#it’s not like her; she doesn’t normally do this kind of stuff and it’s really throwing me off | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

puck-luck · 4 months ago

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change-up | luke hughes

warnings: unprotected p in v, creampie, oral f!receiving, multiple orgasms, squirting, dirty talk, praise praise praise, fingering & masturbation, references to prior & future hookups, hookup culture, TW: hinge😩, mentions of size difference pairing: luke hughes x fem!reader summary: “because of how shy luke was when he first met reader, she thinks that he’s going to be inexperienced in bed and she‘ll to have to take the lead..but really lukey absolutely ruins her”, “could I please request luke Hughes smut where he loves being so much bigger than you”, “LOVEEDD the luke hughes one def write more dom stuff” wc: 4382

“Do you, maybe, want to go back to mine?” Luke asks quietly, his lips a mere nudge against the shell of your ear. Even in the loud bar, his voice cuts through the chatter like a flash of light.

You’d only met Luke earlier that night, a Hinge date gone right for you and your best friend. When Luke had invited you out to the bar he was at with some of his teammates, your best friend had jumped to point out that this could be your Kylie Kelce moment– you had to go and meet your Jason, even though Luke didn’t resemble the football player at all. Not that you minded.

You consider his words– Luke’s arm is thrown over your shoulder comfortably. His body is warm against yours. He’s been pretty shy all night, quiet enough that you felt like you had to control the conversation, but while Luke was in the bathroom, one of his buddies had revealed that that was normal for Luke. He was a quiet boy around new people– it didn’t mean he didn’t like you.

Clearly, it didn’t mean he didn’t like you. If he didn’t like you, he wouldn’t be inviting you back to his apartment. You’re not a fool. You know what that means.

Regardless, you agree. “Sure,” you say with a smile.

Luke returns the smile, leaning over you to gesture towards the bartender. He closes his tab, which houses both his and your drinks. You each had only had two drinks, so you’re feeling tipsy, but not drunk enough to stop what’s about to happen.

Once Luke has closed out, he guides you to his car and opens the door in a gentlemanly way for you. The ride to his home is silent save for the country music playing from the radio. Luke’s hand rests on your knee, a weight that has you squirming.

As shy as he is, you’ve come to realize that Luke’s love language is easily physical touch. He’s been sweet when he speaks with you, and he paid for all of your drinks, which kept words of affirmation and gift giving in the running for a while, but he’s kept a hand on you all night.

He had seemed hesitant to do so, playing it safe by touching your arm or your knee or your shoulder. When you hadn’t shrugged him off, but rather presented him with a smile and a lean into his heat, Luke had become more sure with it.

You don’t know anything about his sex life or how experienced or inexperienced he is, but you expect that you’ll have to do the same thing in bed. You’ll have to reassure him that yes, you actually want to do this, and you actually like this. He’ll want to make sure he’s being good for you, because he’s the sweetest, but if you’re honest, you’re a little disappointed that you’ll have to take the lead.

One of the reasons why you had matched with Luke on Hinge, aside from how cute he was, was that he looked like an athlete. You’ve always been someone who likes to be overpowered a bit, liking someone bigger than you, and Luke looked like he could throw you around easily. You wanted him to do so, but that just doesn’t seem like it’s in the cards tonight, and you can accept that. You’ll hook up with someone else who will toss you around eventually– but Luke is too pretty and too kind to pass up.

When he pulls into the garage and parks, Luke rounds the car and opens your door for you. He leads you by the hand into his apartment. Your purse slips down your arm and, once inside the apartment, Luke takes it from you and hangs it on a hook near his front door.

The apartment is still dark and you find yourself distracted trying to look at his furniture through the shadows. Giving up, you turn back to face Luke with a smile on your face.

Shockingly, he’s already moving toward you.

Luke pushes you against the wall, his hands on your hips. He’s kissing you, swallowing your noise of surprise. You’re frozen against him for just a moment, caught off guard by his insistent movements and confident grip on your sides. You melt into his touch when his presence finally registers, the catalyst being Luke’s fingers shifting to tug at the belt loops on your jeans. You place your forearms on his shoulders, crossing your wrists behind his head.

Luke pulls your hips against his, pressing into you with his growing length. He’s leaning over you, causing your shoulders and head to rest against the wall while your back and hips arch into him. Smoothly, he steps forward and moves one of his hands so he’s bracketing your head.

His tongue flexes when he enters your mouth, his muscle sliding against your own. You melt even further against him, moaning against his lips. You sag against the wall and Luke’s strong hands catch you, holding you upright.

His fingers roam along your skin, eventually resting on the swell of your ass. He squeezes your cheeks harshly, grunting in appreciation as your bottom fills his large hands. Luke lifts you up and you wrap your legs around his waist, sitting prettily with your clothed core barely brushing his cock. You grind down against him, and Luke’s mouth curves in a smile, lips still touching your own.

“Eager,” he mumbles, sounding smug.

“Happily surprised,” you correct, words muffled and interrupted by your kisses. “I thought you’d be shy.”

“Mm, not when we’re alone,” Luke hums, holding you with one hand around your waist. He starts to march down the dark hallway, pushing open his bedroom door with a bang. “Not when I’m so close to getting what I want.”

Luke gently lays you on his bed, hands splayed across your back. He’s still kissing you, adamant and consistent. Now, he’s got gravity on his side. His body is covering your own, trapping you against the soft mattress. A soft curse leaves your mouth, filling Luke’s. You’re sharing the air between yourselves, aching for the other person.

“What do you want?” You ask, one of your hands finding his curls and toying with the strands.

Luke groans, parting from you to nuzzle against your neck as you continue to scratch against his scalp. He mouths over your neck messily, his tongue painting your skin like long brush strokes across a canvas.

“Want to mark you up,” Luke mutters, nipping at your neck. He sucks the fleshy skin at the base of your neck between your clavicles. “I want you to remember this night.”

You moan, curling a hand along his collar and pulling at the t-shirt adorning his body in an entirely unnecessary way, in your opinion. You expose his collarbone, sharp and smooth all at once, but you don’t get to reap the rewards.

Luke instead just chuckles and bats your hand away, capturing it in his own. He presses your wrist into the mattress above your head, exposing you further. “I want to make sure you think about me for weeks.” Luke feeds the promise to you with a swipe of his tongue against your bottom lip and a tiny nibble along the same path. “That every time you get yourself off, you think about how my fingers would be better than your own, or that my cock would fill you better than any toy you own, or any other boy you find.”

You knew that this would be a hook-up sort of thing, nothing more serious because Luke’s Hinge profile clearly stated he wasn’t looking for anything long term, but his possessive tone fuels a fire in you that has you whining and tugging his hair.

He shifts your hand to join the other, his fingers gripping both of your wrists while his other hand starts to explore your body. He dances over the curves of your breasts, along your elongated stomach. Your ribs are prominent and your stomach is flatter with your back against the bed– and Luke touches your skin like you’re precious to him. For a first night together, you already feel so seen.

After caressing your skin, Luke pulls your shirt up and bundles the fabric near the base of your neck, revealing your little lacy bralette to him. He licks along the band, going from your neck down the V of your chest, then back up to your other shoulder. You watch his nose bump against your curves and your jaw slackens a bit with the possibilities that are running through your head.

You’d give anything to get his mouth on your clit, already swollen and pulsing with faux-lightning shocks from each of Luke’s touches.

“Eat me out,” you say, a push in the right direction. Boys like when girls speak their mind, right?

Luke stills, his lips hovering above your sternum. You watch him smirk, then resume his kissing, sweet wet pecks marking the space where your breasts meet. “Lost your manners?” He finally asks, pulling away from your body to remove your shirt. He leaves it tangled along your wrist, wrapping it a few times and tucking the end into the band of your watch to secure the fabric in place.

You pout petulantly and Luke slides off the bed, kneeling between your legs that are bent over the side of the bed. He runs a finger along the seam of your jeans, taking extra care to rub his knuckle over your clothed entrance. You keen and he draws his hand up, resting it on your mound with his thumb stationary and heavy against your clit.

“Baby, I want to,” Luke assures you, his thumb lifting up and patting your clit a few times, causing you to jolt. “But I can’t until you ask me nicely.” He starts to rub your clothed clit, up and down in slow movements. He’s peering up at you with wide eyes, blinking like he’s innocent even though he’s driving you crazy.

“Please?” You try, your voice a little squeaky.

A tiny smile on his face, Luke tilts his head at you. “You can do better than that,” he says, shifting forward to plant a kiss where his thumb rested. “Give it a second try.”

“Please eat me out, Luke,” you say, putting another pout on your face for good measure.

“Better,” Luke teases, trailing off. He reaches for your zipper, dragging it down. He inches the denim down your legs, revealing the panties that you’re practically soaking with your slick. They match your bralette– a purposeful decision that doesn’t do unnoticed by Luke. He thumbs over your clit again, then dips lower to flick over the wet spot staining the fabric. “Keep going. I want you to beg.”

He removes your pants with a kiss to the inside of your knee. His hands move to your thighs, feeling up the skin, keeping you warm in the chilled apartment. His breath passes over your core as he switches sides and you ache for him. It breaks the floodgates and you give him exactly what he wants, falling into that submissive role you’re able to fill so well.

“I need to feel your mouth on me, Luke. I know it’ll be so good– I know you’ll make me feel so good. Fuck, Luke, I want to come on your tongue. Taste me, please, please fuck me with your tongue.”

Luke’s crooked grin returns, his teeth peeking out from behind his lips and glinting at you. “Such dirty words for such a pretty girl,” he teases, but he hooks his fingers along the crotch of your panties and tugs them to the side, revealing your wet folds. He flexes his tongue, pointing it into a solid spear that he uses to spread your lower lips and locate your entrance. “Let’s see how fast I can make you come,” Luke murmurs before diving in and lathering your clit in a wet kiss.

He pushes your legs apart, using his strong hands to pin your hips to the bed and keep them there. You want to wiggle out from under him and grind against his face, but Luke forces you to relinquish control with his size and strength.

It’s just what you wanted. Whining and tugging at the fabric around your wrists (easily removable, although you choose not to do so), you relax against the mattress and let Luke have his way with you.

He loves it, eating you out like he could do this for hours, like he could die happy between your leg. He’s moaning against you and massaging praise into your skin, all while licking every inch of your cunt. He fucks his tongue into you, he spits along your folds and watches the saliva drip down the crack of your behind before scooping it back up with his tongue and closing his lips around your clit. He leaves you wetter and wetter each time he pulls away, admiring his handiwork from a distance with a slack jaw before locating his next target and assaulting it with his tongue and gentle scrapes of his teeth. The first time he swept his bottom teeth against your clit, you flinched, but it quickly became a moan for more.

You’ve always been a glutton, addicted to toeing the line between pleasure and pain.

It surprises you that Luke is the same way– although he would prefer to inflict the sensation than receive it. You align perfectly.

The sharp press of his tongue inside you draws a litany of noises from your mouth and it reinvigorates Luke’s efforts, with him flicking the muscle as far as he can within your cunt. He clutches at your skin, reaching under you to envelop both of your ass cheeks in his palms and lift your pussy to meet his face. There’s no room for reprieve, no space between you, and Luke is bullying your core with inconsistent nudges of his nose to your clit.

“Luke, my clit,” you beg, chest heaving with how badly you yearn for your release. “Please.”

“You can come without that,” Luke replies, licking over the bundle once in consolation before returning to your hole, where you’re leaking fluids. Slick, saliva, and your impending orgasm all find their way onto Luke’s tongue, running down his chin and moistening the bed beneath you. You can feel the sheets growing wet beneath you, but you don’t care. Luke is making you feel even better than you imagined he would.

You come over his tongue with a series of moans, bringing your still-tied hands down to his hair and tugging at his locks. Luke flicks over clit with quick kitten licks, only stopping when you’re crying out from oversensitivity

Luke kisses up your body, capturing your nipples between his lips over the lace fabric of your bralette, leaving the peaks pointed and cold when his mouth travels further north.

He brings his lips to yours, ravishing the plush curves until they’re red and bruised. All the while, Luke mumbles praises to you until they blur together and you’re arching your back to feel his torso against yours again.

“You wanna go again?” Luke checks, nibbling on your bottom lip. “Ready to give me another one?”

“Yeah,” you breathe out, nodding and knocking your nose against his. He leans in and gives you a proper Eskimo kiss before pecking you one last time.

Luke uses his strong hands to maneuver you the way he wants– chest pressed into the bed, ass pulled up and flush with his groin as he kneels behind you. He snaps the band of your bralette against your shoulderblade, then kneads the skin of your hips.

“Close your eyes, babydoll,” Luke commands in a gentle voice. “I want you to feel this, just focus on feeling me.”

He rolls his hips against your behind, his cock still clothed but poking at the fabric like it’s trying to find its mark and sink into your heat. He pulls you against him and you wiggle your hips, obeying his command and closing your eyes. Your t-shirt fell from your wrists during the repositioning, so you clutch freely at the pillow under your head with one hand and hold your breast with the other. You squeeze the skin, moaning at the pleasure.

Luke brings your attention back to him with a sharp spank, making you yelp and clench down with both of your hands, scrambling for something to ground you. Luke chuckles and spanks you again, harder this time and on your other cheek.

“Can’t wait to see this ass bounce,” Luke announces, smirking obviously even though you can’t see it. “I’m gonna make sure it’s pretty and pink while I fill your pussy up.”

If your eyes weren’t shut, they’d be rolling in your head at his words. You’re helpless, reduced to a moaning mess beneath Luke.

You had no idea that the night would turn out like this, having fully expected to push him down and ride him until he came inside of you because he just couldn’t take the pleasure any longer. The tables have turned– now you’re the one leaking beneath him, your hole spread open from his thorough meal and positively waiting for him.

Luke disappears from behind you to remove his shorts, you assume. You keep your eyes closed and you hold your position, hoping your obedience will result in a reward.

His voice washes over you, warming you like he’s still draped over your shoulder back at the bar.

“Keep yourself full for me while I grab something, eh?” Luke asks, a prodding question that you’re scrambling to fulfill before he can even finish his sentence.

Your middle two fingers slide into your hole, a wet squelch pushing a breath of a laugh out of Luke from his distance. You grind against the heel of your hand, spreading your knees for more leverage.

“Good girl,” Luke coos, making his way back onto the bed. He’s behind you once again, naked, and you wish you could open your eyes and sneak a peek at his cock. You want to see how well endowed he is, feeling him brush against your thigh before a line of spit drips down your crack and crawls toward your hole.

You fuck yourself on your fingers, hips rocking back. There are whimpers and whines filling the room, sounding needy and desperate for more, and it takes you a minute to realize that the words are muffled into the pillow, falling from your mouth. Biting down on the pillow to silence yourself, you curl your fingers inside yourself, hoping to reach your g-spot. In this position, you fall just short.

Luke’s index finger traces over the valley of your fingers, nearing your entrance. He’s silent, his moves calculated, and his index finger presses into you. He joins your middle and ring finger, his index finger reaching your insides in a way that has you keening. You can feel his fingertips against your nailbeds, then Luke wiggles his finger in further.

You feel like you actually drip onto the bed when he pets over your g-spot, the spot that you couldn’t find on your own. Your knees are wide and your hips are slowly coming lower and lower. Your body is defaulting to the position in which you’ve gotten off so many times– hips flush against the bed, clit rubbing against your palm as you clench down on your own fingers.

Luke uses his knee to bring your ass back up to its previous height, swatting at your flesh when you let out a complaint at the loss. Your clit is feeling neglected, practically calling out for pleasure, but the feeling of your fingers– and Luke’s– inside you is too good to take away.

So Luke does it for you. He removes his finger from your heat and digs under your knuckles, removing your digits from their wet home. The loss of contact comes with a devastating empty feeling and Luke soothes you with a cooed praise when you express your discontent.

He solves the problem by slapping his thick cockhead against your open hole, resting it there until you’re squirming against him and pleas are leaving you with increasing intensity and higher pitch.

“Shh, baby, it’s okay,” Luke murmurs, pinching your skin as a reprimand. “You’ve been so good, listening to me so well. I’m going to reward you, don’t worry. Let me take care of you.”

He inches his cock inside your pussy achingly slow. You can feel every inch of him, every vein rubbing against your walls. You can feel the precum leaking from his slit and mixing with your own wetness. His tip finally nudges at your cervix, kissing the opening with another blurt of precum, and you ache for Luke to fill you up. You wish you were facing him so that he could drop a line of spit onto your tongue in a similar way.

When Luke starts to move, drawing himself out of you then forcing his way back in, all images disappear from your mind. His cock is all you can focus on– the warmth, how it’s pulsing inside of you, how it’s stretching your hole even though you had three fingers inside of it just minutes ago.

Luke is consistent, fucking into you with hard and sure thrusts that leave you moaning. A puddle of drool is pooling on the pillow and your mouth is nearly constantly open, your tongue dry and breaths ragged. Your noises continue in their high-pitched tone, spurring Luke on. He pounds your pussy, ruining it for everyone else.

Luke was right. You’d be thinking about him for weeks to come.

He has you shrieking with each slap to your ass, the skin growing hot and becoming more red with each swat. You had no idea that you could be so loud in bed– you’ve normally got a handle on yourself. Normally, you’re not so wet that each thrust results in a pornographic sound of skin meeting skin.

Luke is in a league all of his own.

“So tight,” he groans. “‘M gonna come, baby.”

“Come in me,” you beg. “Fuck, Luke, come in me.”

“I will,” he promises. “I want you to come first.”

Your abdomen is tight, burning with the need to release. You feel like you could explode and the thought pops into your head– you’d never been able to before, not with another man nor when fucking yourself, but you bet you could squirt now.

“Can I touch?” You ask, desperate. “Please, wanna touch my clit. Wanna come for you. Wanna be good. Please, Luke, tell me I can.”

“Go on,” he encourages. “Let me feel you.”

It’s like an out of body experience. You have control of your hands, but your fingers feel foreign as they find your clit and start to rub frantic circles over the bundle. Your chest is snug against the bedsheets. You spread your legs even further, needing the space to keep yourself open and feel even wider. Luke notices and loops a hand under your thigh, lifting the leg and holding it up. He’s able to keep you balanced, able to keep you steady as your fingers slide over your dripping cunt.

