#not sure what the evidence is but i'll take their word on it for now

[misotsukiiyeooo]

"What's this one about?"

Pairing: Jeon Wonwoo x F! reader

A/N: need me a Wonwoo. (I'm too lazy to add photos for this one sry!)

Genre: Fluff

Word count: 3.6k

Synopsis: Wonwoo's curious and interested in the book you're reading, so interested that he accidentally reads ahead.

On a serene, cozy, rainy night, you stand in front of your kitchen counter, resting your book on it while being completely engrossed in the story.

So focused on the book, that you don't even notice your boyfriend, Wonwoo, walking into the kitchen.

He approaches from behind and wraps his big arms around you. "What's this one about, hmm?" Wonwoo asks, resting his chin on your shoulder.

With a smile, you reply, "It's about a girl on a mission to find out who killed her family. It's so good, and right now, the killer might be one of her best friends! Crazy, right?"

He listens intently as you speak, wanting to ensure you feel heard. He hums in response, "It does sound interesting."

You turn to face him and ask, "Want to read it with me? I could start over."

Wonwoo rests his hands on your waist as you talk. "Are you sure? Reading it over again doesn't sound fun."

You nod reassuringly. "I'm sure! Besides, I'm only like twenty pages in." You wait for his response.

He nods, "Alright then." You grin at him and take his hand, guiding him to your bedroom.

The gentle sound of rain drizzles against the window, creating a soothing backdrop to your shared silence.

You're both comfortably tangled in bed, feeling his chest rise and fall as he breathes.

"Isn't the book good so far?" you ask. He chuckles lightly, tilting his head. “I’m still trying to figure out if I can trust the second best friend. There’s something off about him.”

"Right? I think he might be the killer!" you exclaim, pointing at the page as if to emphasize the character.

He chuckles again, wrapping his arms a little tighter around you. "Now that I think about it, he's always around when the girl finds pieces of evidence."

You nod, enjoying how invested Wonwoo is in the story. Resting your head on his chest, you continue to read.

As you delve deeper into the book, you begin to feel tired, lulled by the rhythm of the rain in the background.

Gradually, you fall asleep, with Wonwoo remaining oblivious to your quiet state.

He gasps in shock as he figures out the plot twist. "He was the killer! We knew it!" He raises an eyebrow when he realizes you're not responding.

Wonwoo turns slightly to face you and scoffs. "Really? I guess I'll just have to pretend I didn't read it." He speaks softly, knowing you wouldn’t want to hear the details if he’s already finished the book.

He places the book beside the bed along with his glasses before kissing the top of your head and saying goodnight.

Sequel You and Wonwoo are both resting on the couch, watching TV.

"By the way, did you finish the book last night?" you ask, looking up at him.

Wonwoo shakes his head. "No, I noticed you were sleeping, so I didn't finish it," he replies, lying.

"Really? Oh…well, I woke up in the middle of the night because I couldn't stop thinking about it. But guess what? You wouldn't believe who the killer was!" you respond excitedly.

He looks over nervously. "Who was it?" He pretends to be curious.

"The guy we were talking about earlier—the best friend!" you reveal dramatically.

Wonwoo covers his mouth with his hand, his eyes wide. "Really?!"

You pause, sinking into the couch. "You read it, didn’t you?" You don’t buy his poor acting.

He sighs in defeat. "I'm sorry, Doll. I thought you were awake, so I kept reading…"

You giggle at his small pout. "It's fine, I guess. I did wake up to read it without you too, so…I suppose we're even."

He smiles. "I guess so." You sit closer to him again and look at the TV. "By the way, you're a terrible actor."

You both burst into laughter, the sound echoing joyfully throughout the house.

Reqs are open!!

Taglist!!

@jjunie-0 @black-swan-blog27 @allieyaaa @honglynights @bath1lda @hanniehae-yoon @wonunonu

[bree-peasant]

One for the Ages - a Kakashi x fem!Reader fic

Author's note: Hey guys! I've not written a fic in years, but I'm stuck at home with a broken ankle, so getting back into it! This one is a reader self-insert, but the reader has a pre-established past, that'll reveal itself throughout the story. A real slowburn, intended to have multiple parts, so please let me know if you enjoyed it and I'll keep going!

Word count: ~2.5k

Summary: A new shinobi joins the Konoha ranks and Kakashi finds himself inexplicably drawn to her. Includes scenes with Gai & Iruka.

Warnings: Mentions of blood and trauma, otherwise none!

Enjoy! ♡

-------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 1:

"I've gathered you all here because there will be a new shinobi joining your ranks..." The Third Hokage paused his address to the highest ranking village ninjas and glanced over to the woman standing beside him. Her face looked solemn but sure.

"Y/N is a refugee from the Village Hidden in the Wind and will be taking over one of the graduate genin teams as their sensei. I'm sure you will all make her feel welcome in our village's customary ways."

"But Lord Hokage!" Gai made his way through to the front of the small crowd. "I don't mean to challenge your decision, Lord Hokage, but how are we to accept this stranger as a shinobi, and a jōnin level one at that! Surely her skills must be put to the test beforehand!" A whisper of approval among the crowd followed Gai's words.

The Hokage turned to look at Y/N with a raised brow.

"I will do what is required of me." She nodded in return.

"Then it has been settled!" The Hokage turned back to the crowd. "Y/N will showcase her talents as a shinobi in a friendly fight. And I'm sure you won't mind being her opponent Gai, since you spoke so fervently on the matter." There was a note of playfulness in his voice.

"Yes of course, Lord Hokage! Maito Gai never backs down from a challenge!" The bushy browed sensei gave his usual flamboyant pose and a thumbs-up, not forgetting to throw a glance at his rival Kakashi, who stood towards the back of the crowd. For once Kakashi had put his book down, as he studied the new shinobi's face. It wasn't quite that he knew her from somewhere, rather, he knew that look in her eyes...

The crowd parted to make room for a make-shift arena for the match. Y/N and Gai stood in the centre, facing each other. There was a small smile playing on her lips as she watched Gai flash his stance.

"Forgive me if I don't go easy on you, newcomer!"

"I didn't ask you to."

"Confidence! I respect that in an opponent! Now let's see what you've got!"

In a flash Gai was behind her with a kick to the head, but despite his impeccable speed and technique, Y/N seemed to block it with ease. He followed up with a fury of punches and kicks, but none of them seem to land. It was like she could sense him coming from each direction. As Gai tried to land another powerful kick,  Y/N successfully dodged and tried to return the favour. Gai easily evaded her attack and jumped some distance away from her.

"You're fast, I'll give you that. But you've gone in too cocky." Y/N smirked, an evident smile creasing her face for the first time that day.

"It's time we ended this fight. Wind style, syphon jitsu!" A gust of wind rolled around Gai and pulled him towards Y/N like a torpedo. Before he could release himself, he was met with a powerful kick that sent him flying towards the end of the fighting area, cracking the ground beneath him with his fall.

"Well, I believe that's sufficient proof, wouldn't you say?" The Hokage pronounced from the podium. "Let's call it a day before someone gets a concussion!" As the Hokage and his men made to leave, Y/N approached Gai and extended her hand to him with a friendly smile, helping him back to his feet.

"Your skills are indeed formidable! But don't think I'll go down that easy on our next encounter!" He flashed her a toothy grin, which she matched right back.

"Your taijitsu is some of the best I've ever seen. Perhaps you could teach me in a friendlier sparring match next time?"

"I'd be delighted. You should see my student Rock Lee's taijitsu skills as well! He's quite the talent. Of course, Neji Huyga is also on my team and he's a real prodigy."

"A Huyga! I believe I might have one of those on my team too... I really must brush up on my knowledge of the village history and the next generation of shinobi..." Y/N brushed the sweat off her brow with a concerned expression on her face. She really had her work cut out for her.

"In that case you should speak to Iruka at the Academy. He's been teaching the last few classes of genin to graduate there, he'll be able to catch you up on things!" Gai gave her a thumbs up. "I will see you around, Y/N-sensei. Welcome to Konoha!"

She bowed in return and made her way towards the exit. Kakashi stood near the door, leaning against the wall with his book in hand. As she walked passed him, he looked up and his lazy eye met hers.

"Your book..."

"Hm?"

"It's upside down."

Flustered, Kakashi looked down, and then back up towards her, but she'd already disappeared. "I've never been worse at my job as a ninja, than in this moment." He thought to himself following the rest of the crowd outside. Perhaps following the new jōnin from afar wasn't the best tactic to employ here. He'd have to get to know her the old-fashioned way.

Next day:

The kids had all just piled out of the classroom when he heard a knock on the door frame.

Iruka looked up to see a female shinobi he'd not met before.

"Is this a good time?" She asked.

"Ahem, yes, what can I do for you?"

"My name is Y/N. I'm a... transfer from another village. I'll be training team 8 from now on. I was told you could help me catch up on the village's history, Iruka-sensei." A soft smile blossomed on her lips as she bowed her head to him.

Flustered by the way she had voiced her request, Iruka blushed and stammered out a response. "Of course, I'd be happy to help! What is it that you want to know?"

"Well, my students' backgrounds for a start, the village clan history, really anything I can get my hands on. I'm keen to do right by these kids."

Her words strung a chord with Iruka. "Yes, we all are. Well, I have some books with me here that you're welcome to borrow, and I have some more things at my flat that might be useful. I could bring them tomorrow... or if you'd like to join me, I have some spare time this afternoon, I can take you through them myself?" Iruka was bright red by this point, it had taken all the courage he had left that day to suggest it.

"That would be awfully generous of you, if you're sure I won't be imposing!"

"Not at all! I'll just finish collecting my things and we can head out!"

They walked back towards his place, Iruka filling their silence with stories of his students, often sending Y/N into fits of laughter. It was nice being in Iruka's presence, warm, light. Iruka, in the middle of a story, turned to her, gesticulating wildly for added affect when he bumped shoulders with someone.

"Hey! Oh... Kakashi... sorry, I wasn't looking."

The grey haired ninja stood in casual clothing with a grocery bag in his arm and an unreadable expression on his masked face. He nodded to Iruka without even looking at him, his lazy eye resting on Y/N instead.

"You two look like you're getting along."

Iruka blushed, but Y/N's face remained unchanged. She made a mental note of his name. Kakashi. There was something about him that made her feel uneasy. Like he could see right through her.

"Day off?" She casually asked.

"Not quite. I've been assigned a solo mission and just had some time to prepare for it."

"Well good luck on it." Iruka threw in. "We better get on, Y/N, it'll take me some time to dig everything up for you."

"Right." She bowed to Kakashi and followed Iruka, already a few steps ahead, eager to lose the notorious jonin. She couldn't help but throw a glance back at Kakashi, just to see his back lazily swaying as the distance between them grew. Something in her ached at the sight.

A few days later:

Another sleepless night. It wasn't that her new bed, in her new room, part of her new life, was uncomfortable. It was rather that things were too comfortable. She couldn't remember the last time she could sleep peacefully without fear for her life before coming to Konoha. The Hokage had been kind enough to give her time to settle in, so she hadn't been sent on any missions yet; still, her body jolted awake at night, her mind unable to tell reality from the demons that haunted her sleep.

Tonight was even worse, Y/N hadn't been able to sleep a wink, aware of every slight noise, the room stuffy, her body hot. In a moment of desperation, she'd jumped out of bed, grabbed a scarf and walked out in the cool night air. She strolled aimlessly, her eyes adjusting to the dimly lit village, her head spinning with thoughts about the past, the training she'd prepared for her newly acquired genin, whom she'd meet soon, but most of all (and she really did try to shoo that particular one away) she thought about the mysterious gray-haired ninja, whose single visible eye had bored into her soul.

As if answering her muddled thoughts, a sudden rustling caught her attention. A shadow jumped out of one of the nearby trees, landing onto the ground, stumbled, hand clutching side, but noticing he wasn't alone, tried to regain composure. The figure walked towards her, slightly strained until he came into sight.

"Kakashi! What are you doing sneaking around at this time of night!"

"I should ask you the same thing. A little late for a stroll, is it not?

His mask and clothes were covered in mud and dust, his whole look quite dishevelled. Noticing Y/N's eyes studying him curiously, he let out a slight chuckle.

"I've just come back from my mission, that's all."

"You're injured." She said plainly.

"It's nothing, really."

"I can smell the blood from here. I think you should go to the hospital..."

"No." He quickly cut her off. Seeing the look of persistence on her face, he realised he wouldn't get out of this one so easily.

"I can't go to the hospital, they'll keep me there for days, and I have... I have things to take care of tomorrow." His whole body sagged in resignation.

"Can I at least have a look?" She said softly.

"If you must, but I warn you, it's not pretty."

Kakashi unzipped his vest and lifted his shirt, showing a nasty, open wound on his left side. It didn't seem too deep, but definitely painful.

"Don't worry, I've seen enough blood i my time." Y/N stepped closer, as the darkness of night didn't allow for clear vision. She didn't fail to notice the strained muscles of his abdomen, or the way his v-line tucked into his trousers, but pulled all her strength into focusing on the wound.

"You won't go to hospital, fine. But will you let me help? If you don't take care of this, you'll wind up with an infection, that'll keep you in hospital longer than a few days."

"What can you do?" Kakashi's voice sounded unsure.

"Do you think you could trust me?"

He stood silent for a moment, studying her face. To his own dismay he nodded.

"Then follow me."

They walked together slowly, Kakashi tiredly dragging his feet at times.

"You can lean on me if you need to. I can handle the weight."

"No, I'm quite alright. Just tired."

"You're very stubborn, you know. I'm surprised you're even coming now." He could detect a smile in her voice, the thought of which made him shiver.

"Not as surprised as I am." He swallowed thickly. He hated talking about himself. "What were you doing out at this time anyway?"

"I..." Y/N fell silent for a moment. She still didn't know how to open up to strangers, how much of her past she could reveal without it becoming dangerous. "I find it hard to sleep. If I do manage it, I'm plagued by nightmares, the rest of the time I'm just... on edge. Walking outside seems to help."

Kakashi just nodded in response, hoping it didn't go unnoticed in the darkness that surrounded them. In truth, he wanted to tell her he understood perfectly, and that he couldn't remember the last time he got a good night's sleep. That he felt perpetually exhausted and feared the shadows that his mind conjured at night. Most of all, he wanted to ask if they could keep each other company on their sleepless nights. But it felt much too soon for any of that, so he said nothing.

"We're here." Y/N announced, standing at the door of her building. She pulled out her key and pushed the door open, making way for Kakashi to go in.

"Is this... your flat? Y/N, I hate to tell you this, but I'm really not that kind of girl." Kakashi tried to joke, but something caught in his throat and he coughed, writhing in pain from his wound.

"Very smooth." She scoffed at him. She lead him into the kitchen and turned on the light, revealing strings of drying herbs, hanging across her window.

"Sit here." She pointed at a chair and Kakashi silently obeyed, taking in his surroundings. She didn't have much, just enough mugs and plates for the comfort of one, no pictures or personal memorabilia hanging on the walls. So she hadn't brought much with her then.

Meanwhile, Y/N picked a couple of different leaves from her drying racks and started mixing them into a paste, adding liquid from little jars, strewn along the window sill. Finally she walked over with the mixture in hand.

"May I?" She asked, pointing at his wounded side.

Kakashi lifted his shirt once more, and kneeling next to him, she started carefully covering the gash with the sticky green concoction.

The room was filled with a grassy scent. Her hands were cold, which eased the pain of contact with the wound. Kakashi tried his best not to wince, but his body betrayed him by twitching away from her every time she touched him. He wondered whether it was just the pain, or the sensation of being touched by another, that had become so foreign to him outside of combat.

"There, there. Almost done." Her voice was soothing, almost sweet. Kakashi's body instinctively relaxed to the sound of it. They remained like this for a few seconds, him silently watching her movements from above.

"You know, you should take it easy on Iruka. I think he has a crush on you." He spoke quietly, testing the waters.

Y/N cocked a brow, but refrained from looking up, worried that her flushed cheeks would betray her.

"I think that's a stretch, he was just being helpful, that's all." She tried to keep her voice nonchalant.

Kakashi just hummed in response, unsure if he'd managed to find what he was looking for.

"Right, you can put your shirt back down. This should speed up the healing, and subdue the pain. It'll harden and act as a protector for the wound. Just wash it off in a couple of days." She got up, heading towards the sink to wash up.

"How did you know to do this?" He asked, standing up to test how it felt when he moved.

"There was a woman in my village." Y/N spoke with her back still turned to him, eyes focused on washing the mixing dish. "People were afraid of her, thought her a witch. But she was kind to me when not many others were." She placed the dish on the drying rack and turned back to look at him. There was a sadness in her eyes, that didn't evade Kakashi's notice. "She shared some of her knowledge of herbs with me. Insisted it could save my life some day."

They stood silently, staring at each other. It seemed they had both suddenly realised that they were alone in her flat, and weren't sure what to do with that knowledge.

"I should probably go." Kakashi was the first to break their silence.

"Yes. Probably should."

"I'll see you around. And Y/N... thank you."

Without waiting for a response, Kakashi turned towards the door, and left somewhat hurriedly, his heart in his throat. Y/N remained in her place for a minute longer, staring at the space he'd just occupied. How right it had felt to have him here, in her kitchen. How afraid she was of that thought.

[yaoireview]

Glinda and elphaba

...excuse me?

Glinda and- elpha... what are you SAYING RIGHT NOW?

...Those are WOMEN.... NOT MEN.... i'm god damn YAOI REVIEW..... NOT YURI REVIEW... oh my GOD..

This isn't funny! You've got a SICK sense of humor!

I think some people need a lesson on Yaoi right now.

(boys kissing. dont like, dont read)

WHAT IS YAOI?

its boys kissing.

just boys kissing.

And I don't mean it metaphorically or rhetorically or poetically or theoretically or any other fancy way. Its boys kissing. Straight. Up.

please let it be known that yaoi in some forms is innapropiate artwork of boys.. i dont see it that way.. its just boys kissing. keep your sick selves out of this.

you may not know this, but glinda and elphaba are NOT boys. check again, they're girls. (unless im wrong, in which COMMENT DOWN BELOW and tell ME what your favorite boys kissing is.)

You wicked fans... i cant even CALL you wicked.. you're STRAIGHT UP DEMENTED.. You people make me sick.

Look.. I'll do it but if you're not satisfied with what you find, just go over to Yuri Review's house since you LOVE them so much

GELPHIE, THE EVIDENCE AND REVIEW

I think this is gonna be pretty easy to prove the existence of, so im just gonna do this QUICK and simple.

What is This Feeling? Beginning Lyrics

This is definitely one of the smaller pieces of evidence but the lyrics at the beginning REALLY make it seem like they were gonna say they are in love.

You might just say "oh its just a joke its a joke of the song!! musicals LOVE jokes!!" but your pal in high school "jokingly" hit on a man, and now they're married? Still think its a bit?? ....yeah... me neither..

They literally kiss in the first novel

look man.. you're gonna have to take my word for this one.. because im not opening that book.. I've heard of the things that happens in the books and I'm not taking any chances. An article about it said this.. it may be false.. it may not be its kinda a guessing game with that sorta stuff

i may have also just grabbed the wrong quote though because they said it was heterosexual but I'm SURE it'll be fine

Ariana Grande's Comments

Ariana Grande HAS claimed that she thinks that her character is 'a little in the closet'.

You can trust Ariana Grande. She would never do anything bad

Ariana Grande is CLEARLY the most important person to speak out about the canonical ideas of yuri in this story

CONCLUSION

look... you must understand that i REALLY didn't enjoy this. I like wicked just fine i watched it opening weekend its just... not what i review... I review BOYS kissing.. not girls kissing..

Yaoi: 0/10

Yuri: 8.5/10 (or something like that as i said this isnt my profession, im kinda like a substitute teacher that just turned on a video)

[amerricanartwork]

Some Innocence sketches. Trying to finalize my headcanon design for this character so I can do another long post explaining her more in-depth. I'm really excited to talk about what I've come up with!

[unproduciblesmackdown]

maybe bsol is that time jen tepper mentions when she was so upset about a review of a show of joe's that she broke a glass (&/or threw it out a window)

[todayisafridaynight]

Sorry to keep throwing Miscellaneous Asks your way, but I finally had a moment to get my thoughts in order on one of the points on your Venn diagram I wanted to talk about! I always kind of debate whether or not to send other, semi-unrelated long asks like this when we've already got a chain going, but oh well. I'll try and address anything brought up in response here in the main one and hopefully it doesn't get confusing lol.

So I was thinking about the extent of Jo and Arakawa's relationship. It is completely true there's not much you can say that's concrete, especially since most of what we see is from Jo's perspective. Although his perspective is crucial to forming an understanding of their relationship, it's not sufficient. This is particularly the case because, coming back to giri-ninjo for a moment, Jo is largely bound by giri; it's clear his loyalty runs deep, but it's not a choice for him.

