#shout out to the people that made these gifs youre amazing
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
thank you
you never thought you'd be murdered in the middle of an alley... but you also never thought you'd be saved by a man with knives in his fists so... yeah.
CW: suggestive, profanity, the dude that attacks you is clinically insane, Logan's a little socially awkward, your power is kinda bad but kinda good, etc.
It was amazing how quick your day could go from fantastic, to an absolute, fucking shit storm.
Waking up that morning, as you went through your morning routine, something in the air just told you that everything was going to go right.
Your curls turned out perfect after your nightly twist, your makeup flawless, accentuating your natural beauty, and your breakfast sandwich tasted especially delicious.
That, along with the relatively quiet day at the hospital, left you leaving work with a certain pep in your step that made you feel like you could take on anything.
So not once did you plan to end up in the middle of a dark alleyway, and not once did you plan to stand off with a shady, seemingly dangerous, man because of it.
You were too lost in the music of your earphones to notice you had taken a wrong turn, a rookie mistake to make so late at night.
A mistake you were currently cursing yourself for.
"Look," you started, hands up and voice calm in an attempt to placate the irritated man. "I didn't mean to walk over here. I'm just trying to get home."
Slowly, he stalked closer, stance low and beady eyes staring at you in a way that made your stomach drop, and blood run cold.
'Shit.'
"Please... I don't want any trouble," you continued, taking a few steps back, "Just let me pass."
He tutted in response, wagging his finger as a sadistic grin slowly rose to his lips, "People who trespass on my territory gotta pay a toll, sweetheart," he licked his teeth, words slurring together, "and I can see you got more than enough..."
Shamelessly, his eyes dragged over your body, the surface of your skin erupting with a feel of grime and dirt.
You'd need a serious shower when you got home.
If you made it home...
As he drew closer, your hand discreetly slid into your jean jacket pocket, latching onto the cool, metal handle of your switchblade.
You were hoping to de-escalate the situation, but with the way things were looking, you knew you'd probably have to fight your way out.
"I'm only gonna ask one more time," you warned, your tone curt as your expression sharpened into a glare. "Let me go."
Without warning, he let out a manic shout, charging for you at full force.
You let out a shriek of surprise, quickly moving out the way before he could tackle you, whipping your blade out your pocket and flicking it open in one fluid motion.
Quickly, he turned around, expression furious as he ran again, hands out in an attempt to grab you.
And as you tried to dodge, he managed to latch onto the back of your scrub, roughly throwing you to the ground with a grunt.
"Fuck!" you spat, head throbbing as you attempted to sit up, your chest pounding as he grabbed your ankles and dragged you closer.
Fear struck your heart like a freight train, and in a bout of panic, you swung your knife, plunging it into the closest thing you could reach.
He let out a roar of pain, dropping your ankles as he nursed his injured foot, and the handle sticking out of it would've been funny were it not for the dire situation.
Quickly, you scrambled to your feet, stumbling towards your purse which laid on the ground not too far away.
But the man took notice, his foot becoming a thing of the past as he chased you again, scooping up a large shard of broken glass as he ran.
"Get away!" you cried, hugging your purse into your chest as his charge backed you into a corner, your legs giving out as you slid down the wall.
Horrible visions of your fate flashed through your mind as he approached, images of your lifeless body plastered on the nightly news, or your smiling picture on a missing persons poster.
What a fabulous time for your power to chime in...
You squeezed your eyes shut, bracing yourself for whatever was to come, when a loud shink and a pained grunt cut through the air.
Forcing your eyes back open, they landed on a figure, who stood over the dead body of your attacker.
The way the man laid, and the way he was injured, made it look as if he was mauled by some sort of animal.
'Holy shit...'
Pulling yourself back to reality, you realized the figure was now standing right in front of you.
He held his hand out for you to take, sharp, brown eyes flicking between you expectantly.
Finally having the chance to get a good look at him, you took in his appearance.
With his broad chest and strong jaw, you'd think he'd be on the cover of Sexy Bikers weekly, arms and legs thick with muscle under his leather jacket and blue jeans.
Your eyes met in an instant, an electric buzz shooting up your spine at his features.
From what you could see through the darkness, they were sharp, but strong and hard, handsome in their own rugged way.
His lips pulled taut in a line as he stared back, brows furrowing while his eyes flicked around you, almost like he was trying to gauge your reaction.
Slowly, you placed your hand in his allowing him to pull you up to your feet.
"Thank you," you exhaled, shoulders dropping as relief finally sank in your shoulders. "I don't know what I would've done if you didn't come when you did..."
His arms came back to his sides, tiredly, as he awkwardly cleared his throat.
As if he didn't expect you to actually talk to him...
"What're you doin' walkin' by yourself so late?" he asked, his voice a deep rumble. "You got a death wish?"
The sound ignited something in you, a sudden flood of warmth rushing to your stomach, your reply nearly dying in your throat.
"I just got off from work... I wasn't paying attention and turned the wrong corner," you explained, choppily, the embarrassment of your mistake setting in.
It was a stupid one.
Especially for someone who's mutation gave her the ability to see the future.
Or variations of it, at least.
"You got a way to get home?" he asked, resting a hand on his hips.
His arms flexed with the motion, his bicep straining against the jacket sleeve, your eyes drawn to it almost instantly.
You'd never seen a man as handsome as him before, and while you felt bad for gawking, you were more concerned by the flurry of feelings swirling in your chest.
"Cab," you blurted, snapping yourself out of it, "I can hail a cab."
He nodded, smoothly and, to your surprise, silently, stepping to the side and out of your way.
You were ready to head back toward the street, when you suddenly remembered something.
"My purse—" Jittery, the man nervously shoved it into your arms, averting his eyes from your thankful expression.
Your gorgeous, thankful expression.
God, he didn't understand what such a beautiful woman like you was doing in a place like this.
"I found it on the ground over there," he cleared his throat once again, shifting his weight on his feet, "I put your knife back in, too. You might wanna wash it—"
Without warning, you pulled him into a hug, nearly sending his heart into a frenzy.
He kept his hands up, quite confused and unsure of what to do, especially since your impossibly soft cheek was pressed against his chest.
"Thank you... really," you smiled, warmly, as you looked up at him.
God, he was handsome.
Though, you pushed that thought to the back of your mind.
"It was nothin'," he assured, awkwardly, as you backed out.
"I don't suppose I could learn your name, could I?" you asked, a small smile rising to your lips at his social graces.
It was adorable.
Someone so big and strong being so nervous.
Instantly, he tensed, completely taken aback by your bold comment.
Maybe he was imagining things, but he could've sworn your tone made it sound like you were flirting with—
"Logan," he blurted, stiffly.
You grinned, tucking a stray hair behind your ear, "(y/n)."
Slowly, you started toward the mouth of the alleyway, his eyes following you intently, "Well, Logan, I hope we meet again... Then I'll pay you back."
"Not necessary," he assured, shaking his head.
You paused your walk for a moment, turning to glance at him with a devilish glint in your eye.
"We meet again... I'll have something for you," you promised, crossing your fingers.
A shiver rolled down his spine at your words, and you continued on your merry way, exiting the alley and hailing a nearby cab.
Once he was sure you were gone, he let out a loud sigh, allowing his shoulders to sink and a tired hand to run through his hair.
You were something...
One conversation and he already knew you were going to be trouble, the smell of your perfume and the warmth of your smile already plaguing his mind.
He shook his head, taking a deep breath before turning to walk out the alley.
But just as he stepped forward, he felt something under his foot, lifting it to reveal a necklace.
You must've lost it in the melee...
Carefully, he picked it up off the ground, placing it in his pocket before walking out the backstreet.
The next time he saw you... he'd have something for you, too.
#james howlett#james howlett x reader#logan howlett#logan howlett x reader#mcu#mcu x reader#wolverine x reader#x men#x men x reader#wolverine
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
In honor of Women's History month, I just want to remind people that some of the most influential and popular manga in the anime community are written/illustrated by women. And I'm not just talking about groundbreaking shojo like Sailor Moon, Fruits Basket, Card Captor Sakura, or Black Butler (or things like Chihayafuru, Migi to Dali, Sakamoto Desu ga?, Nana, Natsume Yuujincho, Revolutionary Girl Utena, Violet Evergarden, A Silent Voice, and a million more). To be clear, those series are also amazing, and I'm not demeaning them in any way. They deserve just as much respect as everything else.
But right now I'm talking about shōnen series or series that are usually marketed towards men specifically or have appeared in shōnen magazines. I mean things like:
Beastars, made by Paru Itagaki (fun fact: she's the daughter of Keisuke Itagaki, the author of Baki! I guess it runs in the family 😆)
Gangsta, by Kohske
Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic by Shinobu Ohtaka (which I promise isn't what my screen name is a reference to, even though I love this show).
D.Gray Man by Katsura Hoshino
Dorohedoro by Q Hayashida
To Your Eternity by Yoshitoki Ōima
Mushishi, made by Yuki Urushibara (aka Soyogo Shima).
Noragami which is written by two women, collectively named Adachitoka, similarly to romance author duo Christina Lauren.
Blue Exorcist by Kazue Kato
Inuyasha (and Ranma 1/2 and Urasai Yatsura) by Rumiko Takahashi, which I know for a fact served as a gateway anime for a shit ton of people across generations (but especially for people my age).
I have to shout out Posuka Demizu, who illustrated The Promised Neverland, which is my favorite manga series. She may have given the characters weird looking facial proportions, but damn if she ain't one of the most detail oriented (and sneakiest) artists out there.
And finally, a little story you may know called Fullmetal Alchemist, written by Hiromu Arakawa (who also wrote Silver Spoon, the most recent manga version of The Heroic Legend of Arslan and lots of other stuff but I wanted to highlight those two specifically).
There's also been speculation that a small hidden gem called...what was it again?...Oh yeah, DEMON SLAYER is written by a woman. But Koyoharu Gotouge's gender hasn't been confirmed so it's still just a theory.
idk, I just love women.
#women's history month#anime#fullmetal alchemist brotherhood#fma#fmab#beastars#inuyasha#to your eternity#fumetsu no anata e#blue exorcist#noragami#mushishi#d.gray man#magi labyrinth of magic#dorohedoro#gangsta anime#the promised neverland#yakusoku no neverland
3K notes
·
View notes
Note
Slides in with a bucky request!
Can you do a possoves bucky? Like someone flirts with her and that leads to an argument that leads to to feelings coming out with marking dirty talk and rough sex? Pretty please
Always Watching // Bucky x Fem!Reader
Requested by: hey bestie, thanks for the request!
Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, angst, possessive behaviour, obsession, jealousy, threats of violence, enemies to lovers, pining, unwanted attention, flirting, sexual harassment, arguing, rough kissing, biting, marking, scratching, rough sex, dirty talk, praise kink, overstimulation, light dom/sub, hair pulling, oral (f receiving), size kink
Words: 6.3k
my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link
The word used to describe your relationship with Bucky Barnes was ‘strained’. Strained because you’d prefer it if it were at least adequate, and no one could fault you for the attempts made at becoming his friend and helping him with the transition from the Winter Soldier to a member of the Avengers. In truth, you’d tried more than most to help him, especially as he was still at risk of being compromised and shifting back to the assassin’s mindset. You prided yourself on your compassion and empathy, always providing physical and mental support to Bucky, asking how he was, helping him move into the Avengers tower and adjust to going on missions.
Except, somewhere along the way, it had become evident that from at least Bucky’s perspective, you were a person to keep at arm’s length. Your questions would be ignored, and your attempts to help in medical situations would be pushed away. The only responses you’d receive were belittling comments or fierce glares that would have you backing away from the man and shutting your mouth. Even when you kept to yourself, his eyes always seemed to follow you around the room, eyes burning with what you assumed to be hatred, like he was plotting all the ways to eradicate you.
For some unknown reason, Bucky Barnes seemed to hate you, and you had no idea what you’d done to offend him. The other Avengers and agents you called your friends had all implored that he didn’t hate you, but when you stated the experience you’d received from the long-haired man, there was no response but an awkward close-lipped smile and shrug of the shoulders.
This treatment had been going on for months now, avoidance, glare and comments under his breath, and you were slowly getting to the end of your rope. Even earlier in the day, he somehow managed to get under your skin with only one sentence.
“Are you really going out in that dress?”
At first, you’d been embarrassed and somewhat mortified by his comment, wishing to cover up the beautiful dress that Natasha had helped you to pick that emphasised your body shape and the perfect colour to compliment your skin tone. Soon, the embarrassment changed to anger, finding the comment rude and unnecessary. Who was he to say what it was that you wore? Especially tonight, everyone had returned from a difficult mission and decided it was about time the team let their hair down and went to a nightclub for drinks.
Other than the comment, the rest of your night was amazing. You were feeling a light buzz from the alcohol and danced so much that your calves were beginning to burn from standing in the heels borrowed from Natasha. Even as you became lost in the music and masses of people squeezed into the club, you were still hyper-aware of the man watching you from where he was leaning against the wall.
“Does he even blink?” you shouted, attempting to be over the pounding bass to the red-haired woman you were dancing with.
Natasha tipped her head back and laughed, glancing over her shoulder a second later to assess the man who seemed to be staring at you constantly. Bucky didn’t even have the gall to look away in embarrassment, having been caught staring and that only made Nat’s smile widen as she turned back to you with a twinkle now in her eyes.
“You know why he’s staring”, she says matter of factly, swaying her hips as she talks into your ear.
Your eyes roll so hard that you have a momentary headache. “He does not have a crush on me. Can you please stop saying that? The man clearly hates me! I feel like my skin is burning from his stare, like he wishes me to combust spontaneously.”
After the tight-lipped smiles from your friends, they would often tease that maybe he was being so mean and hateful because he had a crush on you. You’d laughed initially, and some small part of you was hopeful that this was the case, but the more he belittled, embarrassed and ignored you, the more evident that was not the case.
“Maybe he’s just admiring the dress that I know he loves”, Natasha shouts confidently, grabbing your hand and twirling you around in an attempt to show off your outfit.
Despite her ridiculous statement, you laughed, “Well, he has an interesting way of admiring it! I’m going to go and get another drink. Do you need one?”
Natasha shook her head and held up her beer bottle, which was still over half full. Giving her one last smile, you made your way through the sweaty, head bobbing with the music until you finally found a free area at the bar, which was busy enough that you knew it would be a while before being served.
Someone pressed against your arm as a new person also had similar ideas to you, leaning on the bar and trying to get the staff’s attention with a click of his fingers. You took a deep breath to try and refrain from rolling your eyes at the arrogance of the man next to you, who was leaning on his forearm on the bar side.
“What are you having?” he shouted confidently with a grin, and it took you a good minute to realise he was talking to you.
“Oh, no, it’s ok. I’m getting my own drink; I’m sure it won’t take long”, you politely decline, turning your body away from him for a moment, hoping to catch the eye of the bar staff so you didn’t have to stay there any more with the guy next to you.