His grunts and moans spur you on, your back arching. His tip finds your g-spot and abuses it, knocking the air out of you with each bump.

“Luke,” you whine, his name elongated on your tongue.

“I’m here, baby, let go.”

He’s reassuring and calm, so sure behind you and panting. He drapes himself over your back, kissing behind your ear.

It’s the smooth brush of his lips that sends you over the edge. Your vision, already black, turns into a staticky void that you fall down like you’re skydiving.

Luke is your parachute, fucking you through the spray of your orgasm and releasing his own seed inside of you. He fills you up with his warmth, fucking you until you’re sagging on the bed and breathing hard, barely able to move. Luke drags his cock out of your cunt and brings some of his come with it, although he promptly plugs you with his fingers and a kiss once he’s turned you over onto your back.

His fingers are mostly still inside you, slowly pumping in and out in a way that isn’t meant to derive pleasure. He simply wants to feel you. His kisses are soft and sweet, soothing you and bringing you back down to Earth.

Eventually, you regain control of your limbs. You shift one of your legs over Luke’s hips and cuddle close to him, rolling your hips against his finger. Your tongue slides against his, tasting your first orgasm on his lips.

The moment dies slowly. You’re both tired, ready to sleep. Luke draws his fingers out of your entrance, pecking your lips one last time.

“Go pee, baby,” he tells you. “You’re not getting a UTI on my account. I’ll get some PJs for you while you’re gone, then we can take a shower in the morning after I serve you some breakfast in bed.”

“Mmm,” you hum, beaming. You lean up to kiss Luke again. “How’d you get so good at aftercare? Lots of experience?”

“Just want to make sure you’re satisfied,” Luke replies, fondly smiling at you when you roll away and patter towards his ensuite bathroom. He laughs a little as you cringe, the mixture of come seeping out of your hole and dripping down your thighs.

“How about I take a quick shower now and we’ll discuss that breakfast in bed when I’m done?” You tease, already pulling back his shower curtain and turning the nozzles to find your optimum heat.

“Don’t pee in my shower,” Luke calls, pushing the covers off the bed and gathering the wet sheets to throw in the wash. He’ll put new sheets on the bed while you’re cleaning yourself.

“I’m not!” You deny, affronted. “How dare you assume such a thing?”

The last thing you hear before stepping into Luke’s shower is his cheeky, throaty laugh. You fail to bite back the smile that comes with it.

#puck-luck's fics #andy writes anything🍄#luke hughes #luke hughes smut #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes x y/n #lh43 #nhl smut #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #hockey smut

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charliemwrites · 4 months ago

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Part 5 of Mister(s) Steal Your Girl

Long awaited, but no Johnny smut just yet. Soon, I promise. (And Kyle will be back. It's been so long since he's gotten to smooch our dear reader.)

Also! A little reminder than you can check the queue to see what I plan to post for next. I try to update it often as the worms wiggle. Next I plan to do the final chapter of Greater Bad. (Unless I get my not-so-secret, no-longer-a-surprise oneshot out first)

Lastly! Please note that I wrote the "posts" from his perspective. So inconsistencies with the actual story and any grammar/spelling errors were purposeful or for "authenticity".

Content: Brandon.

r/CakeEater _OnBrand_ I asked my fiancé for an open relationship before marriage. It worked. A while ago I posted on r/adultery about the affairs (yes, multiple) I was having behind my then-gf’s back. We’d already been dating for ~4 years and I was seeing one of my coworkers (my “work wife”) regularly and one of her coworkers on and off. People on my other post were critical and called me all sorts of things like selfish and pig. I know it’s not traditional, but I genuinely don’t think I could ever be satisfied by one woman. My work wife (Rachel) and fiance’s coworker (Lucy) provide things my fiancé just can’t but I still love my fiancé. She’s the woman I’m going to spend the rest of my life with. When I posted on r/adultery I was trying to figure out how to propose without her finding out. I knew she’d expect me to help with stuff and possibly want to look at my phone more often. It would have been harder to sneak off to meet up with Lucy or Rachel with wedding planning and I was sick of being stressed she would find out. Some nicer people on the post suggested I ask for an open relationship. I took their advice and sat her down to sell the idea. It’s a good thing I’m so good at sales (top 3% in my company for 5 years in a row) because she agreed. Yes, actually agreed. At first she got kind of pale and her eyes got really big and blank. I thought for sure she was about to start crying and run off. Maybe even kick me out. She doesn’t really get angry but she gets upset and it freaks me out. After I explained everything about how good it would be for us though, she agreed. This is my official unlimited hallpass. I’ve been seeing Rachel on weekends and Lucy once or twice during the week for drinks. Tonight I’m going to sign up for every dating site I can. Tinder, Bumble, Hinge. If anyone has other suggestions, I’ll check those out too. Fiance has been kind of off but I think it’s just an adjustment period. Sometimes I can tell she’s been crying but she hasn’t come to me about it so she’s probably just being emotional about all the changes. At least she’s got our house to focus on while she gets used to things. I feel a little bad about running out every night but she’s just so mopey and sad all the time and it’s not enjoyable to be around. I know she probably feels like I’m abandoning her a little but once she starts getting back to normal I’ll spend time with her again. You really can have your cake (all the cakes heh) and eat them too. Edit: no, I never told her that I already had Lucy and Rachel and I’m not going to. What good would it do? She’s already agreed to an open relationship and telling her that I didn’t have permission first would just hurt her for no reason.

Kyle’s been gone for two (long, lonely) weeks when he finally gets a chance to call. So far, he’s only been able to send scattered texts at odd hours. Always something sweet – telling you he’s alright, or that he’s thinking of you. Sometimes you even catch him for a brief exchange before he apologizes and “goes dark” again.

Not that you begrudge it. This is part and parcel of dating him and you knew that going in. You’re not complaining when he’s putting his life on the line so that the public can live in blissful peace.

That doesn’t stop you from missing him though. His hugs, his smile. Getting his voice - even roughened by distance - is a nice compromise though.

“How have you been holding up, chickadee?” he asks after the initial reassurance that he’s whole and hale.

“Easier this time!” you answer proudly. “I know what to expect with you gone and Johnny’s good company.”

“Yeah?” he asks, sounding pleased.

You can just imagine him now, leaning his hip against the nearest surface, arms crossed over his broad chest. He tends to duck his head when he smiles, and you unintentionally grin to yourself, thinking of him hiding into his phone. God, you miss him.

“Mhmm! We found a board game bar that you’re going to love. Oh, and we’re going to the Hay Festival this weekend.”

He hums. “I’m sorry I can’t be there to take you, luv, but I knew Johnny would be good to you.”

More than good to you, really. There’s not been a day he doesn’t call to check up on you - if he doesn’t see you in person, that is. Dinner, movies, coffee. He’s somehow both a gentleman and an incorrigible flirt, but only with you. He’s nothing more than polite to anyone else, keeping his focus on you and whatever the two of you are doing.

You don’t know what to do with the undivided attention. If you didn’t know better…

“You two are getting close,” Kyle observes.

“I think so,” you admit, then hesitate. “Is… that okay?”

“‘Course, luv. I’m glad.”

You blink. “You are?”

“He’s my best mate and you’re my best girl.”

An odd pang of anxiety pierces your chest. Johnny calls you that too. His “best girl.” You love hearing it - but maybe you shouldn’t?

“It… doesn’t bother you? That we’re spending so much time together.”

He snorts softly, but it’s not derisive. It’s a noise he makes whenever he thinks you’re being silly, but his voice comes out soft and warm. Not an ounce of condescension.

“No, baby, I’m not fussed. You spend your time with whoever you want, however you want. Yeah?”

Your chest floods with warmth. “Okay.”

“There’s a love. I’ve got a brief, so I have to go. I’ll call soon as I can.”

“Be safe, Ky.”

“Do my best. Give Soap a smooch for us, aye?”

You blink as he hangs up. That’s a new one.

You ponder over it while packing on Thursday night. Was it just a joke? A tease at the little crush you’ve developed for Johnny?

Because it is a crush, you know it is. It’s impossible not to be attracted to him. Not with that smile, that laugh, the goofy humor and sweet mannerisms. He still sends you flowers every few weeks - just as the previous ones are about to die. It’s so thoughtful; you’ve started feeling a bit warm every time you look at them.

But you feel greedy, being even remotely interested in anyone else. You have Kyle and Brandon (even if you two are going through a… patch) and that should be enough for you. Shouldn’t it? You’ve never been with more than one person at a time before; it took you weeks to shake the compulsory guilt when you first met Kyle. It feels almost unforgivably audacious to want Johnny too, especially since he’s Kyle’s best mate.

Still… Kyle’s not a jealous or passive-aggressive guy. You’ve been with him long enough now that you know he’d just tell you outright if he was unhappy about something. And he’s been with you long enough that he can surely tell you’re more than a bit fond of Johnny.

Maybe that’s why he made the joke about “smooching” him.

Regardless, you want to talk to him about it. Things always make sense when you think out loud to him. His levelheaded and practical approach to difficult topics always straightens your panic spirals out into neat lines.

Plus, it’s not as comforting to hold your own hand. (God, when is he getting back?)

“Where are you going?”

You blink up at Brandon, folded pajamas in hand.

“The Hay Festival,” you answer.

Speaking of - you slip past him into the bathroom. He doesn’t follow, rooted to the spot spinning his phone around in his hands.

“Alone?”

You snort. “Of course not, I’m going with a friend.”

The allergy pills are at the bottom of the medicine basket beneath the sink. You really need to organize it the next time Johnny’s too busy to hang out. There’s no way you need three bottles of paracetamol.

“I need that suitcase.”

You toss the bottle in and pivot for the dresser. “What for?”

He shifts, eyes sliding away. “An… overnight.”

Ah. That’s what he’s calling it now?

You snatch a few (too many) pairs of underwear from the dresser.

“Just bring them here,” you say over your shoulder.

There’s a long, tense beat of silence but you’re too busy rummaging for socks to break it first. Will it be too warm for thigh-highs? Eh, you’ll go with the sheer ones; the little lace roses match one of your dresses anyway.

“Bring who here?” Brandon asks slowly.

When you turn, he looks paler than usual. You shrug, trying to project casual comfort.

This is a totally normal and reasonable conversation to have. Just a couple in an open relationship, discussing a stranger coming to the house for a shag. Nothing to make a fuss over.

“Whoever you need the suitcase for? I know you’ve had people over before anyway, and I’ll be gone all weekend.”

He stutters, color returning to his face in bright pink blooms. “Why do you think I’ve had people over before?”

You arch an eyebrow. “I do the laundry, remember? And there was lipstick on one of the wine glasses.”

That had sent you into a tizzy at the time, disgusted that some stranger was in your bed, with your fiancé. You washed the sheets twice on the hottest setting and tossed in a bit of bleach for good measure. Hadn’t been able to look at him the whole week - not that he was there much to not look at.

Now, though, you seem to have adjusted to the idea, even if you’re still not thrilled. Brandon can have his… whoever over, and you’ll goof around with Johnny in Wales.

“Just toss the bedding in the wash afterwards,” you add.

“I thought you do the laundry,” he sniffs.

“I’m not traveling all day just to do chores when I get home,” you answer. He does a double take like you’ve started speaking a new language. “You’ll be here all weekend, I’m sure you’ll have time.”

He opens his mouth, and you can tell already that he’s about to argue - though you don’t really know what about. It’s not like he can’t do laundry or dishes, after all. He lived alone before you moved in together.

Thankfully, his phone distracts him before he can form the words. He spins away to tap at the screen and shuffles out of the room, shoulders till tense. You go back to packing and teasing Johnny about the amount of hair gel he’ll bring.

Friday afternoon can’t come fast enough. Even though you’ve taken a half day from work, the few hours seem to drag. You’re practically daydreaming about the food and drinks, music and activities. There’s a baker’s dozen art stalls you want to check out as well, and a gift to pick out for Kyle…

“Hope yer thinkin’ o’ me when ye make tha’ face.”

Your head snaps around so fast, you nearly give yourself whiplash. Johnny grins down at you in all his casually handsome glory – ripped jeans, green tee, and brown boots. Angels are singing somewhere, you think. Or maybe that’s just your nosy coworkers ogling from their own cubicles.

The reality of him sinks in a moment later and you leap up from your cushy chair – and right into his arms. He’s like a furnace compared to the cool, conditioned air of your office, a welcome source of warmth for your chilly fingers.

“What are you doing here?” you giggle. “Who let a rowdy guy like you in?”

He smells like bergamot and pine. It takes active thought to resist pressing your face into the crook of his neck. It looks cozy there.

As always, he squeezes you a bit tighter just before letting go.

“Hey now, Marcy’s a discerning lady. She knows a fine gentleman when she sees one.”

You snort, belied by the smile curling your lips. “She may need new glass then.”

“Och, don’t go talkin’ poor about my second-best gal now.”

“Is it that easy to get in your good graces?” you scoff, glancing at the time on your computer. It’s later than you expected; no wonder he came up to retrieve you. You spent so long daydreaming that you’ve lost track of time.

“Aw don’ be green, dove, you’re still my number one. Send ye flowers ‘n all.”

You roll your eyes at him. “Yeah, and now I’m wondering just how special that is.”

He stands close, proclaiming his case for how obviously special you are while you shut everything down for the weekend. You’re only half listening to the bit, admittedly. Mostly just basking in your excitement for the mini road trip and the weekend to come. You have no doubt that it’s going to be fun, even if it would be better with Kyle along too.

“Where are you headed off to?” Lucy asks.

“Hay Festival,” you answer shortly.

You’ve never been a big fan of Lucy, but lately she’s been insufferable. Talking over you during meetings, leaving you out of emails, throwing away papers at the printer. (Okay, you haven’t seen her do that last one, but you know.) Worst of all, she can help but make backhanded comments about every flower delivery.

“You’re not taking Brandon?” she simpers. “Something wrong?”

“He’s hanging out with a friend this weekend too,” you correct, “and he doesn’t like hay.”

“Shame that,” Johnny adds, sounding like it’s not a shame at all.

You haven’t told him much about Brandon – but you’re sure that Kyle has. From the face Johnny makes the rare times your fiancé comes up in conversation, he doesn’t think much of Brandon.

“Have fun you two!” your manager, Selene, calls.

You wave and shoot Lucy one last, unimpressed glance before stepping onto the elevator with Johnny.

r/CakeEater _OnBrand_ My fiancé is going on a weekend getaway with another man. I’ve posted in r/adultery and r/cakeeater before. I’m not looking for judgement or insults here. I really just want advice.

A little context: my fiancé and I are in an open relationship and it’s been like this for a few months now. I originally asked her to ope the relationship and for a while she was weird about it but lately she’s been getting sbetter. I thought she was finally getting used to me going out with other women and things were getting back to normal.

A few weeks ago, I noticed she was on her phone more. Like, all the time. Even at dinner when she used to be really picky about phones at the table. One day I came home from work and she was talking on the phone to someone. Giggling and laughing. When I turned the corner she was kind of blushing too. It kind of bothered me but I figured she was talking to a friend and just hot from cooking or something.

Lucy texted me pissed off one day, asking why I was sending my fiancé flowers but not her. I told her I hadn’t sent any flowers. I think they’re way too expensive for how long they realistically last and that they take up a lot of unnecessary space. But I thought it was weird that someone was sending my fiancé flowers and got kind of uncomfortable. That’s a pretty romantic gesture and her family isn’t the type to randomly send flowers either.

I tried taking her out on a date but she was all mopey again and turned her phone to ‘do not disturb’ so I wouldn’t even see if she was texting someone. We don’t have much to talk about now. I love her but she’s not a good storyteller or into very interesting things. All her ‘funny stories’ are just mundane things that happen during the day. We’ve run out of interesting topics about because we’ve been together so long. (That’s why I like having more than one partner.)

Yesterday she randomly started packing for a trip. I don’t even think she was planning to tell me until I asked her. She was packing a bunch of cute clothes too. Like dresses and tights and things like that. Stuff she only used to wear on our dates. I asked who she was going with and she just said ‘a friend’ which is weird because she would usually say the name of someone even if I don’t remember who they are.

Well today Lucy sent me a picture of my fiancé leaving her job with some guy. I couldn’t see his face because he was turned away, but I could see the side of my fiancé’s face and she was smiling at him. I got this awful sinking feeling in my chest like it was hard to breathe. It took me a few minutes to process that she’s going away for a weekend with a complete stranger.

Doesn’t she know how dangerous that is? Where did she even meet this guy? They’ll be gone all weekend so are they sharing a room? A bed? I nearly threw up thinking all these things as I called her.

I asked her to cancel her plans and come home. She seemed confused and reminded me that her plans were with someone else and it would be rude to ditch last minute. I told her I wanted to spend the weekend with her and that I’d been missing her. She seemed surprised and said that she’d see me on Sunday night, but she was looking forward to the festival with her ‘friend’ and wanted to go. As a last ditch effort I asked if her friend was more important than me, nearly begging at that point. She must have heard the desperation in my voice, but she just told me that she was already on the road and it was too late.

My fiancé doesn’t like lying but it’s hard to believe this guy was just a friend. Even if she sees him as a friend I know how men think and I doubt he sees her the same way.

She said some other weird stuff before she left about having someone over while she was gone. I don’t get it. How could she just casually invite someone else into our house like that? Has she had other people over? Is she dating now?

I’m not sure what to do. I don’t like that she put this trip over me. Should I talk to her about how bad this makes me feel? Should I call again and tell her to come home more forcefully? Am I blowing all of this out of proportion?

Edit: she doesn’t know that I’ve been seeing Lucy. I haven’t told my fiancé about any of the women I’ve been seeing. (mostly just Lucy and Rachel. I’ve done a lot of texting through apps and gone on a bunch of first place, but most women don’t put out right away and I usually can’t be bothered to get to know them better). Even then, I wouldn’t tell her about lucy. They don’t get along and never have. It would cause a lot of unnecessary drama.