Arakawa, on the other hand, can choose who he places his trust in, especially early on. And I think it's incredibly important that, despite having men who've already been with him from day 1, men who've already been helping him with his son, Arakawa chooses to "place every confidence" in Jo (per an old Famitsu profile, one of the first official ones) and chooses to make Jo his captain.

Similarly, he kind of chooses Jo "over" Ichi in sending Ichi to prison "instead of" Jo. Perhaps the family really would collapse without Jo's talents, but… does it have to collapse entirely? Didn't Arakawa make it pretty far on his own? I guess it's neither here nor there, but I've always wondered if things would've really played out as feared if Jo went to prison instead. Not to understate Jo's role in the family, of course.

Anyway, I think that trust shows not only in overt gestures such as entrusting Masato and the family's finances to Jo, but also in more subtle behind-the-scenes ways, such as what we were talking about before with regard to New Year's 2001. There's also the fact that leaking information to Aoki was Jo's idea; for that to be the case, Arakawa would have to discuss Aoki's threats at length with Jo. (Unrelated, but come to think of it, "complying with him [to] make him see value in keeping us around" is very often the strategy of victims of abuse and neglect…)

And this one's an underrated detail many people miss, but after Arakawa shot Ichi, while he was able to come up to Ichi to tell him he's counting on him and sneak in the fake bill, if the goal was to not arouse suspicion, I don't think he would exactly have been able to excuse himself from the dinner to drive Ichi to Yokohama. Time was of the essence in terms of Ichi's survival, so that leaves Jo, who was conveniently already at the scene and who was certainly in on the "secret rule" that constitutes part of the Arakawa Family's agreement with the homeless camp. Overall, there is a pattern of Arakawa approaching Jo before anyone else, isn't there?

Sort of branching off of that, I would personally feel comfortable saying that Jo knows Arakawa better than anyone else. He seems to know details about Akane and New Year's 1976 no one else does, details Arakawa would have had to volunteer himself, and that plus his own experiences are what allow him alone to have the most complete picture of that night.

I also get the impression Jo understands Arakawa better as a person than anyone else--certainly better than Aoki, but perhaps even better than Ichi in some cases. There are multiple instances where he defends Arakawa and challenges their perceptions of him--that he's "betrayed" the Tojo Clan, that he's betrayed Aoki, that he's the type to scheme and make power-plays behind Aoki's back. He hasn't. And, despite how little Jo's "allowed" to say, he turns out to be right every time. Also worth noting Arakawa does something similar in asking Ichi to try and understand Jo's frustrations, though he's more or less enabling Jo's abuse in doing so.

Lastly, The Smallest Detail that drives me kind of insane. Them arriving at the office in the back seat of the same car in one of Ichi's flashbacks. I wouldn't think too much of it if it were any other time of day, but the first-thing-in-the-morning quality and the fact Jo isn't driving (thus it's not as an act of service but as an equal) is like… Okay. You're carpooling to work. And if you're not carpooling, you're honest-to-god living together. What the hell.

So a lot of it is this web of inferences--it has to be, at least currently--but I really do think there's a lot to chew on. More than meets the eye, anyway. I've also been stewing in all of this for years, especially since drafting Jo's relationships section, so I might just have inhaled the fumes for too long lol

Thank you for coming to me about the nature of their relationship! Although I did put it down as being more-or-less 'uncertain' on my chart, I do agree that their relationship isn't as cut-and-dry as other relationships might be (it's going back to appreciating the complexities of RGG relationships, especially in the case of the Arakawa's where for every party involved it really IS complicated)

I wanted to exclude making any definitive statements on things that couldn't be verified without making a detour on the original post (I know I already mentioned frequently that Arakawa is able to joke about Jo being 'softer' on Masato, but I do think about their relationship often and the implied depth of Jo's loyalty if- as you said- he was able to climb through the ranks of the Arakawa family much quicker than preexisting members), but there are clear points in the game that due allude to a great trust between the two (and I also note that carpooling detail during Ichi's flashback- or at the very least I know I'd find myself noticing Jo sitting in the back opposed to the front/driving). It's definitely not hard to assert that Jo knows Arakawa well either, it's hard not to come to that conclusion when we have evidence from the game to infer that.

[catssluvr]

𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒊𝒏𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒂𝒍, aaron hotchner

aaron hotchner x fem!reader (906 words)

in which you get a necklace with aaron’s initial and he’s absolutely whipped for you <3

warnings: none, clingy hotch :)

`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

One of your hands holds the generous amount of shopping bags, the other moves to unlock the door. You open it slowly, in case Jack's already asleep. It's just after dinner time but after all the plans Aaron and him had for today, you know he's probably fast asleep in his bed by now.

"Aaron?" You call out gently as you take off your shoes, immediately hearing his footsteps approaching. He appears seconds later, towel draped over his shoulder from doing the dishes.

"Hey, honey. How was shopping with the girls?" He asks with a small smile, leaning over to peck your lips before taking the bags from you and setting them down on the coffee table.

"Pretty good, got everything i needed to get. I also bought Jack a shirt." In your defence, it had a picture of his latest cartoon obsession. How could you resist it?

"You didn't have to." He takes a step towards you and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.

"I disagree." You retort, though you know he doesn't mind you buying thing for Jack. He's not your own, but he's your boy nevertheless. "Is he asleep?"

"Yeah, just put him to bed." Aaron moves to hold your face, leaving kisses all over you forehead. Barely getting to see you on his weekend off feels like some kind of torture and he has plans to not leave your side until Monday.

"Hm, can i go give him a goodnight kiss? Wanna leave his new shirt there so he wakes up to a surprise." You smile eagerly, chuckling at his false annoyed groan.

"Sure, hun. I'll finish the dishes and meet you upstairs." He answers, giving your back a soft tap as you rush to pick up the bag and run upstairs.

You pad into Jack's bedroom, kneeling besides his bed to kiss his forehead gently. Setting the bag at the end of his bed, you leave the room as silently as you came in.

You head to the bedroom that by now is just as yours as it's Hotch's. Gathering one of his shirts before entering the bathroom to get ready for bed.

When you come out, you're met with the sight of Aaron in only a shirt and boxers. Sitting against the headboard of the bed as he waits for you.

"How was your day?" You move under the covers to get comfortable while he starts listing all the activities him and Jack did today.

His hands move to massage your sore legs and you can't help but smile at his thoughtfulness. But they come to a stop once his gaze falls on the gold necklace peaking out from your shirt. He hooks a finger around it, pulling it out from it's hiding place.

Aaron eyes you curiously as it is now completely visible, a small 'A' adorning the middle of the necklace.

"What's this?" He asks, the answer quite evident but he can't get himself to believe it. He looks at you lovingly, brown eyes contrasting with yellow light and making your heart race.

"Oh, i saw it at store and it was too pretty not to get. Besides, you're a part of me and i wanted people to know it." You answer almost sheepishly, fingers playing with the fabric of his shirt. "It's also waterproof so i never have to take it off."

Aaron swears his heart might jump out of his chest. He knows you love him, he just didn't know it was this loudly. He hopes you never stop doing it.

He wonders what the best reaction to this would be, but he can't get himself to think about it too much before he's tugging you closer. Lips pressing against yours in a gentle kiss.

"I'll get one with yours." He mumbles a bit too seriously and you can't help but laugh.

"You don't wear necklaces, Aaron." You hold his face gently, making sure he knows you appreciate the suggestion anyway. You don't need him to get one too, you're content like this.

Aaron hums with a thoughtful expression, "I'll get it engraved on my watch then." He insists and you have to hold back another laugh at the way he raises his eyebrows trying to persuade you.

"Aaron." You try to sound stern but it's prove quite impossible when he kisses your cheek over and over again.

"How about on my handkerchief?"

"Please don't. We'll be looking like an old married couple." You tease with an affectionate smile.

"We could be." His answer is way more sweet than you expected it to be, heat rushing to your cheeks. He smiles at that and pulls you impossibly closer.

"Are you proposing, Hotchner?" You tease further, though your heart is beating wildly in your chest. He's way too nice.

"You think lowly of me." He plays along, his own smile never leaving his face.

Silence falls over you two for a moment and you take advantage of it to lay your head against his chest, relaxing at the sound of his heart beating against your ear.

"Thank you, seriously." Aaron mutters with a gentle squeeze on your shoulder and kiss against your hair.

"Don't bother." Your words come out a bit slurred, sleep starting to evade you. "Love you."

"I love you." He pulls the covers up to your shoulders. He makes note to start looking for rings before his own eyes fall shut.

`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

love you,

cat 🤍

[entitled-fangirl]

I'll always be thanking you.

Cregan Stark x wife!reader

Summary: The reader goes through postpartum depression after she gives him yet another girl. Cregan reassures her that he loves his daughters.

Warnings: postpartum depression, recovering from childbirth, sexist culture

Masterlist

A/n: it's a two fic kinda day

...............................................................................

It had happened so suddenly.

Cregan thought all was right in the world. Everything was set in place by the Old Gods as it should be. Everything was perfect.

But he knew that the last two pregnancies had been unkind to her, prompting a horrid depression after them that went on for months. But when it hadn't shown yet for this last one, he thought that perhaps it had stopped completely.

Until now.

He stepped into their chamber with a broad smile, lightly bouncing the two-year-old on his arm. Arya. She giggled with each one, the sound distorted with the force of the bounces. Witnessing the intimidating man turn soft for the little girl was entirely endearing. 

"Your mother is still in bed," he chipped lightly as he observed his wife covered by the furs they shared every night.

"She always in bed," Lyanna, their five year old said as she trailed behind them.

"Not always," Cregan corrected firmly. "She just gave us your new sister. It takes a long time for the body and mind to recover from something that great."

A small shaking of his wife's shoulders from her laying form in the bed caused him to worry slightly. "Lyanna, why don't you take your sister?"

She wanted to complain but knew better than to argue with her father. She took the toddler's hand and they walked out from the room.

Cregan's recovering wife laid in their bed, completely unmoving except for the small shoulder shake he'd seen. It was a quiver and it sent him on edge. She only ever did that when-

"Are you crying?" He whispered as he sat on the bed, her back to him.

Finally she turned. She had been awake the entire time. Her face was red from crying, the paths of her tears evident on her face. Her lips pouted down as she suppressed a sob.

Cregan was quick to comfort her. He practically laid his body over hers, keeping an arm around her to let her weep into his collarbone. And she did so.

He cooed every few moments, his free hand rubbing at her hair. The tears pained him almost as much as watching her endure the harsh labor only a two weeks before.

When the violent part of the crying was over, he pulled her face away to look at her. "Now," he caressed her cheek, "What is all this for?"

She sniffled and hiccuped between words. "It's just… just… Sarra."

His face fell. "Is something wrong with the babe?"

"No. It's just…" she caught her breath. "Another girl."

Cregan's head tilted. "It is," he reckoned. "What is the problem, my love?"

"Can I not give you a boy?" She whispered in fear of the answer.

Realization flooded Cregan. "You're doing nothing wrong," he assured. "I love my girls with all my heart. Did you want a boy this badly?"

"I just want you to be proud of me."

He visibly flinched. The thought of his postpartum wife crying over giving him a healthy baby was too much for him. "I'm proud of you. You've given me three girls now."

"But it's not a boy." Her eyes continually welled up with tears. "I was so sure it was a boy."

"Do you think me that shallow, dear wife?" He asked in a firm tone. "That I'd have you birth children until I got a boy?"

"Two," she corrected. "You need an heir and a spare and I-" her breath caught. "I cannot even give you one. A cursed womb-"

"Don't say that." His voice was a firm growl, his hand grabbing her jaw a bit harder than he meant to. "Do not say that."

A few tears ran down her cheeks.

Cregan forced a sigh and let his anger die down. He sat up a bit, giving her space. "Do you think that all I wanted in this world were two sons? Do you think that is all my heart desires?"

It was clear that she knew deep down how ridiculous she sounded. "Well-"

"-I've said it many times. What does my heart desire? Hmm? What brightens my day more than the sun?"

She let out a breath through her nose.

Cregan continued, tilting his head down to catch her gaze. "My wife and what? What else?"

"Your children," she whispered.

"Hm?" He asked, though he clearly heard it. He just wanted her to say it once again.

"Your children," she said a bit louder. 

He smiled. "Yes, our children." He tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. "Whether we had had one or you give me an army, I shall love them all until my remains in the crypt are long gone. Being a boy or girl doesn't change it."

"But… Winterfell-"

"-We'll deal with the succession when it is meant to happen. Until now, you're going to rest, and I'm going to spend time with our children. But I'm not going anywhere until you've done your part."

"The maester said it would take much longer to heal this time," she muttered. To herself or Cregan, she wasn't sure.

"That's alright. We've got all the time we need for now, don't we? No need to rush things."

"But the sooner we try-"

"-No-"

"-And Sarra was such a surprise-"

"-Stop-"

"-The next one could be sooner-"

"-Love," he said with a slightly raised voice. "When you're healed and ready to try once more, I will be eternally grateful. But I can wait a lifetime if I need to. I have all I need in the world already."

There was a small knock on the door. "Papa?"

No doubt it was Arya.

Cregan grinned and kissed his wife's temple before going to the door. In the doorway stood little Arya, her hair a sandy brown like Cregan's, her bright eyes like her mother. "What do you need?" It was a firm ask from him, but not one without care.

Arya had yet to say complete sentences yet, only a few  words here and there and the lord would be forced to try to make sense of them. She babbled about something and Cregan's brows raised, completely at a loss. "Um… I-"

"Here, darling," Y/n's soft voice came from behind Cregan as she walked to them. In her hand was Arya's doll that she had no doubt dropped earlier. It was a carefully sewn piece from Cregan's bastard sister, Sara, of whom the new babe was named after. "I see Aunt Sara got a new dress for her, hm?"

Arya grabbed the doll quickly from her mother and hugged the doll tightly. 

Cregan wrapped an arm around his wife. He wanted to scold her for getting up but he would refrain from that for now. "Aye. A very pretty dress," he tried to compliment. Cregan didn't know the first thing about sewing or doll making, or even the fashion of ladies, but he tried anyway to please his girls.

Arya's brows came together in clear confusion, prompting his wife to lightly elbow him. He gave a grunt and gawked.

"It's a battle dress," she spoke through her teeth. "It's a doll dressed like a female warrior."

He decided to go along with it, though he clearly didn't understand it. "I mean, what a very fierce dress. Seems very… protective."

Arya accepted that answer and held the doll out for Cregan to truly see. His gruff hand reached out and took the doll, bringing it up to his level to admire. His sister had done well with it, even he could see that. "So very pr-" he caught himself. "So very strong."

Arya jumped up to grab the doll and Cregan handed it back to her. The two parents watched her take off again like nothing had happened. 

"How'd you know what she wanted?" He asked his wife.

She rubbed at her tired eyes, ignoring the slight ache in her thighs. "She said so. Didn't you hear it?"

"We have three lovely girls and I still have so much to learn," he remarked, amusement oozing from his voice.

She gave a tired grin at that. She began leaning more into him than before and he held her hips taught. "Now," he remarked, "to bed with you."

"Sarra might need me-"

"-I'll check on Sarra."

"And Lyanna was hoping to play outside-"

"-I'll see to it."

"And Arya-"

"-What of Arya?" He asked quietly.

She paused. "I- She always needs something."

He let out a deep chuckle, guiding her back to the bed. "I'll see to it all. I promise you. I can be a father, whether you believe that or not."

She hummed. "I do."

"Alright. Then let me." He kissed her cheek, his scruff rubbing at her skin. "We'll get you in bed."

"Can the girls visit later?" 

He couldn't deny those bright eyes of hers. The same ones each of his girls inherited. It was his one weakness. "After you sup, then yes. But that is in a few hours."

Relief and excitement pulled at her shoulders, a comforting feeling washing over her. "Thank you."

As he tucked her back into the bed, he smiled at her. "Don't thank me. You've given me everything. I'll always be thanking you."

................................................

Taglist: @twinkletwinklenotastar @kidd3ath @yujyujj @misswynters @cosmosnkaz @sithapprentice @kaniromi @lovemesomevesey @its-jackie-bb @thorins-queen-of-erebor @kingdomzeldaquest @nyxbranwenn @callsignwidow @a1lexh-blog @alyssa-dayne @ethereal-athalia @ashovertheriver @lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom @dozcan123 @wangjiangelangel @kamitargaryen @aegonswife @lv7867 @helpmedecideaname @cherryheairt @classicsimpforaaronwarner

[rafecameronssl4t]

arranged marriage au reader where her postpartum depression is so bad. where she barley picks at her plate, and when the doctors check in on her , they scold her for not keeping healthy for the baby to feed off her. and it’s to the point where rafe has to leave a trip early bc it’s so bad

You know I'll come || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

A/n: incase you didn't read it before, make sure you read my important notice!!!

Warnings: ppd, angst, mention of fainting

Word count: 2,114

MASTERLIST (forced marriage au masterlist)

divider by @h-aewo

“Y/n, you can’t keep doing this to yourself,” James said with a sympathetic sigh, his gaze fixed on the monitor while you sat on the lounge, your eyes glazed over as you stared blankly at the coffee table. The room was eerily quiet, save for the soft hum of the monitor and the occasional rustle of Anita’s movements as she adjusted the blanket draped over your lap.

“This is the third time you’ve passed out this week. You were lucky Anita was there to catch you before you could have seriously injured yourself.” James exchanged a concerned look with Anita, who stood close by with a worried expression. The gentle, almost maternal way Anita fussed over you spoke volumes about her deep concern.

“You must eat. Your body needs proper nourishment, not just for yourself but for Leo as well.” At the mention of your son, your eyes flickered up from the table, the name ‘Leo’ momentarily pulling you from your daze. “Where is he?” you asked, your voice barely more than a whisper as you attempted to sit up, only to be gently restrained by James.

“Leo is asleep,” Anita said softly, her tone soothing. She moved closer, her hand resting lightly on your shoulder as if to offer reassurance. James continued, his voice gentle but insistent, “Rafe has been informed of your condition and has decided to come home early. He’ll be arriving tomorrow morning.”

Your eyes widened in surprise, the confusion evident on your face. “Rafe isn’t supposed to be here until Friday,” you said, your voice tinged with disbelief as you tried to process the unexpected news. “Rafe is aware of how unwell you are right now. He deemed it necessary to return home early,” James explained, his tone gentle but firm.

Your mouth parted in a silent response, the weight of the news settling heavily on your shoulders. James continued gently, “But for now, you should rest. Take these, they’ll help you sleep.” He extended a small container of medicine towards you. With a grateful nod, you accepted the tablets, feeling their cool, smooth surface against your fingertips.

You placed them in your mouth and swallowed, the slight bitterness leaving a fleeting aftertaste. As the medicine began to take effect, James and Anita exchanged a look of quiet concern. The room felt heavy with the unspoken tension of your fragile state, and the soft rustling of the blanket seemed to amplify the stillness. You leaned back, letting the exhaustion overtake you, the weight of the day’s events and Rafe’s imminent arrival already beginning to blur into the dim haze of impending sleep.

~

"Mr. Cameron, there’s news from Mr. Berkeley concerning your wife," Kate’s voice broke the quiet atmosphere of the plane as she approached Rafe, her iPad in hand. She hesitated for a moment, gauging his mood, knowing that any news related to you could quickly shift his temper. Rafe looked up from his laptop, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly, already bracing for the worst.

"What’s happened now?" His tone was clipped, the edge in his voice betraying the unease that simmered beneath his composed exterior. Kate took a breath, her fingers gripping the iPad a little tighter. "Mrs. Cameron fainted for the third time this week while walking down the stairs—" Before she could finish, Rafe’s expression darkened, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade.

"Is she injured? Is Leo okay?" His words, though direct, held an unmistakable undertone of worry that he barely managed to suppress. Kate glanced up from her iPad, her eyes meeting his with cautious reassurance. "No, sir. Y/n isn’t injured, and Leo wasn’t with her at the time." A small, almost imperceptible sigh escaped Rafe as he leaned back in his seat, his hand moving to rub his temples.

The initial wave of panic subsided, but the underlying concern remained, gnawing at him. He closed his laptop with a resounding thud, the noise loud in the otherwise still cabin. "And this is because she isn’t eating well?" he asked, his voice flat but laced with frustration. "Yes, sir. Mr. Berkeley mentioned that Y/n has been struggling to finish her meals," Kate explained, her tone professional yet careful, aware of how delicate the situation had become.

Rafe scoffed, shaking his head in exasperation. "Of course she is," he muttered under his breath, his frustration bubbling to the surface. He stood abruptly, the tension in his body clear as his jaw tightened, hands flexing at his sides. The weight of responsibility, of having to constantly manage his wife’s well-being, pressed down on him. The sound of the plane’s engine hummed softly in the background, creating a quiet that felt too heavy, too filled with thoughts he didn’t want to dwell on.

