when you see a taxi pull up in the driveway. You didn’t think anything of it until you saw Buck exiting the vehicle with his bags in hand. You shout for Marge to come outside, and it doesn’t take long for her to sprint into Buck’s arms after seeing him in the driveway. With a smile, you watched as he held onto her tightly and so lovingly, knowing this is exactly what Marge needed after a bad week.

Deep down, though, you were wishing you had someone coming home to you, someone whose arms you could run into and kiss you like his life depended on it. When it came to the dating scene you never had much luck, so after a while you just accepted the defeat and gave up, deciding it was better to put your energy towards your career.

During your girl talks, Marge would always tell you that you would find someone soon, and how perfect of a person you were, but year after year of not finding a relationship was making it hard to believe her.

A couple days after Buck’s return, Marge invited you over because she was hosting a barbeque for Buck and some of his friends. You tried your best to get out of it, but she wouldn’t take no for an answer. She also mentioned that Bucky – Buck’s friend from the military who you’ve only heard while reading letters – would be there and that it would be an opportunity for you.

You didn’t find it unusual that she was trying to set you up with someone because this is what she always does, but you just weren’t in the mood to have small talk with a guy who probably wouldn’t find you attractive.

When Buck had invited Bucky – because when are they not together – he turned down the offer, and just like Marge, Buck wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

So, now here you were in Marge’s backyard surrounded by men and their partners. The only people you knew were the hosts, so you sat on the steps of the back porch with Marge beside you. Marge also didn’t know many of the guests given the fact everyone was Buck’s friend from the military, so she kept you company as she watched Buck man the grill with a few other guys beside him.

Bucky was among them, standing right next to his best friend and sipping on a beer as he talked. Every now and again, he would run a hand through his hair to push some of his loose curls, and you couldn’t deny the fact that he was attractive as you found yourself admiring him from a distance.

“Are you going to say something to him?” Marge asked you as she swished around the lemonade in her glass. She had been watching you this whole time as you practically drooled in the direction of the grill.

“Of course not,” you say as you turn your attention back to her, not before glancing around to see if anyone else had caught you staring.

Thankfully some of the women had formed a little group and were laughing and gossiping amongst themselves, so there was little chance anyone had noticed you.

“And why not?” asked Marge with furrowed brows. “He’s a nice guy, I promise.”

“I’m sure he is, but it’s not like I know what to say. Plus look at him, he’s way out of my league,” you reply as you take a sip of lemonade from your own glass.

“No he’s not, he’s just like any other guy,” she scoffs followed by a laugh.

“And just like with any other guy, I have nothing to talk about. What do we even have in common? He also just got back from a war camp in Europe, what if I say something that triggers him?

“You’re overthinking. Just start off with a simple hello, and then go from there. He’s a huge flirt so knowing him he’ll do most of the talking,” she smiles.

She was always so optimistic about these kinds of things, but you would be too if you were getting married to a guy who basically worships you.

You quickly finish the last of your lemonade before standing up. “I’m going to get a refill,” you mumble as you walk up the steps and into the house. You needed an excuse to get away from the conversation, and to get out of the heat. The sundress you were wearing was cute and gave you airflow, but it also exposed your arms and legs to harsh sun.

You head into the kitchen and open the fridge to take out the pitcher of lemonade Marge had made earlier in the day. After refilling your glass, you thought it was best to linger in the kitchen for a bit longer and decided to grab a plate of fruit out of the fridge to keep you busy.

Just as you jump up on the kitchen counter to get comfortable, you hear the back door opening. Next thing you know, you see Bucky walking into the kitchen, letting out a sigh that seems to be of exhaustion. He flashes you a smile when he notices you, before proceeding to grab another beer out of the fridge.

“You’re Marge’s friend right?” he asks as he shuts the door and turns to face you.

“Yep,” is all you say before sticking a grape in your mouth.

“I’m John, but everyone calls me Bucky,” he says. He makes direct eye contact as sticks a hand out for you to shake, which you do, before popping the cap off his beer.

“So I’ve heard. I’ve seen your picture in Marge’s letters,” you respond as you focus your attention on the plate in your hands and begin moving some fruit around.

“Oh, yeah? Did I atleast look good in those pictures? Buck never lets me read his letters,” He smirks as he leans against the counter opposite from you.

You almost choke on the piece of fruit you had just placed in your mouth from his statement. You feel your face and ears turning warm so you turn your head and look out the kitchen window to avoid his gaze.

You stop yourself from smiling and cover it by clearing your throat. “Well you were in a uniform and in black and white, so I couldn’t really tell.”

“Understandable, black and white photos can be misleading,” he jokes, taking a swig from his bear. There’s a short silence that follows that isn’t completely awkward, but not exactly comfortable to you either. You hope he doesn’t notice.

The silence is interrupted by the back door opening and Marge sticking her head inside. She grins as her eyes flicker between you and Bucky before stopping on you to say, “Are you coming back out or what?”

“In a second, I’m just going to cool off in here for a bit,” you tell her. She gives you a nod before closing the door.

“Not a fan of big gatherings, I take it,” Bucky says once Marge is gone.

“What makes you say that?” you steal a glance at him before looking back out the window.

You smile as you watch Marge join Buck at the grill, making him turn his head to give her a quick kiss.

“I can tell you’re avoiding going back outside, and I don’t blame you. I’m doing the same thing myself,” he answers.

“What are you avoiding?” you finally turn your head to face him.

“Nothing specific really, I’m just not in the mood for conversating and answering people’s questions right now. That doesn’t include you though,” he looks over at you with a small smile. ” I used to love being around people and having fun, but now all I want to do is leave.”

You watch as Bucky stares at the wall, going distant. His mood seems to have shifted from the one he had when he first stepped foot in the kitchen. “Everything okay?”

Your voice interrupts his thoughts and brings him back to the present. “Yeah, I’m fine…I’m just…I can tell I’m a different person ever since I got back, and I’m not sure I like this version of me.” He sets his beer on the counter and folds his arms, no longer in the mood to drink it.

“I don’t think anyone expects you to be the same.”

“Well yeah, it’s just the fact that everyone I meet from now on will only know this version of me. They won’t know how different I was before the war, and they won’t understand what I’ve been through. Like Buck has Marge to talk to, and she understands because of the letters he would send her. I don’t have that,” Bucky says before adding, “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to dump this all on you.”

You just give him a smile. Even though you will never understand completely what Bucky went through, you do have some grasp on what he’s feeling. To you it’s obvious that he puts on a mask when he’s around people, and won’t let his feelings show unless he’s alone – harboring his emotions.

“I know how close you are with Buck, have you ever told him about how you felt? It always helps to talk to someone.” you tell him.

He shakes his head, “No, I don’t want to bother him. He has his own problems.”

“I’m sure he wouldn’t mind,” you tell him, but he just shakes his head again. “Well...I know we’ve just met, but you could talk to me. I mean, you just opened up to me in a kitchen within ten minutes of meeting me. I’m obviously a great listener Only if you want to, though,” you end with a hopeful smile.

Bucky finally looks away from the wall to look you in the eye with his eyebrows raised. “Really?�� he asks and you nod. “That would be nice.”

And that’s where the bond between the two of you started, and it only continued to grow stronger. You would meet up with him for drinks, lunch, or just for a walk through the park. Bucky would tell you everything, from him joining the military and meeting Buck to what he has experienced throughout the past few years. You could tell that he would get emotional when he brought up certain topics, but he never cried around you, even though you always encouraged him to let his feelings out.

One day when he invited you to dinner, you brought it up to Marge. She quickly got excited and said it was a date, but you just brushed it off and told her it was just another casual meeting. Nonetheless, you still decided to put effort into your appearance – more than you normally do – and once the dinner was over, you realized she was right.

Bucky ended up confessing to you how his feelings for you have grown over the past few weeks. At first you were shocked, but when you realized he was being serious, you admitted that you felt the same way.

You didn’t care that Bucky thought he was a ruined person with a lot of baggage, everyone has their hardships, after all. Bucky loved how you enjoyed being with him after everything he had told you, and how you accepted him for who he is now.

When you eventually told Marge that you and Bucky were official, she wasn’t surprised at all and brought up how she always said you would find someone. When Bucky had told his best friend, Buck was happy for him and gave Bucky his fair share of I told you so’s.

#callum turner x reader #callum turner #callum turner imagine #major john egan x reader #major john egan #mota #mota fanfic #mastersoftheair #austin butler x reader #major gale cleven #austin butler

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holymusicalmothman · 1 year

Text

Sweet Nothings -- OPLA!Sanji x Reader

I've only seen the Live Action, so this is new for me. I started reading the manga a few hours ago and the anime is bookmarked on my Crunchyroll. But for now, I'm working with what I've got. So this is exclusively the Live Action. Best friends to Lovers Trope cause I wanted to. I'm not entirely happy with how this turned out so I might redo it at some point.

Also, shoutout to @avidanadvocacy who managed to like and reblog this within, like, five seconds of me posting it. They're probably the only reason I sat down and wrote this lol

Warnings: vague mentions of canon typical violence, reader is very cautious of showing the fact they're rather soft (not sure if that counts as a warning or makes sense, I'm tired lol)

No use of y/n, or those weird descriptor things, reader is gender neutral. Reader is however you imagine them

Word Count: 2.5k

Masterlist

I spy with my little tired eye Tiny as a firefly A pebble that we picked up last July Down deep inside your pocket We almost forgot it Does it ever miss Wicklow sometimes?

You had known Sanji since you were young. You had both been around twelve at the time Zeff took you in, after you had been abandoned rather unceremoniously at the Baratie. You couldn’t remember much about the pirates who had left you behind, not that it mattered to you. You were thankful, even after all the years since, that Zeff had taken you in. You weren’t a skilled cook, but you were diligent and hard working, so you worked as a head waiter.

Having grown up around Sanji, you were used to his…antics. He was a flirt to each and every female customer, but whenever you asked, he would wave you off and laugh about it being how he simply ‘gets the customers to keep coming back.’ And you’d roll your eyes and continue on with your business. He had been your best friend for years. When you had initially met, you had simply clicked and that was that. Nothing to it.

He would make you smile on your worst days and you’d do the same for him. Because that’s what friends do. Right?

The first moment you had doubted that his friendship was just that was the day he lent you his coat.

You had just stopped in the kitchen to drop off orders and take a quick breather. The lunch rush at the Baratie was merciless on a good day.

The winds had shifted earlier in the day and despite the hustle and bustle of the restaurant, a chill passed through you and you shivered.

Within moments, a navy blue suit jacket had been deposited around your shoulders.

You turned to see Sanji grinning at you.

“Wouldn’t do for our favorite waiter to catch cold now, would it?” He said before walking deeper into the kitchen.

You smiled at his retreating form, then slipped your arms into the coat properly and rolled the sleeves so that you’d be able to work.

A bit of time had passed since then, and you stopped to survey the tables around the restaurant, putting your hands into the pockets of Sanji’s jacket.

Your fingers brushed against something and you pulled it out in confusion.

A pebble sat in the palm of your hand. Just as blue as the day you had initially found it two years back.

Zeff had sent you both for supplies and you had spotted it. It was a stunning cerulean blue and you had immediately thought of your best friend. He had told you of the All Blue, and ever since that moment you had associated the color with him. Not every shade of blue, of course, but only the ones that were the most beautiful. One’s that caught the eye and seemed to shimmer.

You had almost forgotten the tiny pebble. But this jacket…Sanji’s favorite. There would be no way he’d be unaware of it being in the pocket.

You put the stone back. Your mind racing.

They said the end is coming Everyone's up to something I find myself running home to your sweet nothings Outside, they're push and shoving You're in the kitchen humming All that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing

The one thing you didn’t like about the Baratie was the fighting. You knew it was inevitable, especially with pirates. You were old enough now to look past it. It was a fact of life. Sometimes it was genuine fighting, other times customers simply got into little spats that were easier to ignore.

You sighed and wandered into the kitchen. Zeff had stepped out to smooth the wrinkles on whatever argument had broken out. To be entirely honest, the dinner shift had taken it out of you and you were exhausted.

You plopped down in a chair off to the side with another heavy sigh and shut your eyes.

The clink of dishware being set before you and a chair scraping the ground next to you brought you to open your eyes again.

A rice dish sat in front of you, a glass of water next to it. Sanji’s eyes watched you carefully.

“What is it?” You knew the Baratie menu inside and out, and this was definitely not on it.

A signature smile graced his face. “Seafood risotto. Nothing terribly fancy, just terribly good.”

“Does Zeff know about this?” You asked, taking a bite. It was divine.

Blue eyes twinkled. “What the old man doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” Sanji paused, smile fading and voice growing soft. “You seem tired, sweetheart.”

You tried to squash the flutter in your chest. It had been months since you found the pebble in Sanji’s coat, and you had found out that he always carried it. Your heart had run away with that information. And while the blond had called you by the same pet name for years, it felt different now that your affections towards your best friend had shifted. You kept the information to yourself, afraid of change.

So instead you shrugged, continuing to eat. “I guess I’m a little tired? The dining room has kept me on my toes all day and I didn’t sleep very easy last night.”

Sanji’s brows furrow in concern at that. “Well, make sure you finish eating. And try and get some better sleep tonight. For me, yeah?”

You swallowed. He always looked at you so sweetly. Always treated you so differently than the girls he flirted with for good tips. Now he was giving you that small smile, blond hair in his face as always, but the softness in his eyes was unmistakable.