First | Previous | TBC... Masterlist

#cod #my writing #fanfiction #reader fic #misters steal your girl #kyle gaz x reader #john soap mactavish #healthy polyamory #brandon the crash dummy

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hamilando · 15 days ago

Text

ੈ✩ 4K video (smau) ੈ✩

pairing : lando norris x fem reader

summary: some things are better kept quiet about

tw : angst, fluff

fc : ester expostio

a/n : thank you so much to @evasmlp for suggesting this ! lysm 🫶🏻 THIS FIC CONTAINS SENSITIVE TOPICS ( leaked videos, hate, s!ut shaming) please understand that I don’t mean to harm anyone with this fic, but kind of reflects on the recent Seunghan Scandal in the Kpop industry. ( he was a member of a boyband riize, and got kicked out and people sent death wreaths to him because his photos of kissing his girlfriend got leaked) #riizeis7, let the celebs live a normal life please

·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ

liked by landonorris, aron.piper and 3,568,297 others

ynpapi did I just graduate high school at the age of 24!?

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user1 NETFLIX RELEASE IT

user2 can't wait to have a crush on everyone

manurios babygirl 👄

ynpapi aren't you like gay?

manurios babydick 😒

ynpapi your management will be calling you in another 2 mins

user3 I am also gay for you yn 😔

aron.piper oh god, you really took your spanish roots seriously

ynpapi bow down to your papi 👄🤭

aron.piper please don't be high on set

user4 I just follow her to see her friend group drama

landonorris Aron, Danna, please make sure my girlfriend doesn't die by flushing herself down the toilet

aron.piper got it boss 💪🏻

danna you don't even have to say it

mariapedraza even I exist!! I can also take care of her!

manurios you just took a bottle of vodka from my cupboard

liked by landonorris, alexandrasaintmieux and 3,987,267 others

ynpapi can't believe my f1 champion is 26

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georgerussell I think I skipped a century worth of f1

charlesleclerc when did this short kid become the champion?

carlossainz that too before me!?

francolapinto in a Williams? Highly unlikely

carlossainz you don't even have a seat kid

ynpapi STOP BULLYING MY LANDO AND I CAN SAY WHATEVER I WANT

ynpapi lando baby, I love you and they are just jealous of you

landonorris I love you

landonorris GOING TO ZAC

landonorris I AM SO WINNING THE WDC

liked by user1, user2, user3 and 452,937 others

hollywoodlife BREAKING! Y/N Expostio’s ex boyfriend ( non-celeb) has been arrested for leaking their private videos from when she was just 19. Y/N Expostio is currently dating F1 driver, Lando Norris.

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user1 that’s fucking sick

user2 SHE WAS 19!?

user3 if he wanted to ruin her career, he should have just blackmailed for money

user4 DOING ANYTHING TO RUIN A CAREER IS SICK !

user5 we love you y/n, stay strong 💪🏻

user6 I can’t imagine how tolling it must be for yn and lando

user7 but glad she got what she deserved, her fault for even making that video

user8 EXCUSE ME !?

user9 that’s just straight up bs

user10 PARDON HER FOR ENJOYING LIFE WITH HER BOYFRIEND !?

user11 now get her out of elite, didn’t like her acting anyways

user12 exactly! replace her !

liked by manurios, aron.piper and 2,267,176 others

ynexpostio with the recent speculations going on, I would like to announce that me and Lando have decided to take a break after 3 years. It was a mutual and amiable decision and I wish him all the best!

comments on the post have been turned off

liked by user1, user2, user3 and 345,388 others

f1wags BREAKING! Lando Norris revealed the reason of their break up with Y/N Expostio!

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user1 and you all are still hating on that poor girl !

user2 she literally sacrificed her love just so he doesn’t get any hate!

user3 but lando should have declined!

user4 like always they have posted half the stuff

user4 Lando said after that line that he didn’t want to do that but Y/N was struggling mentally and so he decided he to respect her desicion.

user5 I swear being a celebrity means living your life on the edge

user6 you know it's bad when she changes her username back to her own name 😭

user7 they have not broken up! they are on a break !

liked by landonorris, aron.piper and 1,376,346 others

ynexpostio my d1 ♥️

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liked by user1, user2, user3 and 538,368 others

f1wags Alexandra and Y/N were seen in the Ferrari paddock for the Mexican GP!

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user1 umm, she is going after Carlos now ?

user2 both Ferrari drivers are dating

user3 first a slut and then a cheater ?

user4 this lady is messed up

user5 YOU BREAK WITH LANDO FOR THIS !?

user6 can't even defend her anymore

user7 SHE IS FRIENDS WITH ALEX AND CHARLES! she can go there as a friend too !

user8 imagine her cheating with Charles

user9 READ THE DAMN NEWS, HER EX BOYFRIEND HAD ESCAPED POLICE CUSTODY AND WAS STALKING HER, ALEX AND CHARLES ARE HELPING HER !

user10 he better stay in jail for the next few centuries

liked by landonorris, aron.piper, charlesleclerc and 2,268,286 others

ynpapi break over, the movie resumes 🎬

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user1 SHE IS BACK !!

user2 WE LOVE YOU !!!

user3 don't scare us like that ever again

user4 what happened to the ex ?

user5 killed off from the movie

user6 he is in jail ☺️

tg: @sainzzreputaticn

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moonstruckme · 28 days ago

Note

Hi lovely! Can I have wolfstar (or either of the two boys, it’s up to you) with reader who is just not having the best time, but doesn’t like being comforted/taken care of (even though she rlly needs it once in a while) because she doesn’t like the feeling of not being totally independent if that makes sense-? Like, she feels if she gets help then that means she can’t manage stuff on her own, and she wants to be able to manage stuff on her own. But at the same time she needs comfort rn yk?

I swear the way you write wolfstar has me kicking my feet every time. I fucking love your writing! Bye bye and thank you 👋

Thank you for your request lovely! I adore them <3

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

Coming home and taking off your coat doesn’t hold the same relief as it used to lately. The weight of the day stays with you, coiled up around your ribcage like a snake that squeezes incrementally tighter every time you think of it. Still, it’s nice to come home to the smell of basil and the sound of Remus’ music playing from the kitchen.

You set your bag down, going to find your boyfriends but spotting a plate of brownies on the table. You slow looking at it, and Sirius meets you halfway. He kisses you hello and wraps you up in a hug.

“I’m so happy you’re home,” he murmurs conspiratorially. “Remus’ knee is hurting him, but he won’t say and he won’t get out of the kitchen. I need you to distract him.” You hum your assent, and he chuckles at your distraction, kissing beside your ear. “How was your day, beautiful?”

“Fine,” you say. “Are those brownies?”

“Yeah, Rem made them. The kind with the dark chocolate you like. Now, a real answer, please. How was your day?”

“Oh, it was…it was okay.”

Your voice sounds hesitant and melancholy even to your own ears. Sirius coos, hugging you tighter. He strokes up and down your spine, encouraging you to relax into him. “M’sorry, lovebug.”

You shrug him off when he starts to sway you gently, shoving down on the emotion that rises in your throat.

“Don’t be sorry,” you say, offering him a little smile. “It was fine.”

Still, Sirius looks sad. “Okay,” he says. “Why don’t you go put on something more comfortable, and I’ll make sure our lovely boy is ready for you when you come back.”

You huff a laugh. “Is that code?”

He grins wickedly. “It is if you want it to be, gorgeous. Go on.” He turns you by the shoulders towards your bedroom, giving you a pat to your bum. “Go. Remus,” he calls towards the kitchen, “our angel just told me she really wants a cuddle from you. Sounds like you should join her on the couch.”

It surprises you when Remus actually is waiting for you when you get back. He’s stretching his knee out, foot propped on the coffee table, but he smiles when he sees you.

“Hi,” you say, your own lips tilting as you sit beside him. “Did you make me brownies?”

“Well, I’d like to have at least one.” He takes your face in hand, kissing you with a grin on his lips. “But they’re mostly for you, yeah.”

“That was sweet of you.” You take his hand in yours. The pads of your fingers rove the lines of his palm. “Thank you, you didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to,” he says simply. His gaze is warm as he watches you, so knowing you have to look away.

“Did you leave Sirius in the kitchen?” He nods. “What’s he making?”

“Pasta for dinner. It’s nearly done.”

“I should help.” You start to get up, but Remus holds onto your hand.

“He’s got it, sweetheart. I wouldn’t normally trust him in the kitchen, but even Sirius can boil water.”

“I know, but—” You extricate your hand from his gently, making it up with a smile. “—you’ve been doing stuff in there all day. It’s my turn to help.”

Remus calls after you. Sirius must hear, because he apprehends you as soon as you enter the kitchen, keeping you from going further.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“Stop,” you laugh, pushing against his hands. “I want to help.”

“No one has any faith in me,” Sirius complains. “Remus has already done the hard work of chopping the basil and everything. I’m perfectly capable of boiling water.”

“That’s what I told her,” Remus defends himself from the living room.

You look behind Sirius for something that needs doing, but the collection of prepared ingredients gives you pause. You know this recipe. It’s your favorite pasta, your comfort food.

“Why am I cursed with beautiful, stubborn partners who won’t take a rest when they need it?” Sirius laments. Now that you’ve stopped resisting, he’s able to bully you out of the kitchen, back towards the living room.

“My knee doesn’t hurt,” you argue.

He levels you with a look. “No. But that’s not the only thing that could cause someone to need a rest, is it?”

You frown at him. The snake in your ribcage gives a malicious squeeze. “I’m fine. I don’t need to be coddled.”

Sirius’ expression softens. “Sweetheart…”

“No one is coddling you, lovely,” says Remus. “You’re going through a lot right now, and maybe you are fine, but it’s okay if you’re not, isn’t it?” He gives you a significant look. You press your lips together. “Either way, we only want to make things easier for you.”

“I appreciate it,” you say, voice growing softer, “but I don’t need you to. I can manage it myself.”

“Hey, who said you couldn’t?” Sirius asks. His eyebrows are bunched together, imploring. “You are managing it, gorgeous, and you’re doing a killer job. Really, it’s impressive, but we—”

“We can still be there for you at the same time,” Remus finishes.

You waver. Some of the playfulness comes back to Sirius’ expression. He cocks a brow at you.

“So,” he drawls, “if you can handle all that by your lonesome, I don’t want to hear any more complaints about me boiling water without supervision. Got it?”

You crack a grin. He mirrors it, giving you a shove so that you fall back onto the couch.

“Good,” he says, turning around and starting back for the kitchen. “Take a rest, you freaks. Let me handle dinner for once.”

“There’s a reason that doesn’t happen often,” Remus murmurs, drawing you into his side. He presses a kiss, soft and warm, to the bridge of your nose. “Are you going to be okay if your favorite pasta is al dente, lovely?”

You laugh quietly, and he smiles for hearing it. “Yeah, I think I’ll live.”

“Good. Because I’m afraid it’s all but guaranteed.”

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p0orbaby · 1 month ago

Text

Skeletons

summary: aitana has a secret that you’re reluctant to keep, but you do, because having her in private is better than not having her at all

warnings: angst, closeted relationship

a/n: inspired by this request ! fyi i’m not a massive fan of the ending so if you think it’s bad then your opinion is valid

word count: 4.9k

It’s been a long day, another day of tactical meetings and drills, the weight of another training session at Barça hanging heavy on your body. You sit beside Aitana in the lounge of her flat—everything pristine but minimal, almost impersonal, as if she's never spent enough time here to give it a real life. No personal touch to the decor, just basic furniture. A lamp that looks like it was picked because it was there and not because it meant anything. The kind of living space of someone who only ever comes home to sleep, or maybe to avoid something else. You think you know what that something else is, or maybe it’s just a suspicion that’s been gnawing at you for years, a quiet terror lodged deep in the center of you, almost as if it's waiting for something to happen. You’re pretty sure it's always been there.

You notice how she sits too close, legs curled beneath her on the sofa, leaning into you in that way she always does when she’s not really aware of it. Aitana’s always been like that—too close, too warm, her casual touches like a silent scream at the back of your mind—her fingers brushing your arm, her shoulder pressing lightly into yours, her laughter soft and private, like you’re the only one who could ever understand the joke, like she trusts you with something that’s too big for either of you to say out loud. It’s a proximity that drives you insane, but you’ve learned to live with it because there’s never been another option. Not really. Not when every look, every smile, every stupid moment of her being this…close keeps you on a knife's edge between bliss and misery.

She looks at you now with those eyes that you’ve memorised, those soft brown eyes that never stop searching, like she’s always trying to find the right words but can never quite get there. It’s a little terrifying, the way she looks at you sometimes. Like you’re the answer to something she hasn't quite plucked up the courage to ask yet.

“I’m glad you came over,” she says, her voice softer than usual, like she's thinking about something more serious but doesn't want to show it. Her hand is on your arm again, a casual thing, but it’s not casual, not to you. It hasn’t been casual for years.

You nod, biting back whatever sarcastic response you might’ve thrown out, because this—this moment feels like a delicate thread, as if one wrong move could break it. And you don’t want to break it. God, you don’t want to break it.

“Of course, I came over. You needed me, right?” you say, forcing a lightness into your voice that feels false, but you’re so used to this performance. It’s second nature. Being near her and pretending like it’s normal when your heart is pounding loud enough to deafen you.

“Yeah,” she says, but there’s something under that single word, something unsure. She leans back into the sofa cushions, and you feel the shift, the weight of her thigh brushing yours, your heart picking up speed even as you try to ignore it. You look at her, and she’s staring at the floor now, like she’s trying to figure something out but can’t bring herself to say it.

You’ve never been good with silence, not between the two of you, not when it feels like this, charged and dangerous, and you almost say something—anything—to break it, but she beats you to it.

“I’ve been thinking,” she says, her voice quiet, her gaze still on the floor. She shifts, her fingers tightening slightly on your arm, and your chest clenches, that familiar wave of something crashing over you. “About…stuff”

The vagueness of it should annoy you, but it doesn’t. Not when her voice sounds like this. Not when her whole body feels tense, like she’s holding something back.

“What kind of stuff?” you ask, keeping your tone casual, keeping the panic buried deep where it belongs. You can’t show it. You can’t let her see how much this is affecting you, how much every word out of her mouth feels like it could unravel you.

She finally looks up at you, and there’s something different in her eyes. Something you haven’t seen before, or maybe you’ve seen it a hundred times but you’ve never let yourself believe it could be real. Her gaze holds yours for a moment, and then she looks away again, biting her bottom lip like she’s nervous.

It’s not a look you see from Aitana often. She’s usually so sure of herself, so confident, even when she’s being quiet, even when she’s being thoughtful. But this—this feels different. She’s fidgeting now, her fingers tapping lightly against her knee, and you can’t help but watch her, trying to figure out what’s going on in her head, trying not to let yourself hope. Because hope is dangerous. Hope is a trap you’ve fallen into too many times, and every time you climb out of it, it feels like it just leaves you more bruised.

“There’s something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about,” she says, and her voice is so soft now, so fragile. It’s like she’s terrified of what she’s about to say, and that terrifies you because Aitana is never terrified.

You swallow hard, your mouth suddenly dry. “What’s up?” you ask, trying to sound calm, even though your heart is racing and there’s a knot forming in your stomach.

She hesitates for a moment, and then she reaches up, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, a nervous habit you’ve seen a thousand times but never thought much about until now, when everything about her feels heightened, like you’re seeing her for the first time all over again.

“I…” She stops, her voice faltering, and then she takes a deep breath, forcing the words out like they’ve been stuck inside her for too long. “I think I might like someone”

Your chest tightens. This is it. The moment you’ve always dreaded. The moment where she tells you about some guy—some random guy she’s fallen for, the guy she’s going to love the way you wish she would love you.

“Oh,” you say, and it comes out flat, empty. You don’t trust yourself to say anything else.

But she doesn’t look at you. Not yet. Her fingers are still tapping against her knee, her eyes still fixed somewhere just past your shoulder.

“It’s… weird,” she continues, her voice wavering, and now she’s biting her lip again, harder this time, and you can see the tension in her jaw. “Because I didn’t think I’d ever feel like this about…a girl”

Your heart stops. You freeze. Every part of you goes still as her words sink in, slow and heavy, like they’re not quite real. Like they can’t be real.

But she’s still talking, her voice shaky, her eyes finally meeting yours, and you can see the vulnerability there, the uncertainty, the fear that she’s saying something wrong, something that’s going to ruin everything. And suddenly you’re not breathing, not thinking, not doing anything except sitting there, staring at her, because what else can you do? What can you say when the thing you’ve wanted for so long is suddenly, inexplicably, in front of you?

“I don’t know what to do,” she whispers, and now her hand is resting on your arm again, her fingers brushing your skin in a way that feels deliberate, feels like more than just a casual touch.

And you—God, you don’t know what to do either. You don’t know how to breathe, how to think, how to process what’s happening. Because this—this moment—is something you’ve imagined a thousand times in your head, something you’ve dreamed about but never really believed would happen.

But it is happening. Right now. Right in front of you.

You blink, your throat tight, your mind a mess of thoughts that don’t make any sense, and she’s still looking at you, still waiting for you to say something, do something, anything. But you can’t. You can’t because you’re terrified that if you move, if you speak, if you do anything, this moment will shatter and you’ll wake up and it’ll all be gone.

So you sit there, frozen, staring at her, trying to understand how you got here, trying to understand what this means, trying to understand her—Aitana, your best friend, the girl you’ve been in love with for what feels like forever.

And she’s looking at you like she’s scared. Scared of what you’ll say, scared of what you’ll do. But more than that, she looks scared of herself, of what she’s feeling. You can see the uncertainty in her eyes, the way she’s still not sure if this is okay, if she’s okay, if liking you—wanting you—is something she’s allowed to want.

“I’m scared,” she says softly, and it breaks you because Aitana doesn’t get scared. She’s brave. She’s fearless. She’s everything you’ve always wanted to be. And now she’s sitting here, vulnerable and uncertain, and you don’t know how to help her because you’re still trying to figure out how to help yourself.