His thoughts raced, caught between his commitments and the deepening worry that had taken root. Rafe’s decision was swift. "Tell Anthony to turn this plane around. We’re going back to Kildare." Kate blinked, momentarily taken aback by the sharpness of his command. "But, sir—" she began, her voice hesitant. "Did you not hear what I said?" Rafe snapped, his tone cold and commanding now. His patience, already thin, was gone. "Tell him to turn this plane around. Now." His blue eyes, usually so controlled, flashed with intensity as he stared her down.

Kate swallowed hard, nodding quickly before turning on her heel and making her way to the cockpit without another word. The weight of his anger, his concern for you, and the complicated web of their marriage hung in the air even after she left. Rafe stood there for a moment, alone in the silence. His fists clenched as he stared out the window at the endless expanse of sky, his mind already filled with thoughts of what awaited him back home.

~

"Where is she?" Rafe's voice echoed sharply through the grand foyer as he shrugged off his blazer, his tone tense but controlled. Anita, always efficient and poised, was quick to take his suitcase from his hand. "She’s currently asleep on the sofa. Mr. Berkeley just left a couple of minutes ago," Anita informed him, her voice soft, trying to keep the atmosphere calm.

Rafe nodded, his expression tight as they walked deeper into the house, the weight of the past week’s events evident in his stride. "How is she?" he asked, his voice dropping to a quieter, almost hesitant tone. His usual composure was cracking, revealing the concern he so rarely let show. Anita glanced up at him, catching the rare flicker of vulnerability in his face.

A small, knowing smile tugged at her lips, sensing the subtle change in his demeanor. "She’s doing better. She ate a full meal last night and this morning," she replied, her words laced with reassurance. Rafe’s shoulders visibly relaxed at the news, though only slightly. "Good," he murmured, more to himself than to her.

As they reached the living room, the soft flicker of the TV caught his attention. The sound of cartoon characters filled the room, a stark contrast to the heavy emotions swirling inside him. Rounding the corner of the sofa, his eyes landed on you—fast asleep, curled up with the blanket tucked around you. Your exhaustion was evident, your face peaceful but pale.

However, Leo was wide awake, his small hands reaching out as he lay nestled beside you. Rafe's heart softened at the sight of his son, so innocent and oblivious to the storm brewing around him. Gently, Rafe scooped Leo up into his arms, cradling him with a tenderness that few ever saw. He pressed a kiss to Leo’s cheek, the gesture instinctive, as if grounding himself in the quiet moment.

Without a word, he turned off the TV, silencing the cartoons as the room fell into a soft hush. For a moment, Rafe stood there, holding Leo, his eyes drifting back to you, wondering how things had reached this point—his life so far from what he’d imagined, and yet, here he was, tethered to this quiet moment with you and Leo, torn between frustration, duty, and something he wasn’t ready to admit.

Rafe gently pulled the blanket further up your body, his fingers brushing the soft fabric as he ensured you were as comfortable as possible. For a moment, he lingered, his gaze softening as he watched you sleep, the rise and fall of your chest steady and peaceful. There was a quiet vulnerability about you now that tugged at something deep inside him—a feeling he didn’t often allow himself to dwell on.

With a quiet sigh, he turned away, careful not to wake you. As he walked toward the door, he called out, “Anita?” Anita appeared almost instantly, her usual calm and attentive presence filling the room. “Yes, Mr. Cameron?” she asked, her voice respectful but warm. “Have the chef prepare Y/n’s favourite meals,” he instructed, his tone firm yet carrying an unspoken urgency. “I want her to be eating properly, no excuses.”

His gaze flicked back to you for a second, as though making sure you were still resting soundly. Anita nodded, understanding the weight behind his words. “Of course, sir. I’ll take care of it immediately.” Satisfied, Rafe adjusted Leo in his arms, holding him close as he glanced back at you one last time before stepping out of the room. “Leo and I will be outside by the pool,” he added, his voice a little quieter now, as if the tension from earlier had begun to ebb slightly.

Anita nodded again, watching as Rafe walked away, his steps quiet and measured, the sound of Leo’s soft babbling accompanying him as they made their way toward the open terrace. There, Rafe hoped the fresh air and the familiar comfort of home might bring him some clarity as he processed everything—his thoughts still tethered to you even as he tried to focus on his son.

~

Feeling a gentle hand on his shoulder, Rafe looked up, surprised to see you standing beside him. The colour had returned to your cheeks, and there was a small but genuine smile on your face. For a brief moment, relief softened his usually guarded expression. “How are you feeling?” he asked quietly, careful not to disturb Leo, who was napping peacefully on his chest.

You offered him another soft smile, walking around to sit on the lounge chair beside him. Your eyes lingered on the still waters of the pool, the calm reflection contrasting with the heaviness in the air. “I’m fine,” you replied, though your gaze remained fixed ahead. Rafe’s eyes stayed on you, his expression stern, not easily convinced by your words. “Did you eat?”

His tone was sharp, but there was an undercurrent of concern that you couldn’t ignore. You nodded slowly, though the hesitation in your movement gave away the effort it took. “I’m sorry you had to cut your trip short—” you began, wanting to apologise for the disruption, but Rafe quickly cut you off. “Don’t.” His voice was firm, leaving no room for further apologies.

He pressed a light kiss to the top of Leo’s head, his eyes briefly softening as he did so. “There’s no excuse for you to not eat,” he continued, his voice hardening again, as though the frustration he’d been holding back was finally spilling out. You looked at him, studying his side profile as he avoided your gaze.

His jaw was clenched, tension radiating from him, but it wasn’t the anger that struck you—it was the concern buried beneath it. You knew this dynamic between you, this mixture of obligation and care, was a complicated dance neither of you had perfected. Your fingers absentmindedly twisted the ring on your finger, a physical reminder of the ties that bound you both. “At least Leo is doing okay,” Rafe muttered, his voice softening as he made eye contact with you.

“That’s all that matters.” But the moment the words left his lips, he saw the shift in your expression. There was something in your eyes—an unspoken sadness, a flicker of something deeper that you kept buried. You swallowed hard, forcing down the lump in your throat. “Of course,” you replied, your voice steady despite the weight in your chest. You stood up slowly, your body feeling heavier than it had a moment ago.

“I’ll head back inside,” you murmured, already turning to leave. Rafe watched you move, the silence between you thick and uncomfortable. He opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but the words seemed to stick in his throat. Instead, he refocused on Leo’s sleeping form, his hand gently cradling his son’s small body as the feeling of missed opportunity settled heavily around him.

[monicahar]

“what are you doing?”

you comically cower behind his back even further.

“hiding.”

“...why?”

“because there's a flipping lion in the room with us, JING YUAN. that's what.” you snap back angrily.

if you're wondering how you got into this predicament—it's not that far from being akin to a kidnapper leading on a child with sweets and delicacies.

under the guise of work and a few promised cuddles, he had made you follow his steps into his home—now with you glued to his body like it's your own lifeline. the snow-white lion snugly lies down by the only exit of the room you're both occupying—having just introduced herself when it came to jing yuan for a few pets, scaring the bejeebers out of you when its fur had grazed the back of your thighs all of a sudden.

the lion only shows confusion yet complies when jing yuan coaxed her to go away for a few moments. in other words—for you to take a breather.

in response to your much evident suffering and growing impatience, a mirthful laugh escapes him, craning his head to look at you over his shoulder to throw you a small mischievous grin “it's just my cat. i don't see the problem.”

“that's fully grown lion, you scoundrel!” you hit his back weakly, whisper-yelling as if said lion would attack you if you spoke any louder. “a-ah...it's looking at me weirdly. it's definitely thinking of how delicious i am!”

“mimi is very gentle. i doubt she's thinking of such a thing.”

you sink further in his shadow when the lion catches your wary gaze with a tilt of its head. “jing, please. it may like you, but i doubt that a territorial species would enjoy having a stranger around its person bubble.”

“you're free to leave anytime, darling. i'm not forcing you to stay.” he says coyly.

“with how your adorable little mimi is standing right by the door—i doubt i can leave of my own accord.”

“so you think she's adorable? good to hear that.” oh, now he has selective hearing?

“jing yuan. please.” you kneel down and tug on his robes pleadingly, catching him off guard to the point he has now decided to fully turn towards you in mild surprise. “i really don't know how to deal with this! i don't dislike her or anything, i'm just super scared that she won't like me and would—”

“calm down.” your lover couches down before you, hand raising to pat your head. “she doesn't bite. i promise.”

“how are you so sure?” you question incredulously, ignoring the way your heartbeat quickens at his actions. “even if she's domesticated, she's still an animal that thrives on her own survival instincts.”

“dearest, would i really have taken in a pet if it was openly feral?”

“yep. you would.” you reply in a heartbeat.

his eye twitches in return.“ahem—okay, so as i was saying,” standing up to his full height, he stretches out a hand towards you, staring at you softly as he does so. “we both know i adore delicate and gentle things, [name]. mimi is exactly that—hence why i didn't mind taking her in and burdened you with meeting her.”

you raise a brow. he shrugs, opting to resign upon your obvious reluctance on the matter.

“truthfully, i wished to see my two favourite companions to bond and get along with my own two eyes,” he heaves an apologetic huff, a tad bit disappointed whilst you only stare in surprise, “but if you're really uncomfortable with it then i suppose i shouldn't force you.”

he helps you up with ease when you finally put your hand on his, hastily padding off the dust that was caught in your clothes upon kneeling down.

grasping your hand comfortingly to calm your nerves, you hate that it work flawlessly upon his touch.

“let's go?”

you were about to nod—until your gaze catches the lion's once more.

...pretty eyes.

snowmoon.

your heart clenches at the realisation.

“on second thought...” you trail off, watching as the mammal sits up in anticipation at your eye contact. jing yuan raises a brow at you, “i think i'll try interacting with her.”

he huffs out a deep chuckle, “really, you don't have to—”

“mimi?” you call out, leaning sideways to look past behind your lover's tall figure. he does the same, turning his head over his shoulder to look at the same direction you're fixated on.

the lion perks up, and starts walking towards you. you grin, but not before whispering back to jing yuan,

“if she actually bites me, we're breaking up.”

“no promises.”

you finally pat the lion's head after about an hour of excessive whining it'll bite you, finally havin found the courage to actually see it as a mere domesticated cat whilst glaring daggers at the owner.

“mimi...attack that bad guy.” you point at him, face still looking smug as ever.

“she won't listen to y—” said lion pounces on him.

idek what this is fiakehwjbsksbw i cant write no more man,,,,*/proceeds to make another jingyuan drabble in google doc

[gangplanksorenji]

Clandestine

Pairing: NewJeans’ Danielle x Male Reader

Word Count: 6,000

A/N: Hello Orenjideul! This is probably the last fic I'll be writing and releasing this year because I'm getting occupied with my own endeavors. This is purely 97% a BFH fic because this Dani look is killing me.................. (god, that waist) Enjoy reading it! <3

---------------------

---------------------

“Try and keep it secretive, please.”

Those words define what’s the goal—mouths shut, all within yourselves.

You’ve been living your life on the edge, playing with fire and Danielle is the gasoline that keeps igniting it and it piques you, delving for more. It’s scary, outrageous to the very least but in the greater perspective, it’s blissful and fun and that’s what matters at the end of the day.

Try, like what’s stated. It’s ultimately the goal and you’d revolve around that single word every damn time.

You have a reputation to protect, and it’s all in the means of Danielle because a single mistake can bear a scarring loss, because she has everything to lose and you’re to blame if it were to happen (the latter is speaking in hypothetical terms).

“Can’t wait, hm?” Your eyes gaze towards her, plastering a faint smile as you continue to pepper her neck with kisses that felt too euphoric on Danielle’s end.

“Ahh—how can I wait?” Her moans bless your ear, and you absolutely take that as an affirmative with her delight. She knows on herself that you’re insatiable and she hates it—temptation breaking as the both of you are speaking, and she’s feeling every ounce of your energy all over her skin.

Her hands roam around your body, feeling your kisses get herself acting up and writhing under your control. You turn, tilt her chin to face you and all you can see is a visage worth an awe. “You’re so goddamn pretty, Dani.”

These compliments just ignited the utter bliss she feels, lips curling into a smile of sincerity adding up to her impeccable beauty that no one can rival. You rest your nose onto her neck, then peppering it all over again as your hands handle her with care and the absolute ambition to let her know how much you adore her.

“You—you’re kissing me so, so good…” Danielle’s accent is candy to your ears, and you’re just replying with more intimacy. Her hands find the hem of your shirt, dexterous fingers lifting it as her primal instincts kick in until your hands hinders her advances.

Danielle whimpers, a hot breath brushing against your ear as you locked eyes onto hers. “Not yet, Dani.”

A visible pout by your sunshine, and immediately, you’re captivated but not enough to break the façade. “B-But why? Oh…”

Patience is what she needs, and as selfish as this sounds, your needs would be the priority for fulfillment.

Like what’s stated at the beginning  you’ve been living at the edge with her and thankfully, there’s no instance enough to bear such a result that would crumble a reputation. It’s just not helping where you’d be damned to live if ever Hanni catches you with such mess with Danielle and it’s doubled down with Minji—you’d be gone for good, that’s for sure, but Danielle has this hold against them that wouldn’t let you go and stick this risky relationship that could bear a scarring demise.

But who cares about that now? Not when her figure is all for your eyes to drool upon, in full display with her pants and that shirt curled into a crop top unleashing something within you—she looks unreal, sculpted to perfection as the outfit accentuates her undying hotness, a gift for you to admire and lastly, savor.

Your hands roam around that tiny waist of hers, abs flexing with your enervating touch that earns faint, sultry moans escaping her lips. You caress it and she continues her vocalization, ceaseless with your aims of adoring every inch.

“God, this fit—” Your power was evident, pulling her towards you as she gasped with your domination, and then smiled as she anticipated. “—is insane. I never thought you could be any hotter.”

It’s true, factual even, because numerous people would agree to you on how hot she looks with these kinds of fits. It does help knowing how she’s cognizant to push your buttons, and with just the tip of the iceberg, you melt and those eyes of yours tell a story.

“I knew you’d love this.” Danielle’s expressions smoulders a little, her face contorting confidence as she knows how she’s your kryptonite, and it’s mutual—even if it’s ego-driven, you can’t deny the fact that she’s alluring and you love her confidence because she knows she’s fucking hot.

You’ve seen multiple cases on the Internet, ever-so-liked within the people in various social media platforms sharing Danielle’s impeccable figure and the raises alongside it. You’re glad you’re in the first row of her show, always hitting and selfish because it’s all for you eyes to see—only you. Her fragrant smell hypnotizes you and it’s effective, luring you in and investing in more efforts into worshiping her. Kisses, suckles and licks is her threshold, currently shivering with the pleasure you give her as her ragged moans are enough for a conclusion. 

“God—please, stop…” You stop once she calls your name again, hoarse, feeling that she can’t possibly handle the way you’re treating her—you assume she’s more sensitive with you and nothing else. You’re visibly puzzled, lingering that assumption within you as you’re vocal enough to address her sudden words to feed off against her needs.

“Anything wrong, Dani?”

“I—” Her lips are quivering, hands fiddling the hem of her shirt as her doe eyes invite you to listen, and you're all ears for that. “—want this.”

You know where she’s going with this as her hands run down to your pants and near the vicinity of your nether regions and god, her fingers alone would make your beast stand up in vigor. Your hands hold hers, guiding her through the zipper as your other hand finds its way onto the valet of her curves, teasing the skin of her spine that’s enough to make her release a dulcet moan towards your lips. “How do you want it, hm?”

Your voice is alluring, predominantly teasing as the last hm signifies your interest. Danielle just moans with your repeated touches, and she’s barely coherent and mostly mumbling, what more if you're going a level further? “Can’t quite hear you, baby.”

You’re now pinning her against the wall, you weight pressing against her slightly as you eyes then face her and begged, “Just kiss me first, please.”

That please of hers was so lovely and sincere you can’t afford to lose this opportunity. You were surprised with Danielle’s initiative, cupping your cheeks as she pulled you in for a kiss and you quickly reciprocated. The sloppy sounds and the sultry moans escaping your lips signals the deprivation, and it’s all fulfilling every second that passes.

Her lips are soft and you won’t get exhausted kissing those all day, even if it means your own lips to be numb. It’s sweet and hers is torrid, the exchange heating up the permeated humidity she exuded just by herself and she’s just igniting it all throughout.

“Kissing me so good, Dani…”

“Can’t blame that you taste great.” Danielle spits the truth, her lips curling up on a smirk as she bites her lip, currently in this state of need and her face alone just lit the fire inside your heart. “Now I need this.”

She cups the apparent bulge, visibly poking onto the fabric of your pants as her daring advancements makes you utter a faint moan in which she chuckled, a victory in her possession.

“Getting too bold, are we?” It’s straightforward and lustful, and definitely, you like it. 

You’re not going to introduce the necessities for foreplay and more, and with the lust growing inside you that’s matching hers, you’ll let her do what she’s great at and with a single command, reply with immediate compliance. “Drop down to your knees, baby.”

It felt like her knees faltered, dropping down with a thud onto the cold floor as her hands then found its way onto the edge of your pants, tugging them and licking her lips in anticipation. Now loosened up, she pulls them down and lets gravity do the work, making a puddle of your clothing onto your ankles. She’ll steal glances towards you while working her wonders, and the contradicting natures of the sight just below your waist sends you into overdrive—her gleeful yet seductive smile covers up to the sins that he’s about to do, and it’s aligning all too well.

“God, I’ve never done this for a while…” Danielle’s tone permeates that self-doubt since it’s factual, marking maybe months until she’d indulged herself into something like this and it doesn’t help with the group’s busy schedules and everything that’s making their time occupied prior to this.

You tilt her head, facing towards you as her eyes meet yours, and you reassure her. “You’re a natural, Dani—besides, just let yourself be what you are.”

Let herself be, and ultimately, she knows that it’s always what she is in situations like this. Letting the doubt aside and her hunger to take over, she impatiently yanked your boxers down, joining it onto the puddle of worthless clothing down to your ankles. Danielle’s eyes glimmer with that lingering captivation as soon as the beat inside you unshackles from its clothed prison, almost hitting her in the face as it stands tall and stiff, waiting for her touch to enchant it.

She coos, hot breath within that reddish crown and you moan because of it. “Still a-as monstrous as I remembered.”

The teases probably get into you (even though her tone laces with sincerity), uttering a laugh as her lips part, a pout on display, gently kissing the leaking slit and her hands roaming around your base and onto those balls she always loves to taste. Of course, the sunshine descends down into the darkest sins, carnally worshiping your cock with an eager suck to collect that liquid you’re leaking and the profound spit that she lathers all around your length. You doesn’t leave any inch untouched with her lips and sheathed with her saliva, as her attention averts down to your balls and plays with it, her hands pumping you with a leisure pace that’s enough to wring that pleasure you’re always seeking.

“Looking great so far?” Your legs are probably viable to give out, knees shuddering as her touch sends you into the abyss of gratification. She knows the answer to such a rhetorical question, living up with the compliment you withdrew earlier and it’s factual, she's naturally skilled. “You know the answer to that, Dani—fuck…”

She replies with her tongue now dancing around your throbbing cock, her snug mouth encapsulating half of your length as she eagerly bobbed, up and down, and no stopping. Your hand finds its way onto her messy bun, tied upright with a clip and you could just let yourself feel every ounce of pleasure being brought by Danielle. 

It was hurried, ephemerally increasing the pace as her mouth gets messier, her own saliva seeping out of her mouth supports the fact. You kept moaning and it invigorates her for more, until she knows she;s approaching her limit.

She gagged and immediately pulled out, and your mouth just showered her with compliments and those eyes of her shine with your approval. “You’re incredibly gifted, god…”

“Can’t help it tastes really, really good, daddy.” The name, the word, god, she knows what buttons to push against you. 

She always does, in most cases and you’re here to indulge with the fact that she’s controlling you slowly. You would give in to her dominant nature against your cock but here, you still stand and it’s contradicting—you’re nowhere near being precarious, and you’ll take that heavenly mouth of her anyday (like you would resist it).

She voiced out your insatiability, impaling her mouth with your own length and bobbed frantically, her immediate actions sending your sensitivity onto the roof and so is the pleasure. She treats your succulence like it’s her favorite popsicle, sucking onto every inch of it and savoring the flavor that’s probably inviting her more roughness and you could feel it.

“God, Dani—shit!” You’re unable to utter coherent sentences as you’re involuntarily shouting out the pleasure she brings, and you could look down and see that smile printed onto her lips, even with a mouthful of your length. You caress her cheeks, run your fingers through her dark-colored locks that’s messy enough to compliment the disarray of her doings. 