“Nonsense, pretty girl like you shouldn’t be buying your own drink. Come on, let me buy you a drink. I’m Chad, by the way”, he responds whilst sticking his hand out for you to shake. You stare at the hand before shaking it with a limp wrist, wanting to show that you aren’t enthusiastic about the conversation.
“Nice to meet you, Chad. I appreciate the offer, but I’m really fine buying my drink”. You pull your hand out of his grasp and try to take a step away, but there are so many people at the bar that there’s nowhere to go. Chad only moved closer, ignoring your discomfort as he leaned his face towards yours.
“Don’t be like that, Baby, it’s just a drink. Your dress is beautiful, by the way, it really makes your…eyes pop” As he spoke, he was not looking at your eyes as you crossed your arms to cover your chest. “Are you here alone? Maybe we can grab a drink and go somewhere beautiful; I’d love to get to know you on a more personal level”, Chad asked, lifting his fingers to stroke the apples of your cheeks.
“She’s not alone, and get your fucking hands off of her”, came an aggressive voice from behind as a warm chest brushed against your back.
Bucky pushed against Chad’s shoulder, giving him enough space to stand between the two of you, so now you’re staring at his back as he protectively became a shield for you.
“Hey man, what the fuck’s your problem! Who do you think you are, touching me like that?!” Chad shouted loudly enough that others began to turn and stare at the scene.
You could feel the thickness of the atmosphere, and there was nothing more you wanted to do than de-escalate the situation, not wanting Bucky to get into any further trouble as he was already being watched like a hawk by Shield.
“Bucky, please stop; everyone's staring!” you tried to pull on his arm, but he stayed completely still, ignoring you as he stared daggers at Chad.
The man looked between you and Bucky before settling on you and pointing at Bucky, “Is this guy bothering you? Listen, asshole, she clearly doesn’t want to be with you; otherwise, she wouldn’t have been out here buying her own drink, now would she? Why don’t you get lost so the pretty girl and I can get back to getting to know each other?” Chad smirked cockily.
This only made Bucky tense further, his posture straightening as he took a threatening step forward, and Chad flinched. Bucky’s gloved hands clenched at his side as you quickly did a visual check to see if he had any weapons, but you couldn’t see any in the suit jacket and jeans; you were sure he probably had them hidden up his sleeve.
Bucky took another step forward, nostrils flaring as anger radiated off of him in waves of heat, and genuine fear pooled in your stomach with how the situation escalated as you tried to push him away from Chad.
“If you ever touch her again, I promise you, I will fucking ruin your life. No, you know what, scratch that. If you so much as look at what’s mine again, there’s nowhere on this planet that you can hide; I will find you and end anything you find precious, including your life. Do you understand me?” Bucky asked, his tone surprisingly calm for promising such life-ending threats.
“What's going on here?” another voice joined the conversation as Steve and Tony appeared at your side, pushing the growing crowds back to give everyone space. You would have been thankful for their arrival had you not been staring open-mouthed up at Bucky. Not only was he threatening to kill someone for you, but you didn’t miss the possessiveness in his words and actions, and the biggest question screaming in your mind right now was what he meant by saying ‘what’s his’. Surely he didn’t mean you? Everything was becoming far more complicated than you’d anticipated.
“Is he compromised?” Tony asked in a hushed tone to you as he wrapped a hand around your upper arm, prepared to pull you away from the scene if needed.
Bucky’s eyes snapped to the hand on your arm, the glare moving to Tony’s face as the billionaire changed his stance to one like he was preparing for a fight. Your heart nearly stopped, everything becoming too overwhelming and escalating to a level that no one would be coming down from if it wasn’t stopped soon.
“No! Tony, he’s not compromised; he’s fine. There was just a misunderstanding-”
“A misunderstanding? Is that really what you are calling this situation?” Bucky demands, staring down at you whilst moving out of reach of Steve’s outreached hand.
“Bucky-” you try to reason with him, but you notice that his eyes have gone in the direction Chad seemed to disappear from. He was moving before you could even stop him, following wherever the guy had escaped. Quickly looking up at the confused Tony and Steve, you tried to reassure them whilst beginning to follow after Bucky. “Everything is fine! I’m just going to make sure he’s ok”.
You mostly needed answers than anything, feeling completely and utterly sober now and not wishing to return to the dance floor. As well as making sure that Bucky wasn’t going through with any of his threats.
You were going from being within a stuffy nightclub full of alcohol and dancing people with not enough room to move and music so loud that your voice had to strain to be able to be heard by others. To now, you’re rushing out of the entrance, out into the open air that was considerably colder, added to the fact that the heavens had opened and the rain was pouring enough that it was hard to see more than a few feet in front of you.
Any sane person would have turned right back around and reentered the club just to have some cover, but your adrenaline was pumping, and after a few seconds outside, you were already drenched, so there was no point trying to find the jacket you’d left in the cloakroom.
You follow in the direction Bucky had stormed off, trying to weave through the people running through the rain and past the busy New York traffic. “Bucky!” You called out for him while wrapping your arms around your chest, trying to keep some of the warmth you’d found in the club, but the more you were out in the open, the more the rain wholly soaked your body, drawing the freezing temperatures into your bones.
You stare at his back as he continues to walk with a purpose; you aren’t even sure if he’s following Chad anymore or just needs some air. You try your hardest to keep up, even with the struggle of the slippy wet floor and your ridiculous choice of heels burning your calves enough that you contemplated risking the sanity of the bottom of your feet by taking them off.
“Please, just wait, Bucky!” you shout to the man in front, who, of course, doesn’t slow down. You were at your wit's end, cold and drenched from the rain, confused by Bucky’s reaction in the club, not just from Chad but also the look from Tony grabbing your arm. There was clearly something more going on, and him running away, potentially on the warpath, was only making your anxiety increase to the point of wanting to scream.
Distracted with your rolling emotions, you hadn’t noticed that you were no longer following anyone as the street in front of you only had the occasional couple walking past with umbrellas over their heads.
You’d somehow lost Bucky.
“Shit!” you curse to the sky, letting the rain pour down over your face, unsure of what to do. You could return to the club, but you were now much closer to the tower than you were to the club and at least back at the tower, you could use Jarvis to assist with trying to track and find Bucky.
Before you could follow through with your decision, a gloved hand wrapped around your upper arm, pulling you quickly into an alleyway that had some shelter above your head, protecting you from the rain. Just as your mouth opened to scream and combat training reflexes moved to punch whoever had grabbed you, the movements were halted as you became face-to-face with a very pissed-off Bucky Barnes.
All air rushed from your lungs as you were forcefully pushed up against a wall as Bucky leaned his metal arm beside your head, leaning over you. Even though his blue eyes were burning with more intensity than you’d ever seen before, you still sighed in relief that he hadn’t rushed off somewhere, but now you just had to deal with the confrontation you were hoping for.
“Go back to the party”, he demands in a voice so low that you almost coward from him. Still, instead, you held your ground, pushing off the wall, expecting him to move back in a show of confidence, but he remained hovering close enough that it only meant that there were a few inches between your faces.
In the shadows of the alleyway, he looked threatening, especially with his bulky silhouette, but for some reason, he looked somewhat like a fallen angel. The fierceness in his swirling ocean blue eyes that devoured you completely, the height and strength that was trained through every single inch of muscle throughout his body, even his shoulder-length hair left unbound and dripping from the rain, gave him a mysterious look. It was nearly enough to distract you from the events that had taken place. Nearly.
“What? No! I’m not going back to the party. What even happened back there?”, you demanded, trying to remain as confident as you’d felt when leaving the club and not letting the adrenaline altogether go from your system.
Bucky looks away, towards the end of the alleyway in thought before finally muttering, “It was nothing”.
You scoff, “It wasn’t nothing! You threatened to kill the guy in there, Bucky! And what was all that with Tony? I saw the look you gave him! Oh, and what did you mean by touching what was his?”
To your shock, Bucky smirked, but his gaze was so vibrant when he turned back to look at you that, on instinct, you took the step back again to press against the wall. “I told you not to wear that stupid dress,” he says under his breath, like he is telling you a well-kept secret but is forcing himself to say the words.
You frown, your chest restricting, making it difficult to breathe. “The dress? Why do you hate this dress so much, I can wear whatever the fuck I want, Bucky! Stop trying to change the subject! Everything you do is so confusing. For months, you've acted like me even breathing in the same room as you is an inconvenience and then you’re threatening some asshole guy at the bar and protecting me? What’s that about?”
“Because I knew I’d have to be fighting off dickheads like him all night! That’s why I have an issue with the dress. When men like him take one look at you and assume that they have any right to even talk to you, let alone any of the other fucked up shit he was hoping to get from you”.
His outburst shocked you to the core, leaving you stunned and fumbling to think of any words. “I…I don’t understand where this is all coming from. Wait, aside from Chad, no one is allowed to talk to me? Who do you think you are to decide something like this? Maybe I want a cute guy to buy me a drink!”
“You’re naive if you think guys will only want to buy you a drink and nothing more”.
Your face heats uncontrollably at his words, hating the condescension lacing his words. “Don’t talk to me like that! Maybe that’s just what I want anyway. Someone nice to buy me a drink and treat me with kindness that clearly you won’t give me! So how dare you try to dictate my life by saying what I wear means you’ll have to be my knight in shining armour! You don’t have to do anything for me, these past few months have clearly shown you don’t give a shit about me so why care so much what people do to me?”
“You don’t understand”, he seeths through gritted teeth.
You want to scream in frustration from the lack of answers, letting all the energy form in your arms and hands as you pushed on his chest, needing some space between both of your bodies, but he was built of stone as he didn’t move at all.
“Then explain!” you shout in frustration, the heat and adrenaline returning to your veins. “Because I’m losing my fucking mind right now! Why do you act like you hate me one minute and save me another whilst acting like you have any sort of say as to what I wear and who touches or looks at me?”
“Because he touched what’s mine!” Bucky bellows, his face dropping close to yours as a vein bulges on his temple. “Call it jealousy, call is possessive, I don’t fucking care. Do you know how hard it is to see you in the line of fire at work and then come out to places like this and watch every guy and woman in this place have their eyes all over your body, wishing that they could have you? And then watching that asshole Chad come and talk to you, giving you those compliments and then having the nerve to touch you? He was a dead man walking”.
Your mouth opens and closes, feeling like you are having an out-of-body experience. “But… but you hate me”, you say, sounding as defeated as you felt.
Bucky scoffs again with less anger this time, the tone of his voice calming slightly as he leans closer, crowding you in his warmth. “I don’t have you, sweetheart, but I’m so fucked up in here”, he points to his head, “I can’t risk being near you”.
“Bucky-”
“Just go back to the party. I’ll call you a cab; just don’t follow me.”.
A lump forms in your throat. There’s no way you’re leaving him to go back to the club, and just as you’re about to tell him that, he’s suddenly dipping his head and cheek against yours so that he can whisper into your ear. “Just know that even though I’m not there, I’ll know if someone is looking at you. Your body is for my eyes only, so if anyone approaches, they’re dead”.
The breath hitches in your throat as your fingers clench, and you remember that they’re still resting on Bucky’s chest as you grip his shirt tightly. The warmth against your face retreats as he attempts to move back, and it is out of instinct that you glance towards his lips. You’ve never experienced anyone becoming possessive over you before. It should have had you running in the opposite direction, but your feet remained planted in that same spot, leaning towards the protective force in front of you.
Bucky then surprises you as you watch his frowning lips shift into a knowing smirk, laughing under his breath which causes a pulse of attraction through your cunt. “Oh Doll, you’re going to need to stop looking at me like that; otherwise, you won’t be returning to that party”.
A surge of confidence rocks through your core as your gaze burns into his intricate, beautiful eyes, “What if I don’t want to go back to the party?”.
You try not to jump away from the gloved hand, now cupping your jaw, tilting your face up towards the covering, shading you both from the continuing thrashing rain. The warmth of his breath skips over your exposed throat as he runs his nose along your skin, causing a shiver to rush down your spine. “You don’t mean that?” his tone had deepened and sounded increasingly strained, as if he was somehow holding himself back.
You weren’t entirely sure what was happening and how everything had changed to such a degree. All you were 100% certain about was that there was no way you would be going back to any party without Bucky.
“I mean it more than you could ever know”, you say with a rush of breath, finding it difficult to hold back the restraint to continue looking up entirely at his mercy simply.
Bucky contemplates your words as his nose drifts lower, and your heartbeat thumps hard in your chest. You are sure that you’ve felt the delicate kiss of his lips against the sensitive skin beneath your ear. “I think you like it when I show you who you belong to”, Bucky states with arrogance and sultry need that equally has your knees weakening.
The pure desire pooling in your underwear was becoming impossible to ignore, like a flame had been lit within your body and was slowly devouring your rational thoughts. A weak moan escapes your lips as your eyes drift close.
“Bucky…” you trail off, beginning to tremble, not from the low temperatures or being soaked through from the rain, but because your arousal had hit you so deeply that he consumed all thoughts.
“Yes?” Bucky asks as he laughs throatily at how you were so easy to succumb to his advances.
“Just fucking kiss me already!”
The pleasure and pain that enveloped your body was something that you’d crave and dream about for months to come. Pain because his lips pushing into yours with such force that your body was pushed back against the brick wall, but the overwhelming pleasure from finally feeling his mouth on yours, the hand gripping your jaw moving to the back of your head to cradle it with gentleness that you were surprised he as even capable of. The urgency didn’t end there, even as you finally received what you both had truly wanted for all of this time. You needed more of him, all of him, every single inch of his body you wanted to feel without the barrier of his clothes.
Bucky’s nose pushed into your cheek as he tilted his head to deepen the kiss, both of your mouths opening to allow your tongues to dance and caress one another. You moaned, tasting the mint on his tongue and something that was so uniquely him your mind momentarily lost any coherent thought.
His massive body was pressed against yours so that you were consumed by him completely. Which also meant that you could feel the hardness of his arousal rutting into your stomach as he gently rolled his hips to try and relieve some pent-up frustration.
You were ready to give him everything, right there, in a random alleyway in rainy New York, where anyone could stumble upon the two of you. Thankfully, Bucky still could hold onto some restraint as he put some distance between you.
“As much as I’d love to fuck you in front of everyone, I have the sneaky suspicion that Fury would not be pleased if a member of the Avengers were caught having a quickie out in public”.
In any other situation, you probably would have laughed at the absurdity and realisation as to just how far gone you’d become to actually be ready to lift your dress and let him fuck you. However, you were so caught up in the fact that this was happening and hearing the beautiful man in front of you say that he wanted to fuck you in a public setting only added to the deep desire from his possessive tendency to increase.