You nodded, “Of course, Sanji.”

Your heart was doing somersaults.

On the way home I wrote a poem You say, "What a mind" This happens all the time

Monkey D Luffy came barrelling into both your lives like a cannonball. One moment life was as it had been for years, the next finds both you and Sanji preparing to leave the Baratie and join the crew of the Going Merry

You weren’t sure why Luffy had insisted you come too. When you had asked him, he had only shrugged with a smile, saying that it had felt like the right thing to do.

So, you made yourself useful where you could. Whether it be helping Sanji, or any of the other Straw Hats.

Luffy had soon after discovered that you enjoyed writing.

It was the day before everything went wrong.

You and Sanji had left the Baratie that afternoon, Zorro was on the road to recovery from his battle against Dracule Mihawk, and everything seemed fine .

A conversation of dreams had even arisen over a meal, and you had shyly mentioned how you enjoyed writing. Not that there was time for it while waiting tables.

Sanji was surprised and intrigued to find a new side of you. You had never mentioned it to him. It was just a silly little hobby in your eyes and, in the life you led, you had always kept those simple things to yourself. Not even sharing them with your best friend.

Luffy, however, had been delighted and immediately asked if you would document the voyage.

Granted, his wording had been more along the lines of “write down our adventures”, but same thing.

Later that night, Sanji had found you on the deck, a new journal in your hand.

“A writer, eh?” He had that soft voice again.

You nodded, refusing to look at him properly. “I want to be a famous poet someday.” You whispered, inwardly afraid of making such an admission.

The years on the Baratie had led you to shove all the soft spoken emotions deep down, gentleness was not a trait most pirates were fond of. But your new captain was the exact opposite, his kindness earning your trust instantly. You knew without a shadow of a doubt that you had found a new and true friend in Luffy.

But you’d never replace Sanji.

Your heart seemed to clench and you opened your mouth to apologize for keeping it from him, but when you looked at him, your breath caught and your voice failed you.

The chef was always sweet on you, but he looked at you in that moment as if you had hung the stars.

“What a mind.” He said quietly, as if he was simply in awe of you.

Unbeknownst to you, Sanji had been looking at you like that for years. There was a reason he called you sweetheart, why you were always the first to try his new creations, why he treated you so differently than all the other girls. A reason why he was so sweet on you.

Everyone could see it. Zorro knew. Nami knew. Usopp knew. Luffy knew. The young captain had made sure to bring you both from the Baratie. If it meant he had to separate the two of you, then Luffy would have never had Sanji come aboard as Chef.

Even Zeff knew. Which was why he had let you both go.

However, you couldn’t see it.

But in that moment, with Sanji looking at you, you were ready to throw it all away. Willing to possibly ruin years of friendship if it just meant you could kiss him once.

'Cause they said the end is coming Everyone's up to something I find myself running home to your sweet nothings Outside, they're push and shoving You're in the kitchen humming All that you ever wanted from me was nothing

Nami’s betrayal had shocked you all to the core. You had only known her for such a short time, but it had still hurt.

Sanji was convinced that her alliance with Arlong wasn’t something she had chosen. Zorro seemed to only see it in black and white, positive that she had made her choice.

Luffy simply wanted to hear the truth from Nami herself. And only then would he believe it.

So the Going Merry was currently sailing for the Conomi Islands just to hear that truth.

It was once again late at night, but sleep would not come. The day’s events play over and over in your mind, keeping you wide awake.

So you headed quietly to the kitchen only to find the light on and an equally awake Sanji sitting quietly with a cup of tea, humming to himself.

You froze. You had almost kissed him the night before, fear holding you back.

But he had already seen you.

“Can’t sleep either, can you, sweetheart?”

You gave up on resisting, going to sit beside him.

Without speaking, he poured you a cup of tea, setting it before you.

“Chamomile. Should help.” Was all he said.

The day had left you both content with each other’s silence as you sat next to each other, shoulders brushing lightly. Sanji eventually went back to humming.

You couldn’t tell if it was the gentle movement of the ship as it sailed, the tea, or even Sanji himself humming softly next to you, but eventually your eyes shut.

Vaguely, you were aware of being carried and eventually set down gently in your hammock.

Something brushed your forehead and you thought you heard Sanji’s voice before you drifted fully into sleep. You felt almost certain it was a kiss, but you were too deep in the fog of sleep to deem that true. It had most likely been your imagination.

“Sweet dreams, sweetheart.”

Industry disruptors and soul deconstructors And smooth-talking hucksters out glad-handing each other And the voices that implore, "You should be doing more" To you, I can admit that I'm just too soft for all of it

The fight against Arlong and his pirates had once again changed everything overnight. You wouldn’t lie, it was terrifying. But you had prevailed. The Straw Hats won in the end. Nami and her village were safe.

It had brought so many things to light for you. As soon as you had all reboarded the Going Merry, you dutifully recorded the events of the day, from the villagers of Coco Village to the fight at Arlong Park, you made your way to the kitchen, needing solace from your best friend.

Your emotions had been bottled the whole day. Yes, fighting was inevitable. You were a pirate, it was simply a fact of life. But you still didn’t like it.

“Sanji?” You called.

The kitchen was empty to your surprise, so you made your way to the deck, finding him by the tangerine trees.

He had the pebble in his hand as you walked up and your heart began to race. He slipped it back into his pocket as he noticed you and you pretended not to see.

Instead you wrapped your arms around his middle, and Sanji instantly returned your hug, holding you close.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

“I don’t know. I think…” you trailed off.

Sanji released you from the hug, but still kept you within his arms. “You know you can tell me anything, right?”

You nodded. “I think…I’m too soft for all this sometimes.” You admitted slowly. “I mean, I can do it, don’t get me wrong. But, Sanji, today was terrifying. And the Grand Line is supposed to be worse.”

That twinkle and smile were back again. “You’re not too soft, sweetheart. You’re perfect. You were strong today, and I know you don’t like fighting. But you’re brave, and you protect those you care about. Being soft doesn’t make you weak.”

“But what if it does?” Your voice dropped to a whisper. “Because–”

You stopped, confessions halting on your lips.

“Because what, sweetheart? Stop hiding yourself, it’s just me.”

“That’s exactly why I’m hiding.”

He frowned in confusion, silently imploring you to continue.

“Because you make me feel soft. I kept my writing to myself because somehow it always ended up being about you. Whether it be the way you look at me or even the fact you kept that pebble.”

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. Apparently he had genuinely thought you hadn’t noticed.

“We’re supposed to be pirates, Sanji. There’s no softness allowed in this profession.”

He gently pulled you a little closer, warm breath now able to be felt on your face as he spoke, “I think we’ve already proven we’re a different sort of pirate than what’s expected, sweetheart.”

You were drowning in an ocean of greyish blue. The little nickname. That tiny sweet nothing. It wore down any and all of the final doubts and reserves in your mind and the two of you melted into each other.

He held you tightly, arms around you as both your hands grabbed tightly to his shirt, the both of you lost in a kiss that seemed like forever.

Eventually it ended, and he rested his forehead gently against yours.

“I’m in love with you, sweetheart.” He said gently. “How’s that for being soft, hmm?”

A small smile formed upon your face. The both of you had been oblivious to the other, yes. But at the same time, all of Sanji’s little sweet nothings over the years–both in words and actions–played quickly through your head. The past week had pulled everything straight to the surface.

“I love you, too.”

All that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothings.

Not entirely happy with this but it's late. Let me know what you think. I'm still new to this fandom, and there's a lot of content that I've yet to learn about. But I'll get there.

#sanji x reader #opla sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji #one piece live action #one piece x reader #one piece live action x reader #thismothwrites

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astermath · 1 year

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pairing: robin buckley x fem!reader

summary: robin falls head over heels for the cool girl renting horror movies at family video. steve can’t believe her awkward shyness is actually landing her a date, but he’s happy for her nonetheless.

word count: idk kinda short lol under 1K

notes: just wanted to write a little blurb, then it turned into something else, so enjoy this short little meet cute with robin ♡

normal sized font below!

Robin really is that love at first sight kinda girl.

She’s the type of girl to be busy sorting tapes at family video, when you walk in, all pretty femininity and mysterious aura around you. And suddenly she doesn’t know what to do with herself. She doesn’t know where she is, why she’s there, hell, she probably wouldn’t be able to tell you her name if she asked.

She doesn’t stop staring at you, not when you enter and not when you walk over to the horror section to pick something out. Only when Steve nudges her in her side, she snaps out of it, looking more flustered than ever.

“Dude, can you not?”

“Sorry man, it just— looked like you were falling asleep with your eyes open! What’s with you anyways?”

Robin doesn’t respond, simply averting her eyes to the cash register and hoping Steve doesn’t pry any further.

Which would have worked, if you weren’t talking to her right now.

“I’m sorry, can I—“

“Yes! Yes, absolutely, you can…” Robin trails off, realising she hasn’t even let you finish your request. Her own eagerness embarrasses her to no end, her face heating up and her cheeks now closely resembling the colour of a tomato.

To her surprise, you giggle. You’re not awkward about it at all, which somehow makes her fall for you even harder.

“I was gonna ask what the latest time would be when I’d be able to return this.” you smile, and the blonde girl is certain it’s the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen.

“Oh! Yeah, totally, no problem! It’s uh— a great choice, by the way. I love friday the 13th, sooo good, all that horror stuff, a huge fan—“

“A week.” Steve interrupts her rambling.

“Huh?” Robin turns to her friend.

“To answer her question, since you’re too busy being head over heels over here.”

You chuckle again, and Robin genuinely thinks her head is going to explode. Not only is her best friend making fun of her in front of you, but you’re not even making her feel bad about it. It’s like you find it cute or something. How crazy is that?

“Cool, I’ll just uh,” you hold up the tape, “rent this one then.”

Robin rings you up, her hands moving faster than her mind, and she hopes you don’t notice the slight shakiness in them. It’s not every day the prettiest girl in the whole world shows up at her job, so she’s not exactly prepared.

“Thanks,” you take the tape from her along with the receipt, your fingers touching slightly when she slides them over. Now you’re the one who’s getting the butterflies.

“So, you said you were a fan of horror movies?”

Robin nods enthusiastically, while Steve has to bite his tongue to hold back from saying that that’s the biggest lie ever. Robin isn’t a coward, not at all, but she’s the worst at scary movies. She’s just saying all this to impress you. She doubts it’s working though.

“Well, I was gonna watch this alone, but…” you grab a pen off the counter and scribble down your number on the receipt. “If you feel like watching it together, give me a call…” you pause to read her name tag. “Robin.” You smile again. “Nice name.”

“T-Thanks! You uh, you too!”

“Thanks, even though I… Haven’t told you yet.” You write your name down next to the number. “Now you know.”

“Huh…” She reads it over, not being able to keep herself from smiling like she’s sunshine incarnate. “That is a really nice name though.”

You grin, grabbing the tape off the counter and stuffing it in your bag. “Well, Robin, I’m free this Friday, if you wanna take me up on the offer.” You start walking backwards and give her a quick wave. “See y’around.”

She waves back, although more hesitant. Frankly, she’s still processing the entire encounter, and the fact that you’re real. Someone as beautiful as you exists, talked to her, even gave her your number. She didn’t know a reality like that was possible.

“I can’t believe that worked.” Steve scoffs in disbelief, though he’s pretty stoked for Robin all in all. He wants his friend to find her special person as much as he does for himself.

“Yeah,” she stares as you walk off, “me too.”

The freckled girl groans loudly and drops her head into her hands. “Why the fuck did I say any of that? Why do I always just keep talking?”

“I don’t see the big deal Buckley,” her coworker leans against the counter, “you got your date, don’t you?”

“Yeah, but then what? Then what do I do? I might have been able to charm her with my awkward idiocy this time, but what if we watch the movie and she finds out I’m a huge wuss!” She gestures around wildly with her hands, earning a confused stare from one of the older customers.

“This is going to sound so stupid, and I can’t believe I’m saying this,” he runs his hand through his brown locks, “but just like, be yourself? She seems nice enough, I’m sure she won’t judge you for being a total scaredy cat.”

“Not helping, Harrington.” She gives him a defeated look.

“Sorry, you know what I mean.”

“But what if she does?”

“What?”

“What if she does judge me? I mean jesus Steve, I wouldn’t blame her! She’s like— way out of my coolness league! She’s practically doing charity work watching a movie with me.”

Steve scoffs. “Don’t sell yourself short, Buckley, you’re plenty cool. Besides, if she does judge you, then clearly she’s not worth it. But again, I think you’ll be fine.”

“Yeah,” she sighs, already picturing her holding onto you in fear of a completely fictional serial killer. “I guess you’re right.” She goes quiet for a moment, before she’s back to daydreaming about the whole scenario. The two of you on your couch, shoulders touching, maybe an arm around her, hands brushing when you reach for the popcorn, all that sappy stuff…

“Buckley?”

Maybe you’d find it cute that she gets scared. Maybe you’d wanna protect her. She gets that vibe from you, that you’d keep her safe from all the Freddy Kruegers and Jason Voorhees of the world.

“Robin!”

Steve snaps her out of her daydreaming, gesturing towards Keith who’s about to enter the store.

“You two organise those tapes like I asked you to?” Their manager isn’t even looking at them, struggling with putting away his car keys.

Robin swipes the tapes off the counter and stuffs them randomly into the two boxes. That’s a problem for later.