Here it comes, those eyes of hers locking onto yours, so innocently-looking with the scintillations telling a story full of her wonders and with those very eyes of hers, you’re hypnotized. Her pace never falters, almost pumping her head and kissing your base everytime she buries her throat full of your length, and it almost makes your foundations meet its crumbling outcomes. Her gags are apparent, jerking her head onto you but she fights, because she wants to deliver the utmost pleasure you deserve and with that determination, you’re absolutely going to reward her.

The inevitable is bound to happen, as she ejects onto your saliva-sheathed length, strings of her drool connecting onto her lips and your tip, marking her shirt and soaking so little of it and she catches her breath, chest heaving with what she’d done. “G-God—oh, I—”

“Hey—you did fucking amazing, holy shit…” You’re vulgar and bold, and she doesn’t mind it because it’s mutual when you did your own oral expertise onto her—possibly no one heard her swear so much as ever before whenever you eat her out, and it’s a concealing fact that’s only exclusive between the both of you.

Her lips, swollen and pink, shiver with the sin she has done but she never regretted it, and instantly becomes gleeful once your praise is registered within her. “All for you, daddy.”

Of course it is, and she was giving her hundred percent with every second of this opportunity. There’s still a soft heart within you, consulting her as your eyebrows furrowed, subtly worried. “Are you okay, though?”

“Hah… yes, daddy—I just want more of this cock.” She’s a little exasperated from such an impressive act she’d done to you, and her smiles reassures you and with the eagerness of her livid strokes says a lot. 

Danielle holds onto your rod with a vice grip, tight enough for more moans to escape your lips as her lips find its way onto your tip, lapping up the scrumptious taste that she’s addicted to. It was evident, utterly in need for you as she didn’t build up a pace slowly for yourself to get used to, and did the opposite. The pace counts for your release, and it’s evident with the way she’s doing everything in her power to inch you closer to her deserved reward. She takes more than half of you and fondled your balls, earning the sultriest and knee-shuddering moans that urges her for more.

You avert your eyes down, and she’s occupied with your cock, hammering her mouth with it and hollowing her cheeks whenever she feels wringing out the best gratification she can muster. She’s closing her eyes, feeling every inch of you until the back of her throat, gags following and you persistently throbbed in reply with that. She tames it and you admire it, fighting the urge to release her vice grip around your length.

Your eyes then drool all over her impeccable figure, even when she’s down onto her knees—the perfectly sculpted curves of her waist to her hips while her head fades onto the sight with a bobbing blur just ignites the thought of ruining her.

You're lost under her spell, and you wanted to see those beautiful eyes of hers, as she does what she’s best at. Lifting her chin up with your index finger, you gulp and give in to your desires. “Look at me when you're sucking me off, Dani.”

She obliges as she meets your gaze, your face contorting slightly with the pleasure as her ruined visage is enough to know how much she’s enjoying it.

It’s the same cacophonous sounds that deafens your ear with, the same music you won’t get tired of listening if it means to make Danielle feel the delight she always deserves—the concoction of slurps, gags and sloppy sounds are the things at the tip of the iceberg.

Her pace increases, and now, your hands find her hair again as an outlet against the ultimate pleasure she brings, drilling into her mouth deeper without your awareness, balls slapping against her chin due to her breakneck pace. You would want to prolong the dopamine rush within your veins, but the curtain calls out to a painful denouement tha would conclude the first part of an exquisite show she’s laid upon between your legs.

The throbs are persistent, and she doesn’t have a plan to pull out and you have your own desires that’s ready to be fulfilled.

“I’m close—c-can’t hold it anymore—” You gulp right after, breaths uneven as the both of you are just savoring every second, eyes closed and yearning for more. You assess every pump her mouth does, how tight and pleasurable it is and you can’t absolutely hold it anymore until something disturbed the force of things.

A loud pop is what you’ve heard, and you can just see Danielle stroking your messy length with the fastest velocity her wrists can muster, and it just earned more moans from you. “I’ve always wanted to do this, daddy…”

You know where this is going, lips curling up a smirk and pretending to be oblivious. “Do what, exactly?”

You can feel the familiar tingle within your groin, and it’s only a matter of seconds before the inevitable paints her white. “Add up to the mess I made myself, daddy.”

“Open wide, Dani.” She does as she's told to, releasing the grip that almost strangled your length and did it yourself. 

That sullied countenance of hers is a sight to cherish, savor every second and every detail on how messy and beautiful she has become as everything concludes down to the most important act. 

You groan and point it where it belongs, a pretty canvas painted white as every inch is possibly covered with how thick your load is. Every spurt hits the features where everyone leaves with an awe, living up to the words she let go of and you did just that. Nose, cheeks, forehead, mouth and even her neck—it’s incredibly lucky how none of your load got up to her clothing, possibly writing the script of just ruining what’s just worth defiling.

If these walls could just talk, you hope they wouldn’t say anything because you will be damned if anyone catches the both of you doing such unforgiving sin.

Her lips quiver, still kneeling down as she grips your stiff cock, stroking it leisurely and then inviting you with a gleeful smile that possibly refutes the sinful sight, faking the convincing innocence. 

Those eyes of her pleads, and there her dulcet voice goes and you know you can’t turn her requests down. “May I clean your cock, daddy?”

You cup her cheek, maintaining that eye contact as your fingers trace the cum you left onto her, and then directing it onto those soft, kissable lips of hers that’s known for an abundance of talents. It was agonizing with the way you trace her features, and she suckles onto your fingers needily like she hasn't sucked the life out of you just a minute ago. She closes her eyes, relishing and humming in satisfaction with the taste she’s longing to lay her taste buds on.

You pulled out and earned a whine, and then replied with a jovial approach. “No one’s stopping you.”

No one is, and not even herself. 

Her lips parts against your engorged tip, tongue swirling around it and tidying up the mess she made. It’s sensitive and it’s the guilty pleasure—it’s slightly making you turn on even more, pushing your limits and as well as the buttons for your lust. 

“You’re fucking gifted, Dani.”

It’s these small admirations of her actions that urges her to complacency, but giving everything that she got up her sleeve. Her mouth swirls around and it and eventually, she pulls out and stares at you, reeking that anticipation that lingering within her because she knows you’re not done with her.

Once she pulls out, she remains on her knees, and you take the opportunity to scoop out the cum that stained her heavenly-sinful face, directing it onto her mouth and cleans it repeatedly. It’s nearly cleaned up, but nowhere near the finish line as the both of you are just getting started, and you’re vocalizing your frustrations evidently yet nowhere near hostile.

“Get up, Dani.” She obliges with your command, your feet kicking the clothing and deeming it useful and the sunshine that gleams innocence brews a storm, and you know she’s ready for phase two.

“Dying to be balls deep inside me, daddy?” Of course you fucking are, and she’s just asking that to rile you up and it’s effective, cock twitching up in the air as soon as she let go of such sinful words.

She knows you, and it’s just making things worse in the right ways.

Danielle’s face is just inches away from you, and you’re just dying to get that feeling of her utter tightness. You grew impatient, controlling her lithe frame with a grab on her waist, and let herself face the wall and her arms resting on it as well. She gasps with your roughness towards her, chuckling a little as she wants this kind of treatment and she deserves it. A wiggle of her petite ass invites you to just undress her bottom half, but you would admire the hourglass figure she possesses, every inch of her curves urging you to defile the living life out of her.

You deeply adore her with all your heart, unable to hurt her but whenever she invites you to be one, you wouldn’t waste the opportunity and give in to your carnal desires.

Your hands roam to her clothed butt, feeling the softness of it and how it’s perfectly sculpted and all too right. Unable to deprive yourself of such a sight, you wrap your arms around her hips, undressing her pants and unshackling her heating slit and there it goes, all for you to feast upon.

“You promised to be rough, right, daddy?” She looks over her shoulder, tone laced with high expectations as a moans follows, feeling the cold air brush against her skin. 

“If that’s what you wanted—” The restraint is now onto her ankles, then off to somewhere in the vicinity. Your eyes meeting the last bit that conceals your grand prize, but it didn’t come without a reverberating sound that earned the sexiest moans Danielle could muster. “—I’m not thinking a single thought of giving you mercy.”

Fuck, she unleashed the monster within you, and it’s all for her to take.

It wasn’t just one, but a barrage of slaps onto her petite ass, making her writhe a little and her arms shaking with the pain and pleasure you’re treating her. You mark it red, imprinted with your hands before stopping and she whines, knowing the best is yet to be introduced. 

It was another moan that escaped her lips, and with the last bit of defense down and destined to be useless, you know she’s up for a show.

“Da—oh god, daddy!” Danielle whimpers once she feels you, going deeper and earning more moans that made her body shudder with the gratification. You plunge not too deep inside her, and immediately, you are met with an overwhelming tightness that puts you in the same boat as hers in correlation with the profanities you both voice out. You grab her hips and her waist, drawing herself closer to you as she’s barely standing on her ground with your control, and you’re just within the tip of the iceberg in terms of your pace.

You give herself a breathing space, but Danielle’s plans weren't in accordance with yours, her voice coarse yet still, surprisingly sweet that urges you for more.

“More, daddy—f-fuck me harder!” Your hips increase your velocity, the initial speed of it sending her thighs in a recoil with your harshness, drilling deeper and withdrawing repeatedly that’s enough to fuck her up, senseless. Somehow, she’s even coherent to articulate words, urging you for more and yearning for you to go deeper.

“Fuck—oh my fucking god, more—aw!”

“God, you’re just so tight, aren’t you, hm?” You’re pumping her like you’re marking up your dominance against her, and it’s fulfilled, now filling her up to the brim. You marvel with her unparalleled tightness, hugging your length like it’s suffocating it and repeatedly groaning because of it. With her repetitive pleas, comes resonating spanks that just makes her leak more of that nectar, creating that wetness that runs down in rivulets on her thighs. She’s creating puddles down onto the floor due to your own rough endeavors into her pussy, legs shaking and rippling in every thrust you do that sends her into overdrive.

You’d bet she’s seeing stars right now, the reason is stated as follows: withdrawing with just the crown inside and then slamming back into her, balls deep, just right for her to delve down onto lustful, high-pitched screams that voices the overwhelming pleasure running down her veins.

This is not great, and with a harsh spank, you retort at her and make sure she’s unable to do it again. “Quiet down, Dani—you’re gonna get us in trouble.”

If it’s ever the case, then the both of you probably are. The suspicious noises are just enough for someone outside to check out what’s with the pandemonium of noises that’s just getting too familiar. You didn’t care, to the very least, continuously pounding her tight cunt and dismissing the fact about the risky unveiling of the truth.

Danielles muffled her screams with a bite on her shirt, shutting herself up and that alone makes you ignite the carnal beast within you, testing how much she can bear.

Her legs are possibly wobbling, getting weaker with how rough you are treating her as every clash of your bodies results in an addition to the symphony of moans, an ocean worth swimming in if it means your ears to get blessed.

You surely are, and you’re at the top of the world because of it. 

“God—this pussy—” You groan, spanking her and then lean on to kiss her neck, your tongue nibbling onto the pristine, milky skin as your weight gives her reasons to be dangerously precarious. “—is just phenomenal. This will always be mine.”

You marked up your territory, and Danielle knows who owns her heat, and it’s up for you to ignite it. The kiss was ephemeral, hurting her because she wanted to feel your lips longer against her neck but she’s just grateful that you’re still ruining and impaling her up to the hilt with your length. Your hands run its way back to her hips, and immediately continue with a consistent pace that inches her closer to her own high.

With the way she’s leaking like a faucet around your rapid length, you know it wouldn’t be long until she reaches euphoria.

“C-Close, daddy—so fucking close—you’re fucking m-me so, so good!” Danielle’s clearly enjoying this, and with her compliments comes your own fulfilling reply. You kept fucking her cunt like it’s going to be your last, every thrusts your hips muster clashes against her skin that accentuates roughness. 

“Please d-don’t stop fucking me—please, please!” She’s lost in the blissful trance, lust and desperation taking over as gone is her innocent image, truly in the depth and unable to go back up. You did what she pleaded as her juices coats your length in all angles, even adding up onto the puddle onto the floor and wetting down her thighs. Her knees shake, arms flailing with the impact her orgasm brings her, but you didn’t stop and fucked her through it, being in the same boat as hers—lost in the trance.

Her walls clench around you and it earns that primal roar out of you, her tightness aiding to the pleasure you’re also experiencing. You’re just cognizant with the fact that her expression probably concludes into the epitome of ecstasy, and all-throughout cockdrunked with your own reckoning. Wanting another angle to savor how her walls feel, you pull out of her and she immediately whines, asking why would you do such a thing.

“No, d-daddy—no, please, put it b-bcack in—”

“I will.” You grab her wrists and her hips, turning her around to face you and given her small figure, it wasn’t a challenge to control her. “I just wanna see your beautiful face while I ruin you again—make you cum again.”

With your strength, you squat down to inch your arms under her thighs, and immediately lifted her like it’s nothing, and with her swift recovery, her senses became aware and directed your throbbing cock inside her tightness again. She yelps and involuntarily holds onto your arms and neck, supporting her frame and continues to stare at your eyes, glistening with lust.

Her back is pressed against the wall as you thrust upwards, not even starting off slow and introducing a harsh pace, like what she wanted all along. “God, I could fuck you like this all day, Dani—god, you’re hot.”

With the way her abs flex in every thrust you do steals your attention towards it. Maybe her workouts at the gym are worth something more than what she always loves to do, and you admire how toned and perfect it is in every angle. Her supple frame and her flexible legs makes it easier to drill deeper into her cunt, uttering the sultriest and hottest moans by Danielle. With this profound angle, you’re in total domination all over her, controlling her as she gives in to you, trusting you on how you’ll ruin her with care. 

“God, daddy—you’re fucking me way too good!” It’s just the deepest primal instincts within her that’s commending the way you’re treating her, and you love every word laced within it. You continue to hammer her upwards, feeling her tightness enveloping you again as her hands find a leverage to hold on but are unsuccessful knowing it’s just a wall behind her. 

Your lips then smashes against hers, wanting to increase the libido within you as the clash is something lingering with need and hunger. Both of your lips add up to the erotic soundtrack that’s composed out of spite, filling and permeating the room with the sounds of sex and nothing more. 

You’re not going to lie, the shirt that accentuated her figure is just the perfect example of a nuisance, and Danielle hurriedly undresses it, revealing those perky tits with a white bra clasped around it. She’s just too hot to bear, and a perfect candidate to be ruined and you’re proving why she lives up to that position. She threw the shirt onto the bed beside, and continued to rest her arms onto your shoulders, then resumed her moans as it became erratic once you suckled onto her neck, inhaling the scent that you always love.

“I can’t believe h-how much of slut you are for my cock, honestly.” Even if she retaliates for a reason, she can’t deny the truth as your length turns her into a new person, consumed with lust and following you like a leash. She can’t utter a response, not when she’s being pounded into oblivion and another high inching closer towards her.

“I can’t daddy—too good! Too good!!” Her exclamations are the voices of her lustful nature, she’s possibly built just to say the same sets of words once you’ve plunged everything inside her. The cluster of the same moans and pleas escapes her lips, and you know she’s set for another blissful  climax and it’s all thanks to you.

Maybe the walls weren’t so opaque to shackle what’s behind, unveiling the secretive assault towards Danielle and you didn’t care—you’re chasing towards the promised land, to set foot there and get lost within that hill.

“Gonna cum, da—” She’s cut, and then, she releases.

Nectar seeps out to the edge of the crevices, forming rivulets and spasms that’s felt in her body, magnitudes unlocking new heights of delight as you fuck her through it, knowing your hopping onto the same boat as hers.

All things are destined to an end, and you want a conclusion worthy to paint something remarkable for the both of you.

“Outside, p-please—cum for me, daddy—” You’re still carrying her while the pleas register within you, burying your shaft and immobilizing your thrusts while coursing your way towards the bed. You throw her, not enough to hurt her but enough to hear an audible thud as you pull out, and eyeing her figure with such hunger that fueled you for another release.

“I’m gonna fucking paint that tight waist of yours, Dani.” You stroke your cock with a breakneck pace, an identical event like earlier as she invites you, her tone crumbling down your walls and building up another reward you’re eager to give.

“Then paint it, daddy—ruin me.” It’s simple yet so hot that you can’t fathom how she’s able to choose words that could fuck up the way you’re thinking. She’s embracing the eventual rain of another hot load, closing her eyes and you could count to five and not make it past three—

Then, it comes.

You aim towards her slim waist, showering the abs with numerous spurts that can rival your first one, multiple shots earning moans from your lips due to how euphoric she made you. You lick your lips, hands wringing out the pleasure and prolonging and eventually, it subsides down for you to admire the fruits of your labor—a work specifically painted meticulously, done and worked on a canvas that’s sprayed white.

Her chest heaves up and down due to the exasperating session and roughness you bestowed, but looking into her eyes, there’s no glint of regret and just grateful you’re able to show who you really are.

“God, you fucked me so well, daddy…”

Your breaths are ragged, your cock getting flaccid as Danielle still has the power to stand on her wobbly legs, your cum running down her porcelain skin and her hands finding its way onto your beast, still urging for something more.

“All for—argh—you, Dani—all for you, god…” The sensitivity skyrockets, but it doesn’t matter, not when you’re finding her lips again, exchanging torrid and intimate kisses.

As you’re about to find your way onto the fine plane of her spine, and towards her ass, a heavy set of knocks baffles the both of you, and it’s fucked up 

“Dani, why are you taking so long right there? Hello, are you there with him? What are the both of you doing??” It’s a familiar voice and your senses are heightened, and with an anxious look, Danielle reassures you and shouted words that would possibly assure the girl that everything’s fine.

“Hanni’s gonna kill me, Dani—”

“Shhh…” Her fingers meet your lips, muting you for more advances that won’t help the situation. You help her clean up with the tissue that’s on her desk and hurriedly dress yourselves up, looking presentable as much as possible. “It’s fine—nothing’s going the wrong way, daddy.”

You’re living your life on the edge, and you would be damned for dear life if Hanni unveils the truth yet Danielle’s golden personality outshines that and it’s only a matter of time before she puts those onto the test.

You can end up on both roads of besmirchment, that expected disappointment from Hanni or a surprising turn of acceptance but one thing’s for sure: you achieved what the both of you wanted, and that concludes up onto a triumphant note, all wins and no losses.

[livinghalfway]

Younger Years

Summary: Damian gets temp de-aged to 6yrs old; cue him asking where his twin is. This is how everyone finds out about Danny's existence Word Count: 1541

No one was prepared for the event that occurred a mere hours ago. Nightwing and Robin had been investigating an unknown target that had recently been causing trouble near the docks. There wasn't supposed to be an altercation, but when the person of interest showed up they weren't going to just let him walk away. 

This target had a trick up his sleeve though; literally. The moment he was cornered by the two vigilantes he had thrown a magical blast at Robin that managed to hit him square in the chest. By the time Nightwing had reached his side it was already too late and the magician had used that as his way to sneak away. 

“Robin?” Nightwing's voice is hesitant and soft as he peers down at the very small passed out child that lays in a pile of clothes. “Oh no.” 

As soon as the now tiny Damian is into his arms he’s rushing back to the cave. “Oracle, Robin and I ran into some trouble during our investigation. Alert Batman that he needs to get back to the cave as soon as he can.” 

“What’s happening? Do I need to get Dr. Leslie to the cave as well?” 

“No, not yet at least; neither of us is injured. We’ll need to contact Zatanna or Constantine though. It seems Robin got hit with some kind of de-aging spell.” 

The line on the other end was silent for a few moments before a soft snickering sound filled the comm line. “... I’m contacting everyone. How young would you say he is?”

“If I had to take a guess I’d say he’s 6 maybe 7.” Nightwing says as he glances down at the sleeping boy in his arms. He is taking so many photos as soon as he’s back in the cave Dick promises to himself. 

"So we have a baby assassin who's still deep in the LoA mindset. Is he awake right now? I can't imagine you'd be talking this calmly if you were trying to settle a Damian who  doesn't know you and seemingly woke up in a new location."

"He's asleep right now." He couldn't help but let out an exhausted sigh knowing that it wasn't going to be a fun time when Damian eventually wakes up, "As long as Robin doesn’t kill or hurt anyone by the end of this I'll count it as a personal win." 

"That'll count as a win for all of us." She hums, "Everyone available tonight has responded and should be waiting for your arrival. Good luck."

With that sign off the comm link went silent. He looks down at Damian's sleeping face once more and can't help but can't help to mourn the fact that this is the youngest he's ever seen his baby brother. He loves Damian at his normal age of 14 years old, but he also knows that he's going to enjoy having him this young as much as he can. 