But then she looks at you again, her eyes searching yours, and something shifts. Something clicks into place. And before you can stop yourself, before you can think about what you’re doing, you reach out and take her hand, your fingers lacing with hers, warm and steady and real.

“I’m here,” you say, your voice quiet but firm. “I’m not going anywhere”

And for the first time in what feels like forever, she smiles, just a little. A small, tentative smile, but it’s enough. It’s everything.

It starts slowly, like all dangerous things do. A late-night text that pulls you back to her place after training, her fingertips brushing your hand on the walk back from the gym, a lingering glance that lasts just a second too long when she thinks no one’s paying attention. You both fall into it like gravity’s pulling you, and for a while, it’s enough. Enough to have her behind closed doors, enough to know that, at least in those quiet moments between just the two of you, she’s yours.

But it’s also nothing like what you’d imagined all those years, lying in your own bed staring at the ceiling, wondering what it’d be like to have her next to you for real. It’s not perfect—it can’t be, not when everything has to be hidden. You’re still her best friend in public, the girl she spends all her time with, the girl who knows her better than anyone else. But not the girl she kisses when the cameras aren’t flashing, not the girl she pulls close when no one’s looking.

Those moments belong only to the nights when her guard is down, when her walls crumble and she lets you in, just for a few hours. It’s messy, but you’ve always known it would be. Aitana is nothing if not a contradiction—so sure of herself on the pitch, so certain of what she wants when it comes to football, but with this—with you—she’s hesitant. Insecure, even, and it’s a side of her you’re still learning how to navigate.

It’s late one night after another exhausting match, and she’s already taken her shower, her hair damp against the pillow as you lie beside her. Her apartment smells faintly of eucalyptus from the diffuser she never turns off, and the air between you feels heavy, like it always does after sex. Like there’s something unsaid just hanging there, but neither of you is brave enough to say it.

She’s resting her head on your chest, one arm draped lazily across your stomach, her fingers tracing absent patterns against your skin. And for a moment, everything is perfect. Just her and you, tangled together in her too-big bed, your bodies sore but comfortable in the way that only comes with familiarity. You feel her breath against your neck, steady and soft, and you close your eyes, trying to commit every second of this to memory. These are the moments you live for now.

But then she speaks, her voice low and hesitant, and you know what’s coming before she even says it.

“You know we can’t tell anyone, right?” Her fingers stop moving, and she lifts her head to look at you, her expression unreadable in the dim light. “Not yet”

It’s not the first time she’s said it, and it won’t be the last. You’ve had this conversation before, too many times to count. But each time, it feels like a fresh wound, like she’s cutting into you all over again with that same blunt blade. You want to tell her that it hurts, that it tears you apart every time she introduces you to someone as “just a friend” or dodges questions about her love life in interviews, leaving you wondering what it would feel like to be acknowledged, even just once.

But you don’t say that. You won’t. Because you know she’s scared. Scared of what it means, scared of what people will say, scared of admitting to herself that she’s not the person she thought she was. And you love her too much to push her. So instead, you nod, keeping your voice steady even though your chest feels like it’s caving in.

“Yeah, I know”

She sighs in relief, dropping her head back to your chest, her body relaxing against yours again. And just like that, the conversation is over. She’s yours again—for now, at least.

But there are moments, moments when the secret feels too heavy, too suffocating, and you don’t know how long you can keep carrying it without cracking under the pressure. It happens one day after a game, when the whole team goes out to celebrate a win, and you’re sitting at the bar, nursing a beer and trying to keep your distance. Because that’s what you do now. You keep your distance. You stay just close enough to be there for her, but never close enough to make anyone suspicious.

Aitana’s across the room, talking with a group of teammates, laughing at something Alexia says, and for a second, it’s like she forgets you’re even there. She’s in her element, charming and confident, the version of herself you’ve always admired. And when someone asks her about dating—probably joking, probably not thinking twice about it—you watch her laugh it off, deflecting like she always does.

“No, I’m not seeing anyone,” she says, so casually, like it’s the easiest thing in the world. Like you don’t exist. Like the nights you’ve spent together, wrapped up in each other, mean nothing.

It hits you harder than it should. Harder than it ever has before. And you know it’s not fair to feel like this—it’s not fair to her, and it’s not fair to you. You knew what this was when you started, knew that it wasn’t going to be easy. But that doesn’t make it hurt any less.

You drain the rest of your beer, the bitterness burning your throat, and get up to leave before anyone notices. Before she notices. You can’t sit there and watch her laugh and flirt with other people, pretending like she’s not going to go home with you tonight. Pretending like she’s not yours.

When you’re halfway to the door, you feel her hand on your arm, and you stop, turning to face her. She looks up at you, her expression soft, her eyes wide and questioning.

“Where are you going?” she asks, her voice low enough that no one else can hear. “You’re not leaving, are you?”

“I’m tired,” you say, not bothering to hide the edge in your voice. “I think I’ll head home”

Aitana frowns, her hand still on your arm, like she’s not ready to let you go yet. Like she can feel the shift, the tension simmering just beneath the surface. “I thought we’d—”

“I know,” you cut her off, not wanting to hear it. Not wanting to hear her try to make this okay when it’s not. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

You pull away from her, walking out into the cool night air, your heart pounding in your chest. You need space. You need air. You need time to remember why you’re doing this, why you’re putting yourself through this, why you keep coming back to her even when it hurts.

And later, when you’re lying in your own bed, staring up at the ceiling again, you remind yourself of all the reasons why. The way she looks at you when no one’s watching. The way she holds you close at night, like she’s afraid you’ll disappear. The way she whispers your name in the dark, her voice soft and vulnerable in a way it never is around anyone else.

She’s worth it, you tell yourself. She’s worth the pain, the hiding, the pretending. Because you have her. Maybe not in the way you always dreamed, but you have her.

It’s an away game in Seville, the kind where the atmosphere is tense but electric, the city vibrating with the weight of the upcoming match. The hotel isn’t much, just another chain where the carpets smell faintly of stale cigarettes and overuse. You’re in one of those rooms that looks exactly the same as all the others, sterile and impersonal—off-white walls, a single window overlooking the car park, a television bolted to the wall like an afterthought. But right now, none of that matters.

Aitana’s there with you, her back pressed against the cheap headboard, her hair a tangled mess around her face. She’s just come out of the shower, skin still damp and smelling like hotel soap, and there’s something reckless in her eyes tonight, something unspoken simmering between you both. There’s always been that quiet, dangerous tension with her, like you’re both walking a line neither of you knows how to stay on.

You hadn’t planned for this. Maybe you never plan for it. It’s just a hunger that’s become second nature, something that overtakes you both when you’re alone together, something neither of you can resist. Her lips had found yours the moment the bathroom door clicked shut behind you, the match tomorrow the last thing on either of your minds. You’re supposed to be resting, supposed to be saving your energy for the game, but there’s always this with her, this fever that takes over when you’re in the same room.

It doesn’t take long before you’re pulling her close, her fingers digging into your back, her breath hot against your neck as you press her against the mattress. The room feels like it’s spinning, like it’s just you and her and nothing else matters. And the noise—God, you can’t help the sounds she makes when you touch her, the way she bites back a moan, then gives up, letting it out like a release of all the tension she’s been holding in. The bed creaks beneath you, too loud in the silence of the hotel, but neither of you care. It’s too late to care.

You lose track of time. You lose track of everything except the feel of her beneath you, the way her body responds to yours, the way she whispers your name like it’s the only word she knows. And for that stretch of time—however long it is—she’s yours, wholly and completely. There’s no team, no match, no world outside this room. It’s just her, and you, and the way she looks at you when she lets her guard down, when she lets herself need you.

But then there’s a knock at the wall, followed by a muffled voice that snaps you both back to reality. You freeze, still half-entangled with her, your breath ragged, your heart pounding.

“Oye! Quiet down in there!” someone yells through the wall. The voice is too familiar—Pina, or maybe Patri—it doesn’t matter who it is. The point is, they’ve heard. The walls are paper-thin, you realise, and you hadn’t exactly been discreet.

You scramble off her, untangling yourself from the sheets, and for a moment, the only sound is your own breathing, loud in the sudden silence. Aitana’s eyes are wide, her face flushed, her bare chest rising and falling rapidly, and you can see the panic starting to creep in. Not panic because they know—no, they don’t know who she is. Panic because they think it’s just another random hookup. Another girl you picked up on a whim.

There’s another knock, louder this time, more insistent. “We get it! You’ve got company,” someone calls, laughing now, their voice tinged with amusement. “Didn’t know you’d have a guest tonight”

You let out a breath, already slipping into the familiar role. The one where you play it off like this is nothing. Like this is just another night, just another girl. You’ve done it so many times before—it’s a routine at this point. The jokes, the teasing, the knowing looks from your teammates when they hear about another one of your so-called conquests. It’s all part of the act, the persona you’ve built to cover for what’s really going on.

You flash a quick smile at Aitana, hoping to reassure her, but the look she gives you is anything but reassured. It’s tight, like she’s barely holding it together. You ignore it for now, your mind racing for the right thing to say.

“Yeah, yeah, sorry about that,” you call back, trying to keep your voice light, casual, like you’re not lying through your teeth. “I’ll keep it down. Promise”

There’s more laughter from the other side of the wall, some muttered jokes about your reputation, about your ‘lucky night,’ but eventually it quiets down. They’re not going to press you. They never do. You’ve always been able to laugh it off, always been able to make it seem like none of it matters.

But when you turn back to Aitana, you see the way her eyes have gone dark, her face tight with something that looks like pain, like anger. She’s pulling the sheets up around her, suddenly closed off, like she’s trying to build a wall between you both.

“You okay?” you ask, your voice low, tentative. You reach for her, but she pulls away, sitting up straighter, wrapping the sheet tighter around herself.

There’s a heaviness to the air that wasn’t there before, a weight that settles between the two of you. It’s in the way she’s breathing—slow, measured—like she’s thinking too hard, like she’s bracing herself for something. You glance over at her, half-expecting her to meet your gaze with that teasing smile she always gives after moments like this, but her face is turned toward the ceiling, eyes wide and distant, her lips pressed into a thin line.

“Aitana?” you say softly, your voice barely cutting through the thick quiet. You can feel the tension in your chest start to coil, tight and uneasy.

She doesn’t respond right away, and when she finally does, her voice is quieter than you expect, almost tentative, like she’s not sure how to say what’s on her mind. “You didn’t have to do that,” she says, still staring up at the ceiling, her fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on the sheet.

You frown, sitting up a little, trying to make sense of what she means. “Do what?”

“Cover for me.” She says it so softly, like it’s a secret, like it’s something she’s ashamed of, but not in the way you’re used to. Not the shame of being found out. This is different, quieter, heavier. “I know why you did it, but… you didn’t have to”

You blink, thrown off for a second. “You mean… when they knocked on the wall?”

She nods, slowly, her eyes finally drifting from the ceiling to meet yours. There’s something in her eyes that makes your heart drop, something that feels like guilt, but not the kind that comes from getting caught. It’s the kind that lingers, the kind that’s been building for a while.

“I know it’s stupid,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper now, her fingers still moving in that absent way across the sheets, like she’s trying to distract herself from what she’s saying. “I know it’s just how it is. But… when you said that, when you acted like it was someone else, it just—it felt wrong”

You can feel your chest tighten, the words sinking in, slow and heavy. You want to tell her that you had to, that it’s how you’ve always handled it, that you were just trying to protect her. But the way she’s looking at you now, her eyes soft but resolute, makes you pause. She’s not angry. She’s not hurt, not the way you thought she might be. She’s just… sad. Sad that you feel like you need to keep pretending, like you need to keep covering for her.

“I didn’t think it’d bother you,” you say, and it sounds like an excuse as soon as it leaves your mouth, even though it’s the truth. You’ve done this so many times before, played it off like it’s nothing. It’s always been your way of protecting her, of protecting what the two of you have.

“I know you didn’t.” She sits up then, pulling her knees to her chest, resting her chin on them as she looks at you. Her hair falls over her face, messy and damp, and she brushes it aside absently, not really paying attention to it. “But that’s the thing. You shouldn’t have to. Not anymore”

There’s a beat of silence, the words hanging in the air between you. You sit up straighter, searching her face, trying to understand exactly what she’s saying. You’ve had this conversation before, or at least versions of it. But it’s never felt like this. It’s never felt like it’s this close to something real, something neither of you can take back.

“What do you mean?” you ask, your voice cautious, like you’re afraid to push her too far, to make her retreat behind that wall she’s so good at building.

Aitana lets out a slow breath, her eyes not leaving yours. “I mean… I’m tired of hiding. I’m tired of being a secret. And I’m tired of making you cover for me like you’re ashamed of what we have.” Her voice is steady, but there’s a vulnerability in it that catches you off guard, something raw and exposed. “I don’t want to do that to you anymore.”

You stare at her, your heart pounding, trying to make sense of what she’s saying. You’ve always been the one to take the fall, to laugh off the questions, to keep up the charade. You’ve always thought you were doing it for her—because she wasn’t ready, because she needed more time. But now, sitting here, looking at her, you realize that maybe you’ve been doing it for yourself too. Maybe you’ve been hiding just as much as she has, afraid of what it would mean to actually be out there, to actually be seen.

“Aitana…” you start, but she cuts you off, her voice soft but firm.

“I know it won’t be easy,” she says quickly, like she’s already thought this through a thousand times. “I know people will talk, and it’ll be… hard. But I don’t care anymore. I don’t want to hide us. I don’t want you to pretend like I’m just someone you picked up or some random girl in your bed. I’m more than that. I’ve always been more than that”

The words hit you harder than you expected, and for a second, you don’t know how to respond. You’ve spent so long keeping this part of you hidden, keeping this relationship in the shadows, that the idea of stepping out into the light feels… terrifying. But at the same time, hearing her say it, hearing her admit that she’s ready—that she wants to be open—it makes something inside you shift, something that feels like hope.

“Are you sure?” you ask, your voice quieter now, more careful. You don’t want to push her, don’t want to rush her into something she’s not ready for, even though every part of you is screaming to say yes, to finally stop hiding.

She nods, her eyes steady, her expression soft but sure. “I’m sure.” She reaches out then, her hand finding yours, her fingers threading through yours with a quiet certainty. “I don’t want to hide anymore. Not from them, not from anyone.”

You feel the weight of her words settle over you, and for the first time in a long time, it feels like you can breathe. Like the walls you’ve both built are finally starting to come down.

“I don’t want you to hide either,” you admit, the words coming out easier than you thought they would. And it’s true. You’re tired of pretending too, tired of covering for something that’s real, something that’s yours.

Aitana smiles then, a small, tentative smile, but there’s something bright behind it, something that makes your chest ache in the best possible way. She leans in, pressing her forehead to yours, her breath warm against your lips.

“So… I’ll tell them,” she whispers, her voice barely audible, but filled with a kind of quiet determination that makes you believe her.

“No,” you whisper back, your heart pounding, your hand tightening around hers. “We’ll tell them”

#aitana bonmati #aitana bonmati x reader #fcb femeni #fcb femeni x reader #espwnt #espwnt x reader #woso #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso community

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navybrat817 · 9 months ago

Note

How often does Dad!Bucky get hit on when he's in the baby aisle grabbing diapers?

A lot, Cia! And you get to see it one day.

The Dad Diaries: Diaper Aisle

Pairing: Dad!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: You witness a woman flirting with Bucky, but you don't react the way you expect. Word Count: Almost 1.2k Warnings: Fluff, flirting, reflecting, first time dad, slight feels (it's me), parenthood, random woman thirsty for Bucky (we get it), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning and a dad, okay?). A/N: Next part of The Dad Diaries and from your perspective. Hope you lovelies enjoy. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky doesn’t like to make a big deal out of people flirting with him. For starters, he’s a married man and has made it clear that he has no intention of ever stepping out on you. He would never. You are his wife and soulmate, the love of his life, and the mother of his child. You’re all he needs.

Second, he’s unassuming. You tell him regularly how handsome he is, but he isn’t arrogant about his looks and doesn’t think every woman who looks his way has the intention of hitting on him. He may give a polite smile or nod if he catches someone staring, but will immediately divert his attention back to the task at hand, such as getting those diapers for Jamie.

Fatherhood is sexy on him.

“Your Dada is amazing,” you say to Jamie as you wait beside your cart for Bucky to grab the box.

You smile to yourself when a woman nearly runs her cart into the shelving when Bucky walks past. Not that you blame her for staring. With his luscious locks flowing free, his worn jean jacket fitting like it was made for him, and the sweatpants leaving little to the imagination, you would’ve gawked at him, too.

Which you did earlier and were now.

“Excuse me,” the woman calls out loudly, making Bucky pause as he puts the box under his arm. “So sorry to bother you, but would you mind grabbing a jar for me off the top shelf? I would really appreciate it.”

“No problem,” he says, giving you a small smile from across the aisle as he goes to help the woman.

You wait patiently as the lady thanks him with a grin. You get why she wants Bucky close by. Beyond his overall gorgeousness and kindness, he displays a responsible side of himself when he walks through the baby aisle. He never carries himself in a way that says he’s annoyed or inconvenienced by being there. Carefully selecting the diapers and anything else needed shows how attentive he is. And responsible.

You understand the appeal.

Though, you do wish the lady would stop undressing your husband with her eyes. You practically hear her inhale when he’s close enough. He does smell good, but does she have to step into his space?

“This one?” Bucky asks.

The woman has to blink a few times before she responds. “Oh, sorry. The one next to it. You really are too kind,” she answers, sweeping her gaze over him from head to toe as he reaches over for another jar. You have to bite the inside of your cheek when she takes it from his hand. “It’s too bad you can’t help me bring this stuff in when I get home.”

Yeah, it is too bad.

Clearing his throat, Bucky nods in your direction. “Well, my son might miss me if I’m away for too long. And I’ll miss him and my wife.”

The woman goes rigid as she looks your way. “Your wife?”

Bucky smiles from ear to ear when you wave. “Yeah, my wife,” he proudly states, making your heart skip a beat.