Bucky pressed a chastising kiss to your temple as he began to shrug his jacket from his shoulders to then wrap it around yours, and you could have moaned at the warmth and mouthwatering scent of his cologne surrounding you. The man you thought hated you didn’t give you any time to lose your senses as he grabbed your hand and tugged you out of the alleyway and back into the startling freezing rain.
As the Avengers tower was only a couple blocks away, it was easier for the two of you to run in the rain, with his arm wrapped around your shoulders, using his big build to shield you somehow from the wetness, but you were already soaked.
Finally, once in the safety of the private elevator that was only used for residents of the tower, you both were once more consumed with each other. His jacket was pushed to the floor so he could run his gloved hands over your shoulders and back to cradle your face.
Your back was against the elevator wall as he crowded around you, trying to taste every possible area of your mouth. Your leg lifted, hooking around his hips and causing your dress to hitch further up your thigh until it rested around your waist, pulling him closer.
In this position, he was able to thrust his tented jeans against your panties, the rough material catching your clit and causing an obscene moan to echo around the small space. His lips left yours but only so that he could kiss down the side of your neck, causing more mewls and pathetic squeaks to leave your parted mouth.
“I want the whole world to know you’re mine”, he declares as his teeth scrap against the area where your shoulder and neck meet. The same part of you that was throbbing for his possessive tendencies needed him to do whatever he was alluding to. To persuade him to continue, you ran your fingers up his firm chest, scratching up his throat and to the nape of his neck so that you were able to grab a handful of his hair and tug him even closer.
However, arriving at the Avengers’ living quarters interrupted the two of you. Without missing a beat, Bucky's hands lowered to your thighs, picking you up so that your legs were now wrapped around his waist as he supported your weight with his hands on your arse.
Your fingers remained in his hair, pulling his face back to your neck as he began to suck on different areas, marking your skin with darkening, wet patches. The tiny reasoning voice at the back of your mind was warning you that you’d regret those marks tomorrow, but with the want and need to have his lips and teeth all over your body, you couldn’t care less if he was marking you.
Everything about his touch was seering in heat, even though those leather gloves still covered his hands. It was as if you could feel the temperature of his burning skin through the material, and it only made you more desperate to claw at his clothes. Equally, Bucky needed to feel more of your soft skin and learn every inch of your body.
You were only half aware that you’d entered his bedroom because the low lighting had naturally turned on by the building's sensors. It was minimalistic, and for a second, your focus zoned into the sheets and pillow led out on the floor and not on the bed, which was just a bare mattress that he all but dropped you into the centre of.
His lips were on yours again, and you were thoroughly distracted from the makeshift bed on the floor. The sharp sting of his teeth grazing your bottom lift caused you to mewl and pull on his hair, exposing his thick neck that gave you the opening to begin your exploration, licking and teasing until he was shivering and sitting back on his knees.
You admired him momentarily as he seemed to do the same for you. His handsome face was flushed with arousal, the pupils in his eyes so vast that it was almost as if the clear blue didn’t exist anymore. His chest was heaving with steading breaths as he began to pull on each of the fingers of his gloves.
“How expensive is the dress?” he asked, eyeing the cleavage that had been his downfall all night.
“It’s Natasha’s”, you answered breathlessly.
“I’ll buy her a new one”, Bucky mumbles, gripping the edges of the dress and tearing the material into two. You gave a startled scream as you were suddenly left in your underwear, but the shock at being exposed was swiftly distracted by him ripping his shirt directly down the centre so all the buttons popped off, and the material shrugged off his broad shoulders.
Even though this wasn’t the first time you’d seen him without a shirt on, your breath caught in your breath at his beautifully sculptured chest and abs, mouth already watering with the need to lick every inch of him.
“Be a good girl for me, Doll and spread your legs”, he demands with surprising gentleness, still sitting back on his knees and stroking a soft caress against your outer thighs.
A pathetic whimper bursts from your chest at the praise, pussy clenching with need that you didn’t waste a second before opening your legs. Even though you still had your panties on, Bucky's gaze became hungry, as if he was a man on the brink of starving to death as he licked his lip and began to lower his body.
“You don’t understand how long I’ve wanted to do this”, he admits, gripping the edge of your underwear and beginning to drag the material down your legs.
You smile to yourself, straightening yourself in the centre of the bed and getting comfortable as your legs naturally lay across his shoulders as he led stomach first on the bed.
“Jealousy seems to be a great motivator for you”, you tease, but all the smug arrogance is drowned out by the pornographic scream from feeling his tongue taking a long, exaggerated lick from your perineum to your clit. You weren’t sure who was louder between the two of you with the moans as Bucky finally was able to taste the girl he’d been wanting for months and you for having someone actually wanting to give you some form of pleasure.
Every time you made a noise of pure joy or increased in volume, Bucky repeated the action, learning what you loved. Your thighs were nearly suffocating him with how hard they were squeezing around his face, and you knew that he would happily die right there between your legs if that’s what you truly wanted. Then there was the hair you were clenching, probably having ripped out two handfuls as you pulled on his long hair, hoping to have him as close as possible between your legs.
“Fuck Bucky! Who taught you how to do that- AH! I’m so close!” your back was arched, eyes clenched tightly closed as the pleasure was tightening within your core. His tongue lapped with quick flicks, firming the tip to add more pleasure as he pushed it into your dripping pussy. His moans added extra stimulation as you happily came all over his face, trembling and twitching cunt around his lips and tongue.
Just as Bucky was about to add two fingers into your still pulsing hole, you shouldn’t take the wait anymore and begged, “Please just fuck me already, Barnes!”
The Avengers grinned down at you as he began to crawl up your body, nipping each of your breasts with his teeth through your bra as he moved. Your cheeks warmed, seeing the shine over his stubble from your juices that he’d been happily drinking. Your thoughts didn’t remain on this fact for long though as he was kissing you feverishly once more, meaning you could now taste yourself on his lips.
With his mouth thoroughly distracting, you’d not noticed that he’d been unbuckling his belt and shoving his jeans and boxers down his toned thighs. Without waiting until they were entirely removed from his body, he swiped his cock between your folds, coating his length in your liquids.
Your mouth gaped open as the tip of his cock nudged into your entrance, stretching it to a level that you’d not been used to. “Shh, it’s ok, Doll, you can take me”, he promised, with one hand holding your hip steadily and the other against your cheek so he could hold your face still.
He was so deep, impossibly deep. You could feel him everywhere, widening your cunt until you were fluttering around his cock, and he hadn’t even begun fucking you properly yet.
“Nearly there, try and relax for me”, Bucky praises into your ear as your eyes widen, realising that it wasn’t even the entire length of him inside of you yet. Only as he was pushing into your cervix did your head fall back, and you sighed out. “That’s it, you’re taking me so well. Put your arms around my back; you’re going to need to hold onto something”, he boasts as you try and take a deep breath, your fingers reaching around his back, nails digging into the skin to give yourself something to hold onto.
Spreading his knees further apart on the bed, Bucky readjusts his position to gain more momentum. The man fucked good. More than good. You were pretty much pleading incoherently to whatever gods were above or below. There wasn’t anything you were begging for, just whatever it was that Bucky seemed to be doing, that it never stopped.
Each stroke caressed that sweet spot within, and with the way his hips rolled, he was able to nudge your clit with his body. Added to the mouth on your neck, biting and licking the sore spots to ease the ache, his hands pinning you down to the bed only added to the raw possessiveness dictating Bucky’s movements.
Harder and faster, his hips moved. The thick cock pounding into your cunt until you were seeing stars and cumming again, squeezing him so hard he had to still his hips to stop his own orgasm from spiralling.
But then, he's pulling out and turning you onto your front, spreading your legs once more and demanding, “Arch your back for me, Sweetheart”. Doing as he instructed, your still-covered breasts pressed into the mattress as your hips angled up. With one hand holding onto your shoulder and the other on your hip, he began to fuck you with just as much enthusiasm.
In this position, he somehow felt even more deeper, and all you could do was cry out and moan with how good he felt.
“Tell me you’re mine, I need to hear you say it”, Bucky grunts as you came for the third time, becoming overstimulated and disorientated with how good you felt.
Your cunt was still squeezing with the effects of the orgasm as you repeatedly told him, “I’m yours, only yours, Bucky”.
Bucky’s head tilted back so that he could release an almighty grunt, the hands on your body tightening enough that the skin became tender, but you didn’t care at all, not with how good you were feeling. You could feel his cock throbbing and the wetness that followed, dripping from your hole and onto the mattress beneath.
It was a long few minutes before he eased out and collapsed onto the mattress beside you, the two of you breathing heavily as his metal fingers stroked slowly down your spine and his lips followed.
“You should have told me earlier”, you whisper over your shoulder to him.
“Hmm?” he asks, moving up to your shoulder, where he carefully kissed the skin that was tender from his grip moments before.
“You should have told me how you felt”, you explain, thinking about how much time was wasted.
“Maybe. But then, I wouldn’t have had so much fun threatening everybody for looking at you”, he answers with a grin, kissing your cheek once before climbing off the bed and returning with the sheets from the floor.
#bucky barnes#bucky x reader#bucky barnes smut#marvel smut#bucky barnes one shot#jealous bucky#bucky barnes x reader#marvel one shot#bucky#mine*
4K notes
·
View notes
Text
Sunshine [11] - Blast
AN: My loves, thank you so so much for your wonderful support and lovely comments and HCs! ❤️ You’re amazing! ❤️
I hope you like this as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think, thank you! 🥰
Pairing: Logan Howlett x Female!Reader
Summary: Every break up has an aftermath.
Word Count: 4244
CW: Explicit language, angst, adult themes MDNI
Series Masterlist
The month after your brutal breakup hadn’t been so easy.
When Theo was around, you made sure he didn’t notice anything. His happiness was the most important thing for you, it had been that way ever since he was born, so you weren’t going to ruin it. Every weekend, you pretended you were incredibly happy and that nothing was wrong at all, despite the heartbreak you were going through.
Your friends were the only people who knew just how sad you were, and they had formed a very united front to change that.
“We have found the one.”
You pulled your brows together as you filled Jamie’s cup while Nik gave you a proud smile and Julie sat up straighter, repressing a squeal.
“You two are dating, so you’ve already found ‘the one’” you used air quotes, making Nik roll his eyes.
“Not for us!”
“And Julie would’ve told me if she found the one.”
“I’d also be shouting it from the rooftops, but this isn’t about me.”
You threw your head back. “I’m not gonna go on a blind date.”
“Hear me out,” Jamie said, fishing his phone out of his pocket. “This guy has been approved in the group chat.”
“What group chat?”
“Our group chat.”
Your jaw dropped. “You guys have a group chat without me?”
“Yes because it’s being used purely to find you your Mr. Right.”
“And we know it’s been only a month since you and Logan broke up but fuck Logan,” Julie added. “I’ve been carrying a magnet in my purse ever since you told me about your break up, just in case I run into him.”
Nik turned to look at her better. “You’re joking.”
Julie grabbed her purse and took out a small horseshoe magnet, making your eyes widen.
“I don’t play about my threats,” she told Nik. “That motherfucker broke my best friend’s heart, so I’ll point this magnet at his—”
“Where did you even get a magnet like that?” you cut her off and she shrugged.
“I googled it.”
“I’ve only seen these in cartoons,” Nik mused, reaching out to get the magnet from Julie before Jamie cleared his throat.
“Our point is,” he said. “You’re better off without Logan, and I think you’d really like this guy.”
You heaved a sigh, resting your elbows on the counter.
“Guys I really appreciate all the effort,” you said and stole a look at Julie. “And the magnet but—seriously, you know how much I hate blind dates.”
“Well does it count as a blind date if we show you his picture?” Nik asked, getting the phone from Jamie before turning the screen so that you could see the picture.
Even you had to admit, he looked cute. It was as if Jamie had decided to find you someone the complete opposite of Logan; he seemed younger than him -around Jamie’s age if you weren’t mistaken-, he had dirty blonde hair, and just from the picture alone, you could tell he was the type of person who liked to smile, a lot. Judging by his white coat, he worked in the same hospital Jamie worked in, and you stole a look at him.
“Your coworker?”
“He works in ER,” Jamie said. “Saved a kid’s life the other day.”
“And I’ve met him,” Nik said. “He’s like a cute puppy but also a badass.”
“And he is very handsome, you like handsome,” Julie sang tauntingly and you ran a hand over your face.
“I really don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“Why not?”
“I’m not over Logan yet.”
“The best way to get over someone is good sex,” Julie pointed out. “We’re not telling you to move in with the guy. We’re just telling you to just…go on a date and see where things go.”
“And it could help,” Nik said softly. “You know, distracting yourself from your ex.”
You bit inside your cheek, then clicked your tongue.
“Ugh, fine,” you muttered, making them grin. “But if I don’t like him, I’ll leave and you guys will delete that group chat. Alright?”
“Deal.”
*
One of the things you hated about blind dates was that you always got incredibly nervous right before. The urge to text them and stay in instead would always get the best of you—now to think of it, the only person you didn’t get that urge with was Logan.
Well.
Logan was out of the picture, and you had to deal with that.
But if anything, at least Jamie knew this guy and was friends with him, so the odds of him being an ass was pretty low.
You pulled over in front of the restaurant before checking your phone to see whether it was in fact the right place, then slipped a little in the seat. This was by no means your first rodeo but…
You really wanted to just go home and get under covers and listen to Julie’s break up playlist.
“Worst case scenario, you’ll just have one drink and go back home,” you muttered to yourself. “Come on soldier.”
You checked your makeup in the rear mirror, then got out of the car and locked it before you smoothed out your dress and made your way to the restaurant. The hostess greeted you and after you gave her your name, you followed her into the restaurant.
Oh, he was already there.
If Logan wasn’t at the back of your mind, you were sure that you would’ve been excited. He really was a good looking guy, the smile that appeared on his face upon seeing you looked very genuine, and the fact that he jumped on his feet to greet you was a great sign.
However—
Okay no, you were not going to think about Logan tonight, not at all.
“Hi!” he said and you smiled back.
“Hi,” you said and you extended your hand but he went for a hug before he paused and made a move to shake your hand but this time you were the one who went for a hug, so you gave him a curt hug before pulling back.
“Jesus—sorry, that was awkward,” he said and you tried to control your giggle at the look of slight regret on his face.
“No worries,” you assured him and he gave you a tentative smile.
“I’m Hayes.”
You introduced yourself as well before the waiter pulled your chair for you and you thanked him, then sat down. Hayes followed you suit, then motioned at his wine glass and the appetizers.
“I hope you don’t mind.”
“No no, not at all,” you said and looked up at the waiter who put the menu in front of you. “Can I get the same as well? Thank you.”
Waiter nodded and walked away from your table, and you turned to Hayes.
“Uh, hi again.”
“Hey,” he said with a chuckle. “So uh…blind but not so blind date?”
“Sounds about right,” you said. “I mean I saw your picture.”