It only took a few minutes after that to finally reach the cave. Dick took note of Bruce, Alfred, Tim, Jason, and Duke who were also in the cave, but ignored them for the moment in favor of rushing Damian to a med bay bed to lie him down. 

Before Dick can even fully settle Damian down he feels the familiar looming presence of Bruce standing behind him. "I hope you have a camera with you; I want to fill a photo album before this whole thing is done."

"We need to confirm that this is actually Damian first." Bruce reaches out, running a hand through the child's hair before gently plucking a couple hairs and turning away back to the computer. 

With Bruce occupied on the other side of the cave Jason, Tim, and Duke all shuffle in around the bed. Predictably, Tim does have a camera at the ready and immediately snaps a picture of Damian as soon as he's in the room. "I'm never letting him forget about this." 

"Just make sure you send me all your photos of this before trying to blackmail him to do anything with them." Dick is quick to say; he's getting his photo album one way or another. Knowing Damian he's going to try and destroy all evidence of this occurring. 

It is then that Alfred walks into the room as well, "Before we continue with the photos I insist we dress Master Damian in clothes that will more properly fit than the ones currently wrapped around him." 

After that was said Alfred gestured for all the boys out of the med bay room while he got Damian dressed in what must be some of Damian's smallest clothes that the older man was able to find. While waiting to be allowed back in the room a ping sounds out from behind them. It seems the DNA test is complete. 

"Well B, is it a boy, or are you still paranoid that the demon brat in there isn't actually Damian?" Jason questions as he walks forward and snatches the report. "Let's see! Yup, the boy is Damian alright; Bruce was being paranoid for no reason as usual." 

"How funny would it be though if the spell did just replace Damian with a 6 year old look alike though?" Duke grins as he takes a look at the report as well.

"… You think there's a spell that does that?" Jason looks far too interested in knowing that answer if the smirk on his face was anything to go by.

"We could ask-"

"You will not be asking anyone that question." Bruce quickly interrupts that conversation from continuing. If Dick had to guess though he'd say that it wasn't over based on the look Jason and Duke share with one another.  "I've already contacted Zatanna, and she's on the way now to assess the situation; nothing more." 

Tim scoffs and gives an exaggerated eye roll, "Oh, might as well let them ask otherwise-."

It was just then the zeta tube pinged and Zatanna was then standing in the Batcave with them. At the same time Alfred also exits the med bay room. "Well Batman, I'm sure you don't want me to be here more than necessary so let's go ahead and take a look at the little Robin." 

"Hm." 

With nothing else said Bruce turns and walks to where Damian is sleeping; Zatanna follows silently behind him. Dick and the others follow as well, not wanting to not hear what she has to say about Damian's situation. 

Everyone watches silently as she examines Damian, saying a few magic words before addressing Bruce.  "Well the good news is that this isn't permanent. The binding magic surrounding him is pretty weak."

"And the bad news?" Dick is immediately asking.

"The bad news is that this isn't something I can just undo right here right now. De-aging magic is always complicated, and the less risks we take the better." Zatanna tells him, "Which means you're just going to have to wait this out. It looks like it'll only last a couple of days." 

Perfect! Dick can't help, but think that is a perfect amount of time. He can definitely get a photo album of the amount of pictures in that time, and they all get to spend time with Damian as the youngest they've ever seen him! The only thing they need to do is make sure the baby assassin doesn't hurt anyone. 

The group after that naturally filters back into the main area of the cave. Zatanna and Bruce share a couple quiet words before she enters the zeta tube and it is only them in the cave once more. 

"Guess the only thing to do now is to wait for the demon brat to wake up." Jason gleefully exclaims, "I for one am excited to see how B handles the little terror." 

"Should one of us be there when he does wake up?" Duke asks; clearly thinking about the kid possibly waking up and trying to attack them.

Tim immediately shouts out, "Not it!"

"I'll do it," Dick assures Tim, "I still need to write my report anyway. I'll let you all know when he wakes up." 

With no complaints Dick gathers his things, and goes to take a seat next to Damian while he writes up an official report of the events that occurred tonight. As he does he makes sure to look up every few minutes; he's not sure when Damian might wake up, and he wants to be ready when he does. 

After half an hour Dick was just finishing up, and he could still hear his brothers loudly talking about something. It warms his heart to think about the three of them getting along; with that in mind he takes another glance at his littlest brother. Damian is of course glaring at him with the cutest little pout.

Wait.

Damian's awake!

"Hey Damian," he makes sure to speak as gently as he can, "do you feel okay? What's the last thing you remember?" 

Now, Dick expected Damian to attack one of them at some point during this; what he didn't expect was for him to do it immediately to the first person he saw. He probably should have though.

[buckymorelikefuckme]

and baby makes three

(the reboot)

bucky barnes x fem reader

words: 11.3k

warnings: **18+ ONLY** friends to lovers, pining, smut, oral (f receiving), breeding kink, pregnancy kink, cockwarming (kind of??), trigger warning for having troubles with getting pregnant. it's still super fuckin soft despite all of that though, i swear.

a/n: okay so it's currently 6am as i'm typing this and i haven't been to sleep yet bc i decided to just heavily edit this instead of rewrite it bc i'm lazy i guess idk. this was posted originally back in 2021 i believe and it's still on ao3 it's just orphaned rip. i promise i'll be writing and posting new stuff soon ok pls have faith in me and cheer me on bc it's hard and scary and i don't wanna disappoint anybody :( ANYWAY, as usual, any and all mistakes are my own. if i've missed anything important pls let me know so i can correct it. feedback is encouraged (pls) and appreciated (i am begging...)

The idea of you having a child one day always seemed foreign and very unlikely. Sure, you liked kids well enough, but having one of your own…

It’s a thought that’s sat in a corner deep in your mind, buried beneath a million other impossible concepts; a thought that you’ve only ever glanced over and never gave your full attention, having ruled it out ages ago as something you just couldn’t—or wouldn’t—do.

And then, on a day like any other, it pushes its way to the forefront of your mind, making itself known and unwilling to leave.

You’re going into the clothing store to find a new cardigan after your most favorite one got eaten by the dryer. Usually you’re a single-minded shopper, walking into a store with tunnel vision and on a mission to get what you need and that’s it.

Today, however, you make the mistake of letting your eyes wander on your way to the sweater section. Your gaze just so happens to land on the baby clothes… and your steps falter. It’s there that you see it, a tiny, pink onesie with a sleeping teddy bear printed on the front, displayed on an even tinier hanger. There’s matching pants with teddy bears all over them and ruffles on the butt and all your brain can muster up is cutecutecutecutecute.

Your feet carry you closer and before you realize what you’re doing you pick up the outfit, letting out a coo when you realize the teddy bear is fuzzy, softly rubbing your thumb across it. Somehow, you walk out of the store, not with a new cardigan, but with the cute baby outfit and a bow you thought looked adorable with it.

It’s not until you get home that it hits you, that you bought baby clothes for a baby you don’t even have.

The feeling that rushes through you is hard to describe. Shame? Embarrassment?

...Yearning?

No. Definitely not. Nope.

There’s absolutely no yearning going on here, not for a baby. You’ve never even had that desire before and you certainly don’t see yourself having it now. You shake your head to clear it, telling yourself you’ll take it back tomorrow.

Except you don’t take it back. You conveniently “forget” and it stays shoved on the top shelf in your hall closet. You pretend you don’t pause in front of said closet throughout the following days—weeks—chewing on the inside of your cheek and staring at the door like you can see through the wood at the evidence of your impulsive purchase.

It gets harder to ignore, though, when you start getting ads for baby clothing brands. And baby toys, bottles, handy little gadgets for new parents, nursery decor… It’s endless.

Then, as if it wasn’t already bad enough, all of your childhood friends start popping out babies like it’s a brand new trend. You don't think you've seen your social media this flooded with pregnancy announcements and baby arrivals, ever. Your emotions are mixed; happy for them, and for their excitement, but there’s also a weird discomfort settled in your stomach.

You hesitate to be that person who thinks the universe is trying to tell you something, but you do wonder. Why else would you suddenly have these feelings? Why else would there be baby stuff everywhere you look now?

It brings on other thoughts, as well. In this day and age, it’s not too unusual for women to have babies without being married, or without a significant other at all. There is the pressure, still, to at least be in a relationship, but considering you’ve been practically in love with one of your closest friends for the last two years, it’s safe to say that you’re tragically single, so having a baby with someone is out of the question.

And god, do you even want a baby?

As soon as the thought crosses your mind, with a sudden clarity that hits you like a ton of bricks, you realize you do. It feels like a freight train has slammed into you. Your mind’s eye supplies you with images of a swollen belly and wide smile, a precious baby wrapped in a soft blanket, cradled in your arms, a gummy grin and happy giggle.

Emotion consumes you then, longing like you’ve never felt in your life, chest aching with how badly you want that.

It’s not as if you’re too young. You’re plenty old enough and you’ve got a secure job. You don’t subscribe to that whole biological clock nonsense, but you do feel that if you are going to potentially have a baby, it might be better to do it now while you’re still in relatively good health.

You groan, dropping your face into your open palms, the movie you'd been watching to try and distract yourself long forgotten as it continues to play on the television.

This is a lot to think about, you ponder to yourself. Taking a deep breath in and releasing it slowly, you decide the mature thing to do is give yourself more time to ruminate on it. Having a baby is no small decision. You need to be absolutely certain it’s what you want. It’s going to change your entire life, everything, and you’d be responsible for a new life. So, you’ll have to give yourself a few months to decide and then you can go from there.

***

You’re scrolling through yet another article on your laptop, engrossed in every detail of the process of artificial insemination and the symptoms and side effects that come with it. So engrossed, in fact, that you don’t hear the key turning in the lock, the door opening and closing, and the heavy footfalls that follow.

It’s only when Bucky asks, “Whatcha reading?” that you are even aware of his presence.

You startle so hard that your knee slams into the underside of your table. Ignoring the throbbing pain in your knee and your wildly beating heart, you close your laptop with a snap and turn to Bucky.

“You could knock,” you grouse.

“Why give me a key, then?” he retorts, unapologetic.

You roll your eyes and grumble under your breath, “Clearly, it was a mistake.”

“You didn’t answer me.”

Brows furrowed, you ask, “What?”

He gestures to your laptop. “What were you reading? Your nose was nearly smushed against the screen.”

You blink, trying to think of a reasonable excuse and coming up empty.

“Nothing,” is all your brilliant mind can supply.

Bucky’s eyes narrow for a few seconds, and you pray to every higher power and all that is holy and good that he won’t press further. You remain frozen under Bucky’s suspicious stare, hearing that Old West shootout music playing in your mind.

Thankfully, it seems the deities are feeling indulgent, as Bucky chooses let it go.

He holds up the bags he carried in. “I brought lunch.”

You perk up instantly. “Did you go to that one place—?”

“With the fried rice you like so much, yes,” he finishes for you, smiling.

“You’re the best,” you sigh, stomach rumbling eagerly.

“I know,” he replies, solemn and dramatic like the idiot he is.

He begins taking out the styrofoam boxes and chattering on about something dumb Steve did the other day, and you mean to listen, you really do. It’s just. That article is still lingering in your brain. There’s so many steps and hassles. Plus, it’s not cheap. It would be a hefty investment.

You’d only researched it because, after months of contemplating the pros and cons of having a baby, you determined the pros far outweigh the cons. But then the problem was: how to even make it happen.

Your first thought was that you didn’t think you’d let just any man come inside you, for many obvious reasons. You’d shuddered to think of it. Then there was surrogacy, which is admirable and wonderful, but you’d quickly dismissed that idea as you realized you wanted to actually carry the baby yourself. So that led you to artificial insemination. You weren’t sure how you felt about it yet. There was something a little too clinical about choosing a random man’s sperm to have injected into your uterus.

Bucky’s still speaking as he grabs plates and forks, unaware of your inner monologue. “And then he got Sam involved,” he’s saying, scooping out food onto the plates, “which, as you know, I always think is a dumb thing to do.”

“I want to have a baby,” you blurt, eyes widening at your outburst.

Bucky fumbles with the spoon, sending fried rice flying, muttering curses as he tries to catch it with no luck as it lands with a dull clunk on the table. The silence that follows is loud. It feels like your heart is in your throat as you wait for him to just say something, anything.

“This is… quite a mess I’ve made,” Bucky finally observes. His voice is a bit higher than usual. “Where’s your vacuum? Actually, do you have one of those mini ones? Or would Clorox wipes be better? You know what, I’ll do both.”

He nods decisively then turns an expectant look towards you. His eyes look a bit wild, but you wisely keep that to yourself.

Wordlessly, you direct him to your hall closet. You realize your error a second too late when he opens the closet and reaches for the vacuum on the top shelf, where the purchase you’d made months ago also rests. His fingers get caught in the plastic bag when he grabs the handheld vacuum and its contents spill out. He goes to catch them right away, but once it registers what they are, he lets go of them like they’re on fire and nearly drops the vacuum on his foot.

Heat has been steadily creeping up your neck, but now your whole body feels aflame with embarrassment. The two of you stare at the baby clothes lying unassumingly on the floor for a long moment, until Bucky quietly walks back to the table with the vacuum clutched tightly in his fist. He flicks the switch on and it whirs to life, sucking up the bits of rice scattered around the table.

There’s another lengthy silence after he turns the vacuum off and you're unable to find the right thing to say to break it. Bucky does it for you.

“So… You’re serious.”

You meet his eyes and sigh heavily. “Yeah.”

He blinks a few times before clearing his throat, schooling his expression carefully. “I didn’t realize you were seeing someone.”

You cough lightly and start picking the peas out of your fried rice. “Well, that would be because I’m not.”

“I don’t think I follow,” he admits slowly.

You sigh again, lowering your gaze to your lap. “Look, I’ve thought about this a lot, okay? I’ve given myself months to really make sure it’s what I want. I’m in a good place in my life to have one, Bucky, and I don’t want to feel pressured to wait until I might get married.” You lift your gaze to his. “I want to have a baby,” you repeat firmly. “And I don’t need a partner to have one.”

You’re not sure why you feel the need to defend yourself. It’s not up to Bucky what you decide to do. You don’t need his approval, or anyone else’s. Maybe it’s because, even though you know it's not true, it feels like you're making too hasty of a decision.

After a beat, Bucky amends, “Well, I mean… You do…”

“Oh my god, shut up, you know what I mean,” you groan as you smack his arm, glad that he's not calling you crazy or trying to talk you out of it.

He doesn’t even flinch, the jerk.

“Wait, so what were you reading when I got here?” he suddenly questions, brows furrowed.

“Nothing,” you say too quickly, guiltily.

“Let me see your laptop then,” he counters as he crosses his arms over his chest.

You flounder for a second, scoffing. “What? No!”

“It can’t be that embarrassing, just show me,” he wheedles.

“Absolutely not.”

“Let me see!”

“It’s private!”

“Don’t be a chicken.”

Your eye twitches. “I’m not a chicken.” Bucky smirks and before he can even open his mouth you interject with a finger pointed accusingly at his face, “Do not start clucking at me, Bucky. I’ll kick your ass,” you threaten, though it's weak and you're not the only one who knows it.

You glare when his smirk only widens. Slowly, he moves his arms like he’s gonna flap them like chicken wings.

“Ugh! God, fine! You wanna know what I was reading?” You open your laptop and slide it over to him, turning it to where he can read it. “There.”

Bucky scans the page, then scans it again, eyes flicking all over like it’s in a different language. His cheeks grow redder and redder as he reads and you get a small sense of satisfaction at the sight.

“Wow,” he mutters finally. “You’re turkey baster serious.”

“James Buchanan Barnes,” you say, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“What?” he asks innocently.

When you make eye contact with him, you purse your lips to keep the laughter threatening to bubble out at bay, but the ever growing smile on Bucky’s face is hard to resist and you find yourself snorting a laugh that leads to uncontrollable giggles. Bucky’s laughing with you, his eyes crinkling on the sides. The tension you hadn’t realized you held in your shoulders loosens and you nudge his knee with yours in silent thanks.

“So,” he says after you've both calmed down.

“So,” you repeat, dragging it out, drumming your fingers on the tabletop. “I’ve been doing research, checking out all of my options, and while artificial insemination seems like the best choice… I don’t know, there’s just something too clinical about it,” you reply, voicing your concerns, “It doesn’t feel right. I know I said I don’t need a partner, and I don’t, but… Having absolutely no connection is weird.”

You shrug, waving a hand as if to say oh well, putting an end to the conversation, and pick up your plate to carry it over to the microwave. You reheat Bucky’s food while you’re up, and then you both start eating in comfortable silence. He gets halfway through his meal before speaking up.

“Have you… I mean, did you think about… I’ve heard that, uh. Some people ask another person…”

He trails off, clearly frustrated that he can’t just spit out what he’s trying to say. You think you understand what he means, though.

“I read up on surrogacy,” you say, biting your lip. “But I don’t think I’d want someone else to carry my baby.”

“Oh, no, I didn’t mean—I wasn’t suggesting, uh, that. Not that there’s anything wrong with it!” he rushes to say.

You tilt your head. “What did you mean then?”

“Well,” Bucky starts, stilted, licking his lips. “For the artificial insemination, have you considered… you know. Asking someone you’re close with?”

You frown, not following.

“For—for the sperm,” he clarifies, shifting in his seat.

“Oh,” you breathe, blinking rapidly, surprised as you think of how to reply. “Um. No? I wouldn’t even know who I could ask, to be honest. That’s quite the request, you know? Who would—“

“Me,” he interrupts, determined and cheeks flushed, “I would.”

Your own face heats. “Oh,” you say again, quieter.

You can say, with full confidence, that not once did it cross your mind to ask anyone to help you, but you especially would have never given thought to asking Bucky.

For a list of reasons, really, with “it’s Bucky” being right at the very top. Like—sure, yes, you’re in love with him, but after two years of no signs of reciprocation you’ve learned to stop dreaming, to stop hoping. If the attraction was mutual he would have shown it by now, right? And on top of that, his friendship means the world to you and you wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize it. You'd never forgive yourself if you ever managed to fuck up the one good, constant thing going for you.

“Bucky,” you start, slow and careful, “this… This isn't something you can just jump into. It’s something you should think about for a while.”

He contemplates that for a second. “You’re right,” he concedes with a nod. “But…” He purses his lips, glancing away for a minute before turning back to you, leaning forward. “Okay listen, this is important for you. It’s going to change your whole life. You said it yourself, not having a connection to the sperm donor feels wrong. You’re my best friend, alright? I—care about you. You should pick someone you can trust.”

He clenches his jaw after he finishes speaking. You sort of hate the way your heart both flutters and plummets at his words. It’s nice to know you matter to him, just not in the way you’ve wanted for too long.

And if you’re really honest with yourself, Bucky would be a great choice as a donor. He’s in great health, has strong features that would look wonderful on any gender. But would you be able to handle the repercussions of having his child? Would you be able to look at your baby and see those features without it sending a pang through your chest every single time? You can’t say for certain.

Yet, the chance to have that type of connection with him, selfishly, sounds too good to pass up.

“At least think about it for a few days,” you murmur reluctantly.

It’s the most acceptance he’ll get and he knows it. A smile blooms across his face and you have to swallow down the warring emotions rising within you.

***

With the amount of research you do on the subject now, it doesn’t take long for you to find out that there are at-home kits for artificial insemination that are much easier (and cheaper). It’s easy to settle on that, clicking on the info to order your kit with butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

You read through the instructions online and it all sounds simple enough, until you get to the part where it says that having an orgasm after injection helps increase your chances of conception.

Blinking, heat crawling up your neck, you read that step several times, hoping you read it wrong, but it doesn’t change.

You… You can’t masturbate with Bucky’s sperm inside you. That’s a line you refuse to cross.

And besides, he’s a healthy man in his thirties who exercises regularly and eats fairly healthy food! You probably—definitely—won’t need to take that step. It’ll be fine. Probably.

Once the kit arrives, you call Bucky and ask him to come over so you can explain the process to him. Since he’s only across the hall of your apartment building, he’s there a moment later, letting himself in with his key.

“Let’s make a baby,” is how he greets you.

“Hold your horses,” you reply, fighting back a laugh. “I gotta walk you through everything first.”

He plops himself down next to you on your couch. “Fine, fine. Go ahead.”

Squaring your shoulders, you begin telling him how it all works, and what parts he is key for. You speak through your awkwardness, avoiding eye contact, when you explain that he’ll need to masturbate into a clean, sterile cup. You leave out how it’s suggested for you to also masturbate, deciding it’s not pertinent information for him to know.

“When do we start?” he asks once you’re done.

“I have to take an ovulation test first to find out the best days for me to conceive, but once I do that we’ll be able to, um.” You gesture vaguely. “I’ll be able to do the injections.”