Any jealousy or bad feeling you have slips away when you see some of the light leave the woman’s eyes and the sag in her shoulders. It’s almost like seeing her in a different light because you know how you’ve felt since giving birth. At times, you feel less attractive than normal, that your body won’t be the way it used to be. You wonder if Bucky still wants you.

And you want to be seen.

While you don’t know her story, you understand the need to feel wanted and desired. It doesn’t go away when you become a mother. You don’t even know if she is a mother or if she’s in the aisle shopping for a sister, friend, or someone else. Maybe her partner isn’t giving her the attention she needs. Maybe she isn’t with anyone.

Maybe she just needed a win today.

“Take care,” Bucky says politely before he walks toward you, leaving the woman alone to stare after him. “Anything else we need?” He asks once he puts the diapers on the bottom of the cart, giving Jamie a small tickle and making all three of you smile.

“I think we’re good,” you say, glancing down the aisle. You could grab Bucky’s hand and stake your claim as the woman makes eye contact with you, but you give her a small nod and a sympathetic smile instead before you push the cart away. “That was nice of you to help her,” you say once you’re out of sight.

Bucky raises an eyebrow as he glances your way. “I don’t usually say this outright, but I’m pretty sure she was hitting on me.”

“Oh, she was,” you agree.

“Does that bother you?” He asks, brushing a kiss to your temple and making your heart race.

You shake your head as you think about it. “It did at first because it’s only natural to feel that way, but it went away pretty quickly. I have no reason to feel jealous or defensive. If it would’ve been bad or crossed a line, I would’ve stepped in. But you proudly proclaimed that I’m your wife and she backed off right away. And I know you’re coming home with Jamie and I, so why would I let it bother me?” you explain, spotting something soft in his gaze.

Like he’s amazed by you.

“That makes sense,” he says.

“I can only hope that someone like you comes along for her,” you add, your heart going out to the stranger.

The blue of Bucky’s eyes shine a bit brighter when you catch his gaze. “I love you,” he says so tenderly that you feel butterflies in your stomach and heart.

“I love you, too,” you promise before you nudge him. “And you know what? I don’t fault her at all. You know what wearing those pants does to people. It’s like some sort of sexy magic.”

His nose crinkles as he laughs, the sound making a few turn their heads. Once again, you don’t blame them for gawking. “Did you just say ‘sexy magic’ in front of our son? Is that why you like these pants?”

“Oh, yeah. You put a spell on me,” you smirk before you smile gently at your son. “And I’m very lucky for that because now I have you.”

You don’t know it yet, but Bucky will write in his diary to Jamie about how you handled yourself today. How you could’ve stormed over and grabbed him or made a snide comment to the woman, but you didn’t. And that if you felt jealous, even for a moment, you didn’t let it cloud your judgement. You know when to observe and when you need to step in. You know when to lead with your heart.

Just one of the many reasons Bucky Barnes considers himself lucky to call you his wife and the mother of his child.

And no matter how many times he gets hit on in the diaper aisle, he’ll always come home to you.

I adore this family. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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stevieschrodinger · 4 months ago

Text

Part One Two Three four

Steve’s eating a bowl of cereal, squinting in the morning light. He’s barefoot, wearing nothing but sleep shorts, and is considering going back to bed. He shouldn’t though; he has to be on time today.

Since the mall burned down, Scoops Ahoy is, annoyingly, no more. Robin thinks she has something though, some guy at Family Video who probably has the hots for her or something. Doesn’t matter though, Steve doesn’t really care what this Keith guys motivation is as long as it results in gainful employment for the both of them.

He really should shower.

Steve can see the pool from here, so he’s in a prime position to watch as Eddie pulls himself out of the water and makes his way to the back door.

This is the second time Eddie has come into the house, if you don’t count the emergency temporary over nighter in the bath tub. Well, it’s the second time Eddie has brought himself into the house, at least.

He waits patiently at the back door, like a cat waiting to be let in, and Steve opens the door for him, cereal bowl still balanced in the other hand.

He holds himself in that same way, flat of his tail curled up beneath him, giving him a little height, and he sits himself uncertainly in the middle of the kitchen floor, “hi Eddie.”

“Stee. Buddidy”

Steve gets him some celery from the bottom of the fridge and gives him the whole thing. They stand, and sit, together in comfortable silence, crunching their way through their respective breakfasts.

Steve watches as Eddie cautiously makes his way to the fridge once he’s done, looking to Steve with his his hand on the door, a question on his face, Steve nods, “yeah.”

Eddie opens the door, and Steve watches as he explores, carefully moving jars and condiments and stuff around, glass clinking quietly, before he opens the drawer at the bottom and pulls out a pear, carefully closing the drawer and door again after. He eats the whole thing, stalk, core, seeds, everything.

Steve washes up his dish, checking the time, “want to watch some TV?”

Eddie cocks his head, but follows Steve into the lounge. He sits, looking around, feeling the carpet under his hands, running his nails carefully through the pile until the TV catches his attention.

He moves closer. And then closer again, making Steve laugh when he taps a nail on the curved glass of the screen.

“I’m going to go shower, you shouldn't sit so close, it’s bad for your eyes.”

Robin does her make up in the car on the way over to Family Video, “how’s Eddie?”

“I’m fine, thanks for asking, it really means a lot to me, how much you care about my well being.”

She sighs through her nose and rolls her eyes, and Steve tuts at her.

“He came in the house this morning, I left him watching TV.”

“Huh. I mean normally I would say it’ll rot his brain but, something for him to do would be good, right?”

“Yeah. And if I’m getting a job, we should try and teach him to use the walkie’s at least. In case there’s like an emergency or something.”

“A fruit and veg related emergency.”

“Yeah, kind of. We really need to figure out what to do with him, he can’t just sit in my pool forever.”

She hums in agreement.

It’s just starting to rain when Steve gets home, the first break in the nearly two weeks of sunny weather they’ve been having.

Probably won’t be sharing a beer with Eddie tonight then. Well, Steve hasn’t really been sharing, he’s been letting Eddie steal the last third of a bottle, which isn’t really the same thing.

Eddie’s actually sitting on on the couch when Steve gets in, which surprises him momentarily. There’s an empty container on the cushion next to him, Steve figures he found the grapes.

“Hey.”

Eddie turns to see him, smiling, clearly pleased to see him, which is a nice change of pace. Sure he knows Robin loves him, but she’s never actually openly really happy to see him unless she’s, like, drunk or high. And the kids. Steve knows they must at least kind of like him, but they’re all just little shits. Having someone to come home to who is genuinely pleased to see him is a really nice change of pace.

“It just started raining.”

“Raiiniing.”

“Yeah,” Steve points at the window, “uhm, wet. Uhm. Sky wet.”

“Et.”

“Yeah.”

Eddie’s eyes widen suddenly, scrabbling off the couch in clear panic, “Et! Et!”

“Yeah Buddy, what’s wrong-”

Eddie’s frantically slithering across the lounge carpet with what is a truly amazing turn of speed considering his anatomy, “et inied! Book! NO! NO!”

“Oh, shit! Your book,” Steve hops over Eddie’s tail, making it to the door and then sprinting across the grass, grabbing the book and bringing it back.

Eddie’s sitting in the door way, hands clasped together, watching anxiously, “it’s not so bad, just a little damp.” Steve holds the book out to show him where drops of rain have speckled the pages, “it’s not bad.”

“Not bad. Good,” but he’s still frowning, clearly concerned where the paper is discolored by the water.

“Wait,” Eddie does as he’s told as Steve runs upstairs for the hair dryer, plugging it in in the lounge and sitting on the floor, Eddie joining him with the book. “Here, feel,” he turns it on, pointing it Eddie’s way.

Eddie sticks his fingers towards it, and then pulls the back, startled. Then he does it again before watching Steve dry the pages of the book, “dry. Et inied.”

“That’s right buddy.”

“Stee Edidie budidy.”

“That’s right. Yeah.”

Eddie sits next to Steve watching nervously as Steve gets the final pages dried off, and Steve hands the book back.

Eddie grins, “thanks Birdidie,” and then darts forward to press his lips to Steve’s cheek. It's just a press, not a real kiss.

“Oh,” and then Steve chuckles when he realizes what’s happened, the behavior that Eddie's seen and is now mimicking, “no. Uhm. Thank you Steve.”

Eddie cocks his head.

“Wait, wait,” Steve takes the hair dryer with him, heading up the stairs again, and this time coming back with a handful of Polaroids, he shuffles them into a neat stack, sitting next to Eddie on the floor. “Right, this is Robin. Birdie.”

“Thanks Birdidie.”

“Yeah, that’s right, that’s Birdie, now,” Steve shuffles through, “Max,” he says pointing, “and El.”

“El. Max.”

It’s thirty minutes and two pears later, but Eddie seems to be able to identify everyone reliably from their photographs, “no, Dustin.”

“Dust bin,” Eddie replies, confidently.

“You know what, sure, dust bin. Let’s go with that. Kind of suits him, actually.”

Steve’s drinking his evening beer. The weather much better again today, but the evenings are drawing in, and the sun set has almost taken Steve by surprise with how early it’s painting the sky pink. Summer’s coming to a close. Which brings some urgency to the question; what are they going to do with Eddie? The pool isn’t heated, and it usually gets drained and covered for the winter months. It’ll definitely freeze over at some point if they leave it open like this, and there’s no way Eddie could survive that, could he?

Steve doesn’t know. There’s just too much they don’t know about Eddie.

Steve’s got his first shift at Family Video tomorrow, a closing shift with the manager, Keith. Apparently he wants to show Steve the ropes when it comes to shutting down the store; Steve figures just from that that he’s going to be stuck with more than his fair share of late shifts.

He wonders if Eddie’s going to miss his evening beer. He really should teach Eddie to use a walkie. Tomorrow, he decides, will be as good a time as any. Tomorrow morning, and then Steve can leave one with Eddie and take one to work with him.

At least he knows Eddie can get into the house if he really has to, if he gets hungry or whatever. He really could do with some sort of cover out here though. Some where to leave his book in case of the rain. Maybe put a couple of towels in there, some food in the cool box when Steve’s out, the walkie, that sort of stuff.

Eddie swims over, pushing his floating toy bucket along ahead of him in the water. There are things in it tonight, which is a first. Eddie puts his bucket on the side of the pool before pulling himself out to sit beside Steve.

He pulls something out of his bucket to show to Steve, “oh, it’s a pine cone. Hold on.” Steve puts his beer down to grab the encyclopedia, and Eddie duly swipes it. Steve flicks through the book wile Eddie sips the beer, “look, this is a tree.”

“Tee.”

“Tree.”

“Trrreeee.”

“Yeah, it’s a seed for a tree,” Steve shows Eddie the series of pictures, how the seed underground grows a little shoot that grows, eventually, into a tree.

Eddie fetches something else from his bucket, showing Steve, “trree?”

“Leaf,” Steve points at the leaf in Eddie’s hand, then, “tree,” as he points to the tree line at the bottom edge of the yard.

Eddie’s frowning at the page in the book, but he does nod, so Steve doesn’t push it any further.

“Steve do you know how early it is.”

“I know, but I don’t care, do you still have that tent you were playing around with last summer?”

“Camping, Steve, I went camping with-what do you want it for, anyway?”

“It’s for Eddie.”

“Oh, yeah,” Dustin’s tone changes to immediately helpful, “yeah, do you want to come and get it? I’m pretty sure I still have it-MAAAAA! MAAAAAAA DO YOU KNOW-”

Steve pulls the receiver away from his head while Dustin's hollering at his poor mother.

“Yeah, we know where it is, you coming now?”

Eddie’s holding a piece of plastic tubing, looking concerned, and watching Steve struggle with the worlds smallest two man tent, “it’s okay, I got this.”

Eddie tilts his head one way and then the other, like a curious bird, as Steve struggles. It takes a couple of failed attempts, not helped by the fact that Dustin couldn’t find the instructions, but it doesn’t take that long before the tent is ready. Steve sets it on the grass, the doorway edge butted up against the tiles that surround the pool edge. Steve fixes the guy ropes using metal tent pegs driven into the lawn. It’s not hugely spacious inside, just big enough to accommodate two medium sized dudes when lying down, just as long as those two medium sized dudes are super comfortable with each other, then it’s fine.

Steve goes backward and forward, lining the bottom with a couple of sleeping mats he also borrowed from Dustin, and then putting in a couple of towels, Eddie’s book, and rescuing the Rubik's cube and slinkie from where they've lain, ignored, on the side of the pool, “there, what do you think?”

Eddie moves closer, cautiously looking inside before looking back to Steve, “yeah, good. Go in, it's okay,” Steve nods and smiles and generally tries to be encouraging.

Eddie goes inside before turning to look out, sitting on his tail.

Steve sits in the doorway, “it’ll keep your book dry.”

Eddie ponders that a moment, touching his book, before looking up. He carefully touches the inside of the tent roof, “et inied?”

“Yeah buddy, that’s right. Good.”

Part six

#eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie #ficlet #ao3 author #pre steddie #mermeddie #mermaid eddie #upside down creature eddie #Fish Guy Eddie

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flippinpancakes64 · 3 months ago

Note

Hello! I love your stuff and I wanted to request their response to:

Reader: Let me take care of you.

Them: It's rotten work...

Reader: Not to me...not if it's you.

Keep writing! You're amazing! (And I need something to read while I stay up)

Taking care of the Cullens

Ok ngl this ask has me giggling and kicking my feet

Jasper let me take care of you 😡😭❤️

Uhm and remember in my request rules thing where I said I don’t do narratives… i might be a big fat liar cause that’s what I did here… don’t come for me

And thank you so much for the kind words! Thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy!

Edward:

We all know he has a bit of a complex when it comes to his worth and his humanity

He tends to get in his own head a lot

Especially when it comes to you and your relationship

He doesn’t really get jealous in the normal sense

He just sort of gets sad when he sees you with other people

It’s one day after school and Edward seems to be avoiding you. You’re sitting at the table with Emmett, Alice, Esme, and Jasper playing a card game.

Only Edward is nowhere to be found.

The game finishes, Alice winning and Emmett immediately going into ranting mode about how it’s rigged. You excuse yourself to go check on him.

You find him upstairs in the piano room, plunking away on the keys mindlessly. If he wasn’t a vampire and you didn’t know better, you would say he didn’t even notice you enter the room.

You stood behind him for a while, watching as his fingers danced over the ivory keys.

“It sounds beautiful” you say.

He doesn’t respond.

“Edward, what’s the matter? You’ve hardly spoken to me all day.”

“Do you ever wish I was human?”

The question catches you off guard.

“To wish for you to be human would be to change you, and I happen to love you just the way you are.”

He huffs, his fingers halting.

“But don’t you wish I was warm? Don’t you wish I could eat the foods you like, actually sleep next to you at night, grow old with you?”

You sit down next to him at the stool and take his hands in your own.

“What were you like when you were human?”

The change of subject seems to catch him off guard, his face twists slightly as he thinks. He pauses for a beat before answering.

“I was a bit of a troublemaker. My mom always said I was giving her grey hairs way too early. I didn’t do any of my schoolwork, I just wanted to go and be free.”

“Hm, sounds like the you that could sleep, eat, and grow old was a bit of a wild card. Not really my type. You know I prefer the sophisticated, musical type.”

He laughs at that, hanging his head down to press a kiss to your joined hands.

“So what you’re saying is you like the version of me without a soul better,” he says bitterly. You frown at that.

“No, I’m saying I like the you that I have now. I love you, Edward. I would never trade you for anyone else in the world whether they have a pulse or not.”

He’s quiet for a moment.

“You know this is how it will always be, right? I’ll always be here, trying some new way to push you away from me. To make you realize that you deserve better.”

“And I’ll always be here to take care of you and make sure you know that my mind will never change.”

“Taking care of me for the rest of your life… talk about the worst job you could get.”

“Only it won’t be a job. Not for me. Not when it’s for you.”

He looks at you then, finally. His big, black eyes staring into yours.

You’ve wished it before, but in this moment you wish you were the one who could read his mind instead of the other way around.

“You’re so stupid,” he smiles, and leans in for a kiss.

Maybe one day he’ll fully believe you.

Alice:

Alice has a tendency to shut down whenever there’s too much going on

Too many people are on the cusp of making decisions that could change their lives

It seems that every person she meets on the street has a vision attached

She can’t take it anymore

You find her curled up in a ball in her room, the TV playing a program you don’t think she’s watching.

Around her are scattered sketchbook pages, each one hastily ripped from the pad and thrown to the floor.

On these pages are drawings of buildings, people, animals, and tragedies. You catch the face of a woman who’s screaming as a bullet heads straight for her face. In another is an open room with a small grenade in the center.

No wonder she’s been so upset.

None of the pages show joy, every single one a warning of a disaster that’s just waiting to happen.

In front of her, there’s a stack of drawings that she’s flipping through. On one of them you catch what looks like your face, only it’s contorted in a scream. In another you see Jasper, but you can’t make out what’s around him.

“Alice,” you call out, and her head whips up. Maybe she hadn’t heard you like you thought she did. “What’s wrong?”

She looks at you like a deer in headlights for a moment, before her eyes glance back down to the papers in front of her.

“There’s nothing wrong. Not yet, at least.”

Her tone is grave. You can hear the desperation for an answer, or at least a break.

You sigh, and move to sit next to her. You reach to take the stack of papers from her, meeting no resistance. If she wanted to keep them from you, she could. But she knew now that fighting you was always going to be useless.

“Alice, I know you can’t control the fact that you see these visions. But you can control how much you obsess over them. This isn’t healthy.”

“I don’t need to be healthy. I can’t die or get sick.”

You sigh again. “That’s not what I mean and you know it. You can’t keep withering away in here obsessing over what might happen.”

“But-“

“No buts.” You say, throwing the stack of papers to the side. “How long ago did you have these visions?”

She thinks for a moment.

“Yesterday, I think.”

“Alright. Have they happened yet?”

“Well, no…”

“From what you saw, are they still a possibility now?”

“…they are… a very low possibility…”

You could see her reluctantly piecing together your words, clearly not wanting to admit her mistake out loud.