“So have I.”
“Jamie showed it to you?”
“Technically no.”
You blinked a couple of times. “How’s that?”
“Jamie has a picture of you and your whole friend group on his desk,” he admitted as the waiter brought your wine and you thanked him. “I saw your pic there and I asked about you in a way that was very subtle in my opinion but Jamie disagrees.”
You raised your brows, smiling slightly. “You’re not serious.”
“It was kind of like Jamie was an app and I was fervently trying to swipe.”
A small laugh escaped from your lips and you covered your mouth. “Oh my God…”
“Am I giving off serial killer vibes?” he asked to no one in particular. “Because I swear I save people for a living, that’s not—it’s just that you are very pretty and I’m very rusty when it comes to all this.”
You lowered your hands to give him a bright smile.
“You’re very sweet,” you said. “I didn’t think you were rusty.”
“No?” he asked and let out a breath. “Thank God.”
“It’s been a while?” you asked him after a moment of hesitation and he hummed.
“Listen, rusty or not I know talking about previous relationships is a red flag.”
“I don’t mind,” you said. “Let me guess, you had a long relationship and…?”
“And walked in on her and my best friend.”
“Ouch.”
“Former best friend.”
“Still ouch,” you said with a grimace. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, I mean—I changed cities but it has to be for a good cause. At least that’s what I’m choosing to believe.”
“Sounds like a good plan.”
“How about you? I find it hard to believe you go on blind dates if I’m honest.”
“Oh I’ve gone on blind dates,” you assured him. “And uh—my friends have made it their life mission to matchmake me, they apparently have a group chat where they approve people.”
Hayes pulled his brows together. “Holy shit, I’ve been approved in the group chat?”
“Yes you have,” you said. “Congratulations.”
“I feel very validated,” he mused, making you giggle. “No seriously, knowing Jamie, this is the same as passing a very difficult exam with a jury.”
“Yeah he’s very protective, especially after—” you stopped yourself and Hayes shot you a lighthearted look.
“Hey, I talked about my ex.”
“Well, I got dumped,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders. “And Jamie never approved of him, so now he’s like extra careful.”
Hayes hummed and lifted his wine glass slightly.
“Well, on behalf of all men in this city, we’re all very glad that your ex is an idiot.”
You scoffed a laugh and lifted your glass as well.
“Yeah well,” you trailed off, trying your hardest to not let your thoughts drift to Logan. “So you’re an E.R. doctor?”
“I am,” he said. “And you?”
“Oh I…I’m just a waitress,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders, that feeling of inadequacy hitting you out of nowhere once again. “Nothing too exciting.”
“Do you like where you work?”
“Yeah, I’m friends with everyone there except my boss,” you said. “It’s pretty nice. And you? I heard you saved a kid’s life the other day.”
A bright smile appeared on his face. “Yeah, that’s why I like working in the E.R. I can actually make a difference in just seconds, you know? It makes me feel alive, like I’m doing something right with my life.”
You nodded your head. “I can imagine. Sounds wonderful, really.”
He sipped his wine.
“So tell me more about you,” he said. “Jamie says you have a son?”
“Yeah!” you said, your eyes lighting up at the mention of Theo. “Yeah I do. Theo. He’s the cutest kid in the world, and I’m very objective about it.”
That made him laugh. “At first I thought Jamie was a father, with all the drawings in his office…”
“Oh he still keeps those?”
“With all due respect, it’s like a shrine in his office.”
“You should see his and Nik’s fridge, they have like one picture there and the rest is Theo’s artwork.”
“Really?”
“He had his artist phase, now he’s—” you started but were cut off when your phone started buzzing. You gave him an apologetic look.
“Excuse me,” you said as you grabbed it out of your purse, but as soon as you saw the name flashing on the screen, your heart dropped.
Logan.
A part of you -the petulant part of you- wanted to reject the call but you took a deep breath, then licked your lips and then answered.
“Hello?”
There was a second of hesitation on the other line before he cleared his throat.
“Theo is fine,” he said. “But he needs you here.”
Your head shot up. “What? What happened?”
“There was a small accident—”
“What accident?” you asked, your heart leaping to your throat as fear crashed down on you. “What—is he—”
“Like I said, he’s completely fine, I promise,” he said, his deep voice soothing your fear as always. “He had a nightmare, his powers took over and he blew up the wall in his room accidentally but he’s fine and so is everyone else. He locked himself in the basement though, and refuses to come out.”
You could feel your throat tightening but you took a shaky breath, then nodded as if he could see you.
“I’m on my way,” you said and hung up before turning to Hayes.
“I’m so sorry,” you said, pushing your phone into your purse. “Theo is…he’s in a boarding school in the city but he—he had a nightmare and he locked himself in the basement.”
“Oh I’m sorry,” Hayes said, frowning. “Is he okay?”
“Yeah,” you said despite the anxiety churning your stomach, then stood up. “But I need to go, he must be terrified.”
“Of course,” Hayes stood up with you. “Would you like me to drive you there?”
“No no, I can drive,” you said. “I really appreciate it though, thank you.”
“Oh it’s nothing, really,” he said. “I hope he’s feels better.”
“Sorry, again.”
“You have nothing to apologize for,” he said. “Is it okay if I get your number from Jamie?”
“Sure!” you said. “I’ll—I’ll see you around I guess?”
“Have a nice night,” he said and you gave him a curt smile, then made your way out of the restaurant, your heart beating in your ears.
*
If it were any other time, you would’ve been nervous to see Logan after a month, for the first time after your break up but you were so worried about Theo that it didn’t even cross your mind that Logan would be the one to greet you.
Which, of course he was the one to greet you by the door. He probably took your scent the moment you drove through the gates.
He looked almost frozen the moment you stepped out of your car but he recovered very fast.
“Hey—”
“Where is he?” you asked without so much as glance in his direction as you walked past him into the mansion and Logan easily caught up with you.
“In the basement,” he said. “Follow me.”
When you two got to the basement, Storm and Jean were already there.
“Hey, he’s totally fine,” Jean assured you the moment she saw you and Storm nodded her head.
“We could’ve opened the door but we didn’t want to scare him any more than he already is,” she assured you. “He only said he wants you, and now he’s not talking to us.”
“But he’s not hurt in any way,” Logan added. “I don’t smell any blood or pain, and Jean already checked his mind.”
You raised your brows, then took a deep breath.
“Thanks,” you said and smiled at Storm and Jean. “Really, thank you so much. I can take it from here.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah,” you said and swallowed thickly. “It’s not the first time this happens.”
Storm and Jean exchanged glances before Storm turned to you.
“I’ll just go and check the other students then.”
“And I’ll fill Charles in,” Jean said, squeezing your arm in a reassuring manner before they both walked away and you ran a hand over your face, then walked to the door of the basement and knocked softly.
“Bean?”
The only answer you got was a sniffle, breaking your heart to smithereens. You could feel your own eyes burning but you frowned, forcing yourself to focus.
“Bean, are you there?”
“…Yes,” his small voice reached you and you took a deep breath.
“You think you can open the door?”
“I had a bad dream.”
“I know,” you said, nodding fervently. “Everyone has bad dreams, it’s completely normal. And what do we do when we have bad dreams?”
“We have hot chocolate because that makes them go away.”
“Exactly,” you said. “So can you open the door please?”
“People will be angry at me.”
“What? No!” you said. “No one will be angry at you, I promise.”
“Mommy, it was an accident,” he said, a hiccup escaping him and you rested your forehead against the door, squeezing your eyes before swallowing the lump in your throat.
“I know,” you said. “And so does everyone. No one is angry at you—Logan, is anyone angry at Theo?”
Logan came closer to the door so that Theo could hear him better.
“Not at all,” he said. “If anything I’m a little jealous. Blasting walls is so badass, I’d love to be able to do that.”
“You hear that, bean?”
“Really?” Theo’s hopeful voice reached you and Logan smiled slightly.
“Sure bub. And hey, turns out we’ll have to decide on your superhero costume sooner than you think.”
“There you go,” you said. “Superhero costume sounds fun—”
A meow cut you off, making you tilt your head.
“Bean, is there a cat in there with you?”
“…No.”
Another meow reached you and you raised your brows.
“Theo.”
“I found him here and we’re friends now.”
“Okay,” you muttered more to yourself. “Theo—”
“His name is Sir Bartholomeow,” Theo added as if it was imperative that you knew that information and you heaved a sigh.
“Very creative bean, but can you please open the door? So that we can drink hot cocoa and I can meet your friend?”
There was a momentary hesitation and another sniffle before you heard the lock turning and you took a step back so that you could see him better. Theo was still in his pajamas, his glasses slightly crooked over his face as if he had put them on in a hurry, his wide teary eyes looking up at you. In his arms, he was holding probably the grumpiest looking cat you had ever seen in your entire life so tight that it was a wonder why the cat wasn’t trying to escape. A breath of relief left you and you crouched down to get to his level.
“Hi bean,” you said gently. “How about we give your friend to Logan so that they can be friends and I can make sure you’re okay?”
Logan stepped closer. “Yeah bub, I can take the cat—”
“Sir Bartholomeow,” you and Theo said at the same time and Logan cleared his throat.
“Yeah, him.”
Theo sniffled again before tentatively handing Sir Bartholomeow to Logan, and you checked whether he was hurt anywhere before pulling him into a bone crushing hug. Theo was still shaking like a leaf and he mumbled ‘mommy’ before burying his face to your chest while you stood up with him in your arms.
“I’m here,” you said softly, still holding him tight. “I’m here, it’s fine. I swear everything is gonna be fine.”
*
Theo never liked being away from you and that turned into a whole different level whenever he had a nightmare. You would be lying if you said you weren’t relieved to have him in your sight so after he drank his hot chocolate, you had carried him to bed and stayed with him until he fell asleep, humming the lullaby he used to love when he was a baby.
There it was again.
Times like these, you always remembered just how utterly alone and clueless you were in this whole thing.
You could feel the tears pricking your eyes as you looked down at him, then leaned in to kiss his head and pulled the covers over him, and walked out of the room as quiet as a mouse.
The mansion was mostly quiet, and even though you could still hear the voices coming from the kitchen, you desperately needed to be alone in case you burst into tears, so you walked through the hallway to step outside, the cold wind hitting your face. Heaving a sigh, you made your way to the stairs to sit down, and wiped at your eyes furiously before wrapping your arms around your knees, fixing your gaze on the stars glimmering in the sky.
You heard the front door open before the familiar footsteps came closer and you felt him drop his jacket over your shoulders before he sat down as well.
“Hi Logan,” you rasped out, sniffling and he offered you a hesitant smile.
“Hey,” he said, putting the bottle of whiskey between you two before he made a face. “Shit, I forgot to bring glasses.”
You scoffed a laugh. “We’ve done worse things than drinking from the same bottle.”
“Right,” he said after a beat and you grabbed the bottle to take a swig, grimacing at the burn before putting it down again.
“How’s your arm?” he asked and you took a shaky breath, then shrugged your shoulders.
“Healed,” you said and turned to look at him better. “I don’t even think about it anymore.”
He was too smart to miss the double meaning of your remark and his lips twitched for a moment.
“I’d bet,” he muttered. “Fun date then?”
You pulled your brows together in confusion and he nodded at you.
“I haven’t seen you in that dress before and you smell like someone else.”
You smelt like—
Oh. Hayes had hugged you.
“I don’t have the capacity to get into that bullshit right now,” you stated and Logan swallowed thickly, then nodded again.
“Right,” he said. “Of course.”
For a minute, the only thing you could hear were the crickets and the sound of the faint wind in the air before Logan take a deep breath.
“He’s fine, princess.”
You bit at your nail, blinking back the tears before you shook your head.
“No he’s not,” you said. “You and I both know that he’s not fine. Not really.”
“He’s too powerful,” Logan said. “Accidents like these will happen, you can’t really avoid them. What matters is that he hasn’t hurt himself or anyone else.”
You took another sip of the whiskey.
“Having you here helped a lot too,” he said. “He calms down when he sees you, that’ll be good for him.”
You clicked your tongue.
“Yeah, for now,” you muttered and Logan frowned.
“For now?”
“Yeah,” you said. “Until he grows up and hates me for everything I’m doing wrong as we speak.”
“That’s not true.”
“No no it is, I’m fucking up big time,” you said with a dry laugh. “Jesus, my mom said I had no idea what I was doing and I was too busy arguing with her that I didn’t even see it but it’s true. I have no clue.”
“That doesn’t mean you’re doing something wrong.”
“I’ve been doing everything wrong,” you told him, blinking back the tears. “He’s too little to see it now, but sooner or later he’ll see that everything that happened to him is my fault, even the fact that his powers showed up—”
You had to stop talking when your voice cracked and you tried to swallow the lump in your throat, sniffling again. He reached out for a second as if he wanted to wipe at the tears falling down your cheeks but then paused, pulling his hand back, his jaw clenching like he was in pain. You wiped at your eyes furiously, letting out a shaky breath.
“I’m terrible at this,” you said, nodding to yourself while Logan kept his burning gaze on you.
“I promise you, you’re not,” he said. “Theo adores you, and I think you’re the best parent I’ve ever seen in my life which in case it has escaped your notice, that’s a lot of years.”
You raised your brows, wiping at your nose before you cleared your throat and took off the jacket to place it into his lap, then stood up with Logan following you suit.
“I can drive you home,” he said and you threw your shoulders back, trying to pull yourself together.
“I had like three sips of whiskey, I can drive.”
“I can still drive you, it’s been a long night.”
“I’m fine.”
“No I want to,” he insisted and you tilted your head, giving him a questioning look. His eyes met yours before he took a deep breath.
“I just…” he trailed off. “I want to—I want to make myself useful.”
You frowned, staring at him. “Why?”
“No reason,” he said. “Don’t get me wrong, I don’t ask for anything, just…like I said. I want to make myself useful. I need to make myself useful.”
Your stomach did a flip as a painful smile curled your lips.
Oh.
This. You were familiar with this.
You had been through the same. You were in fact going through the same right now, frantically looking for something to ease the pain. Your solution was to follow your friends’ advice and try to date around, ignoring the way it just felt wrong when you were still in love with him, and Logan—
Logan was dealing with it in such a Logan way that it was almost ironic how you didn’t see it coming.
“It’s not going to help,” you said, your voice a mere whisper and he gulped, his jaw clenching.
“It could,” he managed to say through his teeth and you sniffled, shaking your head.
“It won’t,” you rasped out. “I’m sorry, it won’t.”
The agony that flashed over his handsome features twisted at your heart but you managed to smile at him.
“Good night Logan,” you murmured and walked away from him, painfully aware of his eyes following you.