He nods. “Alright.” He looks at you then, taking your hand in his and giving it a squeeze. “I’ll be here every step of the way, okay?”

“I know,” you say, smiling. “Thank you, Bucky.”

“You’re welcome,” he returns softly.

“No, really, thank you,” you assert. “This is a lot to take on and I can never fully repay you.”

Bucky shakes his head. “I want you to be happy, and I can see that having this baby is going to do that. I’ll do whatever I need to do to ensure it happens.”

You pull him into a hug, willing yourself to not cry. You’re not sure he’ll ever understand what this means for you, personally, or that you’d ever find a way to express it. He’s giving you so much more than just a baby.

***

The first injection time comes and you find yourself fidgeting where you sit as you wait for Bucky to bring over the, uh… sample. You do your best to not think about what he’s doing in his apartment, to not think about exactly how he’s collecting his sperm.

Now is not the time, you mentally scold yourself. Get it together.

A timid knock at your door alerts you to his presence. The fact he’s knocking says a lot about his own level of embarrassment about the situation.

His cheeks are pink when you open the door. “Uh, hi.”

“Hi,” you return.

He clears his throat and lifts the small cup in his hand. “Here’s… well, you know.”

You gingerly take it from him, not knowing what else to say, but when he smiles somewhat crookedly and turns to leave, you find yourself asking, “Will you stay?”

Bucky’s steps pause. “Huh?”

“Will you—I mean… Would you mind staying?” You shift on your feet. “This is a big moment for me. I-I don’t want to do it alone.”

“Are you asking me to…?” He trails off awkwardly.

“Oh! God, no, I wouldn’t—no,” you assure, huffing a laugh, “I’m doing the injection, I just need a little moral support. That’s all.”

Bucky smiles. “Sure, I’ll stay.”

Relief floods through you. You step aside to let him in, closing the door behind him. He follows you to your bedroom and just before entering you stop in your tracks, nearly causing Bucky to bump into you.

“Um,” you mutter, turning to him. “You’ll have to, ah, sit out here,” you explain. “I have to be lying down…”

Understanding dawns on him. “Oh! Right, right, of course. Sorry.”

“I’ll let you know when I’m done,” you promise.

He nods and watches you close the door. You walk over to your bed and sit down, glancing at the syringe you’ll be using and biting the inside of your cheek.

This is it. There’s really no going back after this. Sure, you may not get pregnant the first time, but Bucky’s already said he’d help you for as long as it takes. It’s just… very real now. You don’t feel any doubts, though. You want this.

Inhaling a large breath and slowly letting it out, hands shaking, you take the lid off the cup and pick up the syringe. You remember the instructions, making sure there’s as little air sucked in as possible when you draw out the semen, and getting rid of the few air bubbles that you see. You grab your pillows and lie down, propping them beneath you to lift your hips.

“Here I go,” you mumble to yourself, taking another deep breath and releasing it.

A couple minutes later, the syringe is empty and you’ve got your legs pulled up to your chest. You cover yourself with your blanket and call out Bucky’s name.

“You okay?” you hear through the door.

“Will you come here, please?” you ask.

He walks in cautiously, making sure you’re decently covered before entering fully, wisely not commenting on your position. “Well?”

“I did it,” you whisper.

He stays quiet, letting you parse through your thoughts. You blink when you feel tears threatening to gather in your eyes. He’s beside you in an instant, crawling in the bed and lying down, taking your hand in his.

“Congratulations,” he says softly.

“Don’t congratulate me yet,” you reply, sniffing and wiping at your eyes.

“Still,” he presses. “You’re one step closer now.”

He pulls your hand up and kisses the back of it. You give him a watery smile. The two of you lay there in silence for a moment before Bucky breaks it.

“This isn’t how I pictured myself making a baby.”

It startles a laugh out of you and Bucky grins, pleased to have helped ease the tense atmosphere. He distracts you with idle conversation after that, talking about his plans for the upcoming weekend, asking about yours, tells you about the newest stupid thing Sam did; he talks and talks and talks, until your anxiety is gone, and then he stays to cook dinner for you.

Your hug when he gets ready to head back to his apartment lasts a couple minutes longer than usual. Bucky quietly allows it, dropping a kiss on your forehead when you pull away.

“Same time next week?” he jokes, making you crack a smile.

“Goodbye, Bucky,” you reply exasperatedly as you close your door.

“Bye, sweetheart,” he returns over his shoulder.

***

Weeks pass. More injections. Pregnancy tests taken.

But nothing happens.

All of your tests come back negative.

When reading up on artificial insemination, and pregnancy in general, you’d understood that there was a chance it wouldn’t happen right away. You thought you were fine with that, that you’d be alright with the waiting and all. Looking at your growing collection of negative tests, however, has a sense of dread building within you. You do your best to quell it, telling yourself there’s no need to stress over it. Yet.

Besides, your mind supplies in an overly cheerful manner, there’s still one more method to try!

***

The next time Bucky brings over his sample, he lets himself in, like always, and passes along the cup with an encouraging smile. You try to smile back, but it feels more like a grimace. He either doesn’t notice or he at least pretends not to, thankfully.

But when he goes to make himself comfortable to wait, you’re reminded that you haven’t told him about the, uh… change in procedure, so to speak.

You clear your throat delicately. “I don’t think you’ll need to stick around this time.”

Bucky frowns. “Why not?”

“Because…” You trail off, cheeks pinking, yet not finishing the sentence, because how do you explain this?

“I promised you I’d be here every step of the way,” he recalls. “I intend to keep that promise.”

You wince. “I really appreciate where your heart is, Bucky, I really do, but I literally cannot let you be here for this injection.”

“Why not?”

You look heavenward for mercy. “I have to…”

When you don’t finish your sentence again, Bucky raises a single brow, gesturing for you to go on. “You have to… what?”

You huff, throwing your arms out. “I have to orgasm, okay?”

His eyes go a little bit wide, but you can tell he tries to control his reaction. He swallows, shifting where he sits on the couch.

“Oh,” he mumbles. “Have… have you had to do that before?”

“No. Well, I mean, it was suggested, but I never…”

His eyebrows furrow. “Does it help or something?”

You absently scratch your neck. “They say it increases the chances of conception.”

“But you haven’t been doing… that.”

“I didn’t think I’d need to.”

Bucky inhales like he’s going to say something, but then doesn’t.

“Yeah, so, I don’t think you should be here,” you utter, quickly adding, “No offense.”

“No, yeah, that’s fair, um. I’ll just—I’ll head back to my apartment,” he states as he stands. “You can—I mean, if you still want me to—I can come back over? After you… uh…”

“I’ll let you know,” you reply, voice tight and high.

He nods, looking lost and like he wants to say more but thinks better of it. Finally, he mutters a soft bye and is out the door.

Alone now, your stomach feels like it’s tying itself in knots and your heart is doing its damnedest to beat out of your chest. You try to tell yourself that it’s just another injection, that this is the same as any other time you've done this, but you know it’s not. It's really, really not.

Laying down on your bed, syringe in hand, is much more nerve wracking than before. On your left lies a new addition to your routine. You don’t know why you’re acting like such a prude all the sudden. It’s not like you’ve never masturbated before. Though, you suppose the major difference is that you didn’t have Bucky’s sperm hangin’ out in your vagina all those other times while you did it.

“Quit being such a goober about this,” you tell yourself.

This has to be done for a reason. If you want to have a baby—and you do, very badly—then you’re gonna have to deal with the process.

Once you’ve injected the sperm, you reach for your bullet vibrator next to your left hand. The instructions say not to insert anything, only to stimulate your clit. You try to clear your head, think of it as a chore or something, yet it’s hard not to think of a certain someone.

The vibrator buzzes with the press of a button. You adjust your hips, making sure they’re tilted, then bring the vibrator to your clit. The first touch makes your stomach tense and thighs spasm.

You close your eyes, running the toy along your slit. You really don’t want to drag this out, would prefer to get it over with as quickly as possible, but your mind begins running away with images.

Bucky, settled between your spread thighs, one hand resting on one of them, the other controlling the vibrator. You imagine he’d tease you, slowly trail it along the crease of your thighs, over your hips; everywhere but where you wanted it.

Bucky would probably give in once you whine and beg enough, once your desperation bled into your voice, and hold the vibrator directly to your clit, drink in your cries of pleasure like they’re the finest whisky.

He’d mutter soft but firm encouragement, tell you how good you’re doing, how good you sound. He’d start circling the vibrator, going from quick to lazy swirls, then he’d change the setting to a higher one just to hear you whimper. His free hand would run up your torso to pinch at your nipples for added stimulation.

When you imagine him leaning down to add his tongue into the mix, your mind blanks as your climax hits you, a ragged moan forcing its way out of your throat. You’re quick to turn the vibrator off and toss it to the floor, deciding you’ll worry about cleaning it later, chest heaving as you pant for breath after an intense orgasm.

Shame and embarrassment consume you, mock you for using Bucky to rub one out. You’d given in to the fantasy so easily.

Truthfully, it’s not the first time you’ve thought of him while pleasuring yourself, but the context this time is completely different, and you feel immediately guilty. Admittedly, it’s probably irrational.

That doesn’t stop you from cringing at your actions.

***

You’re sure you’ve bought out the entire pregnancy test section from the convenience store down the block. Currently, there are six different brands in front of you, all promising the most accurate results.

Bucky is sitting in your bedroom, quietly waiting for you to pee on all of them so you can both find out what they say. You chug the last bit of your third bottle of water even though your bladder is fit to burst at any moment. Turning the faucet on for modesty, you make quick work of the tests, then wash your hands.

And wait.

You call Bucky into the bathroom with you. The two of you quietly sit on the edge of your bathtub, counting down the minutes. Part of you wishes Bucky would say something dumb to break the tension, like he usually does, but you're also kind of glad he's just here, next to you, a silent comfort.

It seems like hours have passed when you’re finally sure you can check them.

The first one is negative, and so is the second. The third, however, reads positive. Your heart begins racing, clutching at the counter, but before your hopes get too carried away you read the rest. To your dismay, they are all negative. You stare down at them all, eyes falling on the loan positive test multiple times, knowing that it’s likely a false positive, yet stupidly hoping otherwise.

Your chin wobbles. Bucky hugs you from behind, resting his cheek on your shoulder.

“What do I do, Bucky?”

At your broken whisper, he sighs. “I don’t know, sweetheart.”

Neither of you know what to say or do after that. Bucky continues offering quiet support, his solid presence at your back, and you’re grateful. Eventually, he leads you out of the bathroom and into the kitchen, sitting you down at the table as he starts preparing dinner.

When you’re both eating the spaghetti he made, he breaks the silence.

“Do you think…” he starts, pausing to think of how to phrase his question before carefully carrying on. “Are you going to stop?”

“I don’t want to,” you answer, the implied but hanging heavy in the air.

Bucky sits his fork down. “I know you want this, very much.” He pushes his hair out of his face as he leans forward, elbows settling on the table. “But I hate seeing how sad you get when the tests come out negative. I feel so… powerless. Like I could be doing more or something.”

“You’re doing all you can, Bucky,” you assure.

“That’s the thing, though. I don’t think I am.”

You frown. “What do you mean?”

He licks his lips, locking his fingers together. “I think we should have sex.”

Your fork drops to your plate with a clang, eyes going wide.

“I apologize for how blunt that came out,” he states with a wince. “But, I mean, think about it. You’ve only been using my sperm from a syringe, and up until the last time, you hadn’t been, um, orgasming with it.” You look away, bashful. “I just wonder if maybe trying the old-fashioned way would give you better results.”

“Bucky,” you start, opening and closing your mouth a couple times before shaking your head. “It’s one thing for you to offer your sperm, which I’m thankful for, truly, but… Having sex?”

“I’ve already told you I’m willing to do whatever I need to do,” he retorts earnestly. “Your happiness means a lot to me, okay? I hate sitting around and watching your heart break every week. You’ve tried it your way, now I think we should try mine.”

“I-I don’t know,” you hesitate, chewing on the inside of your cheek, knee beginning to bounce under the table.

His hand slides onto your knee, stilling the movement as he ducks his head to meet your gaze. His eyes are impossibly sincere and your resolve crumbles in an instant.

“It won’t… It’s not going to change anything,” he assures. “I won’t allow it.”

You swallow roughly. He may not, but your heart is going to take its toughest beating yet. It’s going to be hopeless trying to overcome the inevitable emotions that come with sex.

Even so, somehow, your longing for a baby eclipses all of this. Now that you’ve imagined holding your child in your arms, raising them and loving them, you can’t go back. Not anymore.

“Okay,” you allow, softly.

Bucky’s shoulders relax, lips tipping up into a devastating smile.

You’re so fucked. (Pun intended.)

***

Two nights later, you’re pacing in your bedroom, impatiently waiting for Bucky to arrive. You’d been unsure whether or not you should dress up. You didn’t see the point, honestly. Still, a small part of you wondered what his reaction would be if he saw you all done up in lingerie. At the moment, you’re in an oversized t-shirt and pajama shorts.

It’s Bucky, you think, and this isn’t a normal situation, it doesn’t matter what I’m wearing.

You hear his key turning in the lock then and your heart begins hammering away. He calls your name as he enters.

“In here,” you reply, twisting your fingers nervously.

He walks into your room looking just as on edge as you are. He also seems to have had the same idea about his attire, comfortable in his white tee and sweatpants. His feet are bare and for whatever reason that feels way more intimate than it has any right to.

“Hey,” he greets.

“Hi.”

You bite your lip, eyes flitting around your room and coming back to settle on Bucky. He huffs.

“This is ridiculous,” he declares, “It’s just us.”

“Right,” you nod, biting the inside of your cheek.

“It’s not gonna be weird.”

“Nope.”

His jaw ticks. You stare back at him. It only takes a moment for you to realize that somebody has to make the first move, so you steel yourself and turn on your heel, walking towards your bed.

“I’m keeping my shirt on,” you announce as you unceremoniously drop onto the mattress, grabbing your pillows to stuff them under you.

Bucky follows at a sedate pace, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. He pauses next to you, taking a second to roll his shoulders, then he climbs in and settles in front of your bent legs. He gingerly places his hands on your knees.

“May I?” he asks.

Mouth suddenly dry, you nod. He moves his hands to the waistband of your shorts and tugs. You lift your hips to help him slide them down and off, along with your underwear. Gently, he spreads your legs.

Your breathing has picked up considerably, eyes firmly trained on the ceiling. You know you’re already wet and are blessedly thankful he doesn’t mention it.

The first slide of his fingers has you inhaling sharply. He slowly gathers your slick and trails it up to your clit, lightly circling it. Your mind recalls your fantasy, but you quickly shove it back to the depths of your thoughts, lest you do something idiotic like tell him about it.

He spreads your legs more, adjusting his position between them. His fingers move down until he can sink one into you. You gasp, hands shooting out to grasp your sheets. He wastes no time and begins thrusting his finger inside you.

It becomes quickly apparent to you that it’s going to be very difficult to hold back any noise or reactions. Goddamnit, you will try, though!

When he decides it’s time to add another finger, you feel yourself clench around them, and his soft fuck does not go unnoticed, evident in the way your pussy traitorously clenches again.

“Can I…?” he asks, voice cracking, but doesn’t finish his thought, making you have to break your staring contest with the ceiling and look at him.

He’s not even looking back at you, he’s staring at his fingers, watching them pump in and out of you, half bent over with a slack jaw, like he wants to…

He meets your eyes then, licking his lips.

Oh.

Swallowing around the sudden lump in your throat, knowing you’re probably going to regret it, you nod.

He’s leaning over and sucking on your clit before you can even blink. You cry out, thighs trying to clamp around his head, but his free hand shoots out to hold you open. It makes you squirm, fisting the sheets even tighter. His fingers curl inside you as his tongue licks around them and you whine, high and needy, and then mouth is back on your clit, tongue swiping over it, sucking on it with loud, obscene noises.

His hand comes up to grab the hem of your shirt, shoves it upward until it’s bunched underneath your breasts. Those fingers ghost back down your torso, goosebumps erupting in their wake.

He speeds up his thrusts and your hand flies down to grip his hair. You don’t think you’re meant to hear the quiet grunt he lets out, but you do, and it has you panting even harder. Your orgasm is building, fast, and you pull on his hair in warning.

“Bucky,” you say on a gasp.

Using his arm to hold you down, his free hand joins, thumb swiping over your clit now as he dips his head to slide his tongue in alongside his fingers. It draws a yell out of you, the ever expanding pleasure within you bursting into the hardest orgasm you’ve experienced thus far in your adult life. You know you’re moaning, bucking into the sensations coursing through you, and you’d feel abashed if you didn’t feel so fucking good.

Before you can become too sensitive, Bucky withdraws his fingers and sits up. You can’t even really catch your breath, though, because in the next second he’s whipping his t-shirt off and shoving his sweatpants down far enough to free his cock.

Your thighs do clamp closed then, at the sight of how thick he is, and he tries and fails to keep his smirk hidden.

“Oh, shut up,” you wheeze.

“Didn’t say anything,” he counters.

He doesn’t let you argue, choosing that moment to shuffle closer and line up with your opening. Cautiously, he eases himself inside, inch by inch. Your mouth drops open, brows furrowing as he fills you, stretching you so perfectly. When he’s in as far as he can go, the breath wooshes out of him, his head falling back. You know he’s trying to be polite and let you adjust, but—

“Oh my god, move,” you demand, impatient.

He huffs a laugh, dropping his heavy lidded gaze to yours. “Bossy.”

“Did you really expect anything else—oh!”

The grin he aims your way after grinding into you is downright sinful. You mentally tell yourself to kick him for that later.

He grabs your hips and the pillows and settles you closer to his lap, changing the angle, then pulls out and glides back in, creating a painstakingly slow rhythm.

You have to close your eyes. You can’t look at him anymore. You knew he was probably a god in bed, but to now have firsthand experience? There was no way you’d be able to fuck anyone else without comparing them.

His grip on your hips tightens, the only warning you get before his thrusts turn sharp.

“Fuck,” you cry out, your hands reaching up to grip the pillow beneath your head.

The sound of your skin meeting his is harsh in the otherwise quiet room. Well, okay, you’re not exactly being quiet, but you can’t be blamed for that.

Bucky, however, is nearly silent. The only thing you hear from him is heavy breathing. You wonder if he’s holding back, the thought crossing your mind for a split second, and then you’re clenching around his cock, trying to see if you can gain a reaction. And boy, do you get one.

He grunts and sucks in a breath, lips parting as his eyes squeeze shut. His hips pick up their pace and hair falls into his face. You find yourself wishing he was closer so you could brush it out of the way.

Stop it, you scold yourself.

He pauses to grind into you again, your walls fluttering around his throbbing cock, and you both sigh. Bucky leans forward, hooking your legs into the crooks of his elbows, and resumes his brutal pace.

“O-Oh,” you whimper.

The new angle is heavenly, his cock dragging along a spot inside you that you thought nobody else could find. Unable to help yourself, you clutch at his arms, nails digging in.

“Shit,” he groans, thrusts faltering.

He lets go of one of your legs to slip his hand between you, rubbing at your clit and sending you that much closer to your second orgasm. He can tell you’re close, but you’re gonna need something to push you over the edge. He leans down even closer, breath fanning out against your cheek.

“C’mon,” he pants. “Let go.”

You shiver when his tongue flicks your earlobe and sucks it into his mouth, keening as the pressure builds. He thrusts harder, faster, and when you grasp his hair and pull, he growls and latches on to your shoulder, biting down. You gasp from the added pain and then you’re coming, shuddering and whining through your release. Bucky isn’t far behind, raising up and fucking into you savagely before pausing abruptly, groaning as he finally comes. He lazily thrusts a few more times to draw it out, then stops, stilling with his cock inside you.

Your hair is sticking to your forehead, as well as your shirt to your clammy back, breathing in lungfuls of air. Bucky is softly caressing your thighs, letting out shaky breaths as your pussy continues to flutter around him.

It takes several moments for you to gather your wits, for the rest of the world to come filtering back in. You are truly and completely fucked now, in every sense of the word.

“Well…” You trail off, voice scratchy.

“That was…”

“Mhm,” you mumble.

Bucky sighs heavily. “Let’s hope it worked this time.”

You hum. “Thank you for your service,” you reply with a lazy salute.

You yelp when he pinches your hip, kicking at him in retaliation. The jostling reminds you, with a gasping groan, that he’s still buried balls deep inside you.

“Um.” You cough lightly. “You wanna, you know… pull out?”

He looks down where you’re connected like it hadn’t even dawned on him. “Oh, uh. Well, I thought maybe it could, like. Help.”

His gaze stays locked, fingers flexing on your hips, and you feel like squirming again.

“I think it’s good,” you say quietly.

Bucky finally glances back up at your shy tone, cheeks pinking. He clears his throat.

“Right.”