“Look, Alice, you know that I’m always touched by you looking out for me, but in moments like this I need to look out for you too.”

She looks into your eyes, then hangs her head again.

“But that’s not how it’s supposed to be. My gift, I should be the one taking care of you-“

“No. There is no ‘supposed to’ anything. Humans aren’t ‘supposed to’ be with vampires and yet here we are. So please just come with me and watch a movie or cuddle or something?”

She looks at you again, then. Staring into your eyes, then glancing around her room, at all of the papers, then back to you. She smiles slightly and floats up to her feet.

“Fine. But I’m picking the movie.”

Jasper:

This is a man who needs some serious love and reassurance

He’s always on edge around you, even if he plays it off like he isn’t

He’s just always so scared of hurting you or doing something wrong

And a lot of the time that manifests as him isolating himself to try and get you to leave him

It was gonna be one of those nights again.

A night that you would spend alone in the bed you were supposed to be sharing with the love of your life, Jasper.

But no. On a night like this, he’s out in the woods, far, far away. Stewing in his feelings and brooding.

You don’t even remember anything happening this time. Sometimes something can set him off; a jab from someone at school, a hug he gave you that ended up being WAY too tight, anything really. Anything that reminds him of how he’s not supposed to be with you.

But right about now, you’re sick of it.

The Cullens have taken to being quieter at night since you’ve started sleeping over a lot more, but you know they’re all here- all except for the one you want.

So it being 2 am won’t bother any of the other residents of the house. You roll out of bed and march your way over to the door, throwing it open (politely) and stomping down the steps.

Emmett is the first one you see, and you decide he’ll be perfect for the job anyway.

“What’s got you going, firecracker?” He asks.

“I need you to go find Jasper and bring him to me. Now. I need to talk to him,” you couldn’t help the anger and frustration that seeped into your voice. Lack of sleep will do that to you.

Emmett stood up straight and gave a stupid salute, “One loner coming right up, boss.”

And with that he was out of the door, and you trudged back upstairs to wait for your boyfriend.

You were laying in the bed, still trying desperately to go to sleep when you heard a light knock on the door. Your eyes flicked open to see Jasper standing in the doorway, looking completely out of place and uncomfortable.

All of your anger left instantly, all you saw was the sweet man who was far too worried for his own good.

You sighed and scooted over, patting the spot next to you.

“Come here, Jasper.”

A look of what could only be described as fear flashed across his face before he shook his head and muttered a small, “i can’t.”

You sighed again and stood up, making your way over to him. When you reached him, you stretched your arms out to take his face in your hands, his eyes wouldn’t meet yours.

“Look, Jas, I don’t know what you’re thinking, but I have a pretty damn good idea. You’re not gonna hurt me.”

“You don’t know that,” he says, looking into your eyes, something about the black made him look more human, more scared. “Vampires are already dangerous, but I’m the worst of the worst. You’ve found yourself a faulty cannon amongst rifles, darling.”

You frowned at his analogy, squeezing his perfect face in your hands.

“You are NOT faulty, you hear me? You are perfect. Perfect for me, at least.”

“The perfect man for you wouldn’t be tearing himself up inside trying not to kill you.”

“And a lesser man would have already done it.” He was shocked at that, stunned into silence. He hung his head slightly, not meeting your eyes once more.

“And what if I do hurt you one day? Would you ever forgive me? Could I ever forgive myself?”

“I don’t think you will. But if you do, Carlisle will put me back together and I’ll jump right back into your arms.”

His eyes bore into your soul as he stared at you like you were crazy.

“Why the hell would you do that? Come running right back to me?”

“To make sure you don’t hate yourself for too long. Now come on, I’m tired and I can’t sleep without my personal AC unit.”

He looked at you with disbelief. You knew he didn’t believe you, you don’t know if he ever will.

But that’s okay. You’ll keep him right here, and pull him back to you every time he runs away.

Eventually, he’ll understand that you love him.

Rosalie:

The topic of kids has always been a very touchy one for Rosalie

It’s all she’s ever wanted, and all that she still wants

Most days, the pain is not too much of an issue

But some days, it just gets to be too much

You and Rosalie were walking down the street, hand in hand as you strolled by the different shops and food stands.

The city was busy today, many young couples out and about, shopping, talking, kissing far too passionately to be in public, the usual.

“Rose, do you mind if we sit down for a bit? These shoes Alice chose for me look really nice, but they are so uncomfortable.”

She giggled, but nodded and led you both to a bench. You sat down with a heavy sigh, finally getting off of your feet after what felt like forever (even though it was only about an hour).

Across the way in the little park you’ve both found yourself in, a young couple is sitting on a bench.

The woman has long, flowing, blonde hair that frames her face in loose curls. She’s wearing a gorgeous floral-patterned dress, and on her left hand is quite possibly the biggest, gaudiest ring you have ever seen.

To her right, a man sits, one who bears a striking resemblance to you, regardless of gender.

And in the middle, a little baby. A perfect mix of the two, her hair and his eyes, her nose and his jawline, all swaddled in a cute little onesie.

You’re about to turn to Rosalie to point out the cute baby (she always loves to look and maybe go touch it if the parents allow her to) when you see that she’s already looking.

Her face is grave, like she’s looking at her own headstone. Her face is twisted in grief, and she looks on the verge of tears.

It takes you a second to connect the dots, but once you do, your heart clenches for her.

That woman looks like her, reminds Rosalie of herself. And the man looks like you. And that baby is what she wants, all she’s ever wanted. What she can’t have.

Babies are always hard for her, but this struck a deep chord.

“Rose… do you wanna go home?” You ask softly, not wanting to come off as pushy.

“…”

“Come on, let’s go,” you grab her arm to pull her up, she goes with you, but keeps her head craned back to the young couple the whole time.

Once you’re far away, she breaks down. You’ve never seen a vampire cry, and that’s probably because they can’t. But if they could, Rosalie would be sobbing.

You know it’s bad because she doesn’t even care that she falls to the floor in this dirty, nasty alleyway. Normal Rosalie would rather die 100 times over than get her clothes dirty, especially here.

You sit down next to her, letting her dry heave and gasp into your shoulder, her wails breaking your heart.

You’re helpless here. Cause what can you really do? You can’t give her a kid, she can’t give you one either. You can’t go back in time and stop her from being killed. And you can’t go back and steal that baby from that couple (even though you kind of really want to).

So you just hold her.

You run her hair, pat her back, kiss her head, and whisper into her ear. How much you love her, how she’s perfect, how it’s okay, how you don’t think less of her.

Once she’s calmed down and her breathing has slowed, she looks up at you.

“I’m so sorry. You shouldn’t be seeing this side of me.”

“What? I want to be here for you, Rose. I know I can’t fix this for you, but at least I can-“

“Fix it? Darling, don’t worry about fixing me. I’m already completely broken, there’s nothing to fix.”

With that you just take a moment to look at her. Her face screams that she is broken. In her soul, at least. Her and Edward are a lot more similar than they like to think.

“Rosalie. You are not broken. There is nothing wrong with you.”

She scoffs at that. “I’m not human. I’d say that’s pretty wrong. Not to mention the fact that I can’t even look at a couple with a baby and not want to violently kill someone.”

“And that’s okay.”

She scoffs again.

“No, really, Rose. I mean it. I’m never ever going to think less of you for something like this. You went through something I can never even imagine and now you’re left to pick up the pieces. Just let me help you.”

She looks at you, her eyes staring into yours. The grief that she’s feeling is evident. But deep in her eyes, you see a touch of something else. Trust, maybe.

“You know, you’re gonna be picking up pieces for the rest of your life.”

“That’s okay, I don’t mind. Not if it’s you.”

Emmett:

He likes to pretend to be all big and bad all of the time

But in reality, he's still a person

He just has a hard time remembering that sometimes

You don't know where he got all of that energy from.

I mean, realistically, you know that he can never get tired.

But really, even for a vampire this was unnatural.

Some nobody in school had challenged him to an arm wrestle. Of course, he can never resist. He grabbed the guy's hand and prepared to pummel him, only to flinch and have his hand thrown down against the wood of the desk.

The guy had one of those fake shock things in his hand, and as soon as Emmett clamped down it vibrated like crazy.

To say he was pissed would be an understatement.

And now he was taking all of that anger out on the trees around the Cullen house.

"That-" punch "fucking-" punch "ASSHOLE!" punch punch punch

It had been days. And you were honestly getting worried. He hadn't hunted in those days, much less came inside the house. You're surprised the park ranger hasn't come knocking yet.

You heard a hollowed cracking sound and looked to see Emmett standing triumphantly as a rather large oak tree fell to the ground, followed by a guttural roar from the man.

"Emmett," you called, barely above a whisper. But you know he heard you. "Come over here please."

He looks at you with a slightly guilty look, the anger from before fading away as he hangs his head and trudges over to you. He stops just a few feet in front of you, lamely kicking the rocks beneath his toes as he avoids your eyes.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s that stupid fucking guy-“

“No,” you stop him, putting your hand up to silence him. “What’s actually wrong? Don’t tell me you’re seriously this pissed about losing an arm wrestling match with some nobody.”

He just stood there in silence for a second. You took this chance to stand up and grab his face in your hands, instantly he leaned in, perching his head on your palms.

“I just… need to be strong. That’s what I am, I need to be strong,” he whispered, his voice coming out shy and meek.

You just smiled at him sadly and rubbed his cheek.

“I can be strong too you know. So every once in a while you can let me take care of you instead.”

He laughed at that.

“You, strong? As if. I could fold you in half!”

You punched him lightly in the arm.

“You jerk! I’m trying to be sentimental!”

He laughed again and grabbed your hands, bringing them back up to their previous spot cradling his face.

“Ok ok, serious sentimental time.”

You just laughed and kissed him.

Esme:

She has a bad habit of overreacting

Just a dash of anxiety

So when something-anything happens to you, she freaks out

This is bad.

Like really, really bad.

You were supposed to be driving to go see Esme at the Cullen house, but of course your piece-of-shit car decided that now would be a perfect time to break down.

Too far away from home to walk back, too far away from the Cullens to walk there, and the nearest anything was also too far.

Not to mention the snow covering the ground didn’t really entice you to get out of your still-warm car.

So you tried calling someone to come get you.

Only, of course there’s no service out here because why would there be.

Just your luck.

You weigh your options, and decide that walking is just gonna have to do.

You didn’t pack a winter coat because you didn’t think you’d be outside for this long, but you had a blanket stored in your backseat and it was better than nothing.

So off you trekked through the freezing cold winter storm to the Cullen house.

Inside, Esme was (in)patiently waiting.

Your favorite meal was waiting for you, already plated and getting colder by the second on the dining room table.

You said you were on your way 30 minutes ago. It takes about 30 minutes to get from your house to their house.

So where were you?

Her ears perked at the sound of a slowly beating heart coming from down the driveway.

It didn’t sound like one of the foxes or deer that roam around this time of year. No, it sounded a bit bigger, a bit more human.

She was out the door in a flash. Before anyone had the chance to ask what she was doing she was by your side.

“Oh my god, honey, why are you out here?!”

“An angel…” and then you collapsed.

Cue Esme absolutely freaking the fuck out.

She has you in front of a lit fireplace, a heating blanket rested over your shoulders and a warm towel on your head.

She’s pacing back and forth in front of you. She wants to hold you so bad, to kiss you, cuddle you, protect you. But she can’t. She’ll just make the shivers wracking your body even worse.

“Es…” you croak, your eyes blinking open finally.

“Oh my god! Are you okay? How are you feeling? Why were you out there? Where’s your car? Why didn’t you call me?”

“Shhhh,” you whisper, bringing your finger up to shush her. “Just come here.”

You open up your blanket in an invitation to her.

“Are you out of your mind? I can’t cuddle with you right now, I’ll freeze you!”

“Please, you deserve to be taken care of too.”

She crumbles at that, you can see the resolve leaving her face. And then she figures that you won’t get too cold with the heated blanket and everything.

She cuddles up next to you, wrapping her arms around your waist and ducking her head into your neck.

“I’m so sorry, I should have been there. And least of all I shouldn’t be such a mess right now.”

“It’s okay to be a mess, I’ll always be here to hold you.”

Carlisle:

No one really talks about the stress of being a pretend father for a bunch of eternal teenagers

Really, it’s a blessing that he doesn’t need sleep and isn’t affected by long hours

But despite that, he still gets so worn out

Today had been a long day for Carlisle.

It was student-teacher conference day. And while that’s not usually an issue since he always tells the kids to behave, Emmett decided it was necessary to punch a kid last week.

To be honest, Carlisle didn’t really care if the kid was a bully or not, all he viewed it as was something more drawing attention to them.

On top of that, the cattiness between Edward and Rosalie seemed to be especially bad today.

They were at each other’s throats for the better part of the day, and nothing would get them to separate.

At work, at least a dozen new patients showed up. A factory that was close by had a gas leak, very minor. None of the people were harmed at all, but many still insisted on going to the clinic.

Carlisle’s not one to discourage people from getting checked out, but he is one to tell people to go home when they’re fine, which everyone was.

But these people kept insisting something was wrong. A boy with a broken arm had to wait for three hours for a room to open up because the factory workers refused to leave.

By the time he got home, he was exhausted, you could tell. His eyes were heavy, as were his footsteps. His hair was disheveled, he had clearly been running his fingers through it all day from the stress.

He looked like a mess. But even then, he greeted you with a smile and a kiss on the cheek.

He always takes such good care of you, whether you’re sick or not, he’s always there with whatever you want.

Now it’s your turn.

“Carlisle, are you busy?” You ask, peeking into his home office. Even after the super long day, he’s a man of habit.

“Not particularly,” he turns to look at you, setting his pen down, “why?”

“Follow me.”

You lead him to the bathroom, where a nice, warm back is drawn. Complete with lilac scented bath oil and two candles lit on the sink.

“The bath looks beautiful, darling. I’m sure the lavender will be great for your skin.”

“Oh, it’s not for me,” you quip. All he does is raise an eyebrow. “It’s for you. I know you’ve had a long day, so go relax and meet me in the bedroom when you’re done.”

You don’t give him a chance to argue before you leave, shutting the door tightly behind you.

He emerges about 30 minutes later, still toweling his hair off.

“Ok now come on over here,” you pat the bed next to you, motioning him to sit there. Again, all he does is quirk and eyebrow but he obliges.

You take the remote to the TV in yours and Carlisle’s room, turning on his favorite movie. A classic one from the silent film era.

“But this… I haven’t seen this movie in years… how did you get it?”

“That’s the beauty of streaming platforms.”

You both sit in silence for a while, Carlisle seemingly happy to just watch his favorite movie after so long. Eventually, he turns to look at you with an inquisitive expression.

“So, what’s all this for?”

“What, am I not allowed to take care of you from time to time?”

He laughs slightly at that.

“A human taking care of a vampire, how twisted.”

You grab his face between your hands at that, drawing him close and looking deep into his yellow eyes.

“It’s not if I want to do it, and I would move the Earth for you.”

“Hopeless romantic,” and with that he kisses you.

Vampire! Bella:

She tends to… shut down

We all know how she was when she couldn’t be with Edward

That translates over

It really wasn’t supposed to be that big of a deal.

Your Spanish class was going to be taking a two week trip to Spain.

Only, Bella wasn’t in Spanish. This time around, she chose to take French. Which was all fine and good, until it meant that she couldn’t go with you.

Cue two weeks of endless calls and texts.

On the phone with you , she sounds fine. But from your calls with Alice, she’s not doing too hot.

She hasn’t been hunting since you’ve been gone, she’s completely stopped going to class, and she also hasn’t talked to anyone in the house.

It’s the last night of your trip, you’re in your hotel room, the girl you’re sharing with is sound asleep in the other bed, but you know one girl who’s never asleep.

You call Bella’s number, and she answers instantly, like she’s been waiting all day for you to call. In all honesty, she probably has.

“Hey, what are you up to?” You can hear the attempt to be nonchalant in her voice, but her eagerness gives her away.

“Oh nothing, I just got off the phone with Alice… wanna tell me why you didn’t leave our room today? Or yesterday? Or the day before?”

You can hear her pause on the line, like she’s trying to come up with a convincing lie, but eventually she sighs.

“I just… I’ve just been missing you a lot, is all. I want you here next to me, I feel incomplete without you.”

Yowch. Right through the heart.

You decide then to help in some way, you don’t know how immediately, but you have to do something.

So you start to hum.

Whenever you have a bad day, Bella hums the song her mom used to sing to her. You always ask her to, and even though she says she isn’t a great singer, she indulges you anyway.

Sometimes it’s the only thing that can stop you from a panic attack or calm you enough to go back to sleep after a nightmare.

You hear her gasp slightly before y he sound of sheets rustling, presumably her laying her head down.

You go through the whole song twice over, Bella never telling you to stop or joining you.

After your voice fades out and the line stays dead for a moment, you swear you can hear Bella overthinking.

“You know, you didn’t have to do that. I’m an apex predator. I shouldn’t be so upset whenever you leave for a little bit.”

You laugh lightly at that, and you can hear her scoff across the line.

“I don’t mind. Especially when it’s you. Bella, I love you and I would do anything for you.”

“Even if I’m a beautiful monster who was designed to kill you?”

“Even if you did kill me, I would hope that my blood nourishes you for months on end.”

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fleming-o · 29 days ago

Text

Embarrassing, right? - Jessie Fleming X Reader

jessie catches you doing a hobby you dont normally share..

request

You sat on the couch, controller in hand, completely lost in your game. It was a quiet afternoon—Jessie was still at training, or so you thought. The familiar sounds of the game filled the room, and for a while, you forgot everything else. This was your way to decompress after a long day, something you never really shared with anyone.

But then the front door clicked open.

Your heart dropped as you froze, hearing Jessie’s footsteps enter the apartment. You quickly fumbled for the remote, your fingers hitting pause just as she walked into the living room. But the screen was still lit up, the colorful game world paused mid-action.

“Hey,” she said, sounding surprised to see you. “I didn’t know you’d be home so early.”