12- Wildfire
#logan howlett#logan howlett x reader#deadpool#deadpool and wolverine#deadpool 3#wolverine#wolverine x reader#logan wolverine#logan x reader#logan howlett x you#wolverine x you#james howlett#logan howlett imagine#logan x you#james logan howlett#logan xmen#wolverine logan
677 notes
·
View notes
Text
new beginnings
Pairing: theodore nott x reader
Summary: after theo very unexpectantly breaks up with you, you try your best to pick yourself back up and move on. theo, on the other hand, seems to be having a harder time of that.
Word Count: 2.2k+
Masterlist
part two :)
✰ ✰ ✰
“(Y/N), you’ve got to get out of bed at some point.” Hermione said. She was sitting on the side of your bed while you laid fully wrapped under the covers. Hermione gently tugged the blanket down from your chin, but you whined a little in protest.
“‘Mione, I seriously can’t do this yet.”
Theo, your boyfriend of over a year had broken up with you only a few short days ago. You’d been in bed ever since, heartbroken over what could have been.
“(Y/N), I know you’re upset, but you have to get up. I can’t let you live the rest of your life in bed! Don’t you know how badly your bum would hurt from laying all of your life?” Hermione joked.
A small smile grew on your lips. “Yeah, that would be pretty tragic. I have too nice of a butt to let that happen.”
Hermione laughed. “There she is! I’ve missed your little jokes. Ron and Harry have become quite boring without you around. I think they’re worried about you.”
You groaned. “Nooo. I hate when people worry about me. It’s just so awkward when I have to be like ‘I’m fine’, ‘no really, I’m fine’.”
Hermione shrugged. “Well, are you?”
You sighed, pulling the covers down from your chin. You looked up at her, a forlorn look on your face. “Definitely not, but I suppose you’re right. I don’t want to be stuck in here for the rest of my life. I just, I just don’t think I can handle seeing him right now.”
Hermione looked at you sadly. “I know. I hate seeing you so upset like this. God, what I would do to put a hex on that boy. He’s quite deserving of it, I would say. Maybe a rat’s tail, or a snake tongue.”
You giggled and sat up in bed. “Or how about we make him bald, or worse, blonde.”
Hermione laughed at that. “Oh, Godric, then we’d have another Draco running around. I don’t think I could handle that.”
“Me either,” you laughed. Slowly, your smile dropped. “I just hate him. Well, no, I don’t hate him. And I hate that! I hate that even after breaking my heart I still love him and long for him.”
Hermione sighed, “I’m sorry, (Y/N/N), I wish I could say something or do something to make this better, I just really don’t know what.”
You shrugged, “yeah, it is what it is. It’s not your fault he’s an ass.”
She chuckled. “So, what do you say? You wanna try to get down to the great hall before dinner starts? I’m sure the guys would like to see you again.”
You thought it over for a minute. You really had missed your friends. Other than Hermione, you’d ostracized yourself from everyone just to avoid Theo.
But were you really ready to see him again? You didn’t think you would ever be ready to see him again.
“You know what,” you stated, “I am gonna go to dinner tonight. And I’m gonna ignore him and see my friends who I’ve missed and ignore the hell out of him because he’s an ass and why should I be the one who has to stay in bed all day?”
“Woohoo!” Hermione cheered. “You’re amazing, let’s get you showered and dressed. I hate to say it, but if you’re gonna get back into the world, you need to wash your hair.”
You chuckled as you picked up a piece of hair to inspect it. “Yeah, okay. Shower first, look really pretty, eat dinner, come back. Piece of cake.”
You pushed the covers off of you as Hermione stood from the bed.
She said, “I’m gonna grab your clothes, so just get in the shower. We shouldn’t be too late to dinner that way.”
You nodded and headed to the bathroom. You were gonna go in there, socialize with your friends, reassure them you were fine, and everything would go back to normal. You hoped.
✰ ✰ ✰
“(Y/N)!” Ginny shouted as you and Hermione made it to the Gryffindor table. She stood up from her seat and pulled you right into a hug.
Releasing the breath you didn’t know you were holding, you smiled and held her even tighter in the hug. Ginny was an amazing friend to you. She had tried her best to see you, but you didn’t let anyone in. Only Hermione since she shared the room with you.
Pulling away, Ginny dragged you to sit down next to her. Hermione followed suit and sat on the other side of you. “Oh, we’ve missed you so much, (Y/N/N). We’ve all been so worried about you, haven’t we?”
Harry and Ron sat across from you. They both nodded their heads, agreeing with Ginny.
“Yeah, what an ass,” Ron scoffed. “Honestly, someone needs to knock that bloke down from his high horse. He doesn’t know what he’s missing, (Y/N/N).”
“Yeah,” Harry replied as he pushed some mashed potatoes in his mouth. “Theodore is a walking red flag. I for one am not sorry for him. He lost a good girl and he’s gonna regret what he’s done.”
You smiled at them. “Yeah, I am pretty awesome. Thanks guys.”
They chuckled and continued eating. Merlin knows those two could eat an entire quidditch field full of food.
“Ahem,” a throat cleared from behind you.
Turning around, you saw Enzo standing there sheepishly.
“Uh,” he stuttered, “hey, (Y/N).”
“Oh,” you said. “Uh, hi Enzo. Do you need something?” You couldn’t hide the crack in your voice. Damn it.
Enzo was probably your favorite of Theo's friends. He was always the one you had most in common with, and therefore connected with pretty easily. You’d never hung out one on one, so you couldn’t really say he was your friend.
“I-no I don’t need something, per say. I just wanted to talk to you. Alone, if, uh, that’s alright.”
You looked back at your friends, unsure if you should talk with him or not. They all seemed to be the same amount of weary as you were, but you were intrigued.
“I don’t really want to talk to Theo, if that’s what this is.”
Enzo shook his head. “No! Ahem, no. I wanted to talk to you. To, uh, apologize kind of? I don’t know. It’s fine if you don’t wanna talk to me, this was silly, I’m sorry-“
“It’s fine, Enzo,” you cut off his rambling. “I’ll speak with you.” You looked back at your friends as you stood up from the table. “I’ll be right back.”
They nodded their heads as you let Enzo lead you away from the table and out the door.
Once you two stood out in the hallway, Enzo kind of just shuffled his feet around, almost as if he was shying away from talking to you.
“Am I supposed to say something first?” You questioned, crossing your arms over your chest.
“No, sorry,” he said as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I just feel a little awkward. I know what happened between you and Theo, but I guess I just hoped that didn’t mean we couldn’t be friends anymore.”
Your eyes softened a little at his confession. Enzo’s cheeks blushed a little as you stared at him.
You sighed. You and Enzo really had been good friends, and you weren’t exactly keen on losing his friendship.
“I mean,” he continued, “you’re the only one who doesn’t make fun of my poetry, you’re the one I go to when I want to talk about books or get recommendations from, and I just would hate to lose our friendship just because I’m friends with Theo as well.”
Your heart melted. “Enzo, of course I still want to be friends with you. I will admit, I was a little nervous you wouldn’t want to talk to me anymore after Theo broke up with me. I really enjoy being your friend.”
Enzo smiled in relief. “Oh good. I thought this would be more awkward and a little bit more sad than how it’s actually going.”
You giggled. “Thank god. I don’t know what I would have done if I just had a real breakup as well as a friendship breakup.”
Enzo smiled awkwardly. “Yeah, I am really sorry about that. I don’t know why he would ever break up with you in the first place. You’re so kind, and I thought you brought the best out in him.”
You forced an awkward smile. You really did not want to be talking about Theo right now, especially not about how you made him a better person.
Before you could reply, a voice yelled out from behind you.
“Oi!”
Turning around, you could see Theo storming up towards you and Enzo.
“What the fuck, mate?” Theo huffed as he got in between you and Enzo.
“Woah!” You shouted, backing up as Theo got up into Enzo’s face. “Theo, what are you doing?”
He ignored you and kept talking to Enzo. “Are you hitting on my girlfriend? Right after all the shit we just went through?”
“What?” Enzo squeaked. “I’m not hitting on her, I was just talking to her.”
You were pissed. Your fists balled up at your sides as you stomped up to Theo. You grabbed onto his shoulder and yanked him away from Enzo. Theo didn’t see it coming, so he stumbled and fell back a couple of steps.
“Get the hell away from him,” you growled. “And what the fuck is wrong with you, Theodore?”
You got between Theo and Enzo, pushing your finger into your ex-boyfriend’s chest accusingly.
“First,” you said, “you break up with me, break my heart, and then you have the fucking nerve to come up here all righteous and accuse Enzo of whatever the fuck you said, all while calling me your girlfriend when you’re the asshole who broke up with me!”
You glared at Theo, watching as his anger turned soft. “I am not your girlfriend anymore, Theodore Nott. You’re the one who made that happen, so you have no fucking right to come up in my conversations acting like I owe you anything.”
“(Y/N),” he softly said. “I… I’m sorry. You’re right, I shouldn’t have come out here all crazy. I just, I hate seeing you with anyone else, even if it’s one of my friends.”
He turned to talk to Enzo, “I’m sorry, mate. Will you give us a few minutes?”
Enzo nodded his head and gave you an awkward smile before heading back into the dining hall.
You huffed, settling down a little as you stared at Theo.
He looked tired. His eyes had circles underneath them, and his cheeks didn’t have their usual flush to them. He was as gorgeous as ever, but he looked drained.
“You don’t look so good,” you pointed out, trying to sound nonchalant.
Theo frowned and softly said, “neither do you.”
Your lips pulled tight in a frown. Theo didn’t need to know how much he had affected you with the breakup.
You sighed, “what are you doing, Theo?”
He shrugged and put his hands in his pockets awkwardly. “I, uh, I’m not really sure. I just didn’t like seeing you with Enzo.”
“Why? You broke up with me.”
Theo huffed, “I don’t know. I just don’t like seeing you with anyone else. It still feels like I’m supposed to be there. Like I’m supposed to be the one with you. I miss you.”
You shook your head as hurt started to creep back into your heart. “Don’t say things like that to me, Theo. Not after what you did. I loved you, and you broke up with me out of nowhere for no good reason, either.”
“I’m sorry,” he tried to reach for you, but you shrugged off his hand. “I don’t know why I did what I did. I just know that I regret it like crazy. I want to be with you, (Y/N). I’ve always wanted to be with you, I was stupid to let you go. Can you forgive me?”
Your lips pulled tight. “Theo, I can’t just get back with you like this.” You said. “I don’t trust you anymore. You broke my heart, and broke my trust. You gave me no reason for the breakup, so who’s to say it won’t happen right after we get back together?”
He shook his head. “Dolcezza, no. I won’t do that to you, not again. What can I do to prove this to you?”
You shrugged. “I don’t know. I can’t get back with you. Not like this, and not so soon. You really hurt me, Theo.”
“Well, what if we try being friends at least?” He suggested.
“You wanna be my friend?”
“No,” he said immediately. “But I’ll settle for being your friend for as long as it takes to win you back.”
Your heart warmed at what he had said. Maybe you could try being friends with him. He did really hurt you, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss him.
“Okay,” you decided, “I’ll give you a chance to be my friend. Don’t hurt me again, Theodore, or I’ll get Ginny on you.”
He chuckled. “Don’t worry, darling, I’m gonna do whatever it takes to get my baby back. I can promise you that.”
#AW SNAP#THERES ONE FROM THAT PROMPT LIST#theodore nott x reader#theodore nott#theo nott#theo nott x reader#harry potter#draco malfoy x reader#draco malfoy#mattheo riddle x reader#mattheo riddle#enzo berkshire#lorenzo berkshire#ron weasly x reader#george weasley#fred weasly x reader#cedric diggory x reader
5K notes
·
View notes
Text
coming home
Max Verstappen x reader
summary: max makes the decision no one thought he actually would. and he made the decision for you || word count: 950 || masterlist
You’re screaming as Max crosses the line. Yes, it’s P5 but it’s a championship secured. The team around you erupts as their dreams come true. There was a huge sense of anticipation as you ran through the pit lane towards parc ferme and towards him. You watch as he jumps out of the car with a weight visibly off his shoulders. He runs towards you, not a glance at anyone else.
“I’m so proud of you!” You’re shouting over the noise of the crowd but Max only hears you.
“I couldn’t have done it without you Schatz. For a second I didn’t think I would.”
“You made it. You won.”
He tears his helmet off, crashing his lips into yours and he finds himself home. The rest of the night is a blur as you watch Max receive his well earned celebrations for a season hard-fought. There’s nothing that could sour yours or his mood as the night burns on and Max goes from interview to interview, waiting for the time he can drink so much he forgets.
“Max, congratulations on the championship win. Would you like to speak about how much this means to you after this year?”
Max rubs a hand through his hair and adjusts his hat, a nervous tick he’d always had as he brought the microphone to his jaw. “Yeah. This championship means a lot because we weren’t sure it was going to happen earlier in the season. Of course it wouldn’t have been possible without my amazing team working so hard to make the car as good as it could be. It’s the people around us who push us to be the best versions of ourselves.”
Max can’t hope to get away sooner, to his team waiting to celebrate and to you. There’s always a choice in the back of his mind that tells him to abandon everything and run for the hills with you. Except this time, with the championship tucked in his belt, he’s not sure what’s stopping him anymore.
The triple header came to a close in Abu Dhabi, Max closing his season out with a glorious win but there’s a feeling in your gut that tells you Max is going to say it. You’d discussed his retirement before, and you’d always tried to persuade him to stick out his contract. You would tell him that you both had time to live your lives after his career. The last thing you wanted was for Max to throw his dream away for you.
A champagne-drenched Max finds you after the podium hiding in his driver’s room. “You’re going to announce it, aren’t you?” You quietly ask, not wanting to ruin the joy but needing an answer.
Max grinned, stripping his race suit from his body. “Is it that obvious?”
“Only to me.”
“Then you know I am.”
“Max-“
He calms your worries with a simple declaration. “I love you. I know this is what I want. I’ve had my time, I don’t need anything more than you.”
You bite back the sting of tears and pull Max into a hug, pressing your lips against his.
“Is that a yes?” He whispers to you. “You’re okay with this?”
”Yes. I love you.”
With a kiss to his cheek, you send him to the hounds of journalists in the press conference and promise you’ll be right here when he’s done. It takes a moment for the right time to arise but when Max is asked a question about his hopes for the future, he only knows one answer.
“The future? My future? I’m retiring from formula one... effective immediately. I will be taking no more questions at this time. Thank you.”
And with that, Max put down his microphone. He stood and carefully removed his red bull hat and took a moment to simply look before he placed it where he had been sitting. He ignored the journalists practically screaming at him and the cameras that sounded like static. Without a word, he walked out of the door and promised himself he would never return.
The second he walks out of the door, your arms are wrapped around him and he falls into your embrace. Your words flow through him without being absorbed as he remembers and realises exactly what he’s done. A part of him will miss this life but most of his heart is grateful he stopped before it consumed his very being.