Carefully, he eases his softening cock out of you, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from making a noise.

You can’t hold back yours, though, gasping once he’s gone. You feel unbearably empty, but refrain from voicing that incessant thought.

Bucky’s intense eyes stare at your pussy until you reach for the throw blanket next to you. He watches you throw it over your lap, drawing your legs up to your chest, and takes that as his cue, jolting into action.

“Okay, so.” He starts, then stops, climbs off your bed and pulls his sweatpants back up. “This was—I mean, if it doesn’t take this time, we can… try again.”

“Yeah,” you mutter. “Sounds good.”

He nods, bending to pick up his discarded t-shirt. “Great. I’ll just, um, see myself out, I guess.”

You nod, sending a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes in his direction. He seems to contemplate something for a second, then leans down to kiss your forehead before saying a quick goodbye and leaving.

As soon as you hear your apartment door shut, you let your tears fall.

***

It’s not really like you mean to avoid him after that.

Honest.

You simply become busy, that’s all. You definitely don’t go out of your way by taking the stairs in your apartment building to avoid possibly bumping into him in the elevator. No, you take the stairs because you could use the cardio. It’s important you stay healthy right now. And when he texts you to ask if you want to have dinner, you can’t help that you’ve got boatloads of work to catch up on—all five times he asks.

Okay, so, that’s a lie. You’re totally avoiding him. But what on earth are you supposed to say to him now? You don’t think you’d even be able to look him in the eye anymore, not after the fuck of your goddamn life.

That night confirmed what you already knew for the last two years: Bucky absolutely ruined you for anyone else.

More than anything, though, you were angry with yourself. He’d only offered because you weren’t getting your desired results the other way. You should have been able to separate your feelings and emotions from all of it. After all, none of this was about whatever you feel towards Bucky. This was about trying to conceive a baby.

You try telling yourself to get over it. He’s your best friend, you can’t just cut him off because you’re a spineless pansy.

I just need some time, you reason. You can give yourself a few days to wallow over what could have been and then you can reach out to him and pretend like everything is fine. Because it is.

***

Flash forward two weeks to you attempting to sneak into your apartment, only to jump out of your skin when you turn around and find Bucky sitting on your couch, an unreadable expression on his face.

“Oh, good, you’re still alive,” he drawls.

His tone suggests annoyance. You suppose you deserve that.

“Hey,” you say after a pause.

He stares at you for a moment longer before speaking again. “I thought we agreed we wouldn’t let it get weird.”

You agreed, you almost say, thankfully biting it back. You drop your purse on the entryway table, sliding your shoes off and making your way over to sit next to him.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble. You tug your sweater sleeves down and tuck your feet beneath you. “I haven’t ever… I’ve never been intimate with a friend before. It was just… a lot.”

It’s a half truth, at least. You haven’t had sex with a friend before. Or, well, not one you had feelings for.

“You could’ve just told me,” he replies, reaching for your hand.

You nod. “I know, and I should have, I just. Things are all out of whack lately with the whole… trying to get pregnant thing.”

“If I overstepped in any way—” Bucky starts, but you’re quick to interrupt.

“You didn’t,” you promise. “You’ve been nothing but fantastic throughout this whole ordeal. Honestly, Bucky, you’ve done way more than anyone else would have in this situation. I just had a lot going on in my head and let it get the best of me. I’m fine, I swear.”

He searches your eyes and must find what he’s looking for.

“Don’t shut me out again,” he pleads.

Heart cracking in your chest, you can only nod, shuffling closer to pull him into a hug. He buries his face in your neck and holds on tight.

***

Another week passes.

Bucky is with you as you wait for the results of the latest pregnancy test. He’s reassured you that you’ll keep trying until it happens if it didn’t work this time.

When the timer on your phone goes off, you release the breath you’ve been holding. You take tentative steps over to the sink and gingerly pick up the test.

Positive.

Your stomach swoops. It’s positive. You check again, reading the digitized screen, but it stays the same. Positive. Holy shit.

“Okay, wait, no, I need to do more. I can’t get my hopes up again,” you mutter, rushing to open the cabinet under your sink to dig out several more varieties of tests.

You don’t even wait for Bucky to leave before you’re peeing on the other sticks. He’s seen it all at this point anyway, and he doesn’t seem to care, sitting on the edge of your tub with an anxious expression. The downside is that you have to wait another few minutes for these tests to finish and you can’t sit still, pacing back and forth in the small space of your bathroom.

The timer goes off again. You feel like you’re going to throw up when you finally work up the courage to look down.

Every single one of them… Positive.

A shocked, happy laugh escapes you. You cover your mouth, turning to Bucky with wide eyes.

He rises to his full height, coming closer and peering down at the tests, then back to your teary eyed expression.

“Did we…?”

Words failing you, you nod, giggling in astonishment. Bucky’s face breaks into the biggest, handsomest, most gut-wrenching smile. His happiness is palpable and you’re suddenly so overcome with emotion. Your hands are gripping his face and angling it to align your lips to his before you register what you’re doing. He freezes and you hurriedly pull away, taking a few steps back.

“I’m so sorry, I-I don’t know why—”

“Shut up,” he cuts you off, closing the gap between you in a single stride.

He kisses you like his life depends on it, pressing your bodies as close as possible, his hands cupping your cheeks. You clutch his shirt desperately, never wanting to let go. He steals the breath straight from your lungs when he swipes at the seam of your lips with his tongue, moaning happily when you allow him access. A feeble whine from you after he flicks his tongue against yours makes him break the kiss.

“I have a confession,” he breathes into the miniscule space between your mouths.

“What?” you question distractedly.

“I’m in love with you.”

Your gaze shoots up to his, astounded. He brushes stray hairs off your forehead, runs his thumbs softly under your eyes.

“I’ve been selfish this whole time,” he reveals. “I couldn’t let you choose some random stranger to be your sperm donor, to father your child, couldn’t bear the thought of you carrying their baby, because I’ve been in love with you since the moment I met you. I wanted to be the one. And I’m sorry for not telling you sooner, but I’m not sorry I did it.”

You’re hearing the words, yet your brain can’t seem to make sense of them. Surely you’re hearing him wrong. You can’t possibly have this too, right? You can't have Bucky and have his baby…

But he’s here, very real and solid beneath your hands, looking at you like you’re his entire world.

“Bucky…” You trail off, struggling to find the right words, at a complete loss. “I-I’ve loved you for so long now, I didn’t think you…” You shake your head, a giggle escaping you as you stare at him in wonder. “I couldn’t let myself hope.”

He grins, relieved, planting a few chaste kisses to your mouth. “I know this entire circumstance is totally backwards, but I want you, and I want this baby. I meant it when I said I’m not going anywhere.”

Fresh tears gather in the corners of your eyes. “Are you sure?” you still ask.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

You have to kiss him then, uncaring of the tears that trickle down your face. The only thing you are focused on is the way his hands trail down your back, pausing to squeeze your ass, then grip underneath to lift you. Your legs wrap around his waist, arms locked around his neck, as he heads for your bed. He makes a point of throwing your extra pillows on the floor before settling between your thighs and kissing the hell out of you.

He pulls away only to undress you and himself, but he’s always back as quickly as possible, lips pressing kisses wherever he can reach. You impatiently tug at him until his lips are attached to yours again. The way he fucks his tongue into your mouth is nothing short of indecent and it sends a rush of pure want all the way to your core.

When you bury your fingers in his hair, gripping it tight, he grunts, biting your lip. You whimper and he grins as he pulls away.

“You make the most beautiful sounds,” he praises, his hands beginning to sweep down and up, tickling under your breasts.

His thumb and forefinger pinch one of your nipples and you gasp, back arching off your mattress. He repeats it on the other side, just to hear the same noise.

“Bucky, please,” you beg.

“Please what?” he prods. His hands drift further to the creases of your thighs, spreading them open. “What do you need?”

You whine, canting your hips up. “You, I need you, please.”

“You have me, sweetheart.” He tilts his head and you make a noise of frustration. “Use your words, darlin’.”

“Fuck me, please,” you burst out, feeling your pussy clench around nothing.

Bucky smiles, slow and torturous. “Yeah? Want me to fuck you? Fuck this perfect pussy until you’re so full of my come that it drips down your beautiful thighs?”

“Oh god,” you mumble.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he teases.

His fingers slide down your slit, gathering your slick then thrusts two fingers in at once. You groan brokenly, shifting your hips to try and get more friction, but he holds them down with his metal arm. Agonizingly slow, he begins fucking you with his fingers. It’s good, it’s amazing, but it’s not enough. Not when you know what his cock feels like. He takes his precious time fingering you and you’re sure you’re going to lose your mind before the day is done.

“You have no idea how incredible you felt around my cock,” he tells you in a ridiculously conversational tone. “I was trying to think of any excuse I could come up with to have you at least one more time.”

He shifts until his mouth is directly above where you’re dripping for him, and he waits until you make eye contact with him.

“But now I’m gonna spend the rest of my life making you come apart on my cock any chance I get.”

You hardly have any functioning brain cells at the moment, but even if you could form a coherent sentence you wouldn’t have been able to say it aloud, because then he’s descending and all you can feel is the wet warmth of his mouth.

He definitely doesn’t hold back this time, that much is apparent in the way he devours you, lips and tongue drawing out noises you’ve never heard yourself make, pressing his face so far into your pussy that he has to come up for air. His mouth and chin shine when you chance a look down, and when you clench on his fingers his smile goes smug at the corners.

He plants kisses along your hips, the insides of your thighs, around where his fingers are buried within you. He curls them, in search of the spot he found last time. He knows he found it when you try to close your thighs around his head and cry out. Now that he's found it, he angles to brush it on every thrust of his fingers and attaches his mouth back on your clit.

You chant his name, nearly sobbing as you approach your climax, until finally you fly over the edge. Your vision blurs and you’re not sure if you’re making any noise now, unable to hear past the blood rushing in your ears. Bucky helps you ride it out until you’re shuddering from sensitivity.

He kisses your thighs again, trailing them up your stomach and between the valley of your breasts.

“So good, did so well,” he mutters.

Weakly, you lift your hands to trace them down his toned stomach and around his back, down further so you can cop a feel of your own, smiling at his grunt of surprise.

“That was great and all,” you say, arching your back so your chest presses against his, “but I do believe I asked you to fuck me.”

He arches an eyebrow. “Who said I was done with you?” It’s apparently a rhetorical question, as he continues before you get a chance to reply. “I’m gonna fuck you until you come, and then I’m gonna keep fucking you until you come again, and only then will I come so deep inside you there’ll be zero doubt I’ve put a baby there.”

Your legs are lifted and thrown over his shoulders in a blink, his cock pushing into your pussy, dragging out a high-pitched moan from you. There’s barely a pause and then he’s fucking you, just like you asked. The pace is brutal right from the start, a steady rhythm that has you mewling and writhing in pleasure. Bucky is watching his cock as he thrusts in and out of you, his mouth hanging open slightly as he pants. He hikes your hips up a little higher and you jolt through your startled moan. This angle is divine and the telltale signs of your second orgasm start tingling at the base of your spine.

“Can feel you,” Bucky says through panting breaths, “so close. C’mon, let me feel you.”

He pulls you down on his cock, grinding into you, his thumb reaching to rub tight circles over your clit. You sob through your release, shuddering against Bucky as you clench around him. He groans, still barely moving as you come down from your high.

“Fuck,” he grunts. “Come here.”

He helps you sit up, still seated on his cock, making you both hiss from your movement. Your arms automatically wrap around his shoulders and his around your waist. He kisses you so sweetly, a stark contradiction to the way he just fucked you. When you pull away, resting your foreheads together, he grins.

“Hi.”

You crack a smile. “Hi.”

“Ready for more?” he asks, wiggling his eyebrows.

“You think you got it in you?” you tease as you play with the hair at the nape of his neck.

The light smack to your ass startles you and you let out a soft sound of surprise, hands tugging his hair harshly. Bucky’s eyes light up.

“Interesting,” he muses.

Another slap, a little harder than the first, and you’re whimpering, your walls clenching around his still hard cock.

“I’ll play with that later,” he promises, voice breathy.

You bury your face in his neck and start shifting your hips. He takes the hint, gathering you as close as he can and thrusts up into you. He can’t pull out as far this way, but the snap of his hips more than makes up for it. You mouth at his collarbone messily, kissing and licking your way up to his jaw, biting marks wherever you see fit. You make it up to his mouth and he kisses you, wet and filthy. You suck on his tongue and a ragged moan claws its way out of his throat. The need for air eventually has you pulling away.

“It’s a good thing you love me back,” you whisper in his ear. “Nobody else could ever compare to you.”

He growls, fisting your hair and yanking your head back to look him in the eye.

“Nobody will ever compare,” he corrects.

You moan. “Yes,” you agree, whining, “No one else could’ve given me a baby.”

Bucky thrusts harder and faster at your words. You’re picking up on a few hints and you can’t say it’s not doing it for you either.

“Filled me up so good, fucked me so well. Gonna be round with your baby soon.”

“Fuck, fuck,” he keens, hurrying to lay you flat on your back so he can fuck into you easier.

The sound of skin meeting skin fills the room, your cries of pleasure mixing in with Bucky’s grunts and curses. His grip on you tightens almost painfully as he chases both your and his orgasm. You’re sure to have bruises tomorrow and you already know you'll be poking at them to remember this moment.

“C’mon, baby, wanna feel you too,” you beg.

His thumb finds your swollen clit once more. It’s beyond sensitive now, feels like a shockwave coursing through you, and without any warning, you come. You spasm around Bucky and he swears under his breath, thrusts going sloppy. With a final groan, he comes inside you, his hips moving seemingly on their own as he draws out both your pleasures. Slowly, he comes to a stop, but he leaves his cock buried in you like he did last time.

You know you’re gonna feel too empty when he does pull out, so you don’t mind sitting like this for a while. Bucky softly runs his hands across every inch of your skin he can touch and you bask in the affection. You card your fingers through his sweaty hair, smiling when he hums happily. It takes only a minute for you to notice the way his hands migrate to your stomach, and when you do you kiss his shoulder.

“Maybe we should go again later,” you suggest faintly.

Bucky grins. “We can do it a hundred more times if you want.”

“Guess I better enjoy it while I can.”

His smile goes soft at the edges.

It’s not lost on you how incredibly crazy all of this is. There will undoubtedly be a conversation, a much needed one that isn’t going to be simple or easy, but it’s necessary.

For now, though, you bask in Bucky’s warmth and loving embrace.

***

Keys jingle as they unlock the door and you perk up where you’re sprawled on the couch. Bucky enters, arms laden with bags from the convenience store.

“They didn’t have the banana ice cream you asked for,” he announces, continuing before your pout fully forms, “but they did have the double chocolate brownie kind you love so much, so I got that, as well as the sour gummy worms, beef jerky, and fried pickles from the deli on your list of demands.”

“What about—”

“And your strawberry Fanta,” he adds with a fond, slightly exasperated smile.

You’re unable to stop your expression from going soft and dreamy.

Ever since you and Bucky figured out where to go with your relationship, he’s been even more attentive and accommodating (and that’s saying something).

You expressed your worry about the possibility of something going wrong, that one or both of you would get bored and leave, or there’d be a big fight that neither of you could forgive. He was quick to reassure you of his commitment, told you there was no way he would ever get bored of you, and that as long as you both promise to talk things out in a calm, mature way, then you’d be alright.

It all sounded so easy when it was put like that. The more you thought about it, though, the more you realized he was right. It wasn’t fair to either of you to already give up before you’d even started. So you’d taken a deep breath and leaped.

Now, you’re five and a half months in, your belly steadily growing and making everyday life increasingly uncomfortable. The changes to your body were physically and emotionally draining, to say the least. Moreso the emotional side. You’d hoped you wouldn’t be one of those pregnant women with strange cravings, and for the most part they were pretty tame, but you do like to dip your sour gummy worms in banana ice cream. Bucky didn’t attempt to hide his disgust over that.

“What did I do to deserve you?” you ask on a pleased sigh.

He places your small cornucopia of goods on the coffee table. You sit up, huffing for breath during the struggle. You go to reach for the ice cream first, but Bucky catches your hand, lacing his fingers with yours and kissing your knuckles as he kneels in front of you.

“You were yourself. Smart, kind, selfless, unbelievably sexy.” You snort at that, but he’s undeterred. “And you’re giving me the best gift I could ever dream of. A family.”

Instantly, you’re crying. He’s grown accustomed to the mood swings by now, taking it in stride as he wipes away the tears with gentle hands.

“Stop being so disgusting,” you blubber through your hiccuping cries. “You’re such an asshole.”

Bucky laughs. “I love you too, sweetheart.”

You sniffle, kissing him. “Love you,” you grumble.

He leans down and plants the softest of kisses to your belly. “And I love you, little lady.”

The idea of you having a child one day always seemed foreign and unlikely, but life has a way of turning out exactly how it’s supposed to… And you wouldn’t change a thing.

[storiesfromafan]

Catching Feelings - Mattheo x Reader

A/N: not sure how I feel about this one, but I decided to post it anyways haha.

Prompt: “What part of I want you, and only you, do you not understand?” “And what part of why would you? Don’t you not understand?”

It had started out a casual hook up. Snog in a deserted hallway. Some over the clothing petting in the dungeons. Sneaking around in the Astronomy Tower for some no pants fun. It was great for you and Mattheo. The thrills and fun without the attachments a relationship entailed.

Well it had been great. Until Mattheo started to act weird, both with his words and wanting more time with you. Even when no pants time seemed to take a while to get too. He would make small talk, while you were the one to undo his tie and unbutton his shirt. And when he grasped your hands, halting what you were wanting to get too. That was it.

“Forget it" you sighed in frustration, grabbing your discarded cardigan before taking off back to the Slytherin common room.

He called out to stop you, tried to persuade you to stay. But it was no use, you were gone. And Mattheo sat there frustrated in more ways than one. For he physically wanted you, the evidence in his pants making it obvious. But he was also emotionally attached to you. Wanting to be around you, talk to you, hold you, kiss you. The guy was enthralled with you, bewitched mind and body. He wasn't quiet at soul, but part of him thought you were kindred spirits.

The following few days you avoided him. Keeping to yourself and always with a friend. And that was pissing Mattheo off. No to mention having this time to think clearly, Mattheo realised that what had been fun, looks to have turned into him liking you. And he now wasn't just mad with you, but also himself. For Mattheo Riddle doesn't catch feelings. He isn't meant to be a one girl kind of guy. Yet, he was willing to try it with you.

Getting a chance, though a sliver of one, you had just walked out of the female's lavatory. Grabbing your arm, Mattheo dragged you into a deserted hall, away from anyone or any noise. Once it sunk in to who had grabbed you, you yanked your arm from their hold.

“What the Hell Mattheo!?” You whispered yelled, glaring daggers at the male before you.

The male in questioned, did his best to look unfazed. Yet wondered if you had felt the sweat on his hands, or hear how his heart was racing. Could you see through his act? For he felt there were chips in the mask on his face.

“Why have you been avoiding me?” He asked with as flat a voice he could.

You looked at him for a moment, before sighing and crossing your arms over your chest. “Really? This is why you kidnapped me".

“I didn't kidnap you. I dragged you. You're free to leave anytime" he retorted with a soft glare.

“Fine" was all you said, moving to walk back the way you had come.

With two steps Mattheo moved to block you. Sputtering out a bunch of words that even he didn’t understand. But after he took a second to un-jumble his thoughts. Mattheo explained that he had only wanted to talk, and give him five minutes. You mulled it out before saying, alright I'll give you five minutes.

“Why have you been avoiding me (Y/N/N)? I waited in the Astronomy Tower the other night, but you didn't show up...” the last part came out a little whiny, which made Mattheo cringe.

Again you sighed. “I don't know...maybe I thought you'd want to talk" you replied dropping your bag on a bench, looking over the bust of some old witch.

“What's so wrong with talking...?” Mattheo asked quietly.

You shot him a are you serious look. “I thought this" – you gestured between you both – “was casual. In other words, no talking or attachment".

Mattheo straightened up, “well...ah, yeah?”

“Really?” You stared him down, not buying his words.

Mattheo sighed. He couldn't deny it further, could he?

“Look Mattheo, it's best we end it here. Cut our losses, yeah?” You finally said, voice void of emotion.

You grabbed your bag, slinging it over your shoulder. You walked past him and patted him on the back. Sharing some last parting words with the Slytherin male. When you were done, and no response from Mattheo, you began to head back to the populated halls.

As if being struck by lightening, Mattheo shot around, eyes wide watching your retreating form. “I like you!” He blurted out.

You paused, about to round the corner. You stood there for a minute, which had Mattheo thinking you may not have heard him. Finally you slowly turned around, eyes drawn together in confusion. Slowly you moved back to him, yet kept some distance between you both.