“Yup! All sorted! Good thing I love organising stuff!” She laughs awkwardly, and Steve is fighting for his life trying not to laugh.

She’s got bigger things to worry about right now. Like what to wear for her date with you. And what kind of snacks you like to eat with your movies. And how she’s going to explain that the scariest thing she can handle is Frankenweenie.

comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!

#robinmath #aster writes stranger things #robin buckley x y/n #robin buckley #robin buckley imagine #robin buckley x female reader #robin buckley stranger things #robin buckley x you #robin buckley x reader #robin buckley x fem!reader #robin buckley fic #robin buckley drabble #robin buckley blurb #platonic stobin #platonic!stobin #robin buckley fluff

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moni-logues · 5 months

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Scoreboard

Pairing: Bangchan x reader (afab)

Genre: pwp/smut, friends-to-lovers

Word count: 2.4k

Summary: A handjob between friends? That's deniable. You can walk that back. Oral? You weren't so sure about that, but Chan was adamant he had to keep things fair..

Content: oral sex (f. receiving), fingering

A/N: DIFFERENT SPACES COUPLE RETURNS!!!!!! A few people had asked about a part two, and I have thought about it, uh, not just a few times lol so here we finally are. WAS I going to let them have sex in part 2? Yes. HAVE I done that? .... No. You'll just have to ask for part 3, losers!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

(I don't think you have to have read the first part to enjoy this but you'd probably get a little more out of it if you have read it)

also yes, unbeta'd etc

*~*~

You could have kissed him forever. Would have were other parts of you a little more patient, a little more willing to take things slow. But you’d wanted Chan for weeks, months, almost years, and now he was finally here, beneath you, kissing you, hands skating softly up the curve of your waist, hesitating at your ribs.

You weren’t hesitating. Not anymore. You pulled back from him so you could strip yourself of your top and you threw your bra with it. Didn’t give him a chance to react, to take you in. Just took his face in your hands and his bottom lip between your teeth again.

“Touch me,” you mumbled, mouth still pressed against his, and you guided his hands upwards, cupped them over your breasts, prayed you wouldn’t have to keep coaxing action out of him.

Because he had said he wanted it. He was kissing you like he wanted it. He had said so. Well, he had said he ‘was amenable’ to sex, which wasn’t exactly gushing enthusiasm but you would take it.

“Chan,” you whispered, taking a beat.

You sat back on your heels, inhaled deeply, and looked at him. He looked at you, colour high on his cheeks, ears burning, a little dazed, a little unsure.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” you asked.

You were crossing a line. That was certain. You were pretty sure that, if you stopped now, you could take it all back. You could rewind this evening and just be friends again. If he wanted. But going forward meant going forward. No returns. You would rather have him as a friend than nothing else, so you needed him to be sure now, right now at this moment, with your toes just over the line.

“Yes!” he said, urgent, emphatic. “Yes, I do. I’m just...”

He groaned and dragged his hands down his face. He didn’t look at you when he spoke next.

“I’m fucking nervous.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s you.”

“What am I?”

He looked at you then, wide and open and the cutest he’d ever been. His hands hesitated in the air, not quite reaching out for you, but not not. You held them, shuffled yourself forward on his lap again, pushed his hair from his forehead.

“Hmm,” you said, contemplating his brow. You tapped it lightly with one finger. “I think you might be thinking too much about this.”

“That doesn’t sound like me,” he laughed.

“Close your eyes, Channie.”

You didn’t. You kept them trained on his face. You needed to think now; you needed to slow yourself down so he could catch up. You’d had months to think about this, fantasise about it, dream about it: a thousand scenarios, a thousand acts, a thousand kisses... You had had time, you reminded yourself, to wait for this. Much longer than he had.

And you still had time. This wasn’t a race. The ache in your core was persistent, was impatient, but you didn’t have to be.

You put your lips to his and kissed him. Slow. Deep. It didn’t have to go anywhere, you told yourself, hoping that Chan was somehow getting the message, too. He didn’t have to be nervous, because you wouldn’t do anything he didn’t want to.

You just needed to know what he did want and you would give him the time to tell you.

Eventually, you felt his body relax a little; he leant back, shuffling down on the sofa and pulling you with him. He let his hands roam, grazed a nipple with his thumb a little experimentally until you moaned into his mouth for more. His hands were warm, like his heart, and firm, kneading at your breasts, pinching at your nipples and then pushing you backwards.

With no hesitation this time, no nervous giggles, no shy glances, he put his lips around your tight bud and sucked. He kissed and he licked and he carefully grazed his teeth over you, fully absorbed in the moment. His hot breath against your skin made you shiver and his wet tongue made you wetter.

When you felt as though he had traversed the peaks and valleys of your chest quite enough, you gave a tug at his hair and he finally flicked his eyes to yours. They were black and glazed and the look in them was like nothing you had seen from him before. It sent a thrill racing up your spine and you were about to tell him: how much you wanted him, how good that mouth was, how you wanted it elsewhere, but he spoke first.

“I want to go down on you.”

You choked, shocked out of your lustful stupor. You laughed.

“I thought you were nervous!”

His eyes lightened then, eyebrows raised.

“Are you? We don’t have to- I-”

“No!” You were quick to cut him off, desperate not to let him start thinking again, very happy with where his feelings were leading. “I want to. I want you to. Just... wasn’t expecting you to say it like that.”

The blush was back on his face but he wasn’t so bashful this time. Not quite. There was too much desire there, too much greed.

You stepped off from the sofa and, in one smooth motion, pushed your leggings and underwear to the floor. You kicked them off your feet and rejoined Chan on the sofa, swinging one leg over him, leaning down onto your elbows to resume where you had left off. Your lips were almost touching when his hands came down onto your hips and he swore.

“Fuck! Fuck, you are naked.”

“Yes, that tends to happen when you take your clothes off.”

His touch rounded your backside, another curse escaping on an exhale as his hands roamed this undiscovered territory. You took the opportunity of the distraction to kiss him, but it didn’t last long.

“You’re fucking naked,” he said again, as if it were really a wonder.

“And you’re not,” you countered.

“Fair point.”

And he slapped lightly at your bum to encourage you off him, so he could push his own trousers down, discard his own underwear.

“Now we’re both naked,” you pointed out.

When your eyes met, there was a frisson of tension that you’d felt before, and you knew where it was going, but you forced the laughter down, couldn’t collapse into hysterics – not again, not right now.

“Is this weird?” he asked, thinking again. Always fucking thinking.

“Only if you make it weird! Do you want it to be weird?”

“No.”

“Because it’s going to be if you keep saying it is.”

You sat back in his lap, arms draping over his shoulders, as he rubbed at his face again.

“It’s just...”

He swore quietly as he nuzzled his nose into your neck, dragged it down your jaw and across your cheek until his lips found yours again.

You could feel him beneath you, stirred, re-awakened, and it sent a spasm through your walls. You’d held him in your hand but what you wouldn’t have given to squeeze him in your slick cunt.

“Chan,” you breathed out. “I want to fuck you.”

He kissed you in reply, moaning for half a second before he stopped.

“Wait- no. I want to go down on you.”

“Can’t we just fuck first?”

You rested your forehead against his, rolled your hips over him to make the point for you.

“I just want to fuck you,” you whispered. “Please.”

He shook his head slowly, carefully, still pressing on yours.

“Later. I want to go down on you.”

And you couldn’t deny that hearing those words, not once, not twice, but three times now, made you want it, too. Made you think about his lips and his tongue and fingers and the piercing, blinding reality of this. That it was happening. That none of this was a dream.

“I owe you one,” he continued and you paused.

“Owe me what?”

“An orgasm. I had one. You haven’t.”

“Are we counting?”

He snorted and denied it.

“No, I just think- I just want it to be even.”

You smacked a kiss against his cheek.

“Well, if we’re keeping score, we’re going to need some kind of chart.”

He couldn't stifle his laugh and you joined him, letting a little of the tension go, aware that this could easily careen out of control, abs still hurting from the fit you both had earlier that evening.

“I don’t want a chart, I just...”

He looked at you and you looked back. The merriment fell away, discarded in an instant. Because this wasn't actually funny. Not really. It was hot. It was thrilling. It was frightening. You could see him thinking in those dark eyes, trying to find the right words; you wanted to tell him that he didn’t need to try so hard. Not for you.

“I want this to be good for you.”

You resisted the urge to scoff, because you knew he meant it, and because this meant something to you. Something. Everything.

“It is good for me,” you told him, lips close enough to touch his. You closed the gap and kissed him, firmly. “I want you so fucking badly.”

He tightened his arms around you, crushing your body to his as he latched his mouth to yours. He still tasted like honey butter chips and you knew you’d never be able to eat them without thinking of him, thinking of this. You were definitely crossing a line. The line. And you could not contain your excitement. It smeared between your lips, slick beneath you as you rolled over Chan’s hot, flushed cock.

“I want-” Chan broke away, breathing heavily, “I want to go down on you,” he said, with greater determination this time. “I want to eat you out.”

Without waiting for a response, he tipped you carefully, moving out from under you, pulling your hips to the edge of the sofa and pushing your thighs apart.

“Oh shit,” he breathed, just looking at you.

His hands squeezed at your inner thighs as his jaw clenched. You had seen this kind of focus in him before: powerful and performing and dripping with sweat, determined to leave everything he had out there on the stage, to die before he gave up. A shiver of anticipation rippled across your skin and no sooner had it settled than Chan shifted closer, dropping a surprisingly chaste kiss to your thigh. Another followed it, then one more on the other side. He kissed you all over, some barely there, some that you knew would leave a mark.

“You know you’re literally dripping?” he asked and there wasn’t so much as a hint of his former nerves, his bashfulness, but there remained a quiet awe, a slight disbelief at what was about to happen.

There was also his cheeky, little smirk, and eyes black as pitch, wide like an open mouth. Hungry.

“I’m very fucking aware,” you retorted, the admonition undermined by your breathlessness. “Get on with it.”

He rolled his eyes at you, playfully, like he had done a thousand times before. Then he did something he had never done before. With one hand gripping each thigh, he put his mouth to your lips and licked a broad stripe up to your clit. You quivered, whimpered, swore when he did it again, when he gathered all your arousal on his tongue and swirled it over your swollen bud.

It made you forget every fantasy you’d ever had. You couldn’t remember if you thought he’d be like this or not. Couldn’t remember if you’d imagined correctly the soft, sweeping pad of his tongue flat against you or the hard flick of its tip. Couldn’t recall for even a second if you’d thought to imagine the way his hands would squeeze and pull at you. Had you guessed that he would moan like that? Had you dreamt the feel of his hair between your fingers?

Your hips were moving on their own, uncontrolled by you. Uncontrollable. You couldn’t stop them rutting against his mouth, couldn’t stop the noise resounding from yours.

“Chan, fuck,” you gasped as he sealed his lips tight around your clit and slipped two fingers inside you. “Like that, oh shit, like that. Please... Please...”

He moaned in response, continuing precisely as he was, like that. Just like that. His tongue flicking at your clit like a switch that only turned on. His fingers curling, pressing hard inside you, pushing and pulling in one direction only. He was firm and precise and confident.

You remembered the way he had, minutes ago (was it really just minutes?), taken your fingers in his mouth, sticky with his own cum, after he had finished. You shivered with the heat of it. The thought of the taste of him mixing with the taste of you sent fresh arousal flooding into Chan’s hand; he was quick to catch it, his lips popping as his tongue slipped down to swipe at his sticky fingers pushing the juices from your pussy. The slick sound of it all made you blush, the noise of his enjoyment deepening the heat in your cheeks and your core.

He let his fingers work for a second, his breath washing over your flushed cunt like a hot wind.

“Fuck,” he panted, leaning back on his knees and tipping his head towards the ceiling.

You opened your eyes when you felt his other hand leave your thigh, watched him squeeze at the base of his cock – so dark, so hard, so wet with precum.

“You ok?” you gasped, still rolling your hips against his hand.

He nodded, still looking skyward.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he replied.

His head fell forward and his eyes caught yours, the look in them making you suddenly shy, a giggle slipping out before you could stifle it. Though you needn’t have worried it would start the hysterics again because it was stopped short, cut off by the gasp elicited by Chan’s tongue, licking up your lips, circling your clit, teasingly light and then harder with every rotation.

You gripped the sofa cushions tight, knuckles white, as the slow ticking of the pleasure bomb inside you grew faster, accelerating towards explosion with great intention. You knew it all too well: the tightening, the quivering, the deep, heavy drag that, in a split-second, sprang high, ricocheting from head to toe, gushing forward in a scream of delight.

You flopped back into the cushions, sticky with sweat, chest heaving, head lightly spinning. Chan left a playful trail of kisses up your torso, onto your chest and your neck and then your mouth. He grinned at you, dopey and sparkling.

“One all.”

#skz x reader #skz smut #bangchan smut #chan x reader #chan smut #bangchan x reader

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britany1997 · 7 months

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Fate Yields For No One

Chapter Four

Were you wondering what the boys were doing while reader and Maria were bonding at the video store those two weeks? Wonder no more! Here’s what they were up to lol

I strongly recommend going back to at least read chapter 3 before reading this one, as some of the scenes will be the same, but from Paul’s perspective:)

Poly Lost Boys x Max’s Daughter Reader

FYFNO Masterlist

California, 1986

Paul’s eyes widened as he realized who you were to him. You wished you could have stopped the word that fell from his lips.

“Mine.”