He had proved himself, set records for the ages and done what any formula one driver aims to do: win championships. Was it so unfair to want a different life than the one he had grown into? Was it so unfair to want that perfect family with a beachfront penthouse in Monaco or even a country home in the Netherlands? A house that always had spare bedrooms for guests to drop by, a house with love radiating from its walls and beauty running through it’s floors. Was it so unfair to want that before life slipped past him and he was a 40-year-old driving for a bottom ranking team trying to keep the dream alive?
But Max had a different dream now, a dream nothing could stop him from achieving.
Four years later, that dream is most certainly in progress as you sit in the window of that Dutch country home watching Max as he runs after your eldest daughter. There’s a babe in your arms and a feeling that nothing will ever be as perfect as this. There have been no regrets about leaving racing and no regrets about leaving that whole world behind.
Who knows what the future will bring? That’s the best part, it’s your future.
#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen#muxsh#muxshwriting#formula one x reader#formula 1#formula one#f1 x reader#f1#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#abu dhabi 2024
564 notes
·
View notes
Text
to all the girls you've loved before part seven
author's note: WHEW okay i am so sorry it took five days short of a year to finish this. what a wild ride it has been! i just wanted to shout out my dear friend @dani746 who has cheered me on (and roasted me) many times throughout this process. i probably wouldn't have finished this without you. i also want to shout out my other friend @thewintersoldierdisaster who helped me process so much of this part to get it written. you both are the best and i owe you both big time! i also owe all of you who have read and reblogged and replied and liked this series over the last year and a half, you have been so amazing! anyway, here's part seven! (and not to worry, while this is the last part of the series, i will be writing more about mama bear and mat).
pairing: single dad!mat barzal x reader
summary: being a nanny for rich people was probably the worst thing that ever happened to you, until you started working for mat.
warnings: children, rich people, fear of falling in love, anxiety
day seventy-one
you arrived at sydney and matt's in thirty minutes. it probably would've taken less time had traffic not been absolutely abhorrent due to the holiday.
you thanked the driver and paid before grabbing your bag and walking out into the cold air.
in your rush, you forgot a jacket.
you stumbled up the martin's front steps, and dialed sydney's number, pointedly ignoring the five missed calls and eleven texts from mat.
"hello?" thank god sydney sounded awake.
"hey," you exhaled. "can you let me in? i need a place to stay for tonight."
you could hear her mumble something to her husband. and the door was opened thirty seconds later.
matt ushered you in without a word. sydney met you in the foyer with a crease between her brows at the sight of your jacket-less frame and the bag in your hands.
"what happened?" she asked as she led you to the living room and sat you down on a couch. a ringtone sounded and when you turned around matt was answering his phone.
your focus shifted to matt who was looking straight at you. "hey barzy," he said. "yeah, she's here." he nodded, but his eyes were focused on you and sydney. "she got here just a minute ago. no she doesn't have a jacket. syd's with her now." matt hummed into the phone. "we'll drive her to the airport tomorrow, don't worry about it."
you wanted to bury yourself into the pillows. you wanted the couch to swallow you whole.
you didn't hear the end of the conversation matt had on the phone. to be quite frank, you weren't sure you wanted to hear it at all.
matt joined you and syd on the sectional. he threw an arm around the back of the couch and the very sight of it made you sick. you loved them together, you did, that wasn't your problem.
it just reminded you how jason never did anything close to that.
or more importantly (and maybe this was your bigger concern): your shoulders felt cold without mat's arm wrapped around them.
"what happened?" matt asked. and you had to give it to him, you appreciated the "no bullshit" approach he was taking, even if you felt a little attacked.
you opened and closed your mouth repeatedly, but no words came out.
"i'm asking because barzy sounded like he was two seconds away from a full blown panic attack."
you could feel your ears getting hot. your cheeks were getting warm. you wanted to throw up.
"we kissed," you mumbled.
the martins blinked, and you had to give credit where credit was due, sydney didn't shout "i told you so." matt, though, seemed to recognize that the conversation was probably best had between you and sydney because he pressed a kiss to the side of her head and walked out of the room.
sydney nodded and cocked her head to the side. "why did you run?" she asked.
you broke eye contact to look at your hands which were furiously picking at your cuticles. you could see her move closer, leaning forward on her elbows.
sydney said your name quietly. "what happened? did he overstep a boundary? i can get matt to say something to him--"
"i kissed him," you admitted, still not looking up. "i kissed him and freaked out and ran."
“why?”
you exhaled and continued picking at your fingers. "jason said some shit that just got under my skin and now i can't stop thinking about it."
sydney waited for a moment before she spoke again. "what did he say?"
you couldn't see, and it took you a minute to realize that it was because your eyes were blurring with tears. it felt pathetic to sniffle and wallow when it was your fault.
it was all your fault.
"no it's not, honey," sydney said, sounding closer than she did a few minutes ago. you didn't even realize you had said anything. "what did your ex say to you?"
"he said mat would eventually get bored of me. whether that meant just in general or if we slept together."
"you know that's not true, right?"
you halfheartedly shrugged.
sydney was beside you now. she placed her hand on your knee and squeezed. "honey, it's not true. jason treated you like shit, if the one interaction i saw the two of you have was any indication." when you didn't reply, she sighed. "we don't have to talk about it anymore. let's get the guest room set up so you can get some sleep."
it took all of ten minutes for the guest room to be ready. you were curled into the bed moments later.
you found yourself staring at the ceiling wondering how you could've ruined your life so quickly.
you shouldn't have kissed him.
god what were you thinking.
at a professional level, he was your boss, at a technical level, he was a roommate and also—
the best guy you'd ever known.
not that it mattered at the end of the day. you kissed him and ruined any sort of relationship, professional or platonic, you could've had. you might not have been a stem girly, might not be a rocket scientist, but even you could knew that it didn't matter if the stars aligned—
there was no way mat barzal was in love with you.
so you cried yourself to sleep and dreamt of the hazel eyes that had enraptured your heart.
day seventy-two
matt drove you to the airport and thankfully said nothing about your puffy eyes and messy hair. it was safe to say you were restless all night, barely feeling like you slept at all when your alarm went off.
“do you need someone to pick you up when you get back into town?” matt asked as jfk airport approached.
you hesitated. “i hadn't thought that far ahead,” you admitted. “mat was supposed to pick me up, but i don't think he'll want to see me.” not after you ruined everything.
matt nodded. “text syd and let her know when your flight gets into town and we’ll figure something out. if not us, then i’m sure the lees can help.”
when he pulled up to the airport, you gave him a grateful smile and a small thanks before grabbing your personal item and carry on and getting out of his suv. for a brief second, you contemplated jumping back in his car and begging matt to take you back to mat and ella, but you forced your legs to carry you into the airport, telling yourself your mother would be upset if you missed your flight.
so you walked through the airport, through tsa, to your gate, onto the plane, like a zombie. you couldn't stop imagining the way mat’s lips felt against yours, couldn't stop hearing jason’s words in your head like a broken record.
and when your plane took off, you imagined and wondered how mat did it all the time. your stomach dropped as you increased in elevation. your heart lurched when you looked at your lock screen, a photo of the three of you after one of his games.
you should change it, but you loved that little girl and that photo was one time of many recent memories where you felt like you truly belonged.
you locked your phone to keep yourself from thinking about it too much.
your mom met you in your hometown’s airport with a cheesy poster with your baby pictures plastered all over it. she squealed and shoved the poster at your father in favor of nearly tackling you to the ground. you could've cried in her arms, the weight of the last few months catching up to you. for all your parents’ faults, of which there were many, it felt good to be with them again.
your mom pulled back and gave you a watery smile. her hands framed your cheeks as she pulled your head down to place a kiss in your hair. “we've missed you, sweetheart,” she said. “christmas wasn’t christmas without you.”
“missed you too, mom.”
your dad scooped up your carry on and led you to the beat up suv he'd had since you were a sophomore in high school.
the backseat felt familiar like wearing your dad’s old college t-shirt, like fitting into something you'd previously forgotten about. your parents recapped the last few months to you, as they told you about the family drama and what happened at christmas. you were only half listening, doing your best to keep up when you left your heart and mind in new york. you glanced at your parents, married for thirty years, been through their own fair share of struggles. you passively wondered if there was ever this crippling fear in their chests at the idea of loving someone else, or of even falling in love and the enormity of it.
you knew logistically you weren't the first person to fear the act of falling, but you felt so alone in it.
wasn't it crazy? humans had been falling in love for ages and yet you felt completely isolated in this feeling. you weren't the first woman to fall in love with her boss, with a single father, with an athlete. you probably weren't the first to fall in love with a man who was all of the above—
but god it felt like it.
the entire experience felt confining. you knew there were girls dating famous athletes, but they were models, or rich, or childhood sweethearts, or not as mentally fucked up as you currently felt. you were never gonna be sydney or grace or sofia or any of the other nice girls you’d met. you were a nanny, a girl who chose a useless major in a highly competitive city who couldn't handle the stress of a starbucks in new york city at 8am. then you’d gone and kissed mat and consequently felt lighter than you had in the weeks it’d been since you found out your ex cheated on you with the girl you lived with.
but as soon as it ended, you remembered seeing the rangers jersey discarded on your living room floor. you remembered the way your stomach dropped to your toes, how you wanted so badly to pretend it wasn’t happening, but the noises from your roommate’s bedroom were evidence enough.
the writing was in the stars, it was in the fucking clouds, on the fucking wall. every man you'd had been with prior, you'd realized, treated you like garbage. your high school boyfriend never texted or called you back at a reasonable time. your sophomore year of college boyfriend never fully committed, saying he was too busy during football season.
then there was jason who didn’t really show red flags until you started working for mat.
he’ll get bored of you.
“honey? you okay? you went quiet for a second.”
your mom’s voice snapped you out of whatever that mental spiral was.
you gave her your best convincing smile and nodded. “just thinking.”
“how’s that boyfriend of yours?” your dad asked. “jack? joseph?”
“jason?” you gritted out through your painfully tight smile.
your dad snapped and smiled. “that’s his name. how is he?”
“i wouldn’t know, we’re not together anymore,” you mumbled just loud enough for them to hear, but not loud enough for it to echo in your brain.
the car went silent, even as the radio crackled out some random eighties bop from when your parents were in college.
“are you okay?” your mom asked.
“i’m fine.”
day seventy-three
your parents didn't make you celebrate christmas as soon as you got into town. they, thankfully, waited a day before calling your entire extended family over to watch you open presents alone. you smiled and thanked each member for their corresponding present. you dutifully laughed at every joke and sipped at your glass of red wine in hopes that the acidity would distract you from heavier things.
like the texts from sydney asking if you were alright.
or the video from mat of ella playing with the stuffed hippo you got her. you'd watched it ten times just to hear her laugh that she definitely inherited from his childlike cackle. you couldn't help but see the scrunched up face of ella’s that was a carbon copy of her father’s. but even after all that, you still didn't have the heart to reply. what would you even say?
“aw she’s so cute! also sorry i kissed you and ran away?”
you were on your fourteenth watch of the video when he texted again.
mat: let me know when your flight is coming back into town, we’ll pick you up.
you locked your phone and took a sip of your wine. and when your cousin did a cartwheel in the middle of the living room and nearly knocked over the christmas tree? you smiled politely while her parents chided her while you tried to forget the similar stories mat’s parents told you about his childhood.
as the family members cleared out, you helped your parents clean up the common areas. you were in the kitchen with your mom loading the dishwasher when she asked the question you were dreading.
“when are you going back to new york?”
your hands nearly dropped the plate you were holding, but you recovered quickly. “i have to be back before the isles’ next roadie.” a non answer, but you didn't feel like pulling out your calendar and counting the days to see how close you were to facing the mess you left on the island.
“are you staying for new year’s?”
you didn't need to look at your calendar to know you'd already been gone for too long. you'd memorized mat’s schedule at the beginning of the season when you started working for him. his roadie started on new year’s eve.
when you did the dreaded math, you had maximum two days left before you had to head back and take care of ella like nothing had happened.
“i can’t, mat has a road trip that starts on new year’s eve.” you couldn't even look at her. “i’m sorry, mom.”
but she shrugged your apology off and hugged you from behind with a tight grip. “don't apologize, baby. i just wish you'd tell us what's going on.”
“there’s nothing going on—”
your mother said your name, a cross between gentle and chastising. “i was born at night, but not last night. i know you, i know when something’s wrong. if you don't want to talk about it, that’s fine. you're an adult. but don't lie and say you're okay.”
you nodded but didn't offer up any more information.
“when you're ready,” she said, rubbing your back. “when you're ready to talk, i’m here to listen.” your mom pressed a kiss to your cheek, squeezed your shoulders, and walked out of the kitsch, leaving you to gaze out the window over the sink.
day seventy-five
sydney picked you up from the airport at noon with a certain smile on her face that you couldn't place. the backseat was devoid of her kids, so you assumed they were with the nanny or matt was home already with the kids.
she did most of the talking, which you were thankful for. you still felt unsettled back on the island so soon. too soon, if anyone asked. there was nothing more that you wanted than to go back home and hide under the covers in your childhood bedroom, pretending that your biggest fears were monsters in the shapes of shadows from your closet doors.
you were only halfway paying attention. your thoughts were monopolized by the last memories you had before going to your parents’ house. the sound of ella’s laugh when she opened your gift, the warmth in your chest at the anders and grace’s christmas party because you felt so welcomed in by people you'd only known for a few months, the overwhelming unnamable emotion in your stomach at the photo album mat gave you, the capsizing undertow feeling of being seen and known, how mat’s lips felt against your own like every good thing you’d ever done was to make sure you deserved that moment.
you were floating in your own thought bubbles when sydney parked her car in the garage. your eyes didn't wander to the car parked in the street, or the reason why she brought you to her place instead of the one you shared with mat.
you weren’t thinking of any of that until you heard his laugh from the living room.
but your feet were already carrying you there, following sydney diligently like you always did. you stood there in the entrance of the living room, your bag still wheeled behind you.
he'd robbed you of all oxygen.
it was like a spotlight was on him and the nearly eleven month old baby in his arms. a closer look showed that ella was barely holding her eyes open, but she was clinging to her hippo like her life depended on it.
she looked so small, curled into mat’s chest, but so big compared to when you first met her.
her father cheering loudly when he scored on marty, had her flinching awake. her brown eyes opened wide and by some act of grace (or maybe torture on your part) she made eye contact with you and whined. ella reached her hands out for you.
and who were you to deny her?
you ignored the feeling of his eyes on your face, ignored the way his mouth opened in your peripheral vision. instead, you picked up ella and bounced her as she tucked her head under your chin, ignoring the hazel eyes that were locked on your face.
“you're back,” were the first words mat said to you since you left his apartment that night. “how was your trip?”
you fussed over ella in your arms to keep him from seeing how your hands shook around him and vaguely registered that marty had paused the game. “it was fine,” you said. “how long did your family stay in town?”