“Come again?” You finally croaked out.

Mattheo fidgeted from foot too foot, gaze looking anywhere but at you. He felt like a child that was in trouble. “I said...I like you...”

Slowly you nodded. “That's what I thought you said", you paused for a moment to think over your next lot of words carefully. “Look, Mattheo...I'm not the girl for you. I am uncaring, mouthy and too smart for the good of anyone”.

“That's fine with me" he replied quickly, staring you in the eyes.

You sighed. “Why would you? You can do better then me".

And with that you turned and began to walk off once more. Again Mattheo called out to you, sputtering out for you to stop or wait, and other things. But this time you didn't let up. Which lead to Mattheo being hot on your heels. Thankfully no students were around, but you could hear them in the distance.

“What part of I want you, and only you, do you not understand?” Mattheo called, anger rising when his attempts to get you to talk to him failed.

Finally you stopped, turning around to glare at the male. “And what part of why would you? Don’t you not understand?” was your retort.

The sound that came out of Mattheo's mouth was a cross between a cry of frustration and anguish of pain. Gripping his hair, he noted how you were so frustrating. Why wouldn’t you want him? Was there someone else you wanted to be with? If so, who, so he could take care of them. Was he ugly? Both physically and personality wise? His mind was swimming with questions.

“Mattheo...” you said softly, grabbing his attention. “This, you and me wouldn't work. And you know that. We're too different. Let's just...let it be".

When you got no response from Mattheo, you took that as your cue to leave. And off you went. While Mattheo stood there. Crushed, but determined. Determined to win you over. He believe part of you had to feel the same, or partially at least. Maybe you were scared, he liked to tell himself. Yes, that's what he was going with. And he would get you. No matter what or the cost.

[grandprixprincess]

hermana part 2 || ln4

lando norris x fem!reader smau + written

part 1!

warnings: some language, slightly steamy scene (no smut but mdni!!), carlos being a protective big brother and lando being down bad

a/n: thanks for all the love on part 1! I decided to do a mix of written + smau for this part. requests are open for smau and text fics <3

landonorris posted

liked by maxfewtrell, yourusername, maxverstappen1, and others

landonorris perfect day in the sun with the best company. getting lots of rest and relaxation before the triple header 🤙

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user1 "best company" aka just y/n

user2 wait she was with him again today??? user1 yes! f1gossip just posted the photos. they were alone all day 👀

user3 omg this means y/n took these pics! y/n.jpg when?

maxfewtrell looks like my invite got lost

user4 💀💀💀

yourusername ☀️🤗

user5 queen y/n thank u for taking these great pics

f1gossip posted

liked by user1, user2, and others

f1gossip Lando Norris and Y/N Y/L/N were spotted getting cozy this afternoon. The two embarked on a private yacht for an afternoon filled with swimming and laughter. Eyewitnesses say the two were alone all afternoon. It seems like things are rapidly heating up with these two. The next time Y/L/N is seen in the paddock, will she be rocking red ❤️ or papaya 🧡?

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user2 LANY/N NATION WAKE UP

user3 i can't believe lany/n is real omg

user1 right?? people used to ship them during the carlando mclaren days and now it's REAL

user4 the hand placement omgggg

user5 i wonder what carlos thinks

user2 who cares? it's their lives not his

user6 y/n in papaya at the austin gp pleaseee

user5 ain't no way. she'll always support carlos first, he is basically her brother

yourusername posted a close friends story

story replies:

yourbestfriend not the private yacht on the FIRST DATE

yourusername technically our first date is tomorrow night yourbestfriend literally stfu you know what i meant

carlossainz55 don't stay out too late

yourusername 🙄

landonorris posted a close friends story

story replies:

maxfewtrell did you tell her that you've been secretly in love with her for like 5 years yet or

landonorris OBVIOUSLY NOT i'm trying to play it cool

oscarpiastri I think I missed a chapter

carlossainz55 get my sister back home early cabrón

landonorris leave us alone carlos carlossainz55 excuse me? landonorris NO SORRY THAT WAS Y/N SHE TOOK MY PHONE landonorris I'll make sure she gets home safe mate! 👍

You giggled as you watched Lando frantically type a message back to Carlos. "Sorry, I couldn't help myself!"

You played with the stem of your wine glass. It had been a dream of a day. You were now sharing a bottle of wine together to end the night.

"Your brother is going to have my head!" He finished typing his message out, feeling satisfied, before setting his phone back down.

Fighting the urge to roll your eyes, you said, "You know he isn't really my brother, right?"

Lando chuckled. "You try telling him that."

"Yeah, yeah, I know." You swirled your glass a bit, taking another sip. "He's always been protective like that."

Lando let out another chuckle. "Oh trust me, I know."

His response and tone piqued your interest. You turned your head towards him, seeing a sly smile on his handsome face. "What do you mean?"

Lando opened and closed his mouth for a few moments, contemplating his words. Finally, he spoke. "I may have tried to ask you out in the past, but Carlos sort of, put a stop to it."

Your jaw dropped in shock. "What?!" You tried to fully understand what he was saying. "When was this exactly?"

Without hesitation, Lando responded, "During Carlos' last year in McLaren."

The shock was evident on your face. Silence rang in the air as you tried to find your words. Lando took the opportunity to speak again.

"And again during his first year in Ferrari."

"What?!" You couldn't believe what you were hearing. When Carlos was at McLaren, you were taking a few years off from school to travel. Traveling the world ended up being easy to do when Carlos agreed to let you tag along to all the races as his "assistant". Carlos was on a new team in F1 with a rookie teammate that was your age. You and Lando became friends quickly, and it wasn't long until you began to harbor a crush on him.

It was a secret only you and Y/BSF/N knew about. You definitely didn't tell Carlos, because you knew how that would go.

Once Carlos left McLaren, you went back to school and your appearances at the races dwindled down to one or two a year. You and Lando went from spending every weekend together running around the paddock, to seeing each other in passing as you made your way to Ferrari and he made his way to McLaren.

"That little shit. I'm going to kill him."

You weren't sure if it was the wine or just how carefree and fun everything with Lando was, but you couldn't stop the fit of giggles that escaped you. After a few moments, Lando joined you in your laughter. Tears began to escape both your eyes.

As the laughter died down, the moment suddenly felt very intimate. Lando's face was extremely close, the rest of the world melting away. "I'm pretty sure I started having a crush on you after that first race weekend." You suddenly felt shy, but you couldn't stop the confession from slipping out.

Now it was Lando's turn to express his surprise, his eyes widening for a moment. He searched your face for a moment, almost like he was waiting for you to tell him you were kidding. Finally, he spoke.

"I really want to kiss you."

You were grateful that the sun had fully gone down now, so there was minimal lighting to help hide the blush creeping on your cheeks. Your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest as you whispered out, "Why don't you?"

Lando's adoring gaze had you captivated. "I've wanted to do it for so long now," he confessed, "I want to do it right."

You couldn't help the sly smirk on your face as you teased, "I think we've been pining after each other long enough, don't you think?"

Lando reached his hand forward, cradling your cheek in his hand. His thumb brushed against your cheek, causing goosebumps down your arms.

You wanted to live in this moment forever; Lando being this close, his lips inches from yours. Finally, you both instinctively moved forward, your lips colliding after what felt like an eternity.

You both stilled for a moment, trying to rack your brains over the realization that this was actually and finally happening. After a few seconds, you melted into the kiss, sliding your hands up to rest around his neck.

The two of you moved in sync. It felt like your lips were made for each other. Lando's hand around your head tightened, while his second hand found its home on your waist. One of your hands slide up Lando's neck and into his hair, playing with his curls lightly.

Lando slightly pinched your waist, causing you to gasp, which allowed for his tongue to sneak in. You responded with a slight tug on his curls, causing a groan to escape out of him and into your mouth.

You giggled slightly, breaking the kiss for a moment. "You like that, huh?"

Even though it was dark, you could see how Lando's eyes darkened. With no shame, he responded, "Yes," suddenly his hands slipped down, grabbing your thighs and easily moving you to straddle his lap, "You have no idea the effect anything you do has on me."

Now you were sure it was the wine giving you confidence when you ground your body down to feel his already hard erection. "Oh, I think I have somewhat of an idea." Your hands slipped back into his curls at the nape of his neck, tugging softly.

You relished in the way that Lando's eyes fluttered shut, his hands moving to your hips, guiding them as you continued to grind your body with his.

Lando was putty in your hands. You began to feel the heat in your core. You tugged on Lando's curls again, pulling his head back and eliciting a small moan from his lips.

Bringing your head down, your lips connected with his jaw, peppering him with open mouth kisses on both sides of his face before moving down to his neck.

Lando continued guiding the movement of your hips, his hands tightening around your waist and moving them faster as he felt your lips on his neck. You couldn't hold back the moan that escaped your lips, letting it ring out right in Lando's ear.

Lando was sure he was in heaven. Your moans were music to his ears.

He let one hand leave your hip and travel to your face, bringing you back towards his lips. Your lips collided again, this time with more urgency and desperation.

You both couldn't believe that you had let all these years go by wasted, when you could've been doing this the whole time. You were kissing each other like your lives depended on it.

Lando's hand moved up and down your sides, squeezing slightly, causing another moan to escape from you, and allowing his tongue entrance again.

You moved your hands down his chest, and began to play with the hem of his shirt.

Lando suddenly broke the kiss, breaking the blissful bubble you two had been caught up in.

"We should stop."

You felt fear creep up on you. Had you done something wrong? Did he not want this anymore? As if he could read your worries on your face, he softly brought his lips to yours again for a moment.

"Trust me, I don't want to stop," he began, chuckling lightly, "but I told you. I want to do this right."

You softened at his words. "You're right." You lazily played with his curls again. "Feels like we have to make up for so much lost time, but I'm not going anywhere."

Lando chuckled. "Me either. Now that I know you want me like I want you, you're never getting rid of me." Lando gave you a goofy grin. He moved his hand up, playing with a strand of your hair for a moment before tucking it behind you ear, "I could spend all night making up for lost time, and even then I guarantee I would be leaving wanting more."

You blushed, grateful again for the minimal lighting. Words lost you. Instead, you just gazed lovingly into Lando's eyes.

"Plus, Carlos told me to make sure you're home early, so..."

Lando relished in the way you rolled your eyes and chuckled softly.

The two of you always felt deep down that you had missed out on something great with each other. Now the universe was giving you a second chance to act on it.

yourusername posted

liked by yourbestfriend, iamrebeccad, landonorris, charles_leclerc, and others

yourusername 🌊🤙🖕

tagged: carlossainz55, iamrebeccad

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user1 not tagging lando is crazy 💀 girl we know

user2 shhhh let them cook up a soft launch user3 why would she tag him in this tho user1 that's literally lando's jolly lol

charles_leclerc hahaha the last photo

yourusername yeah that's actually me to carlos rn charles_leclerc never a dull moment with you two 😂😂

user2 her and lando used the same emoji. she posts his car but doesn't tag. he's in the likes. the soft launch of the century is about to begin. in this essay, I will-

user4 carlos in that pic is him reading these comments fr

user5 lando behind the camera of that first pic like 😍🤳

user1 we need y/n on lando.jpg stat

As you waited impatiently for Carlos to return home, your phone chimed, signaling another text had come through. You rolled your eyes, thinking it would be another message from Carlos, but you felt your heart skip a beat seeing Lando's name across your screen.

"Maybe Carlito thought you didn't like him, and was trying to help you out."

You stared at your sister's face on the screen in disbelief. "You're supposed to be on my side here."

Your sister laughed. "I am! I just also know Carlos wouldn't do something like this without a valid reason."

You heard a jingle at the door. "Speak of the devil, he's back."

"Call me later, don't give him a hard time, mana." She gave you a wave. "Oh, and have fun tomorrow night."

"I will, talk to you later." You gave your sister a wave back before ending the call.

You got up from your spot on the couch, walking towards the front door. You stood with your arms crossed as the door opened slowly. Suddenly Rebecca's head popped into view. You gave her a small smile.

"Your brother is behind me waving a white flag."

You couldn't help but laugh. "There shall be peace."

Carlos slowly came into view, his hands raised in defeat. He walked hesitantly towards you, waiting for you to react. Rebecca walked past you, giving your shoulder a light squeeze before disappearing into the bedroom.

"I don't want to argue, mano. I just don't understand."

Carlos stared at you for a moment before leading you back to the couch, sitting down and signaling you to do the same. "Listen, back then, you were so young and I was supposed to be looking after you on the road," he started, "and I know how it is once you get to F1. The fame, media, parties..." he paused for a moment, "The girls." He waited a beat before saying, "That's why I'm telling you to be careful with him now."

You had to fight the urge to roll your eyes. "Lando and I used to have movie nights every race weekend while you and other drivers would go out to clubs and party." You looked down, nervously playing with your hands. "And yeah, I know he does go out now and that he's been seen with different girls, but I know deep down he's still that same guy."

"You guys were kids back then, but now? Lando is usually the first to arrive and the last to leave the club now, always a different girl on his arm."

You finally looked Carlos in the eye, whispering out, "So you think I'm just another girl for him to flaunt around until he gets bored?" You felt your face get hot due to a mix of anger and shame. "I'm not good enough to be something real for him?"

The regret was evident on Carlos' face the second after you spoke. "No, no, hermana, you know that's not what I mean."

"Then what is it? Is it because he's your friend?"

Carlos chuckled. "No, no," he sighed, "I knew you liked him back then. I saw how you looked at him. That dreamy, goofy gleam in your eyes," he said, "and when Lando came to me and said he wanted to ask you out, I panicked."

You were listening intently now. "Why?" you whispered out.

"I think it was the first time I realized you were growing up. The idea of my hermanita dating anyone, nevertheless a driver, freaked me out." He laughed. "I just wanted to protect you from the craziness that comes with being with an F1 driver; I still do."

"Lando said he respects you, and that's why he stayed away back then. But now we're adults, and we're making our own decisions without interference from others." You couldn't stop the smile from creeping back onto your face. "I've always liked him, mano. I want to see where this goes."

Carlos couldn't help but match your smile. He liked seeing you this happy, and if that was because of Lando, then he was willing to be open-minded. "Okay, okay, I'm on board," he chuckled, "but I told you already. If he breaks your heart, he goes into the wall."

You rolled your eyes playfully. "You'd have to catch up to his rocketship in your tractor first."

Carlos' jaw dropped, disbelief written on his face. "I can't believe I've already lost you to the papaya army."

You let out a laugh, nudging his shoulder. "Hey, family always comes first. I'm a Ferrari girl first, papaya girlie second."

"Good, because that would be where I'd draw the line."

"I'm ready for next year, though. Blue is much more my color."

The two of you shared a laugh, before Carlos leaned over to end the moment with a hug. "I love you, hermanita."

"Love you too, Carlitos."

As you and Carlos embraced, you heard a door open slightly. Rebecca appeared, smile evident on her face, happy to see Carlos back in your good graces.

"Anyone down for a late night ice cream run?"

yourusername posted stories

story 2 caption: making them pay for my ice cream like: 🥺 👉👈 i'm just a baby

story replies to story 1:

user1 LANY/N ANTHEM???

user2 "we were supposed to be just friends" omg omg omg

yourbestfriend dude has my girl posting love songs on main already 😭😭😭

yourusername 😂

landonorris is this what they call a soft launch

yourusername 😂🫣 maybe landonorris hmm brb yourusername huh?

story replies to story 2:

yoursister hahaha he really said here have some ice cream pls forgive me

yourusername no but fr 💀

user3 girl you can't just post that song and move on this quickly!!

landonorris posted a story

story replies:

danielricciardo is little lando norris in love???

yourusername 🥹😭

landonorris ❤️

user1 oh ya'll are in LOVEEEE

user2 you guys ain't slick posting these back to back 😭

carlossainz55 thanks a lot, she won't stop playing this song now

oscarpiastri okay I DEFINITELY missed a chapter

a/n: yep there will be a part 3 because I can't stop myself lol if you'd like to be tagged, let me know!

Part 3

tag list: @npcmia @tinyhrry @that-one-little-soybean

[coco-cinnamon]

Better Than Me?

౨ৎ Warnings: cursing, drinking, Y/N being a bit of a player (I've never wrote Y/N doing that so lmao), sexual themes, degrading, smut, Rafe being an ass but, when is he not lol 18+ MDNI.

౨ৎ Pairings: Rafe Cameron x Female Kook Reader.

౨ৎ Summary: When Y/N is at a party, she messes with Rafe, pretending like she's tired of him and going to go to Topper for her new sex buddy but, Rafe makes sure she learns her lesson.

౨ৎ Word Count: 900+ words.

౨ৎ Author's Note: this was originally supposed to be a re-write of one of my old Topper fics but, it turned into a Rafe fic lmao. I'll post the old Topper fic soon.

©coco-cinnamon 2024, please do not steal, copy, modify, repost, or translate my work.

Sipping your beer from a red solo cup, you surveyed the lively party. The pulsing music reverberated in your chest, as Rafe Cameron's parties always went all out. When one of your friends caught your eye and waved you over to the dance floor, you smiled back, ready to join her. But before you could make your way through the crowd, a hand suddenly gripped your arm.

Attempting to pull your arm away, you snap, "What the fuck?!" But it's no use - their grip is like iron around your arm. You whip yourself around to see who had grabbed you. Looking up, you're met with ocean blue eyes staring down into yours, hazy with lust. "What the fuck do you want, Rafe?" you ask, finally managing to yank your arm out of his grip. He just smirks at you, his eyes a mix of amusement and lust. "That isn't any way to greet the host, is it?"

You crossed your arms, your gaze piercing up at him. "Again, what the hell do you want?" you asked.

He smirked. "Well, I figured since you came to my party, we could head up to my bedroom. I'm sure we could do way more interesting things up there than you would be able to do over there with your friends."

You cocked a brow, considering his words. He watched you, his impatience growing evident on his face. With a sarcastic smile, you said, "Thanks, but no thanks," and began to turn away. Before you could fully turn around and walk off, he yanked you back to face him again. Rolling your eyes, you groaned, "what now?"

"I thought we had something good going on here." he said, tilting his head quizzically. "We did, at first." you replied with a small shrug. His jaw clenched slightly as he growled, "What do you mean 'at first'?" Maintaining a calm demeanor and a small smirk, you replied, "Exactly what I said. At first, we had a pretty sweet thing, but then I got bored. Plain and simple." You crossed your arms as you continued, "You care more about your own pleasure than mine, so I'm no longer interested."

Rafe scoffed bitterly. "No longer interested? That's bullshit, Y/N, and you know it. You and I both know there's no one here who can make you feel as good as I do. No one knows your body like I do. Do you really think any of these idiots could make you cum the way I can?" He growled, tightening his grip on your shoulders.

You smirked up at him. "Maybe, maybe not. But it's worth a shot to see if anyone can do better. As of right now, I've got my eye on him." You gestured towards Topper Thornton, who was across the room drinking and chatting with Kelce. Rafe let out a mocking laugh, as if the very notion was absurd. "Really?! Topper Thornton is who you're interested in?" he scoffed. "That's got to be a joke, Y/N. You'd actually lower your standards that much?"

"I think I already lowered my standards when I started sleeping with you," you retorted with a smirk, knowing you were getting under his skin. You begin to speak once again, "I mean, Topper is very attractive. Or if you'd rather, I could go and sleep with Maybank. I know for a fact that he'd know how to—"

But you get cut off as Rafe's hand suddenly wraps around your throat. He yanks you forward, his nose only inches from yours. The height difference causes you to rise up on your tiptoes. "Cut it out Y/N or I swear to god I will take you up those fucking stairs right now and fuck your ass so hard that you won't be able to walk the next day." He said, his voice lethally soft. You look up at him, remaining defiant as a a smirk playing on your lips before you speak "I think I'd rather Topper over there to fuck me."

"You want Topper to fuck you?! Fine!" He snaps, his grip around your throat tightening slightly as he continues, "but just know that I will make you beg on your fucking hands and knees when you crawl back to me, begging me for my cock because Topper couldn't fuck you properly." With that, he roughly drops you. You glance over to where Topper stands with Kelce, then shift your gaze back to Rafe. He smirks down at you, tilting his head. "Well? What are you waiting for? I thought you wanted to whore yourself out to Topper." His grin widens as he sees your face twist with annoyance. "Or are you having second thoughts?"

You glared at him before turning around and starting to make your way towards Topper. But before you could reach him, Rafe came over and grabbed you, throwing you over his shoulder. He then smacked your ass roughly, eliciting a squeak from you.

"I- what the hell, Rafe?!" you yelled as he carried you towards the stairs. "Did you really think I was going to let you fuck him? You're mine, Y/N, and by the end of the night the only name that will be able to leave your lips is mine," he growled.

౨ৎ Author's Note: tysm for reading, babes! part two coming soon!