Paul stared at you, his eyes raking up and down, taking you in. God you were beautiful, the others would love you. As his shock wore off, Paul felt a giddy feeling bubbling in his chest.

He had a million questions to ask you. Your favorite food, your favorite color, your favorite band. Paul had to know anything and everything. (Even if you liked Tiffany or something, he could get over it…eventually.)

As your lips parted, Paul prepared himself to be enchanted by whatever honeyed words you’d speak to him. He reached forward to caress your cheek.

Instead of leaning into the touch as he’d expected you to, you recoiled. His brow furrowed.

“Oh my god I totally forgot I have to go stock things in the back, so nice to meet you, bye!” He heard you blurt out before you moved away from him.

There were few times in Paul’s life when he was actually rendered speechless. This was one of them.

Paul’s brow furrowed, “what?” He whispered as he moved to stand in front of the desk’s swinging door you’d been headed for. Surely he’d misunderstood (wouldn’t be the first time), you had to at least talk this out.

He watched your face twist into a glare, “you’re in my way…” you bit out at him.

Paul’s confusion turned to frustration. “What?!” He repeated, “but we’re…I mean we-” he stumbled over his words, desperate and utterly flabbergasted.

“I know what we are,” you told him, “and I don’t care. So can you please move aside so I can do my job?”

Paul’s jaw dropped.

You…didn’t want him? Didn’t want a mate? Someone who’d love you unconditionally for eternity? Who’d do anything for you? God what was wrong with you?

He stumbled a bit as you pushed past him. “Hey!” He called after you, his ego more bruised than it’d ever been.

“This isn’t over you know,” he promised, resolved to win your heart, even if he had to recruit some…reinforcements.

You scoffed, oblivious to Paul’s plotting. “Seems like it is,” you replied before slipping into the back of the video store.

“What the fuck just happened,” Paul murmured to himself as he rubbed his forehead.

Maria whistled “tough break Paulie.” She bumped him with her hip before she went back to returning DVDs.

Paul scoffed. She didn’t know the half of it. “I gotta go Maria,” he muttered, stalking off with his tail between his legs.

She snickered softly as she watched him go.

Paul shook his head, he was gonna be in for one long conversation when he got back to the cave.

Paul slunk across the boardwalk, hands in his pockets, as he made his way back to his bike.

His head nodded along to the beat of the music playing over the speakers. Paul started to tap out a four count on his thigh as he walked and hummed.

“Are you going to that bonfire Friday?” “I dunno, is Jason gonna be there?” “Ugh, probably” Paul huffed a laugh as he eavesdropped on the vapid boardwalk talk.

A bonfire on Friday did sound fun though. Should he and the guys throw a party? Who would they even invite? Maria? Maria, who worked at the video store with his new mate. He sighed. What a mess.

As he walked, his mind wandered to her pretty face. He wished she would have let him touch her. She looked so soft. He just wanted to hold her. He could be gentle!

He huffed.

Didn’t she realize he was hers? Didn’t she know he’d do anything for her? He’d be anything she needed? He’d probably even cut his hair for her if she asked. As long as she let him hold a memorial service after.

She was pretty, and soft (probably), witty and fiery, and she was right there at the video shop and she didn’t even want him. How fucked was that.

Paul frowned as he finally reached his bike, looking back over his shoulder in the shop’s direction. It’d been a while since he’d felt that hollow longing feeling of being alone.

But he wasn’t alone, not anymore. And whatever had happened back there, he and his boys were gonna fix it, he knew they would.

Paul revved his engine with renewed determination. ‘Just wait pretty girl,’ he thought, ‘cause we’re comin back for ya’

When Paul arrived at the cave, each of the boys were too immersed in their own activities to notice.

On the couch, Dwayne was two-hundred and twelve pages into his thirty-first reread of Dostoevsky’s The Brothers Karamazov and from the way Dwayne was hunched over the book, quite literally on the edge of his seat with his brow furrowed, Paul could tell it was just starting to get good.

Though Paul could barely think over the harsh whirring sound of Marko’s sewing machine. He’d been occupied with making patch-work vests and skirts lately to expand his wardrobe. And while Paul appreciated having some extra pieces around he could borrow, after weeks of hyper fixated, non-stop sewing, the sound was worse than nails on a chalkboard.

David’s constant foot tapping didn’t help either. He was perched in his wheelchair throne, seemingly reviewing some ancient documents. By the way he was squinting and underlying, it seemed to be pretty important stuff.

But none of this was as important as what Paul had to tell them. He cleared his throat pointedly.

The whirring of the sewing machine slowed before coming to a stop, Dwayne looked up from his book expectantly, and a little annoyed, David continued his work, ignoring Paul entirely. “I’m calling a meeting,” Paul stated confidently.

“You don’t have the authority to call a meeting,” David said without looking up from his papers, “only Dwayne and I do.”

Paul wondered if he could explode David with his mind if he tried hard enough. How would he know if he never tried?

“Well it’s an emergency,” Paul gritted.

David met Paul’s frustration with a mocking pout. “Dealer’s out of the good stuff again Paulie? Tragic.” He turned back to his papers.

Dwayne seemed to sense Paul’s desperation, “what’s wrong Paul?” he asked.

“I have another mate,” he said hesitantly, “which means that you guys probably do to.”

David stilled at the same time Marko gasped, the curly haired vampires lips curling up into a bright smile.

“What are they like? Are they nice? Are they funny? Are they hot?” The shorter vamp bombarded Paul with questions, making him cringe.

Dwayne frowned, “Paul…” he began gently, “why aren’t they here with you?”

A broken look crossed Paul’s face, “she…doesn’t want me.”

Marko’s excitement was extinguished as he came to Paul’s side, lacing their fingers together. Dwayne softened, quietly reflecting on Paul’s words. David frowned.

“What do you mean she doesn’t want you?” he narrowed his eyes.

“Exactly what I said dude,” Paul strained, “she said she didn’t care!”

David leaned back, unconvinced. “Tell us exactly what happened, start to finish.”

Paul nodded and painfully recounted every moment from the excitement of meeting you, to the pain of watching you leave as he picked up his jaw from the floor.

David stroked his chin, “are you sure she’s a vampire? Human mates are rare, but they’re not unheard of,” he mused.

Paul scoffed, “duh she’s a vampire! She said, ‘I know what we are, and I don’t care.’ How would she know we were mates if she wasn’t a vampire?” He threw his hands up in frustration.

“Did she say, ‘I know what we are,’ or did she say, ‘I know what you are,’” Dwayne chimed in.

Paul scratched his head, what did she say? He’d been talking about what they were, but had she? He couldn’t quite remember. “She could have been saying ‘I know what you are,’” he decided.

David’s hands clapped together, “so she’s human, but she knows we’re vampires, or at least that you are Paul. Unsurprising, you and Marko have the combined subtlety of an airhorn at the opera,” Paul rolled his eyes. “That’s an easy enough fix,” David reasoned.

“Makes more sense too,” Marko added. “If she ran off, it was probably because she was scared. If I was a human I wouldn’t wanna fuck around with us to get bit either.”

“Why don’t we give her some time,” Dwayne suggested, “prove we’re not going to rush into the video store and drag her out to hurt her or anything. We could give her some space to calm down from her confrontation with Paul, and then we can all go meet her together.”

The boys nodded slowly, considering Dwayne’s plan.

“And,” Dwayne added, “if she’s human, we all need to be on our absolutely best behavior,” he shot a pointed glance at David.

David rolled his eyes, “I’d teach her to be on her best behavior,” he mumbled.

Dwayne sighed. “Let’s just give it two weeks, then we’ll go check in on her,” he paused his voice taking on a gentle tone once more, “I think we could all take some time to cool off.”

Paul tensed at that last part, but he knew Dwayne was right. You were a human and you didn’t understand. You couldn’t! They’d have to show you, go slow, ease you into things, be gentle…you were basically made of glass after all.

He sighed, ‘two weeks,’ he thought, ‘I can do two weeks.’

He could not do two weeks.

Not gracefully at least.

By the end of those two weeks, Paul was practically feral. The second the Sun began to fade into the horizon, Paul was awake and attempting to drag David out of the cave.

As eager to meet you as they were, the boys had grown tired of Paul’s impatience.

Dwayne’s evenings consistently began and ended with “has it been two weeks yet?” The dark haired vampire had come so close to just buying Paul a damn calendar.

Marko had had to stick to Paul like glue to stop him from wandering off to the video store every night. On two unfortunate occasions, Marko AND David had to drag him back to the cave to stop him was barging in to talk to you. Paul was like a dog with a bone when he wanted something, and he wanted you bad.

But Dwayne has assured him last night that today was the day, and Paul was chomping at the bit. “Let’s go,” he groaned, annoyed and excited.

“Paul.” Dwayne chastised.

“Dwayne.” Paul mocked.

“Paul,” it was too early for this shit. “I know you want to see her, we all do,” Dwayne reminded him. “But I think we should wait until closing.”

“What?!” Paul huffed, “I’ve been waiting two weeks! Now we gotta wait longer? No way man!”

“Paul listen,” David groaned, “we can’t have a long, intensive conversation with her about vampire mates with random human customers running around, get it? It’s a private conversation.”

Marko nodded in agreement, “it’s doesn’t seem fair to drop all of that on her while she’s still at work either,” he added, “it’s better if we get ‘er as she’s leaving.”

Paul rolled his eyes, “whatever, I bet Fishy’s on my side.” He grumbled as he stalked off to his room.

“You think we should invest in one of those backpack leashes for him?” Marko asked, only half joking.

David scoffed a laugh, “don’t tempt me.”

When closing time finally came, Paul’s eagerness had wavered. What if they explained everything and you still weren’t on board? Humans had tons of reasons to fear vampires after all, you might want nothing to do with them.

He shuddered at the thought.

He looked to his left to see Marko biting his thumb, equally nervous.

“A human mate,” he muttered under his breath, “what are the odds.”

David rolled his eyes, “if she’s a human I can use my thrall, why are you idiots so worried.”

Paul and Marko shot him dirty looks, but Dwayne placed a hand on his shoulder. As tough as David liked to pretend to be sometimes, Dwayne knew he was nervous too.

“No use waiting any longer,” the dark haired vampire reasoned, “c’mon.”

Dwayne lead the way, pushing the door to the video store open and letting the bell ring softly as the other boys filed in behind him.

The vampires maneuvered to the desk together, passing through aisles they’d walked through a million times over.

The silence was deafening as the boys’ thoughts whirled with what they’d say to you. How they’d explain the significance of vampire mates to a mere human.

Dwayne sighed, they probably had nothing to worry about. Even as a human, there’d still be a pull for you. And he could work with a pull, no matter how small.

He’d show you, he decided. Show you how amazing it could be to be cared for, to be protected. He’d treat you like a princess, he’d worship you if you let him.

God you must be his if he was already thinking this way. The tug at his heart grew stronger and strongernwith every step. If you only knew the effect you had on him, on them all. If you only knew you could have him wrapped around your finger.

When the boys finally reached the front desk, Dwayne’s musings were shattered by the vision of your tongue down Maria’s throat.

He watched as David’s jaw dropped when he was met with the sight of one of your hands tangled in Maria’s curly locks, the other caressing her hip.

He’d felt it, and by the looks of it, David and Marko had too. You were theirs, but you were tangled in Maria’s embrace.

The boys were too stunned to speak.

Until Paul abruptly broke the silence with a resounding “what the fuck.”

FYFNO Taglist❤️:

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inmyicyworld · 1 year

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Mechanic! Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Somehow you ended up in a storage room with one of your dad's mechanics.

Words count: 1.7k

Warnings: mechanic Bucky is a warning, smut, fingering, dirty talk, pet names, I promise that his hands are clean lol.

Author's note: just a quick thought. let me know if y'all want to read more about them😉

masterlist my ao3 ko-fi

“Don’t hide that pretty face, doll. It’s just me.” Bucky’s silky, deep voice filled the little space between you two, and you unconsciously pressed your thighs together, which made the evil grin on his face grow even bigger. “Such a pretty little thing; look at you.”

You couldn’t hold back your moans when a large, calloused hand slipped under your simple white dress, tracing your soft skin. Bucky leaned closer, towering over you and blocking your way out of the small storage room in the back of the repair shop. He was pressing your body between himself and the wall, trying to make you look him in the eyes.

Your face was burning hot, and your whole body was shivering from being so close to one of your dad's mechanics, whom you had a crush on forever.

“I see the way you’re looking at me, Y/N. So innocent with those quick looks, shy smiles, and little dresses. You drive me crazy, baby.” Another hot wave washed over you. Your hands flew up at the feeling of two fingers tracing the line of your panties, but not going further. “Tell me that you want it. I won’t do anything against your will. C’mon, talk to me.”

“I—Bucky—I want, but I don’t know. It's wrong. Someone might hear, and um, I don’t—it’s not my thing. You probably don’t even like me.” His laugh was so genuine that you almost felt embarrassed for saying something wrong.

“Don’t like you? Are you serious, Y/N?” This time Bucky finally took your face with his free hand and held it so tightly that you had no choice but to look into his blue eyes. I've liked you since the day I started working here a year ago. You’re so precious, so pretty, and so cute that I don’t know whether I want to wrap you in a blanket and keep you safe or completely destroy you and see the real you. Because you know what people say... the shy ones are the frekiest.” Bucky’s lips were almost touching yours, and you both breathed heavily, not knowing what to say. The weird, unknown heat in your stomach was almost painful, and the way Bucky's eyes were jumping from your eyes to your lips made your knees feel weak.