“they left yesterday, told me to tell you goodbye.”
you nodded, unable to form any other words to keep the conversation going, so you walked towards the kitchen in hopes sydney would follow. she did, thankfully, and soon enough the sound of chel echoed through the downstairs.
“what was that?” sydney whispered. “you haven't seen him in a few days and that’s all you have to say?”
“what did you want me to say? ‘sorry i kissed you and ran away. hope your holiday was fun?’”
sydney sighed through her nose and placed her hands on her hips. “you’re gonna have to talk about it eventually.”
“and i get that, but i don’t want an audience when we talk about it.”
she nodded and looked to the side. “i just hate to see you two like this.”
“like what?”
“like you're strangers.”
a cleared throat kept you from replying, but it did have you turning your head to see mat leaned against the entryway of the kitchen. “i don’t mean to rush you, but i think we need to get ella home so she's in her crib for at least a portion of her nap.”
quickly you nodded and bid goodbye to sydney and, at the door, you smiled at marty as he opened the front door. mat had his hand on your suitcase and was already carrying it outside to his car like it weighed nothing, which it certainly was not light because you had to sit on it with your parents’ obese cat in your lap while your mom zipped it up.
mat loaded your suitcase, you strapped his child in her car seat. he got in the driver’s seat while you slid into shotgun.
and neither of you said a word.
not until you got about five minutes into the drive. it was almost like mat couldn't handle the quiet anymore. “we don’t have to talk about it after this, but i think we should at least acknowledge what happened, right?”
“we don't have to acknowledge it at all, really. it was unprofessional and crossed too many boundaries. i think it’s best if we just forget about it.”
you were too busy staring out the window, watching the buildings pass to see something like hurt flash in mat’s eyes. “why? why do we have to forget it?”
he will get bored of you.
you shook your head and continued to look out the window.
“no, i think i deserve an answer, a reason why you ran out of our apartment on christmas and didn’t say anything.”
“it’s nothing, mat.”
“it’s something if you won't even look at me.” he sighed and adjusted his grip on the steering wheel. judging by the white color of his knuckles, you guessed he'd only tightened his hold. “i just—” he cut himself off with a sigh and rubbed at his jaw with one hand. “do you still want to look after ella? because if you don't, i’ll need some time to find someone else—”
you flinched into the passenger window. “why would you think i wouldn't want to watch her?”
mat shrugged. “i don't know, you don't want to seem to be around me and considering she's my daughter, i just figured.”
“as long as you're okay with it, i’d like to keep nannying. but if you want me to find another place to stay—”
“don't worry about it, it won't be a problem.”
you nodded but didn't say a word for the rest of the ride home. not to worry though, neither did mat.
when you finally got back to the apartment, you grabbed your suitcase while he maneuvered ella out of her car seat and into his arms. neither of you spoke, not even as you went your separate ways as you got into the apartment. you split in the hallway with him going into ella’s nursery and you into your room.
you at least waited to hear the door shut behind you before your shoulders slumped and tears pricked at your eyes.
he’ll get bored of you. he’ll get bored of you. he’ll get bored of you. he’ll get bored of you. he’ll get bored of you. he’ll get bored of you. he’ll get bored of you. he’ll get bored of you. he’ll get bored of you. he’ll get bored—
i’ll need some time to find someone else. i’ll need some time to find someone else. i’ll need some time to find someone else. i’ll need some time to find someone else. i’ll need some time to find someone—
someone else. someone else. someone else. someone else—
a knock on the door startled you enough that you had to cover your mouth to muffle the noise that escaped your lips.
“you okay?” he asked.
you managed to clear your throat and squeak out a “mhm.” you didn't hear any movement, probably mat wondering if he should press the issue, but after a few moments, you could hear feet padding back down the hallway.
you should’ve unpacked, you should’ve cleaned your room from how you left it. you should’ve done a lot of things. but you took a shower where you cried the entire time. then you got in bed and wished you were in your parents’ house so you could smell the slightly burned sugar cookies your mom made and hear your dad’s disgruntled sighs from the living room when his football team didn't play well.
now you were sitting in a cold city that you used to adore, but it felt like the love had evaporated once you were shown how unlovable you were. jason cheated, mat suggested a replacement, maybe that’s all you were. maybe you were just the ikea couch that moved from apartment to apartment only to be replaced with a crate and barrel sofa when the owner got a house.
there was no telling how long time passed before mat knocked again. “tito’s coming over, did you want anything? he’s offering to pick something up.”
you cleared your throat yet again before speaking. “no, no i’m good.”
“you sure? he's getting pizza from borelli’s.”
your stomach growled but you ignored it. “i’m sure, thanks mat.”
the footsteps retreated, leaving you to your thoughts.
it wasn’t long before ella woke up, forcing you to leave your little cave you called a bedroom. she smiled when she saw you, all her four little baby teeth proudly on display. you pulled her out of her sleep sack and changed her diaper, all while her legs and arms were flapping around happily.
“did you have a good nap, ella bean?” she didn't say any intelligible words, mostly just babble, but you smiled anyway. “i bet, baby girl. do you wanna go see dada and uncle tito?”
her deep brown eyes lit up. her eyes were probably the only thing she got from her mom considering she was a carbon copy of mat.
once her diaper was changed, you buttoned her onesie and pulled her little pants back on before you carried her into the living room.
both mat and tito’s eyes lit up when they saw her. almost immediately, ella started kicking her legs and pushing away from you to go to her dad. instead of bringing her straight to mat, you let her down on the floor and watched as she crawled her way to him.
she’d gotten much faster in your absence, even if it was only for a few days. and to your joy, and maybe a little tweak of sadness, she pulled herself up on mat’s knees where he pulled her into his lap.
“how was practice?” you asked.
mat blinked at you. “we didn’t come from practice...”
“i know,” you replied. “but i didn't get to ask you earlier this morning, so i’m asking now.”
tito’s eyes bounce back and forth from you and mat, almost like he’s unsure of what to do.
mat shrugged. “it was fine, just a lot of bag skating.”
and given their performance a few nights ago, that wasn’t completely surprising.
you nodded and walked into the kitchen when the tension became too much. you gripped the cold counter and took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself.
i’ll need some time to find someone else. i’ll need some time to find someone else. i’ll need some time—
“you okay?”
your eyes shot open and you spun around to see beau standing in the kitchen with a furrow between his brows.
“y-yeah, why?”
he jerked a thumb over his shoulder where mat was playing with ella on the living room floor, or at least you assumed he was, you couldn't see him from where you were standing. “you're joking, right? you seriously don’t know why? it’s been almost three months and i’ve never heard you talk to each other that way.”
“like what?”
“short.” when you said nothing, he continued. “what’s going on?”
“you mean he didn't tell you?”
“tell me what? that you kissed him and ran away and didn't speak to him while you were gone? yeah, he told me that. didn't tell me anything else though.”
beau wasn’t being cruel, you knew that. he was simply narrating what you had done in a matter of fact manner.
so why did it feel like someone was twisting a knife in your chest?
he sighed and placed his hands on his hips. “look, i’m not judging you, i just hate to see you both acting this way.”
“acting like what?”
“strangers. or maybe worse than strangers.”
“what could be worse than strangers?”
“estranged lovers.”
a scoff left your lips before you could stop it. “one kiss hardly makes us estranged lovers.”
“no but it does make you two act like you don’t know how to be around each other.”
you refused to look at him, choosing instead to study the grain of the marble countertop. “he’s my boss, tito. i shouldn't have done it.”
he fixed you with a look you couldn't quite interpret. maybe it was similar to one sydney gave winnie after she asked her mom a million questions when none of them made sense and had no obvious connection between them. “you're lying to yourself if you think that’s all you are to him, if that’s all he is to you.”
you shrugged your shoulders. “that’s all we can be.”
“says who?”
no one, no one but you. you and that cruel voice in your head that sounds a lot like your ex. “we just can’t.”
“maybe you just need to be proven wrong. allow him to prove you wrong.”
day seventy-seven
“are you still coming to the game tonight?” mat called from his room while you sat in the living room watching ella play with the stacking cups before she got mad and knocked them over.
to say things had returned to normal would be a lie, but you and mat were good at pretending the elephant wasn’t in the room or even in the apartment building. “i’m not sure,” you replied loud enough for him to hear. “ella’s been kinda cranky all day, hasn’t napped well.”
on cue, ella knocked down the cups and screamed bloody murder. you cringed almost immediately. as soon as the scream was over, you could hear mat’s sigh from his bedroom. his voice sounded closer when he spoke again. “you think she’s getting sick?”
you glanced up and saw mat walking through the doorway. in his suit, he still managed to squat next to you. you quickly averted your eyes instead of staring at his thighs. “i don't know, she doesn’t have a fever, she could be teething or it could just be a sleep regression. all three are possible.”
mat leaned in and ruffled the hair on ella’s head. any attitude or frustration she had evaporated the second she saw her dad. she lifted her arms and babbled until he picked her up. he stood up to his full height and placed the back of his hand against her forehead. “does she feel warm to you?
you stood and replaced his hand with yours. you hummed. “maybe a little, but it’s also a little warm in here.”
mat nodded before he kissed the top of ella’s head. “just let me know if you plan on coming.”
“we’ll be there,” you said before you could stop yourself.
if you were a painter, you'd capture the look of mild surprise on mat’s face because it was equal parts endearing and handsome, you couldn't describe it in just words. “really?”
“yeah,” you said, a small smile on your face. “you’ll need your number one fans there.” and even if you doubted your permanence in his life, there was no doubt in your mind where he ranked in yours. “i mean,” you babbled. “aside from your parents and liana.”
mat chuckled a little. “you definitely rank higher than liana. you don't roast me as much as she does.”
“yeah well, she knows more about hockey than i do.”
his eyes looked into yours and you felt the vulnerability of being seen, of being observed through a microscope.
he’ll get bored of you—
“you should know that doesn't matter to me, it’s the fact that you show up.”
“i’ll keep showing up then,” you smiled. “even if i have no idea what’s going on.”
his smile matched your own. “i’ll come home and explain it to you then.”
you probably could’ve stared at him for eternity, his floppy hair and hazel eyes but ella screamed and wriggled around until mat put her back down on the floor, ending whatever moment you thought you were having.
he glanced at his wrist watch and cursed. “i gotta go or i’ll be late, you have the tickets right?”
“they're on my phone, you sent them yesterday.”
he nodded looking at you then ella, then back at you. “i’ll see you later, then. text me if something changes, i’ll check between periods.”
“you really shouldn't—”
“but i’m going to anyway!” he exclaimed before shutting the door behind him.
ella got a kick out of the uber ride to ubs, even from the comfort of her car seat. the driver was kind enough to play gracie’s corner, which was ella’s new musical obsession. she was giddy for once (because she’d been cranky all day) and didn't even protest when you put the headphones on her head as you entered the noisy arena.
you made your way down to the glass where sydney and grace were waiting with their kids. while it wasn’t your first time at a game with ella, it was your first time this close to the ice. mat had sent you tickets because the wags didn't rent a suite out for the game this time. which, in all honesty, was more than fine with you, experiencing a live game close up sounded more than fun.
the boys came out skating at a pace you couldn't dream of replicating. your eyes were as wide as ella’s as you both looked around, stunned.
“you okay?” sydney chuckled. “you look like a deer in headlights.”
you nodded. “they're just...really fast.”
grace and sydney laughed but nodded along with you.
after the initial lap of skating, matt and anders came over to say hi to their kids and wives. matt had a knowing look in his eye and skated away momentarily. maybe you were a little dumb for being surprised when mat, your mat (but not really) came up to the boards grinning ear to ear.
ella, by an act of god, recognized him even with his helmet on (not that it covered his whole face, but you'd seen videos of babies freaking out when their dads shave so you weren't sure how she would react). she was flapping her arms and squealing, a nice change from the ear piercing scream she’d been giving you all afternoon.
you couldn't really hear what mat was saying, but you saw the happiness in his eyes, the matching grin he shared with his daughter. you didn't even realize you were staring at him until his eyes met yours. he gave you another award winning smile before grabbing a puck and tossing it over for a girl a few seats away from you.
before you realized the time, mat skated away from you so he could finish warming up. that, of course, didn't stop him from looking over in your general direction to look at ella who was enraptured by the entire experience.
the buzzer sounded shortly after and the game started.
ella made it about seventeen minutes into the first period before deciding she’d had enough. smiling apologetically to the other girls, you said, “sorry, the queen has decided it’s time for bed.”
“how're you getting home?” syd asked.
“uber,” you said.
“text us when you get home,” grace said.
you nodded and grabbed your things and placed ella in her car seat before heading up the numerous stairs to the lobby area of the arena. you sent a text to mat after you ordered your uber but before you walked outside, not wanting to stand out in the cold longer than you had to.
you:
sorry to miss the game! the queen has said she’s had enough. we’re about to get a taxi.
you didn't expect him to reply soon. you managed to get an uber and head back to your shared apartment when you got a text back.
mat:
call me when you get home.
before you could stop yourself, you furrowed your brows and replied.
you:
what if you’re in the game?
his reply was immediate.
mat:
call anyway, if i have time during the second intermission, i’ll call back. if not, i’ll see you at home.
as if on instinct, you smiled at your phone. you didn't even realize the uber arrived at your apartment building until the driver threw the car in park.
“thank you,” you said as you climbed out of the car and unhooked ella’s car seat.
the first thing you did upon entering the apartment was put ella and her car seat on the floor. the second was pull out your phone and call mat like he asked you to. it rang twice before your heard his voice on the other line.
“you home?”
you blinked. “you actually picked up?
he made a noise that sounded somewhere between a laugh and a scoff. “you're surprised?”
“you have a game to focus on.”
“this isn’t a lengthy conversation. i just needed to know that you got home alright.”
“well we’re home. you can stop stressing about us and go win a game instead.”
he cackled through the phone right before he said a quick bye and hung up.
you squatted down to ella’s eye level. she was dozing off in the car seat and you were already not looking forward to the tantrum she’d throw as you tried to get her out and into pajamas. a tired baby barzy was a cranky baby barzy.
just as expected, she started crying and rubbing her eyes when you picked her up. she cried even as you changed her diaper and into her pajamas. she cried through chicka chicka boom boom and the little blue truck which she usually loved. she cried up until the moment you put her in her sleep sack and into her crib.
once she was down, you came back into the living room and started cleaning up to the sound of mat’s game on the television. you still weren't an expert on hockey, but you did at least try to understand what was going on. the important thing was that the isles were winning by a goal.
mat didn't get home until closer to midnight. you were still up, watching carpet cleaning videos on your phone. maybe you should've done something more productive, like cracking open one of the fifty books stacked in piles in your room, but after all the screaming from ella, you just wanted to see a dirty carpet turn white.