“I could say the same,” you replied quickly, feeling the warmth rise to your face. You tried to play it cool, but Jessie’s gaze had already flicked to the TV.

“What’s this?” she asked, a curious smile tugging at her lips as she sat down next to you. She wasn’t judging you—at least, she didn’t look like she was—but your stomach twisted anyway.

“Uh, it’s just a game I play sometimes,” you mumbled, awkwardly shifting the controller in your lap. You couldn’t meet her eyes. “It’s nothing special.”

Jessie tilted her head, watching you more closely now. “Why didn’t you ever tell me you were into gaming?”

You shrugged, trying to keep it casual even though your nerves were buzzing. “I don’t know. It’s just something small. You’ve got all these important things going on, like soccer and everything, and I guess I didn’t think this mattered much.”

She was quiet for a moment, processing your words, before leaning back against the couch. “You don’t think it matters?”

“Not really,” you said, biting your lip. “I mean, it’s just for fun. It’s not serious like your training or matches.”

Jessie’s eyebrows furrowed, and she turned fully toward you, her expression soft. “But fun matters. Relaxing matters. Why wouldn’t this be important if it’s something you enjoy?”

You blinked, caught off guard by how genuine she sounded. “I don’t know… I just thought you’d think it’s kind of childish. Or that it’s not worth talking about.”

Jessie’s eyes widened slightly, like the thought had never crossed her mind. “Why would I ever think that?” she asked softly. She reached out and gently took the controller from your hands, studying it. “Just because I’m busy with soccer doesn’t mean I don’t care about the things you like.”

You felt a lump in your throat as you finally met her gaze. “I guess I didn’t want to look… silly.”

Her face softened even more, and she set the controller down before pulling you closer. “You never look silly to me,” she said quietly. “I love hearing about what makes you happy. If this is something you enjoy, I want to know about it.”

You blinked back the slight sting of tears, suddenly feeling exposed in a way you hadn’t expected. You hadn’t realized how much you’d been holding back, keeping this small part of yourself hidden because you thought it didn’t matter. But Jessie’s words made it clear that it did—at least to her.

“Really?” you asked, your voice a little shaky.

Jessie nodded, her thumb gently rubbing the back of your hand. “Of course. You don’t have to hide this stuff from me. I love that there’s more to you than I even knew.”

You smiled a little, the tension in your chest loosening. “I guess I just didn’t want you to think less of me.”

Jessie frowned lightly. “I could never think less of you. If anything, this makes me love you more. It shows me a different side of you. I want to know all of you, even the parts you think are small.”

Her words hit you harder than you expected, and suddenly you felt silly for keeping this hidden for so long. “Okay,” you whispered, leaning into her. “I’ll try to share more. No more hiding.”

Jessie smiled warmly, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “Good. Now, show me how to play this thing.”

You laughed, the weight of the moment lifting as you handed her the controller. “Alright, but don’t say I didn’t warn you—it’s not as easy as it looks.”

She grinned, settling into the couch beside you as you walked her through the game. And as she fumbled her way through the controls, laughing at her own mistakes, you realized just how much lighter you felt. Sharing this part of yourself with her wasn’t so scary after all. In fact, it felt good.

Really good.

#woso soccer #woso community #wsl #canwnt imagines #jflem #portland thorns #ucla woso #jessie fleming x reader #woso x reader

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urfavlarry · 7 months ago

Note

I recently got into School bus graveyard and I COMPLETELY understand the hype, idk if im the only who does this... but literally the moment I was done I went to tumblr for fics, but there's like none?? So maybe some dating headcanons for the group!! ^^

Dating Headcanons for the sbg characters

Ashlyn Banner

best person to have a lazy day with tbh

i swear yall would be like “should we go out today” look at each other for 5 seconds and say “nah”

she would teach you some gymnastics and laugh when your just lying there complaining how you aren’t flexible

probably is more of a person that gives you gifts, or gives you a hug in stead of comforting you with words

she would be a bit awkward at first probably

also I don’t think she likes excessive physical touch cuz red confirmed that Ashlyn is autistic but when she gets used to you she would be okay with it but still, don’t go too hard on her

you let her play/stim with your fingers

you’re always there for her when she gets overwhelmed and she loves you so much for that

doesn’t call you that many nicknames probably a short version of your name but if your name is already short then probably just love or babe

if you speak another language she would definitely wanna know some words or learn with you

if it’s your mother language then she would be like “omg how was [your country] like!”

probably is a nerd in some sort of way

anyway probably a great girlfriend to have but only if you aren’t the type to be really really and I mean REALLY extroverted

Taylor Hernández

this girl is such a cutie!!

would plan dates, sleepovers, night outs..

drawing/picnic dates are a must

watching the sunset or sunrise together on the rooftop

calls you cute nicknames like sunshine, mi vida, sugar and that kind of stuff

is very affectionate

cuddles !!

shes the little spoon probably but if you’re feeling down then she will gladly be the big spoon

you would definitely braid her hair if you know how, if you don’t know then there’s another idea for a date! teaching you how to braid hair!

probably isn’t even that awkward at first probably a little bit shy but gets pretty confident later on

the best partner to have if you’re insecure

makes your insecurities disappear in a heartbeat

overall a 11/10 girlfriend !! we love taylor :D

Tyler Hernández

he is probably a tsundere tbh

acting like he doesn’t care but when you are alone he babies you sm

no matter if your bigger then him, stronger, smaller, it doesn’t matter, he babies you no matter what

don’t let the others know tho

isn’t afraid to show you off like girl bffr

holds your hand, has his hand on your waist, kisses you on the forehead, cheek or lips before class starts (even if you are in the same class)

uses nicknames like mi amor, mi reina/mi rey, baby ect.

nicknames with him are endless

movie night is a must

probably would take you to his baseball practice

has a separate album for you only

everyone in the group can tell he’s love sick like he looks at you with heart eyes

a jealous type probably

would beat up anyone and everyone who looks at you the wrong way

he’s probably touch starved and he hides his feelings from you because he just prioritises you over anything

you gotta full on force him to tell you what’s wrong but after a while he opens up to you normally

a 100/10 boyfriend the poor boys been through too much

Logan Fields

gardening dates!!

gives you flowers when you’re sad or just whenever to make your day!

stargazing dates

yapps your ear off about astrology (you let him tho)

calls you nicknames like bunny, hun, love

gives you honest opinions on everything

regrets his choices when you get grumpy afterwards

makes it up to you by cuddling you or kissing your whole face

introduces you to his grandparents

they approved of course because they just trust that he can pick himself a good s/o

hugs from behind!!

reads you a book when you can’t sleep

helps you with your work but doesn’t do it for you (Barron trauma)

best person to seek when you want comfort and or advice

gives you honest advice so if you were in the wrong expect him to tell you lmao

if you listen to music on vinyls or CDs then definitely brings you to a music shop and he will spoil you rotten

loves listening to your music taste no matter what genre it is he just wants to bond with you

he’s such an adorable and amazing boyfriend it mealts my heart !! :D

Aiden Clark

be prepared to patch this boy up every single second of the day

and also getting him out of trouble every single day

he is a wild one for sure

doesn’t mean he’s a bad boyfriend

loves showing you things he learned on his skateboard and he tries to teach you

does that thing where he holds your hands while your on the skateboard, tells you to jump and flips the board for you

that tik tok kind of shi

while on the topic of tik tok, does every silly couple tik tok trend with you lmao

yapps your ear of all day every day

not the best person to ask for advice from but he will hold you until you feel better!

best cuddle buddy

and hug buddy

if you don’t like physical touch then idk if you could have a relationship with him, he will CLING to you as if his life depended on it

loves it when you play with his hair

makes a playlist for you two

calls you nicknames like rockstar, doll, my love, bae, babe

definitely has you saved as “future wife🤭❤️” or “the mother of my kids🥵😍”

he be weird like that

loves to have you in his lap

idk he probably likes you ass sm, not in a sexual way but just lays on it, smacks it, squishes it..

only in private tho

honestly a pretty good boyfriend but he’s more of like your child then boyfriend

Ben Clark

a chill one for sure

hugs, holding hands are a must

listening to music through his headphones how he did with Taylor in that one episode

jealousy scale is um pretty high

you gotta reassure this boy because he’s just scared of loosing you

would fr fight 100 people at once for you if you asked him to

whenever he gets angry, you’re there for him when Aiden can’t and he appreciates that

loves it when you hold his hand and rub circles on the back of it

forehead kisses >>

probably doesn’t give you that many nicknames since he doesn’t speak, either a short version of your name, bae or hun

the best listener ever (not because he doesn’t speak)

when you start to yap and just talk about the most random things he has your back against his chest as he rests his chin on your shoulder

very chill and overall good boyfriend

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daisyblog · 7 months ago

Text

Zane Lowe

Our Story Masterlist Summary: YN is mentioned in Harry’s interview with Zane Lowe.

Based on this request.

“Nice nails” Zane compliments Harry who’s sitting in the seat opposite.

“Thanks” Harry politely replies as he glances down at his turquoise nails sitting on his lap. “Thanks for having me”.

After discussing Pleasing and he loved the idea of It, Zane asked “What made you want to do that?”.

“I think for me like…a big part of it is…like I really like making stuff and I really like..kind of coming up with ideas and collaborating with other…especially YN who again is very creative…I feel like I’m really lucky with people around me both personally and professionally that I get to work with are really fun to work with and…you know working’s like my favourite thing to do so..based on the fact that I think obviously it begins as a hobby so then like getting to make stuff for work I feel like is a real gift. I think if I didn’t think about it too much I would be making music and putting out music constantly…but I’m also aware that I’m a total control freak and I want everything to be perfect..so the idea of like oh I made these four songs I’m just going to put out an EP…It’s just not how I think of it”.

---

“You're faced with a time when you can’t do that…and the great leveller of like it doesn’t matter how much money you have, doesn’t matter where you live, doesn’t matter this doesn’t matter that…you can’t travel you can’t do this, you can’t go outside your house..It’s like suddenly you’re forced to not be this musician guy, you’re forced to be like a boyfriend, brother and a son…and all of those things..and actually I feel like I..you know kind of had a little bit of a chance to focus on that at least for a moment..umm and just stop and kind of take in a lot of stuff and…remember things, you’re kind of gifted this stolen time” Harry explained his view on the world pandemic.

“You mentioned being all these roles…you mentioned being a boyfriend, what was it like during these times?” Zane quizzed. “Because I imagine you got a taste of what it’s like being a “normal” couple”.

Twisting and playing with his rings on his fingers, Harry explains “Umm…YN has always been my comfort you know and I’d like to think I’m hers too…she’s been a big part of my life and…we’ve been through so much tougher…that it was kind of nice to just stop and take that in.” Zane nodded, an indication for Harry to continue “So when the pandemic hit..we isolated in LA for a while..I saw it as a time for us to be just us…but YN did find it hard because she has such a big family…and umm she just wanted to be closer to them…especially her grandparents and siblings”.

“Yeah I can imagine that being hard..being so far away” Zane sympathised “I don’t mean to pry into your personal life but what do you mean by time for just you two?”

“Like..we’ve never known anything other than travelling..or just being surrounded by other people and just having to plan everything in so much detail..to like not be seen you know…so we kind of got to see what a normal like would be like, whatever a normal life is..if that makes sense?”.

“Yeah it makes total sense”. Zane agreed and could see that Harry craved a little normality in his personal life.

“I suppose..I’m just like really lucky..because YN just gets it. She got put into the limelight the same as us..you know..so yeah she just gets it and I’m just so lucky” Harry continued with a slight giggle as he repeated how lucky he was. “I think what I’m trying to say is…I hit gold when it came to YN…she really is my best friend too and yeah…it was nice to be just a couple without the added pressures.”.

---

“We have to acknowledge this because..you know we at one point we were going to this in the United Kingdom”. Harry nodded in agreement “But there’s something wonderful about being in this afterglow of Palm Springs..which is I'm sure is how you feel a little bit after these two amazing headline shows…you seem so chilled you know” Zane laughed but continue “There must have been a relief that you did it?”.

“I just..you know I knew I was going to put something out…whether it’s a show or an album or a song I want it to be perfect..and umm…I think like that’s why I take so much stress on I think around something like Coachella..cause I feel like I want it to be good..like if it’s not going to be good I’d rather not do it..so you know in that kind of setting, no matter what it is kind of…you know the dust or the wind or however many things, it's like so many things can go wrong in that situation..and it's not your show and it's my first festival so…you know I’m kind of going out to the crowd and I like knowing what I’m stepping out to” Harry rambled with a nervous chuckle at the end.

Harry continued “and that was really terrifying”.

“What was your instinct when they asked you to do it?” Zane interrupted.

“That’s too scary and I’m gonna say no” Harry laughed “But..uh YN was like you need to say yes and was just so encouraging and supportive..you know…plus she’s like my biggest fan so of course she wanted me to do it!”.

“So..would you say YN helps with the nerves?” Zane asked curiously.

“I was so nervous..like so nervous..and I remember YN being on facetime to Louis before the show..and them both saying just to be myself and to enjoy…and when I was out there I just focused on being me and nothing else”. Harry spoke freely. “Their advice definitely helped…’cause I had the best time!”.

“Late Night Talking?” Zane stated.

Harry let out a shy chuckle “Uhh…yeah” Harry leans his head on his hand to try and hide is cheeky smile “It’s about YN…well I don’t think it’s a shock to anyone”.

“So…would you say the whole album is about YN?” Zane asked confidently.

“Uhh..most of it..yeah pretty much” Harry smiled “She’s just been a constant in my life..since like we were what..sixteen or seventeen..you know..she’s my life..and I don’t have to pretend to be anyone other than myself around her you know…it’s just easy and I love that about our relationship.” Harry explained.

---

“Matilda really shows emotional intelligence and how you were thinking about someone at that time.”. Zane begins to talk about the middle song on Harry’s album.

“Uh…yeah…I actually didn’t write Matilda”. Harry revealed, causing Zane to looked shocked. “YN had this conversation with someone…and she was getting to know them…and they opened up to her and she was like that’s not normal…so she was almost like writing down what she wanted to say to them…and I was like how many people could relate to this you know…and we agreed that it would make a beautiful song for those who needed to hear it”.

“Waw! It holds a real powerful message and I think even if people don’t feel those things…I think it definitely makes them feel something.”. Zane spoke with passion in his voice.

“It definitely does….and it was just about saying I was listening….that was YN’s purpose to it”.

---

“Boyfriends” Zane began “It is a great song..It’s from a male perspective, it’s a very knowing song..and It’s a very self-aware song..you have to have some self-awareness to write from that perspective surely”.

Harry answered immediately “Yeah for sure…Boyfriends was written right at the end of Fine Line” Harry explained “Boyfriends is about like…we’re all flawed you know..and I think pretending like we’re not, I just don’t get it..It’s acknowledging my own behaviour, it’s looking at the behaviour I’ve witnessed..I grew up with a sister so it’s like watching her date people and watching friends…but at the same time admitting I’ve not been a perfect boyfriend either”.

---

“Love of My Life..I’d always wanted to write a song about like home and loving England…and all of that kind of stuff..and it’s kind of hard to do that you know”

“So Love of Love My Life is about home and England?” Zane asked with a slight smirk on his face.

“As I started making them album…I realised it wasn’t about the kind of geographical location…it was more of an internal thing” Harry tried to hide his bashful smile by rubbing his finger under his nose.

“Do I see Harry Styles blushing?” Zane began to tease Harry.

Harry lets out a loud chuckle and tries to hide his face in his hands “You know..I’ll admit that I blush sometimes…especially when it comes to YN!”.

Tag List:

@pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @harrys-flower @platinumbarbie143 @frickin-bats @harrysbbyh0ney @chronicallybubbly @goldensunflowe-r @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @kaverichauhan @peterholland04 @panicattheuc @or-was-it-just-a-dream @hittiesontour @bunnyharold @fanfictioncafe @lilfreakjez @iamahallucinationnn @theekyliepage @indierockgirrl @buckybarnessimpp @ashleighsss @jerseygirlinca @fake-coolbeans @itsmytimetoodream @treehouse-mouse

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makethemhoesmad · 7 months ago

Text

loml

no comment

—

“i love you, i love you, you’re the fucking love of my life baby, you’re perfect, wanna be with you forever,” paige says to me, kissing my neck while we lay naked in her bed. she never really says this stuff, only after we’ve fucked and she’s itching to go another round. i always cave. “mhmmm, paigey, i love you, please touch me,” she touches me, does what i want, then holds me close to her naked body and falls asleep, mumbling how she’ll never leave. I fall asleep, because she’s a warm body and i love her. she’s the love of my life.

I jolt up from a dream. a dream of a baby with two moms, one blond and one with my face. it wasn’t real, it never is, but after dreams like this it makes me hurt on the inside. i turn over to muffle the silent sniffs that always come from the empty feeling dreams like this leave behind. the body next to me moves, and a cool hand comes up to brush my cheek.

“baby.”

“paige.”

“what’s wrong? did i do something? can i help?”

i sniff, then curl against her, expressing, “i need a baby.”

she looks at me for a moment, perplexed, then kisses my forehead.

“you’re so tired darling, go back to bed”

hm.

paige gets back from practice at normal time, but she isn’t acting as normal as she usually does. normally she’s excitable and tells me all about the shots she made, the plays she set, everything. today she’s just here. my phone lights up, with a text from ashlynn shade of all people. i rarely talk to her. i go to the bathroom to open it, because maybe paige shouldn’t read it.

i read the first message and sink to the floor, back pressed to the wall.

ash shade

hey. i think you should know that paige keeps sayingâ€¦things about you.

what kind of things???

ash shade

well, she talks about how you’re always going on about wanting to settle down, get married, have kids. and she said that “you’re the love of her life. she just doesn’t want that. not now, not ever”

paige gets over her mood later, and we do our usual dance around the obvious issues. she pretends not to notice my faked enthusiasm, and i pretend not to notice the fact that she never once tells me i’m the love of her life. when she falls asleep, i don’t. i wonder when she’ll break up with me. it has to happen soon, there’s no chance it won’t. i’m taken back to the first conversation we had, where she told me that if sex with me was half as good as talking to me was, then soon enough we’d be pushing strollers. but i guess that’s over.