“I thought that you hated me.” You breathed out. Bucky smiled again; his lips almost touched you in the most testing way possible.

“I wouldn’t be able to hate such an angel like you. Your father just told us that he'll kill anyone who messes with his daughter.” You laughed and moved your hips, where Bucky’s hand was still under your dress.

“And you clearly didn’t care, huh?”

“I tried to do my best, but I can’t anymore. Let me take care of you, please.” He touched your nose with his, and it felt like the most intimate thing. Here, in the dark and small room, breathing the same air, and almost having his fingers in your underwear, you couldn’t say no.

You slightly nodded, and it was everything that Bucky needed to finally kiss you. He was dominating, devouring your mouth, and biting and liking your lips. You felt lightheaded because no one had ever been this eager to kiss you, taste you, or learn every corner of your body.

But Bucky was greedy.

He kept one hand on the side of your face, holding you the way he needed to, and the other one under your dress finally moved. His fingers swiped on the front part of your panties, which made you instantly twitch.

“No-no, don’t run away. I feel the wet spot, is that for me, baby?” You once again felt flushed and slightly embarrassed and tried to hide your face behind your hair, but Bucky was not having it. He stepped even closer to you, so his firm and hot body was pressing into you and you had no chance to move. (not that you wanted to.) “Tell me.”

“It’s for you. I want you.”

“Fuck, I want to destroy that pretty pussy right now, but you don’t think that our first time will be in a dusty and dirty place, do you?” Bucky lowered his head to your neck and breathed in your sweet scent. “No, sweetheart. ‘M gonna take you on a date, be the gentleman that you deserve, and then take you to my place and fill you with my cock until it’s the only thing you can think of, ‘kay? But now, let me see how well you can take my fingers, baby.”

A mixture of disappointment and excitement shot through your body. You wanted Bucky inside of you so bad, but it was a really bad idea. It would be just messy and quick, and for fuck’s sake, your father, other workers, and god knows how many customers were not so far away from you. Everyone would see what Bucky had done to you, and you would probably just die from the embarrassment.

The feeling of two thick fingers running across your wet folds pulled you out of your head. Your mouth instantly fell open in a loud gasp, and you gripped Bucky’s inappropriately tight black t-shirt in your fists.

He was just teasing you with a smirk on his stupidly pretty face, slowly going up and down, covering his fingers in your slik.

“So wet, goddammit.” When he suddenly brushed over your clit, you loudly whined and caught his wrist with one of your hands. You looked at each other for a few seconds and honestly didn’t know what you wanted him to do—stop the torture or finally fill you up with his thick fingers. “Ask me nicely, doll, and I’ll give you whatever you need.” Using your wetness, Bucky’s thumb started rubbing your clit in circular motions, noticing how you completely lost yourself in pleasure and were supported only by his body against you. “Speak to me, c'mon.”

“B-bucky! I can’t, fuck, please-please, fill me up.” You cried, closing your eyes and breathing heavily.

“Good girl. See, you just needed to ask me.” Your legs were slightly pushed apart by his thigh, and then finally you felt that delicious stretch that made your eyes roll back again and fall into Bucky’s chest. You slightly shieved in his arms, wanting to press together your legs, but it was impossible with his fingers deep inside of you.

Honestly, you could never come like this before; even your own fingers were too thin and couldn’t reach that exact spot. But he did it so easily. With one thrust and slightly curled fingers, Bucky sent you into heaven.

Your a little bit too loud whimper told Bucky everything, and even without seeing his face, you knew that he was smirking again. “I found it, didn't I?” He continued going in and out of you slowly, almost lazily, touching your sweet spot every time. “Fuck, you’re doing something to me, doll. I’m already addicted to your sweet little moans and the way your greedy pussy sucks in my fingers.” Bucky chuckled, with the other hand gently wrapped around your neck, pinning you back against the wall. “Don’t hide your face from me; I want to see you when you cum around me.” He softly kissed your lips and, at the same time, started to move inside of you harder.

It was hot and messy, with more and more slik running out of you because of the dirty words Bucky was mumbling onto your lips. The wet noise that filled the little room was almost too loud, but the only thing on your mind was how much you wanted to cum.

It creeped slowly but heavily. You figured out that Bucky knew exactly what he was doing, but he was a little too good at it. As if he already knew your body better than you and knew every right angle and spot to hit.

You were already close, choking on the air with your muffled moans and tears in your eyes, but when he finally added his thumb to your clit and rubbed it in a perfect rhythm, it hit you hard and quickly.

The white noise in your ears and the heat all over your body made you feel weak and dizzy. You couldn’t concentrate on a single thing or word because Bucky didn’t stop. He was filing you again and again, prolonging your orgasm.

“That’s it, baby. Good girl. Squeezing my fingers so good. ‘M wondering how your sensitive pussy will feel around my cock later. Could you imagine that?” He lowered himself down to your ear. “Being so full of my cock that you can’t even think straight, how she’ll be milking me and taking every drop of my cum. I can’t fucking wait to destroy every single man for you.” Soft lips were leaving small kisses on your cheek while you were coming down from your height.

“Bucky, shit, that was—I’ve never felt like this before.” You whispered when your head became more clear.

Bucky gently pulled his fingers out of you, and before you could even feel embarrassed for the mees that you had left on his hand, he put his fingers into his mouth. His blue eyes closed at the taste of you on his tongue—even better than he imagined—and your face started to burn when you felt another wave of heat at that image.

“Such a sweet pussy, fuck... But as much as I want to tear you into pieces, I need to go back to work, and Nat is probably already looking for you.” He reached to fix our dress and hair before stepping back and looking at you up and down. “You should go first, because I have a little problem.” Bucky’s eyes shot to his crotch area, and only then did you notice how painfully tight his pants were.

“Oh my god, Bucky, I’m sorry, I—” You stepped closer to help him somehow, but he caught your hands in his and sweetly smiled at you.

“Don’t worry, doll. It’s not my first time getting a boner because of you.” Your eyes widened at his confession, and you bit your lower lip in a mixture of shame for being so oblivious and a desire to hop on top of that gorgeous man. “Now go; I’ll find you later, okay?”

“Okay.” With the last sweet kiss, you finally walked out of the small room, trying to act normal so no one would notice that you were a whining and crying mess only a few minutes ago.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #james bucky barnes #bucky fic #bucky x female reader #james buchanan barnes #marvel fanfiction #marvel smut #one shot #bucky smut #bucky barnes smut #x reader #fem reader

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supernovafics · 10 months

Text

𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄

"i'll be there for you" universe masterlist

pairing: bestfriend!roommate!steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 3.2k words

warnings: explicit language, some mentions of alcohol, parent drama (both reader’s and steve’s parents suck)

summary: in which your parents and steve’s come over for dinner

author's note: this has absolutely nothing to do with the harry styles song but the title of it is just very fitting so yeah<33 i’ve been rewatching a lot of gilmore girls this fall season so i feel like that's helped me get the hang of writing awkward/tense dinners with family lol so this needed to be done

general note: everything in this universe/series can be read as standalone oneshots but to understand the full “lore” it would prob be best to read the other stuff too<333

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Fall 1985

When your and Steve’s parents first suggested this “early Thanksgiving dinner,” you thought that it wouldn’t actually happen.

The initial idea sounded pretty funny to you— your parents and Steve’s parents would have a full on dinner at your apartment a week before the actual holiday. Yeah, right.

It sounded like the kind of idea that parents that really cared about spending time with their children would have, and that wasn’t how you’d necessarily describe yours or Steve’s.

A month ago, when they told you about the ski trip the four of them were going on during the entire week of Thanksgiving, you expected to just not see them probably until Christmas— and that felt like a bit of relief to you because spending time with your parents wasn’t your favorite hobby.

But then you remembered how, only during the holidays, your parents always had a need to show, or maybe more so “prove” to themselves, that they actually cared about you. So, of course, they wouldn’t let this stupid holiday go, and instead they thought that it would be best if you all did something early and together.

And sadly, none of the immediate excuses that you and Steve came up with worked because your moms had solutions for everything.

When you told yours that the kitchen in the apartment was too small to cook for this kind of elaborate dinner, she simply told you that they’d buy and bring all of the food and you and Steve wouldn’t have to cook at all. She also not-so-jokingly mentioned that she would’ve never trusted either of you two cooking anyway.

And when Steve told his mom that the current dining table you two had was way too small to fit all six of you, she promptly had one ordered and delivered to your door in just a week. It was an expensive dark wood set that could comfortably fit six people, and you and Steve spent hours struggling to build it the day it showed up at your front door. It took up an obscene amount of space, but it did actually look kind of nice.

Now it was weeks later and the dreaded night was finally here, but you still tried to come up with any way to avoid it from happening.

“And we’re sure that we really can’t get out of doing this tonight?” You asked Steve as you folded the blanket that was lying half-hazardly on the couch. “I could call my mom and say that we’ve somehow fallen tragically ill in the last hour?”

“I’m ninety-five percent sure that they’re all already on their way.”

“Shit.”

“It’ll be fine,” Steve said, and then he considered his words. “Actually, it will probably suck, but overall, we will be fine.”

You let out a sigh and placed the now folded blanket back on the couch and then started cleaning off the coffee table, stacking the random magazines in a neat pile and then adjusting Harold’s cage so that it was nicely in the center. Your and Steve’s shared pet hamster was currently nibbling on the food that you had put in his bowl only moments ago.

An abrupt feeling of worry shot through you as you looked around the apartment. The place was clean— probably the cleanest it had ever been— since you and Steve had spent the day doing everything to avoid either of your parents saying anything bad about the place. However, in the grand scheme of things, you knew that it didn’t matter because they’d still hate the apartment. They would hate how you two decided to furnish and decorate it, and they would passive aggressively make fun of the place for however long this dinner would have to be.

“Let’s try not to think about how bad this night is gonna be and just be glad that we’re not gonna have to suffer alone, like usual,” Steve said, practically reading your mind and the look on your face, as he started setting plates out on the new table.

He was completely right. This was the first time that a collective Thanksgiving was happening among all of you. Usually, it was just you alone with your parents in Chicago visiting family members that you never talked to, and Steve was doing the same exact thing except he was in Indianapolis. You’d always end up calling each other at the end of the night from the hotel or family house you were staying at, and you’d tell each other stories about whatever weird family members you encountered or how boring it all was.

It did make things feel a bit better that, for once, you didn’t have to go through this alone and neither did Steve.

“You’re right,” You said with a nod and then smiled. “We’ll be going through this shitshow together.”

As if on cue, there was a knock at the door and since Steve was closer he went to answer it. You took one brief and final look around the apartment before heading toward the door too, so Steve didn’t have to be by himself in this greeting.

“Hi,” He said when he opened the door and saw all of your parents standing there. There was a bright smile on his face and he effortlessly turned on that “Steve Harrington charm” that people had adored in high school— you hadn’t even gone to the same high school as him, but you still heard so many of the stories.

A chorus of Hi’s and Hello’s were heard as your moms entered the apartment first since they were carrying all of the food and your dads followed in right behind them.

“I still hate that you moved into a place that doesn’t have a front doorman, or, at least, a buzzer system,” Were your dad’s first words to you; deciding against saying the simple “How are you?” that you had expected. “You two should get a better lock on your door.”

You laughed a bit. “We live in Hawkins, not New York, Dad. I don’t think anyone is really itching to rob us anytime soon.”

“Anything can happen,” He responded, looking at you seriously. “I’ll bring you a new one when we get back from Colorado.”

You only nodded at his words instead of saying anything to rebut them; you knew that he overall meant well. “Okay.”

Your attention turned to your mom and she pulled you into a hug that felt way too forced before pulling away and giving you a quick onceover. “Oh… Is that what you’re wearing?”

You thought that your outfit was fine; a V-neck navy blue knit sweater that was a bit cropped and a simple pair of black jeans. But, your mom always managed to find something wrong with everything, so this reaction to your current outfit didn’t necessarily surprise you; it did still annoy you all the same, though.

“Oh, um, no I was just about to change,” You told her and forced a small smile.

She nodded at that. “Okay, that’s good, that’s good. You go change while Christine and I get the table set up.”

You started heading toward your room but looked back at Steve first. He was in a conversation with his parents that looked like they were doing much more of the talking than him. As if sensing your gaze on him, his eyes met yours and he gave you a hopeful look and that was enough to make you feel a little better.

It didn’t take long for you to change. You kept your sweater on but traded your jeans for the long black silk skirt that your mom had always liked on you. You hoped this slightly different outfit would be enough to satisfy her, and if not, you were willing to suffer through her inevitable look of disappointment.

You lingered in your room, tidying up your desk for no particular reason and then deciding to remake your bed. It was clear that you were stalling, avoiding having to face your parents again, and as much as you wanted to continue doing that, you also didn’t want to leave Steve to fend for himself. You were supposed to be suffering together, after all.

You immediately noticed the dining table when you walked out of your bedroom. The food was now nicely set out and there were even brown placemats sitting underneath the plates that Steve had already set out. It was all set up in a way that would’ve felt nice and wholesome if either of your families had ever remotely felt like the ones portrayed in most TV shows or movies. But, they weren’t anywhere close to being like that, so this all just felt weirdly forced.

Of course, you didn’t say that, though.

Instead, you sat down with everyone at the table and desperately hoped that the next few hours of your life would breeze by.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“From the brochure, the pictures of the cabin look really great. We hope it actually looks that way in person,” Steve’s mom, Christine, said.

You took another bite of the mac and cheese on your plate as you continued to listen to your parents talk about their ski trip that was happening next week, which they had been doing for the last twenty minutes and you fully didn’t mind it. Since the conversation wasn’t centered on either you or Steve, things actually didn’t feel tense or nervewracking. If you could just make your parents talk about themselves during the entire dinner, you would probably end the night with a smile on your face.

“Oh, and there are a lot of bedrooms too,” Your mom chimed in before taking another sip from the wine glass in her hand. “Maybe you two could take a trip up there soon and invite your friends to go too.”

“Yeah, that would be nice,” You said with a small nod.

“Enough talking about the trip, though, that’s probably so boring for your kids to hear about,” Your dad said, and you internally sighed because you knew the exact direction the conversation was about to go in. You felt him look at you. “How’s school been going? The semester is almost over.”

“It’s been good,” You answered, keeping your response short and sweet. You decided not to mention that you really couldn’t care less about the majority of your classes because none of what you were doing in any of them felt like it really mattered.

“Okay, and your grades and everything are fine, right?”

You only nodded in response to his question, hoping that your lack of actual words would signal to him that you wanted to bring an end to this topic of conversation. Of course, that was only wishful thinking.

“That’s good,” Your mom said. “You have to make sure your grades stay like how they were in high school, or even better, for when you transfer to the University of Chicago. We don’t want to have any reason for them not to accept you again.”

You suddenly felt like you were right back in middle school and high school, where your conversations with your parents solely revolved around school; what your grades were, if you were doing your homework and completing assignments on time, and studying for tests. It always annoyed you that the only times they would bother to pay attention to you was when it came to that stuff. Other than that, you were always seemingly an afterthought, never a bigger priority than their jobs.

In a way, this entire conversation should’ve been expected; it was always inevitable. Pretty much anytime you talked to your parents in recent months, the discussion always seemed to circle its way back to that school and you going there in two years instead of right now, like they had wanted you to.

“I’m still so surprised that you decided to not go to the University of Chicago now,” Christine said and you turned your attention to her. It was starting to feel a bit painful to you that the subject still hadn’t changed yet. “When Steve told me that you were going to go to the community college close by, I couldn’t believe it, honestly.”

You noticed your parents share a look upon hearing her words. The mix of disappointment and annoyance toward you that was shared between them in that moment felt palpable.

“I didn’t think it was time to leave Indiana just yet. I’ll be going soon, though,” You said, keeping your voice light and plastering on a fake smile, even though all you wanted to do in that moment was leave the table and hideout in your bathroom for the rest of the night.

You saw your dad smile a little and then you also noticed the look of relief wash over your mom’s face. For some stupid reason, you still felt the need to make them feel pleased with you. And somehow that made you feel even more upset with yourself than anything they had said to you so far tonight.

The only thing that managed to make things feel remotely tolerable right then was Steve sitting across from you, giving you a look that said, “Everything will be okay.” For the time being, you chose to believe him and you simply took another bite of your food.

You were about to say something about how good the turkey was so your moms would start talking about the restaurant they got all of the food from and why they chose it— you were sure that there was some story behind it all— and that would finally bring an end to the college conversation. But, before a word could leave your mouth, Steve’s dad began speaking.

“Well, at least, you’re in college. We can’t say the same for Steve here.” He then looked at his son. “Do you really want to work at a video store for the rest of your life?”

Christine let out a sigh. “Jeff.”

“What?” He shrugged as if his previous question wasn’t completely condescending. “I’m just asking a question.”

“I’m actually starting at the community college next semester,” Steve told his parents and you tried to hide your immediate confusion. “I found out I got in a few days ago.”

“Well, that’s great,” Christine said happily, and Jeff smiled approvingly as well.

You had no idea Steve had gotten in or even applied, and you wondered if he was lying right then to just get his parents off his back, but you couldn’t tell. Something about the way he said it honestly felt pretty real. The only part that didn’t feel real was that you were finding out during this dumb dinner instead of at any other time.

“So, I was wondering,” Your mom began and you braced yourself for the impact of whatever she was going to say. “Why did you two decide to get a hamster? I feel like it makes things smell a bit funny in here…”

A part of you was glad that the conversation finally shifted away from college. But you didn’t think that the passive aggressive comments toward the apartment would begin with Harold.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“Well, this night was fucking brutal.”

You let out a sigh. “You took the words right out of my mouth.”

Steve was doing the dishes as you put what was left of the food into tupperwares and then put them in the fridge. Surprisingly, it was a lot of stuff leftover; your moms definitely went overboard with the amount they had ordered. You and Steve already made plans to invite Robin and Eddie over tomorrow to have some of these leftovers.

“I’m actually glad that the dessert tasted bad since it made them want to leave early.”

“It was honestly a bit bittersweet because I was kind of excited for that pie,” You said as you placed the final tupperware of food into the fridge and then went over to Steve. “Oh, and also,” You punched his arm and ignored his immediate “ouch.” “Why the hell didn’t you tell me that the stars have finally managed to align and we’ll finally be going to the same school for the first time ever?”

He smiled a little at your dramatics. “I didn’t wanna make a big deal out of it just in case I somehow didn’t end up getting in. I swear I was gonna tell you tomorrow.”

“So, you did all of that annoying application stuff by yourself?”

“Robin helped me with it.”

“I would’ve been happy to help you,” You told him, and maybe you were being a bit overdramatic, but you actually felt slightly offended that he hadn’t wanted to come to you about this.

The possibility of you two going to the same middle or high school was a far out idea that never happened because you lived in different towns. But, it was still something that was adamantly and wistfully talked about by you and him; how much more fun both of your school lives could be if they intersected in that way like the other parts of your lives did.

Of course, going to the same college would’ve been the most obvious way for it to finally happen, but Steve never seemed that interested in going to college, and up until the last possible second you were being pushed toward Chicago by your parents.

But now things were finally different.

“I know that you would’ve, but I didn’t want to talk about it to anyone, honestly. Robin saw me working on the application one day and decided to help,” He explained and you only gave him a small nod in response. “I didn’t even think I’d tell my parents about it, but when I heard my dad’s dumb comment about Family Video I felt like I had to say it so he wouldn’t keep looking at me like a disappointment.” He sighed. “And it’s kinda fucked up… I really don’t wanna care what my parents think about me and what I’m doing with my life, but I think there will always be a part of me that does.”

You thought back to your dad’s approving smile and your mom’s relieved look when you reassured them that you still planned to go to the University of Chicago; how much you still wanted to make them feel at least a little proud of you even though you knew you shouldn’t.

“Me too,” You said softly.

“I’m glad we probably won’t have to see them again until Christmas.”

You sighed. “Apparently, my dad is gonna bring us a new lock for the door when they get back from their trip.”

“Oh,” Steve said and then smiled at you when it looked like he thought of something. “Okay, what are the odds that he’ll just send someone to put the new lock on the door instead of coming himself?”

You thought about it for a second. “Honestly, I’d say there’s a pretty good chance that would happen. He’ll probably be too busy with work after the trip to actually come and do it himself.”

“Okay, let’s hope for that,” He said as he finished washing the last plate and placed it on the drying rack. “So, since the dessert was a bust tonight, do you wanna go to the diner? I’m sure Mary would never fuck up her apple pie. And then when we get back, we can finish that bottle of wine that our moms left.”

You smiled at his suggestion. “You have a brilliant mind, Harrington.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know ur thoughts<333

(requests are open for stuff you wanna see in the universe/series!🫶🏾)

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x fem!reader #stranger things fluff #steve harrington #steve harrington series #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x reader smut #stranger things imagine #stranger things series

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dearsnow · 3 months

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I’D HAVE TO THINK ABOUT IT

- you still think about the man that broke your heart years later. (bradley “rooster” bradshaw x gn!/fem!reader, pure angst (sorry))

word count: 719

a/n - writing angst scratches a part of my writing urges that nothing else can fill lol. i prefer reading fluff, but writing is another story- funny, huh? anyways, enjoy. here’s to writing that doesn’t have a happy ending <3

When your boyfriend was deployed the first time, you thought it wouldn’t be too bad. It was just a few months, right?

You wrote letters, and you sent emails, and you called just enough to whet your taste for his voice before he was pulled away. You’d do anything for Bradley Bradshaw, and he knew it.

“I just don’t think it’s going to work out.” His words fell from his mouth and shattered on your floor like broken glass. You felt a lump form in your throat, choking you. He was saying the one thing you never wanted to hear. “You know how my job is. I’d never be able to treat you like you deserve. I’m sorry, but we have to break it off.”

A stinging set off behind your eyes, clouding your vision and pulling your eyes down to the floor. You could wait. You would take the crumbs of him that he offered like a starved animal, no matter how long you went without food. Didn’t he understand that you’d have waited lifetimes? That you loved him more than you’ve loved anything? You needed him like air, but he needed you like solid ground; if he was in the water, he could survive without you.

“But I love you,” you protested, “I’d wait.”

He shook his head. He loved you too, and that’s why he left you to fend for yourself.

It took three years for you to find someone else, two years for you to marry them, and one more before you had your first child. She was four when you had your second, a boy. He’s three now.

Twelve years. It took twelve years for Bradley to finally leave your mind. You’re reorganizing your old things, discarding everything from your life before your family. That’s when you happen upon a letter you wrote so long ago it seems like a distant dream, yet so fresh in your mind that you can recite a few lines by memory.

Dear Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw,

I will always love you.

You’re my Achilles heel. I want you so desperately it burns, it burns my throat and my eyes and my heart. I don’t think I can get over that kind of burn.

I’ll move on, though, as I’m sure that’s what you wanted for me. I’ll marry someone. I’ll have children. I’ll have that white picket fence suburban dream, the one where your new neighbors bake you brownies and the sun is just a little too hot all the time. I’ll have a stable life, a nice one. I’ll have a pool and a two-story house. I might even get a dog or three for my kids to play with– a golden retriever trio that came from the same stray litter.

But if you came to me, walked up to my home, and smiled at me through the window, it would be like nothing ever changed. I’m terrified even now that I’ll say your name when my boyfriend wraps his arms around my waist. If you asked me to leave with you, to turn in my divorce papers and lose custody of the children I’ll eventually have, I’d have to think about it. I would have to think about leaving everything I’ve built to elope with you.

What scares me is that I would probably end up doing it.

So, I hope I never see you again, because I don’t want to have to break the hearts of those who love me. And I also hope that if you knock on my door, I’ll have the strength to close it.

Yours truly,

The One Who Would Have Waited.

You set the envelope down on your desk with watery eyes. The worst part about finding the slightly crumpled letter is that it still rings true after all this time, even after you told yourself it held no weight. You’ll forget about the letter eventually, you tell yourself. You’ll forget about the person written in black ink, too.

You have a good life, no one can doubt that. You tell yourself that nothing could be better. But when you think about the love of your life, you don’t think about the person you married.

You think about the man with a mustache who broke your heart so many years ago.

#solar eclipse.#angst #bradley bradshaw x reader #top gun maverick #bradley rooster bradshaw #top gun x reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw imagine #rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #top gun maverick x reader #top gun #top gun fandom #top gun imagine #top gun fanfiction #top gun movie #top gun fic

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differentclasss · 10 months

Text

Domesticity ♡ Jonathan Crane (smut)

pairing: Jonathan Crane (Nolan Verse) x Reader

summary: Jonathan really wants to get you pregnant, it takes a little convincing for you to take it seriously.

warnings: somewhat possessive behavior from Crane, talk of pregnancy, smut, female reader, just the usual stuff! also, it's not really a warning, but its a pretty simple fluff-smut fic. It's kind of out of character lol.

a/n: sorry for not posting very often, i've been doing really important stuff and definitely not just rewatching the Sopranos again... anyways, I'll probably start posting again since I'm out of a creative funk and have like a million drafts in my docs right now. thanks!

word count: 1.7k

It was soft and gray outside by the time Jonathan got home. The sky was full of clouds and the house was quiet. He put down his briefcase and untied his shoes as he walked into the quiet apartment he shared with you. He could feel this distinct sense of neediness for you he’s become accustomed to when he has a long day. Something was comforting about you, something he couldn’t place his finger on, but you made him happy. It was what most would consider love, but for him, it was all too new for him to name it.

You were laying on your stomach with your elbows perched on the mattress of your soft bed as you read some book Jonathan had recommended to you. You wouldn’t have noticed Jonathan had returned if he hadn’t dragged your attention from the book laid out in front of you by clearing his throat as he walked into your shared bedroom. You looked up at him with that same doting smile you had whenever you saw him and made your way to him. He glanced over at you as he began to take off his tie but your hands quickly replaced his.

“Wait,” You said as you stood in front of him. “Let me do it.”

“Whatever you want.” He replied as if he was doing you a favor.

Truth be told, he liked your desire to do small things for him. There were little things you did that meant you cared about him, despite how cold and cranky he could be occasionally. He would find his glasses cleaned after going to shower or you would get his favorite suits dry cleaned without him even saying anything about it. All those little acts of domesticity he admired in private. He had his acts of fondness as well, he’d stop and pick you up a small treat on his way home and sometimes if he was feeling especially romantic, he would place a vase and flowers out on the kitchen table for you. There were plenty of silent acts of a proper home life that you both devoted time to.

“How was work?” You asked him once you finished taking off his tie and placed it on the dresser.

“It was fine.” He said before giving you a quick kiss on the forehead.