“cmon bro, don’t fucking be like that,” paige taunts me, rolling her eyes at my words.

“don’t you dare bro me, paige. i have a right to be fucking mad, you’re shit talking me to your teammates then coming home and banging me like i’m some one night stand! how about you stop being like this,” i scoff, spitting venom at her words.

“well bro, if you need to know because you’re so insecure that you can’t stand someone saying anything about you, the team asked how we were doing and i told them we wanted different things. fair enough.”

“if we want different things, there’s no point in staying together when we both know where this is going to end.”

“Fine. fuck you and fuck your rings and your cradles.”

“Fuck you,” i say, finalizing what had been brewing since we turned on the fire.

paige leaves, slamming the door and shouting profanities. i lock the door, turn around, and stand in our my bedroom. her hoodie is on the floor. her hoodie is in my arms. she’s the loss of my life.

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #angst #haha

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supernaturalgirl20 · 2 years ago

Note

Hi, I would love to request a Joel fic. I love your work and appreciate all of the effort you put into your work.

I’d love something where reader and Joel have always tried to keep their distance from each other because they don’t want to get emotionally attached. But one night they’re drinking alone and reader kind of confesses her feelings without thinking. And Joel doesn’t really know how to respond.

So the next morning he acts like he doesn’t remember because he’s afraid to be with someone. And it hurts reader’s feelings, but she just doesn’t bring it up.

Until one evening they’re on a run together and they stay in a safe house for the night and reader can’t distract herself anymore and she confronts him. Maybe it turns into a passionate fight where he admits he remembered but was too scared to say how he felt.

Maybe ending with some steamy smut with a soft ending? I love a good pining/angst/smut combo and I think you’d absolutely kill this. Of course no pressure if you’re not into it! Thank you for doing what you do and I hope you have a lovely day!

Thank you so much you’re so sweet 🥹🥰 Absolutely loved this request. I changed it up just slightly but I hope you enjoy 😉

Trying Not To Love You

Pairings: Joel Miller x f!reader

Warnings: Smut 18+, explicit, unprotected sex, mutual pining, oral (female receiving), hidden feelings, confessions, flirting, jealousy, little bit of angst, mentions of drugs and alcohol.

Comments and reblogs really appreciated 🥰

You were feeling the light buzz from the alcohol tickle beneath the surface of your skin, the whiskey warming you from the inside out as it slid smoothly down your throat. As soon as Tommy had left the tipsy bison, Joel had cracked open the good stuff.

It was a rare occasion that you’d both get this time alone, especially since arriving back at Jackson a few months ago. You were both either out on patrol or too tired to do anything other than sleep.

“I still can’t believe this is our life now,” you say as you sit at the bar sipping on your drink. Joel hums in agreement, shifting on his stool so he’s facing you.

“Feels too good to be true, doesn’t it? Doesn't seem right neither, us here livin’ a normal life while the world is gone to shit.” You can feel his eyes on you as he speaks and god the sound of his voice - that deep southern drawl that gets more prominent when he drinks - stirs something in you.

“I know what you mean but we’ve earned it Joel. All the shit we’ve been through, this is what we deserve.”

“I guess. Just makes me on edge knowing it could all be gone in the blink of an eye.” He downs his drink and leans across the bar to pour himself another.

You use the opportunity to take him in. The way his hair has grown slightly longer, curling at the ends, a significantly more amount of grey littering his dark locks since Boston. The stretch of his plaid shirt across his broad back and shoulders. The sun kissed skin that peeks out from under his shirt at his neck.

Your gaze drifts to his hands and the way the bottle seems so small in comparison. You shiver at the memory of how those very hands gripped your hips last night as he drove into you from behind.

“God, I love you,” you whisper, freezing when you see the way his shoulders tense. Fuck! I didn’t mean to say that out loud.

You were never supposed to feel like this. Weren’t supposed to fall in love. Sure, you both enjoyed each other’s company and fucked when the need arose but that’s as far as it went. You both tried to keep it simple. No living together. No feelings. Just casual. It was easier that way because you had nothing to lose then. Or at least that’s what you told yourself.

“I - I, you….” He stammers as he pours himself more whiskey before turning to you with a wry smile and topping yours up too. “Ellie seems to be settling in just fine,” he stated, quickly changing the subject, his eyes avoiding your gaze at all costs.

“Yeah,” you coughed, the whiskey getting caught with your breath. “She’s eh - she’s made some friends. It’s nice, seeing her happy.”

Joel didn’t say much after that, just nodding his head or humming in agreement and when the bottle was gone, you both got up to leave. “G’night.” He muttered as he turned away from you and walked towards his house.

“Night,” you whisper as you wait for him to disappear inside before letting out a sigh and making your way home. Why did you have to fall in love with him?

***

The following morning you had patrol bright and early and as you made your way towards the main gate, you caught a glimpse of Joel standing off to the side having a very animated conversation with Julie.

Of course, she’s with him. She’d been smitten with Joel since you all arrived in Jackson. You weren’t in the mood for this today. You weren’t in the mood for her today. You didn’t get much sleep last night, unable to get what you’d said out of your head. Why didn’t he say anything? Does he not feel the same? Did he even hear me?

You’d planned to address it this morning and clear the air, not wanting to make things awkward between you both. So, taking a deep breath, you sidle up beside him not missing the glare Julie sends your way as you gently touch his arm, drawing his attention to you.

“Hey,” you smile softly at him and his face morphs into that scowl you’ve come to love. “Can I have a word?”

Joel nods before turning back to Julie and saying that he would see her later. “Somethin’ wrong, darlin’?”

God, I love when he calls me that.

“I just wanted to talk about last night. What I said…I…” Joel furrows his brows as he leans against the fence. “Darlin, I’m ashamed to say, I don’t remember much bout last night. That was some strong whiskey,” he laughs, his eyes meeting yours briefly as he looks around at the others gathering at the gate.

“Oh! Okay. Umm, then never mind I guess.” You feel as if you’ve been stabbed in the gut as your stomach twists into knots. He doesn’t even fucking remeber. Of course, he doesn’t.

“Come on. Best get goin’, we want to be back before nightfall.” Joel pushes off the fence and walks towards the main gate, not bothering to throw you a backward glance as he makes his way out of the town.

Your heart aches, feeling almost like you’ve been rejected but at least this meant that you could both carry on as if nothing happened. Right?

***

Her laugh was shrill as she looked down at her feet, twirling that strand of hair between her fingers as she walked beside Joel.

You roll your eyes for the third time and huff loudly as you watch her flirt with him. The man was oblivious. Alway has been, never believing you or Ellie when you say that someone was flirting with him.

“You and him have a fight?” Tommy asks as he jogs up beside you, trying to keep up the pace. “Hmm?” You mutter as you keep your gaze focused on the man in front of you. The smile he has plastered across his face makes you nauseous.

“You two are usually joined at the hip. He never leaves your side and now he’s up there with….”

“Miss Jackson 2023.” Your tone is clipped and the scowl on your face deepens. Tommy bursts into laughter causing Joel and Julie to turn their gaze in your direction.

“Who pissed in your cereal this mornin?” Tommy asked, a wide smile on his face as he nudged your shoulder. You let your gaze drift from Joel to Tommy and you can’t help but let out a little chuckle.

“M’sorry. Just didn’t sleep much last night. Me and Joel are…we’re good.” Tommy hummed as he let his eyes drift between you and his brother, not missing the way Joel’s gaze lingered on you.

“If you say so. Come on,” he states as he pushes forward, leaving you trailing behind. “Fucking Millers,” you mutter under your breath as you jog after him.

Later that night, you waited for Joel in your dining room. Dinner was waiting on the stove to be heated as soon as he came but as the hours ticked by, you began to realise he wasn’t coming.

That ache in your chest that you had earlier when you saw him smiling at Julie began to creep in again. Where was he? He always came for dinner on Friday night. It had become somewhat of a tradition since living in Jackson. You’d both have dinner here and then somehow find yourself in your bed, wrapped in each other's arms.

The voice in your head told you to go to the Tipsy Bison and see if he was there with her, but with a sigh, you turn out your lights and have an early night.

Maybe he’ll come here tomorrow?

***

He didn’t show Saturday either. Or Sunday and when Monday rolled around, you’d gone from feeling sorry for yourself to downright angry.

What the fuck was he playing at? Why was he being so distant?

Grabbing your bag, you throw it over your shoulders and make your way down the street to the main gate. Tommy had come by the day before to ask if you’d be willing to make a special run for medical supplies to which you happily agreed, as long as it wasn’t with Joel.

Fixing your knife into your belt, you’re startled when you hear that familiar southern drawl. “Hope you brought your gun too, darlin?” Joel stood to the side of the gate with Tommy.

Both Miller brother’s gaze were fixed on you but yours was only focused on Tommy, who you greeted with a scowl.

“What’re you doing here?” You ask as your eyes drift back to Joel, that ache in your chest returning with a vengeance.

“I told ya before, I don’t feel comfortable with you going on runs without me.” He’s staring at you, but his face gives nothing away which only serves to anger you more.

“I don’t need no damn babysitter, Joel. I can handle it. Besides, Jason was gonna be tagging along.” You stood with your hands crossed across your chest, eyes narrowed as you snarked at him.

“Never said you needed a babysitter. I know you’re more than capable of handlin things, but you know I ain’t ever able to sit still when you head out without me.”

“Surprised you’d even notice,” you muttered under your breath. “Fine. If you’re insisting on coming, then let’s head out. I wanna be home before dark.” You turn with a finger pointed to Tommy. “You. I’m gonna be having a word with you when I get back.”

You turn and march off leaving both Miller men staring after you. “Good luck with that,” Tommy says, clapping his big brother on the back. Joel scoffs as he turns to follow you.

***

You could cut the awkward tension with a knife and every time you snuck a glance at Joel, you found him already staring at you. I don’t know how much more of this I can take.

“I think we’ve got pretty much everything on the list, we should start making our way back.” You state as you turn away from the shelf, stuffing the antibiotics into your bag.

Joel’s keeping watch, his gaze fixed out the window and gun cocked, and you can’t help but admire him. No. You gotta stop this. Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath before closing the gap between you.

He startles when you gently place your hand on his arm. “Did you hear me? We’ve got everything we need.” His gaze holds your own for a moment and you wish he felt the same way you did.

Clearing his throat, he steps back slightly, your hand falling away from him, and you pull it towards your chest before swallowing the lump in your throat.

He steps around you and opens the door slowly, scanning the area before ushering you outside. You’re both halfway down the street when you make out distant voices.

“Fuck.” He curses as his head moves toward the sound. Five men emerge from the tree line and he grabs you by the arm and pulls you along behind him.

“Joel,” you say nervously as he continues to pull you along. His grip getting tighter on your arm and hurting you. “What - what are we gonna do? They’re blocking the way home.”

He doesn’t answer. He just continues to move through the small town quickly as he tries to get you both to safety. He turns abruptly and you gasp.

“Tommy has a safe house nearby. We’re gonna have to stay the night and wait it out.” His face is stern, but you can see the hint of worry in his eyes as they scan your face.

You look over your shoulder, seeing some of the men making their way to the pharmacy and Joel gently whispers your name.

“We can’t take them on. We’re outnumbered. I ain’t risking it. I ain’t risking you.” Your breathing becomes ragged, and his hand gently caresses your cheek. “Come on, darlin’. We gotta go.” He grabs your hand in his and moves you quickly through the town, making sure to stay out of sight before you both disappear through the trees.

***

Night has fallen and Joel is out back grabbing some wood for the stove while you heat up some canned pasta. You’d argued that it was too dangerous to light a fire, but he’d said the cabin was too far out for anyone to see the smoke.

It beats having to huddle for warmth, you think to yourself as you stir the pot. He pushes open the door and throws a log into the stove before moving up behind you.

“Smells good,” he hums, his breath hot on your neck as his hand brushes along your lower back. “It’s almost done. You can sit by the fire. I’ll bring it over in a minute.”

Glancing at him over your shoulder, you see he has taken his boots off and your heart aches at the sight of him looking so relaxed. The cabin and the fire and the two of you alone it’s so domestic and that makes it hurt even more.

Handing him his bowl of pasta, you take a seat on the couch beside him as you both tuck into dinner.

It’s quiet. Too quiet and normally it doesn't bother you. Joel is always kind of quiet, but this is different. There’s an awkward tension in the air and you begin to feel claustrophobic.

You can feel his eyes on you, and it just gets to be too much. “Stop,” you shout as you stand abruptly, turning to face him.

“What are you talking about, darlin?” He scoots to the edge of the couch, hands held up as if in surrender.

“Don’t darlin’ me, Joel. Ugh…. I can’t do this anymore.” You clench your hands into fist as they hang at your side and begin to storm off toward the bedroom.

His hand on your arm stops you though as he slowly steps around the couch to face you. “Baby,” he whispers as he places both his hands on your cheeks. “Talk to me.”

“No! No, you don’t get to do that to me Joel. You don’t get to ignore me for the last four days and then come here and start calling me baby. I’m not your baby. Or your darlin’ and you made that pretty fucking clear the other night when you completely ignored what I said.”

Something shifts behind his eyes, and you know you were right all along about that night. “I don’t….” He mutters but you're quick to cut him off.

“Oh, pull the other one. I know you heard me that night at the bar. I know you heard me say I love you and you made me fucking think you were too drunk to remember. Jesus, Joel. Do I really mean so little to you?”

He shakes his head, but you don’t want to know what he has to say, not anymore. You pull out of his grasp and try to hold back the sobs as you make your way into the only bedroom.

“Shit.” You can hear him curse before the sound of his footsteps echo behind you.

“You’re right. I did hear you and the reason I didn’t say anything that night was because I was scared. I am scared. We’ve been together since Boston and in that time, I’ve grown to care about you. I’ve - fuck, I love you, alright. I fucking love you and it scares the shit outta me because if anythin were to happen to you, it would break me.”

His breathing was ragged as tears shimmered in his eyes. You stood staring at him in shock at what he’d just confessed, and you could feel your heart swell at his words.

“I love you, baby, and I’m sorry for how I behaved that night, for how I’ve been behavin. I thought I could let you go but I can’t, and I don’t want neither. Think you can forgive this old fool?”

You chuckle, unable to believe that you both are such idiots, and you can see the corner of his mouth twitch into a smile as he slowly moves towards you. His hand reaches out, wrapping around your waist and pulling you close.

“Well, what do ya say,” he asks as he wipes a stray tear from your cheek with his thumb. “I think I can forgive you, as long as you promise to never ignore me again.”

He rests his forehead head against yours, his eyes closing as he lets out a contented sigh. “I swear it, baby. Can I kiss you now?”

His eyes are open now and staring down at you and you feel like you’re on cloud nine. Nodding your head he places his hand under your chin and tilts your mouth towards his own before kissing you.

Is this really happening?

It’s soft at first. His lips gently caress yours until he licks along your bottom lip. When your tongues meet it’s as if you’re two horny teenagers unable to get enough of each other. His hands grab at your ass, and you squeal when he places his hands around your thighs and lifts you.

You wrap your legs around his waist, and he walks you over to the bed, laying you down gently.

Joel is quick to rid you of your clothes, the rough pads of his fingers skimming along your curves. His own clothes join yours on the floor shortly after. His eyes glaze over with lust as he stands at the edge of the bed taking in your naked form. “So, fucking beautiful baby,” he breaths, his voice husky with need.

You rest your head on the pillows and watch as he crawls up the bed towards you, his lips trailing light kisses along your legs and thighs.

“What are you doing, Joel?” His gaze moves along your naked curves until it meets yours. “Gotta make it up to ya darlin,” he rasps and you pull your bottom lip between your teeth.

His breath is hot on your skin as he hovers over your aching cunt. His tongue glides along your slick as he teases you. Lifting your hips you plead with him, desperately needing him to touch you. “Please!”

He raises a brow and smiles at you before me burying his face into your curls. “Ooh!” You moan as your back arches off the bed, hands finding purchase in his hair. He moves your legs over his shoulders and buries his tongue inside you.

You writhe beneath him as pleasure begins to build. He alternates between licking and sucking and shoving his tongue inside you that you are a complete and utter mess on the bed below him. That familiar heat begins to form, and you can feel yourself getting closer and closer to that edge.

“Oh God,” you moan, as your orgasm rips through you. Your body shudders as you come down from your high.

“Taste so sweet, darlin,” he says as he moves up your body, peppering light kisses along your skin. He’s flush against you, the tip of him nudging at your entrance and with one roll of his hips, he stretches you open. He groans loudly as he fills you to the hilt, his eyes closed as he tries to calm himself, desperately hoping he doesn’t cum within two minutes.

Once he has control of himself, he begins to rock into you, his cock pulling out to the tip before pushing back in. You're already sensitive from your earlier orgasm and the way he’s stimulating your clit with his cock has you whimpering beneath him.

His hands grip onto your waist, fingers digging into your soft skin as he sits back onto his knees, pulling you to with him so you’re sat atop him.

He holds you down with his right hand as he pistons his hips up into you, his left kneading your breast as he pulls your pebbled nipple into his mouth and sucks. Your head falls back between your shoulders as you cry out his name. “Joel.”

Clenching around him, he groans - his head resting between your breasts, the feeling of you wrapped around him making him dizzy.

His hands grip your hips as you begin to move with him - rolling your hips over him. You shudder in his arms as your cunt clenched around him once again - his trusts become erratic as he nears the edge.

He grips your hips and lifts you off him as he cums, coating your thighs with his release. As much as you’d love him to finish inside you, you know that it’s too risky.

His eyes are staring at your thighs. At where he’s marked you with his spend. “So pretty,” he mutters as he lifts his gaze toward you. “I love you darlin.”

“I love you too. I’m gonna need to have a shower after that,” you giggle and he pulls you into him, kissing your lips softly.

“How about I run us a bath? Sound good?” He smiles at you, moving a start piece of hair behind your ear.

“That sounds like heaven.”

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