He hated talking about work with you, it was better to keep it vague and short. Anytime you prodded for more detailed responses he would brush it out with a simple, ‘patient confidentiality.’

“I missed you today.” You softly murmured as you wrapped your arms around him and rested your head on his chest.

“Likewise.” He said while slowly caressing your hair.

It was easy for him to just think about you during these moments, with your warmth enrapturing him in a spiderweb of affection. He could put off his alter ego for a night of your intimacy and during these nights, he often thought about how easy it would be just to enjoy you and enjoy the life you could have together. Seeing you so sweet on him made him want to keep you like this forever, something more binding than just living together.

“Thought about you all day.” He softly murmured against your neck as he pulled you over top of him on the bed.

“Yeah?” You asked with a teasing smile. “What in particular?” You asked.

“Thought about you just like this,” He replied, pulling you closer till there was practically no room between you, chest to chest. “You look so pretty.” He added.

You loved his praise, even the simplest of words made you get butterflies like how you did when you first met him. Knowing he was known as cold and bitter to most made it all the more special to hear him speak so fondly of you. You kissed the side of his neck and let out a content sigh as his hands slipped underneath your shirt and fondled your breasts for a moment. You let your neck fall back as he began to kiss the side of your neck and worked his way to your jaw. His teeth sunk suddenly into your jaw which caused you to hiss.

“I was thinking about another thing too,” He added as he pulled away for a moment. “I kept on thinking about how much prettier you’d look with my come in you.” He mumbled the last bit and it made you blush deeply.

“Jon,” You said with a small smile, your hand grazing his cheek. “We’re not married yet, you already wanna knock me up?”

“Don’t be so old-fashioned,” He said as he quickly maneuvered your body to be under his. “It’s just an idea.” He replied as he buried his face into your neck and began to kiss it with a certain amount of passion.

“I’m not against it.” You said quietly as your hands ran down his shoulders. “Just… Are you serious? That’s a big step for us.”

“Of course, I’m being serious.” He says as he pulls from your neck and gazes at you. “I gave myself a hard-on today just thinking about what’d it be like to see you pregnant with my kid.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the declaration. You always had figured he wasn’t one to even think about settling down, that just didn’t seem like him at all, but here he was, talking about having a child with you.

“Never thought I would hear you say something so affectionate.” You giggled and kissed his cheek.

“Can’t help myself.” He murmured as he kissed your lips and then pulled back. “Maybe I just want to marry you and get you pregnant. Have you here taking care of our kid and being a good little mother.”

He kissed you harder than before, clearly getting worked up over the thought of you as a mother. You didn’t mind the thought he had. It made you feel desired beyond just sexual attraction, to want to procreate meant something deeper than moving in with each other or having a pair of his shoes next to yours in the closet.

“Do you want me to dress up in a pin-up dress and wear pearls too?” You asked with a giggle, to which he bit your lip for.

“Don’t tease.” He reprimanded.

Based on his growing erection, he probably did want you to wear the dress and kitten heels, maybe not all the time but just to take it off. Jonathan got needier as he felt you through your clothes. He took your shorts off and discarded them carelessly before rubbing you through your panties. You grunted and pushed your hips to his hands.

“You do want it,” Jonathan mused as he felt your soaked panties. “You just wanna be a housewife with your cunt full of my come, hm?”

“Jonathan,” You mewled. “Just wanna make you happy.”

“You are making me happy,” He said with a small grin as he slipped his hands underneath the seam of your panties and pumped two fingers into you quickly. “It would make me a lot happier to see you nice and pregnant though.”

Jonathan loved how he barely had to touch you to get you into a whimpering mess underneath him. Your face always flushed into a pretty shade of red and your hands held onto him tightly whenever he gave you his fingers. Little moans and whines escaped your lips, no matter how hard you tried to conceal them. His hands left you for a moment as he took off his belt and then took off your shirt, making another short moan of neediness escape your lips.

“Can I come in you tonight?” He asked as he touched the bottom of your stomach, already imagining a phantom bump. “You’d make a great mother.”

Frantically you nodded, hands falling to his chest and pulling off his shirt. He worked on his pants and tossed them to the floor. You kissed him swiftly once he was as bare as you were and felt him hold your leg by the back of your knee as he teased you with more small pumps of his fingers.

“Tell me you want it as bad as I do, sweetheart.” He told you in a hushed voice.

“I want it,” You replied in a whisper. “Wanna have your baby.”

He didn’t need much confirmation after that. Hastily he moved your legs over his shoulders, knowing this position would let him get deep inside of you. Jonathan lined himself up and slowly filled your cunt up with his cock. You quickly inhaled and grabbed his shoulders for some support as he rocked into you. You moaned and felt tears in your eyes from the pressure in your cunt. He sneaked his hand to clit and rubbed it quickly, making everything seem a tad overwhelming. With your orgasm building sharply, you closed your eyes tightly as your cunt clenched around him, making both of you shiver. His hand kept circling your clit making feel more than overwhelmed at this point.

“That’s it,” He grunted from over the top of you. “Gonna make you a mommy, make you full.”

You inhaled in response, his hips coming down into you faster and faster. A few curses tumbled from your lips as another orgasm approached. Sweat began to form at your temple and once the separate orgasm came and went, your legs trembled.

“I’m so close,” He warned you in a hoarse voice. “Fuck, just gonna fill you up with my come and make you mine completely.”

You were too overstimulated to really hear what he was saying, everything blurred together at that moment. He gave you a few more unforgiving thrusts and then came inside of you, holding himself still for a moment to keep it all there. You caught your breaths together and kissed you on the forehead.

“Thank you.” He murmured as he lifted off of you and laid down beside you.

You smiled and then gave him a small kiss on the lips and went to the bathroom, feeling a bit shaky but strangely content with this new declaration. After you cleaned up you went and laid back down with him. He seemed miles away again, eyes fixed on the drawn blinds of your window. You couldn’t tell if he was feeling guilt or maybe a tinge of worry after all of that but you just nestled your head into his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

#jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane smut #jonathan crane #jonathan crane x you #jonathan crane fanfic

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itwasntimethatdidit40 · 1 month

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Pairing/AU: DBF!Joel Miller x F!reader, no outbreak

Rating: +18, Minors please don’t interact, NSFW

Summary: Joel lets you convince him that you can help him get back in shape. (Do you remember the episode of Friends where Monica convinces Chandler to work out with her? The idea came to me while watching that episode. What came out of it, however, has almost nothing to do with that episode. LOL but I used the name Geller as a tribute)

Word count: 4254

Warnings: smut, age gap (reader is 22, Joel's age is not explicitly mentioned but I would say around 46/48), pov switch (I hope I succeeded because it's my first time), reader has breasts and vagina, she is wearing shorts and a sports bra and has a ponytail, other than that there is no other particularly accurate description of her, brat taming dynamic, power dynamic, unprotected p in v (reader is on the pill, please take precautions IRL), spit, cum eating, oral (m receiving), face fucking, fingering (f receiving), sex in a public place (a park LOL), risk of getting caught, swearing (A LOT), Joel is mean, reader is mean too and also a total brat, rough sex, praise kink, a little bit of orgasm control, a lot of bickering, Joel wears shorts (!!!), Joel comes inside her, sort of (?) seed kink, pet names (mostly good girl, honey, bratty little thing, cheeky little thing, babe), use of the term daddy once, readers calls Joel and old man and other nicknames multiple times, Joel slaps reader once during sex, I don’t even know what to say, you all, it’s pure filth 💀 Title is from a Placebo song.

As always, English is not my first language so please be kind, no proofreading, no editing, no beta, it’s all my fault and I’m very sorry, I hope this makes sense, otherwise pretend it never existed, thanks.

And thank you so much for reading my silly little stories, I'm still in disbelief that anyone is interested in what I write 😭

Joel hadn’t considered everything when you suggested it. He’d looked at your big, shining eyes as you told him he didn’t need to pay a lot of money to join a gym, you’d take care of getting him in shape.

Running had always been a part of you and you did it every morning so there wouldn’t be any problems.

Luckily, you had just returned from college for the summer and would be spending three months at your parents’ house before classes started again.

At first it seemed like a sentence, you would have preferred to go to Europe with your roommate but you had decided to save the money you had earned working as a waitress and you didn't feel like asking your parents for them.

As soon as you got out of your dad’s car, you saw Joel waving at you from across the street and you remembered when you had a crush on him. You thought you’d put it behind you and that it was just a passing teenage nonsense.

That day you realized that it wasn't like that, it hadn't gone away at all.

Two weeks had passed and your father had invited his best friend Joel for dinner.

Sure, why not.

You were so nervous that it took you an hour and a half to choose what to wear, your mother had come to your room twice to see what the hell you were doing and why you hadn't gone down to the kitchen to help her yet.

Why the hell did you get yourself into that situation?

After all, blowing your savings in Europe was probably not such a bad idea, after all you are 22 and had the right to enjoy your holidays. Stupid conscience, by now you could have been in Spain or Italy or even France.

You ended up wearing denim shorts and a crop top. Pretty much what you usually wore, but you thought you saw Joel peeking at your thighs few days before and you obviously liked the idea.

When your mother saw you she didn't make any comment, she had never made a fuss about how you dressed. And she certainly didn't imagine that those skimpy denim shorts were there to get her husband's best friend to look at you, it didn't even cross her mind. You were above suspicion.

When you saw him enter the dining room followed by your father you almost lost your breath.

Why was he so damn attractive? You should have convinced yourself to forget about him but you hadn't. You had tried to do it that night too, until he mentioned that he wanted to join the gym and you almost interrupted him and said "you could come running with me."

You felt like you were watching yourself from the outside and if you could you would have slapped yourself. Why had such a bullshit come out of your mouth.

Fuck.

You actually knew very well why.

Joel looked at you with a surprised expression. “Are you sure?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Of course! Excuse me, you live across the street, is it possible that you’ve never seen me running? I’ve been doing this for years.”

“I never noticed, kid, honestly noticing your habits is not a priority in my life” Joel had replied nonchalantly.

Your father had laughed, covering his embarrassment.

Of course he knew. He had seen you scampering around the neighborhood in those skimpy shorts and that way-low-cut sports top. He had also wondered where the hell you had bought that stuff, didn't the good old tracksuits that covered everything exist anymore?

“Well, you could at least try. We’ll start with a short route. Just a few miles, do you think you can do it?” You replied, batting your eyelashes and looking at him with an angelic expression.

“Sure, kiddo, I sweat all day to earn a living,” he retorted defiantly. “Who do you think I am?”

“An old man” you said candidly.

This time even your mother, who was usually composed and cared more about education than anything else, giggled.

Joel looked at you with an ironic expression “ok, little girl, I'm in”

“Good, then I'll see you at 6 because it will be too hot later, I'll come and knock on your door” you replied mischievously.

“Pfff Do you think it’s a problem for me to wake up early? I’ve been waking up at 5 for decades”

“Sure, but tomorrow is Saturday”

Joel rolled his eyes and let out a sigh.

You had won, incredible.

Your father looked at him smiling and shrugged, “what can I say, I have a smart daughter”

Oh sure, you looked so pleased with yourself.

You hadn't won the war yet though.

————

The next morning you wake up at 5, get ready, put on the shortest shorts you could find, a sports top that reaches just below your breasts, and go out quietly so as not to wake your parents.

You knock on Joel's door at 6 o'clock sharp, imagining his expression when he saw you.

Joel opens the door with a cup of coffee in his hand “hey girl! do you want a cup of coffee?” he asks you with a seraphic expression painted on his face.

He would never give you the satisfaction of being caught unprepared.

“I’ve already had it at my house. Don’t try to postpone the inevitable Mr Miller.” he hates it when you call him that, it makes him feel old and you know it.

“When did you become so simpering? I need to have a chat with your father.” he smirks.

“Of course” you reply rolling your eyes “So are you ready or not? I won’t wait all morning.”

“I was born ready, little rascal, I'll take this to the kitchen and then we can go”

“K, I’ll wait here”

You drum your fingers on the door frame as you watch him walk away. “Tick tock, tick tock,” you taunt and he turns to glare at you as he walks past the kitchen threshold.

You have to admit, he looks pretty cute in shorts, in fact, who are you trying to fool… he has amazing legs.

And clearly, even if you never tell him, you think that he doesn't need anything and that the effort he puts into his job has already shaped him enough. This is just an excuse to spend time alone with him.

“Come on, let’s go,” he says, closing the door and putting his keys in his pocket. “Keep up with me, old man,” you say, smiling before stepping off his porch and running as fast as you can.

You hear him swearing behind you as he tries to catch up. After a hundred meters you see him coming up beside you and he’s out of breath “you did it on purpose”

“Of course” you giggle looking straight ahead.

“Can we slow down a bit now or were you planning on giving me a heart attack?”

“Okay, okay, I don't want you on my conscience, Mr Miller,” you start walking at a fast pace “we can do this for a while”

You turn to him and see his face all red and sweaty. “Damn, are you down already?”

“Not a chance, little girl. And stop calling me Mr. Miller, you know it gets on my nerves.” he grunts trying to catch his breath

“Yes I know, Mr Miller” you reply with a flirtatious tone and you know he didn’t miss it because he turns to you and looks at you and his eyes say “I’m going to make you regret this”

“So, why did you come back here this summer?”

“College is expensive and my parents already do enough for me, I’m trying to save as much as I can.”

“It’s a smart move and indeed very thoughtful” he admits

"See? I'm not as bad as you think” you say glaring at him while you keep the pace “While we’re on the subject, you might not call me kiddo, I’m not a kid anymore.”

“Yeah, whatever, kiddo. I’m good now just in case you are interested”

“Ok, you asked for it” you say in a challenging tone and start running again as fast as you can.

“Hey!” He shout “you little cheeky thing!”

“Blame yourself for it, geriatric” you shout back.

Joel huffs and tries to run faster to catch up with you as you run away laughing.

He doesn't mind being behind though, he can see your ass bouncing hugged in those ridiculous shorts you've put on that barely cover your butt cheeks.

He’s not supposed to think certain things, but you've been mischievous since you got back.

He has noticed how you look at him and how you always try to argue with him, he is pretty sure that this is your way of flirting and he finds it quite funny.

And well… you're definitely cute, much cuter than he remembered.

He forced himself not to do anything because you are his best friend's daughter but you don't make it easy for him.

And now you’re here in those skimp shorts and that sports bra so small that your boobs look like they could pop out at any moment.

And the worst part is your attitude.

Fuck, you’re making a mess in his pants lately.

“Come on, old man, you can do it” oh you are so insolent in persisting in calling him old, he really should teach you a lesson.

He tries his hardest to reach you and you slow down, let him get a little closer and run away again.

“Jesus Christ” he cuss under his breath and try to run faster and you let him getting closer and then you sprint away again laughing and calling him a couch potato.

You keep going like this until he can finally reach you and he grab your wrist.

You turn to him “Hey! Let go of me!” you look like an angry kitten ready to scratch.

“Now we're taking a break,” Joel hisses.

“What the hell? There are still two miles to go”

“I SAID. We’re taking a break. Now”

“Okay, lazybones, whatever you want, don't get too nervous”

Joel is looking mad, which is so dumb, you were just kidding and he should know it.

It turns you on to see him like this though, you have to admit it.

“How about you let go of my wrist for starters?”

He lets go and looks at you askance.

He's drenched, little drops of sweat slide down the column of his neck, his black, soaked curls are plastered to his forehead, his damp t-shirt lets you glimpse the shape of his nipples.

God, he’s gorgeous.

His labored breathing sounds like a hoarse roar as he tells you, “I know what you’re trying to do.”

Yeah, you shouldn't be so horny for Joel but you can't help it.

“I’m doing nothing” you shout

“Don’t scream” his voice is low but nark.

He looks around, you are near the park and there is no one else.

Apparently you are the only ones who had the crazy idea of running at 6 on Saturday morning.

He grabs your arm and drags you inside, you try to resist “Joel!” but you don’t really want to. He stops behind a tree and pushes you against it.

“You’re trying to do nothing, huh? You haven't been trying to tease me since you got here, have you?“

“No” you say, but you're so delighted that he noticed.

“So at the Geller party last week you didn’t intentionally drop your glass in front of me and bend over to pick it up so I could see your panties, right?”

“I dropped a glass, that's all,” you coo.

“And not even the day you stood naked in front of your bedroom window? You knew I was in the garden, you saw me“

“I was in my room and I had just showered. It's not my fault that you are a voyeur”

“Sure. And the other day when I met you and your father at the cafe and you were eating ice cream? Even then you weren’t trying to do anything?”

Oh. He noticed that too.

Yep, you were busy with that spoon. Pretty cliché of you, you felt so silly.

But apparently it worked.

“It's you who sees mischief where there’s nothing”

“Oh sure, I imagined it” he hiss

You feel the bark stinging your back as he presses you against it, his arms at either side of you stretched out against the tree.

You could duck and run away if you wanted to. The point is, you don't want to.

“And tell me, what did you think you were going to do with these shorts and this top?”

“I was thinking of running” you shrug, and you look at him batting your eyelashes.

He snorts, “You’re such a brat”

You raise your chin slightly, resting your head against the tree “So what?” you ask defiantly “What do you want to do, you moldy old rag, punish me?”

He presses you even more against the tree, staying an inch from your face. You can feel his breath blowing on your skin.

“This attitude will not bring you anything good”

“oooh how scary”you whisper, looking him straight in the eyes.

He licks his lips “Is this what you want?”

“Yes”

His mouth is crushing on yours in a second, his tongue forces your lips and slips inside licking you hungrily and leaving you breathless, his beard scratching your skin.

You grab his cock through his shorts squeezing it and you can feel it’s already hard.

He pulls off and hiss “Fuck, baby, you don’t waste time”

“Yes, I never liked wasting my time” you purr

He takes your hand and raises your arm, pinning it against the tree. “And you think you deserve that?” he asks you authoritatively.

“What the fuck. Of course I do”

“I don’t think so. Here's what you're going to do now. You're going to shut your mouth and do what I tell you to do.”

“No” you hiss

“Oh you will, brat, if you want my dick”

“Fuck”

He looks around again to make sure there is no one in the park. “Kneel down.”

“On the ground?” you raise your eyebrow

“Yeah, on the ground princess. Kneel”

“But I-”

“KNEEL. Fuck, don't make me raise my voice, someone might hear”

You kneel in front of him and he pulls down his shorts just enough to pull his cock out.

It's huge.

You swallow, wondering how you're going to fit it in your mouth.

“Open” he orders

“It won’t fit” you’re suddenly intimidated.

“It will fit, darling, open wide”

“But Joel…”

“Open. Wide.”

You open your mouth as wide as you can and wait. He spit in his hand and strokes himself a couple of times and then starts to slide it into your mouth, onto your tongue.

Your gag reflex almost gets the better of you when you feel it hit the back of your throat.

His salty, musky flavor is all over your mouth.

Luckily you manage to hold back and look up at him “Just like that, honey. See how much easier it is when you stop being a brat?”

He grabs your ponytail and starts moving your head up and down its length, the ground scrapes your knees, you try to breathe through your nose but you're still tired from the run and it's not like Joel has given you so much time to recover.

You close your eyes and try to focus on your breathing but Joel immediately scolds you “eyes on me” and he tugs on your hair.

You grunt and in response he starts fucking your mouth again harder than before.

“Do as I say or your pussy won't even get touched today.”

And you stupidly think “well, I can do it myself” and you bring one hand up your shorts, right above your clit.

“What do you think you’re doing?” you immediately hear him say as he takes his cock out of your mouth.

His hand is still tight on your ponytail, he pulls your head and slaps his cock on your cheek.

“This is what you wanted, right?”

“Yes” you murmur

“A little bit louder, babe. I can’t hear you”

“Yes” you repeat.

“You don't have an ending until I say so, you understand?”

“Yes”

“Good. Stick out your tongue for me, baby”

And you do. You want it too much.

He goes back into your mouth and starts rutting into it savagely.

You feel tears stinging your eyes and the ground is now unbearable under your knees but you don't protest anymore, his big fat cock throbbing between your lips and its veins sliding on your tongue are too delicious to do without.

You feel your panties getting soaked.

You look into his eyes again and you can see a pleased expression painted all over his face.

It's so infuriating and rousing at the same time.

Fuck, Joel Miller.

You don't even know how long he keeps fucking your mouth, you’re totally cock drunk at this point.

His orgasm takes you by surprise, you feel his seed invade your mouth and drip down your chin.

He finally pulls back and smear his seed all over your lips with his thumb.

He forces your lips with his finger “lick it clean, babe”

And you do, like a kitten starved.

“Such a good girl” and his little praise goes straight to your clit.

He finally gets you off the ground and he puts his cock back in his pants.

You look down at your knees, they’re full of grass and dirt, you brush them off with the back of your hand and they hurt. Great. You already know you’re going to get bruises.

“What are you going to tell your parents?”

“That I gave you a blowjob in the park after running. What do you think? Jesus, I'll pretend that I fell to the ground like an idiot" and you roll your eyes.

“Don’t roll your eyes at me, bratty little thing” Joel smirk defiantly.

You sit up and lean back against the tree. You tug on his shirt, pulling him closer to you. “So are you going to fuck me or are you too old to come twice in a row?”

He doesn't even answer, he takes your wrists and holds them still against the tree with one hand, while he slips the other one past the elastic of your shorts and into your panties.

His thick, calloused fingers slide over your folds “You’re already soaking wet” and without warning he slides his index and middle fingers into your hole while his thumb presses on your clit.

You gasp so hard and he just says “God, you’re so tight, babe” and he starts curling them up into you “How does it feel?”

“Good” you whisper “so good, Joel, I feel so full”

“Yeah baby, that’s what daddy’s fingers are made for, to fill your pussy well” his scent mixed with sweat pervades your nostrils, he lowers his face to your neck and bites your skin while he doesn't stop moving inside you.

“Fuck” you hiss. You're intoxicated by him, your head is spinning “fuck, don’t stop, please”

“You drive me insane, you know that?”

And it’s absolutely true.

Joel shouldn't say this, but you've been stuck in his head like a nail since the day you got back and you won't leave him alone.

And now that he has let go of the leash of his inhibitions, it seems impossible to stop. He no longer knows how many times he has stopped to look at you, completely sucked in, his eyes glued to the curve of your ass or the roundness of your breasts, your nipples that peeked out from the fabric of your shirt.

And he managed to remain quiet anyway, until you pushed yourself to the limit by suggesting to go for a run together. And now he's even more fucked, because he's realized that feeling your mouth wrapped around his cock, your body on his, your tits pressed against his chest and your pussy opening up to his fingers is enrapturing.

And your shitty attitude actually makes him hornier.

“Fuck” he says in a hushed tone “Gosh, babe, you’re so pretty like that, all worked up over my fingers.”

“It feels so good, Joel, so good” you whine and you can hear you heart pounding in your chest so hard, he’s tormenting you as he slowly moves his fingers in and out of you “More, I want more”

“Ask nicely” his voice is firm

You look him in the eyes and you wonder why he can't be satisfied with your gaze, you're sure it’s eloquent enough at this moment.

“Please, Joel”

“What do you want, honey?”

“Your cock”

It’s incredible that you’re doing this in this park, you’re begging him to fuck you here.

In an hour at most it’ll start to fill up with people, probably even some of your neighbors who have known you forever. “Manners, babe” He bites one of your nipple through your sports bra and sucks greedily, wetting the fabric.

“Your cock - ah - please”

He lets go of your wrists and his hand comes out of your underwear, your pussy aching for a release.

He pulls down your shorts and frees his cock again, he puts your panties aside and takes his cock in his hand “spit” he orders you.

You look at him for a moment without understanding, dazed at the idea of having to take his massive cock in your cunt, which is what you asked for.

He snaps his fingers in front of your eyes “wake up honey. spit on it” he repeats.

You gather some saliva in your mouth and then let it drip from your lips, letting it fall onto his cock.

“Good girl. You'd be even better if you didn't make me repeat things twice, we need to work on this”

He pushes you back against the tree and slides inside you in one go and yes, you are dripping but his intrusion still rocks you for a moment.

It burns.

He stands still and looks you in the eyes “listen, we don’t have much time princess, don’t pout like that”

“Asshole” you say under breath.

He slaps you “watch your mouth, pretty thing”

Your cheek burns and yet you’re never been so aroused by anyone before.

“Fuck. Just… fuck me, please. Please, Joel”

He grabs your ass cheeks and starts moving inside you. You try to stifle your moans but one escapes your lips “God! Please Joel, please”

“Shut up. I wish I could stuff your panties in your mouth, brat” He silences you with a kiss while you think you wish he could.

And you're so delusional that you think "next time."

He licks into your mouth while he’s pumping into you, hitting your cervix just right, again and again.

And you’re almost there.

He pulls away from your mouth to catch his breath “Joel - I think - I think I’m coming”

He’s still pumping, faster and harder.

You hold onto his shoulders and clench your fists into his shirt “Joel I’m - ah- coming”

“Yes I feel it, I feel your pussy squeezing me, you’re doing it so good, so good for me, baby.”

“Joel” you're begging him, you're so close that you feel like you've lost your mind “Joel, please”

“Come for me, baby” he finally says against your skin “come hard for me”

You’ve been waiting for his permission and now that he's given it to you you feel your whole body shudder as a devastating orgasm washes all over you.

You're quivering against his broad chest, digging your nails into his shirt, trying to moan as little as possible to avoid making yourself heard.

He holds you tight as your legs shake.

He's still inside you and starts pumping harder after giving you time to calm down a bit "where do you want me to come?" "Inside" you whisper

"Fuck, baby, seriously?"

"Yes, I'm on the pill, please Joel, please fill me up"

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, oh my god, please give it to me”

“Yeah, you want it, huh? You want my cum dripping down your legs, huh?

You nod “yes, please, please Joel”

And he explodes inside you an instant later, you feel thick sticky streaks of his seed painting your walls and he’s grunting so hard.

He takes it off you and puts it back in his pants, you fix your panties and shorts as best you can and you already feel it dripping between your thighs and it's a sensation that drives you crazy.

“Fuck, you’re so gorgeous like that, all sweaty and hot for me”

You smile at him, actually grateful “it was amazing”

“Come on, let's get out of here before anyone sees us”

As soon as he finishes saying this, you see a man with a dog on a leash pass by on the other side of the park.

FUCK.

You run away as fast as you can and once outside Joel stops on the sidewalk, bending over and putting his hands on his knees to catch his breath. “Fuck, do you think he saw us?”

“No, I don’t think so. But you know what? I don’t care.”

“You’re such a bad girl.”

Maybe you do, but you really don’t care, you’re too happy.

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