“you're still up?” he asked, a slight note of surprise in his voice as he walked through the door.
you shrugged. “was waiting for my hockey debrief.” you watched as he sat his hockey back next to the door and ran a hand down his face. “congrats on the win, by the way.”
he crossed the room and plopped down on the sofa next to you and groaned. “i can’t even think about winning when my body hurts.”
“that’s what happens when you can't stay on your feet for more than half a shift.”
he chuckled a little. “not you too, i get enough shit from the guys.”
“if you want it to stop, you should stop falling down.”
abruptly, mat turned to you. “can you even skate?”
“no, but you can. you even get paid to do so. which is why it’s so surprising that you can’t stay on your feet.” he rolled his eyes but there was a smile on his face. “what?” you smiled back. “what is it?”
“nothing,” he said. “i’m just glad we’re cool again.”
day eighty-nine
you felt like a zombie, simply put. ella was eleven months old and shouldn't be going through a sleep regression, yet she was up on and off all night. you knew that it was because she’d learned a new skill, one you couldn't wait to show mat when he got home.
part of you was nervous that he would be upset that he wasn't there for it. last roadie, he came home to ella cruising along furniture and taking steps while she pushed her walker or held your hands.
it took him two days to come to terms with it.
so you sat on the couch and watched ella play in the ball pit playpen with her stuffed hippo. any other time, you might have cleaned up after her, picking up the balls she’d thrown out (because that was yet another thing she’d learned how to do), but you were doing your best to keep your eyes open.
it was the rattling of the doorknob that had you and ella perking up and looking towards the doorway. you could hear fumbling and what you assumed was mat’s hockey bag dropping to the ground.
despite that, it was still a moment or two before you saw mat walk into the living room with a....iced latte in hand?
you furrowed your brows. “what—”
“dada!” ella screamed, flapping her arm that wasn't holding her hippo, doing her best to scramble to her feet without letting go of her stuffie.
mat nearly dropped everything in his hands, including the coffee, which you were still hung up on, because he drank black coffee, not whatever light colored drink that was in his left hand.
“did she—?” he looked to you, hazel eyes wide as the sun. “did she say—”
“dada dada dada dada,” ella kept babbling, her voice only getting happier the closer he came to her.
“hey sweet girl,” he cooed, bending down and scooping her up with one arm. his voice sounded thick, and when you glanced at his face, his eyes looked a little shiny. “i missed you. did you keep mama bear up all night?”
“how did you know—”
“you replied to my text at 2am. you're usually asleep before midnight.” he said it so casually that you almost didn't clock the deeper meaning behind his words. he didn't even look at you, his gaze solely focused on his daughter. “how long has she been saying dada?” he asked.
you smiled. “yesterday, i got it on video. she likes to watch interviews of you sometimes and when i turned an older one on, she said it. i meant to send it to you after it happened, but i figured you'd wanna hear it in person, and if she didn't say it when you walked in, i’d show you the video later.”
“this was much better, thank you,” he said, finally looking you in the eye. then, like a lightbulb went off over his head, he reached his hand out with the iced coffee. “this is for you, figured you'd want coffee after staying up all night.”
you thanked him and hesitantly, took a sip. pleasantly surprised was a phrase you weren't used to using, especially when it came to your coffee order. there were seldom people in your life who could remember how much sugar, cream, and syrup that you liked in your coffee.
jason never remembered, said it was too complicated.
so when you took a sip and it was the exact flavor profile you'd grown accustomed to, you almost started crying.
“did i get it right?” he asked. “i wrote it down in my phone from a month ago just in case. if it’s wrong, ella and i can go grab another one—”
but your smile cut off any rambling left. “it’s perfect. how was your roadie?”
day ninety-two
mat was gracious enough to lend you his car for the day. he didn't have a game, just a morning skate which meant you didn't have to uber to storytime at the library.
it did mean, however, that you had to go pick him up because tito was busy after practice.
you were anxious initially because you had no idea how you'd get into the practice facility, and you weren’t keen on keeping the car running in this economy. thankfully, right as you were walking towards the building, dobson was walking out. he smiled and said a quiet good morning while he held the door for you and ella.
“barzy’s still on the ice,” he said. “should be finishing up any minute.”
“still? is it a punishment?”
dobson shrugged. “i think he's just trying to tighten up his shot.” he cleared his throat. “do you know how to get to the rink?”
you shrugged. “i'm sure i can figure it out.”
which you did, it was pretty self explanatory, though the signage definitely helped. you walked out to the rink and couldn't help the smile on your face when you saw mat zooming around at a ridiculous speed. mesmerized was the only word you could think to use to describe both you and ella. both your heads followed him around the rink.
which meant you had the perfect view of mat absolutely eating it and slamming into the boards behind the goal.
the laugh that burst from your mouth caught you off guard. given how mat flinched, you would say it caught him off guard too.
but you couldn't help it, the sight of him flailing and slamming into the boards had tears forming in your eyes from the sheer force of your laughter.
“oh my god,” you huffed out between laughs. “you're a professional!” you didn't need to say anymore, he knew what you were implying.
mat stuttered out your name. “y—you’re here?”
“i told you i’d pick you up, mat,” you got out through giggles. you walked closer to the ice, stopping at the gate. he hadn't gotten up off the ice, his legs were spread as he sat there. you couldn't place why, but it was still insanely funny to you. as you kept laughing, ella started too, letting out a loud baby cackle that echoed across the ice.
that seemed to kick mat into gear because he stood up and skated towards the two of you, a dopey smile on his face. you moved ella off your hip and in front of your body, holding her back against your chest so she could fully face mat.
“hey ella bean,” he smiled. he tossed his stick over the boards by the bench and reached for her.
“dada dada dada—” as she kept giggling and babbling, you watched as the smile on mat’s face got wider and wider.
you felt your heart lurch into your throat as mat took her out on the ice and started skating. “are you sure that’s safe?” you called out.
mat’s scoff echoed throughout the rink. “i’m a professional.”
“a professional at ending up on your ass.”
while supporting ella with one arm, mat flipped you off with the other hand as he skated around at a moderate pace. something between a scoff and a laugh burst from your mouth like the fireworks in that one katy perry music video.
mat’s head snapped to look at you, an expression on his face that you couldn't place, you'd never seen it before. he skated back to you, with ella still giggling.
“what?” you asked. “why're you looking at me like that?”
he shrugged. “i just like your laugh, is all. you should do it more.”
feeling shy, you looked down at your nails, you really needed to get a manicure done. “haven’t had much to laugh about lately.” the anxiety you had earlier didn't miraculously disappear after your conversation with beau, but up until this moment, you hadn't realized how quiet your mind had been.
a few weeks ago, it was consumed with jason’s words.
now you couldn't stop thinking about mat.
“well, i’ll gladly bust my ass over and over if you keep laughing like that.”
you couldn't help yourself, another laugh forced its way out of your mouth as you looked at him.
day one hundred and one
deep down in your bones, you could feel the exhaustion from yesterday seeping into today. it was a good exhaustion, though. one caused by brunch with grace, sydney, and alexa, a playdate with sofia and romanov’s daughter, deep cleaning the apartment while ella napped, and a nice walk in the park before mat’s game.
he got home last night after a short roadie. it was a successful trip, with them winning more than they lost. you knew ella would be happy to see him when he woke up, all she talked about was “dada,” though that just might be the excitement of saying her favorite and only word.
for now, though, it was just you and ella sitting at the kitchen table eating breakfast. well, you were eating your cereal, she was spreading avocado around on her high chair. still, she was eating her scrambled eggs, so you couldn't really complain.
the two of you had moved into the living room with ella playing with her hippo and building blocks while you watched the newest episode of abbott elementary.
“is this a new one?” you jumped at the sound of mat’s morning voice and ignored the sensation in your stomach when you saw him rubbing at his eyes, bed head and all.
“huh?”
mat opened his mouth, but at the sound of her father’s voice, ella turned around and screamed before crawling towards him. he didn't even hesitate to scoop her up and keep her cradled between his left arm and his chest.
“i said,” he started. “is this a new episode? i haven't seen this one yet.”
you blinked. “aren't they all new episodes to you?”
“what do you mean?”
did he hit his head or something? “mat, i've never seen you watch a single episode of anything that wasn't hockey highlights or espn...”
he shrugged. “that's because you're not with me on my roadies.”
it was your turn to ask, “what do you mean?”
mat rounded the couch and plopped down next to you, close enough to not be awkwardly apart but far enough that his leg wasn't touching yours, regardless of how much you wanted him to. “i started watching abbott on the road.”
“why would you do that?”
the tips of his ears turned pink. maybe it was warm in the apartment because the idea that you could cause him to blush wasn't something you were able to comprehend at eight in the morning. “you said you loved the show, i wanted to see what the hype was about.”
“you watched it because i told you about it?” it didn't make sense, no one had ever taken your recommendations seriously enough.
he wouldn't make eye contact with you. “beau kept falling asleep and i was tired of watching film and it popped up and you thought it was good so...”
you smiled to ease the anxiety on his face. “how far did you get?”
“i’m all caught up, except for this episode. i caught up on the roadie.”
“well,” you started. “you’re more than welcome to join us. if you want breakfast, i can pause it and wait.” but you remembered he was a professional hockey player, he probably had somewhere to be. “oh wait, when do you have to be at the rink?”
he checked his phone. “it’s not for a few hours because we got in so late. i’m yours in the meantime.”
you quickly turned your attention back to the screen so he couldn't see the flush on your face.
day one hundred and nine
it was a bad brain day. you couldn't explain it. you woke up and your mood soured. ella only marginally improved it, not even her giggles and smiles, as she stood in her crib babbling as you walked towards her, could fully fix your mood.
there was no rhyme or reason for it either.
well—
that wasn’t completely true.
you'd slept like shit last night. no twenty something should still be having nightmares, god you felt embarrassed just saying the word. but your brain didn't care about shoulds, shouldn’ts, and age because you woke up pouring sweat after jason berated you for what felt like hours.
he’ll get bored of you ringing in your head like church bells on sunday.
it was made worse when, to soothe the anxiety creeping in, you stupidly got on instagram. you should've known better, never in the history of the internet has going on social media improved your mood, especially instagram.
but there you were, staring at the instagram stories of the wags of the isles. pilates, jogs, dinner parties, team events you were too shy to go to. then you went to their feeds, wag jackets and happy families and all the things you wouldn't be a part of. they were rich, had a cool job, a happy nuclear family. and you were what? a nanny? you were a scandal waiting to happen.
he’ll get bored of you turned into it’s just a matter of time until mat finds a replacement. then, because your mind absolutely hated you, it would seem, mat’s own words echoed back to you.
and you knew it was out of context, he’d proven it to you over the last few weeks. but all you could hear was:
i’ll need some time to find someone else.
natalie was jason’s someone else.
who would mat’s be?
which was how you ended up crying into the pan of scrambled eggs. “sorry ella bean,” you managed to get out. “these will be mine, i’ll make you some fresh ones.” you plated the eggs and turned to set them aside on the island behind you, but you weren't expecting mat to be standing there in a white t-shirt and sweats.
no one should look that good in pajamas.
he’ll get bored of you.
“you okay?” and before you could even reply, mat was moving closer. “are you crying? what happened?”
you shook your head. “nothing.”
“it’s not nothing if you're crying into breakfast food.” he was right in front of you now. “c'mon, mama, you can talk to me.”
and you weren't sure why that one word did you in. “that’s not my name,” you huffed out.
“huh?” mat stepped closer and placed his large hands on your arms. “what’re you talking about—”
you stepped back into the counter, trying to get out of his hold. “‘mama’ isn’t my name. i’m not ella’s mom. i’m no one’s mom.”
his brows pulled together, his lips turned down into a frown. “i wasn’t asking you to be her mom, if you want me to find—”
“someone else, right?” you said. “you're just waiting to find someone else? everyone always is.” and it just burst from you. like it had been bubbling for twenty something years and this was the release. “i'm never enough for anyone. was i just a placeholder until she got a real mom? i can be a nanny but nothing more, right?”
“whoa, where is this coming from?” mat cut in, immediately breaking up whatever tirade you were going on. “who’s telling you these things?”
you wanted to scream. “you are! you told me you'd find someone else—”
“—if you didn't want to do this anymore! you weren't talking to me, and didn't seem very interested in doing this,” he gestured to himself and ella, “—at all.” he sighed, like he was calming himself. “i thought we were doing better these last few weeks. what changed?”
you shook your head. “just had a bad night.”
“please,” he begged. “please just tell me the truth.” another moment passed and you didn't say a word, you wouldn't even look at him. “was it jason?” you shifted on your feet. “what did he say?”
for a moment, you thought about shrugging it off, changing the subject. but you were so tired of bottling up all the negative thoughts, the buzzing bees in your head, you just let it all out. “he said you'd get bored of me,” you admitted, feeling a little embarrassed that you were so upset about it. “that i was just a nanny and once you realized you couldn't fuck me, you'd fire me and kick me out.”
you looked up just in time to see mat’s jaw clench. he opened his mouth to say something but shut it just as quickly. ella squawked from her seat so you quickly grabbed her out of her high chair and started bouncing her. she was probably hungry, but she seemed content just being in your arms.
“you know that's not true, right?” he said after a moment, his voice tight.
“i know i should believe you but the buzzing bees in my head, they...” you didn't finish.
“they what?”
“i’m not like them, mat. i don't have what they have.”
“who? you're not like who?”
“the other wags. you're gonna want someone who goes to games and has a car and can function in life without overthinking every little thing and...”
he was shaking his head, his hazel eyes searching yours, like he was looking for the words to say, but couldn't find them. “who told you that's what i want?”
“everyone wants that, mat. i’m just—” ella started leaning and reaching for the eggs you cried into so you moved them out of reach.
after a moment of quiet, of ella just contentedly bouncing in your arms, mat spoke. “i didn't watch abbott elementary just because you said it was good, i watched it because i wanted you to talk to me,” he said, not looking away from your face once. “i wanted us to be us again and if watching a show i wasn’t familiar with meant i could talk to you, i would do it.”
his eyes darted away for a moment, a blush covering his face. but he pushed on anyway. “it turned out to be a really funny show so it wasn't like a burden or anything but i would’ve watched it even if it was garbage because it was something that you liked.”
“mat—”
“no, please let me finish.” he took in a deep breath and looked you dead in the eye. “i would've watched the scott’s tots episode of the office on repeat if you told me that's what you wanted to do.”
mat took a step closer to you, just a foot between you now. “beau said you didn’t believe that i could want you, sydney said it was because of something your piece of shit ex said. so i’ve spent the last few weeks trying to prove to you that i love you, that i love you right now, just like this. even with the million buzzing bees in your head telling you i can’t, i’m telling you i can and i do.”
the buzzing in your head stopped. you couldn't hear anything but—
i love you right now, just like this.
“there is no ‘someone else.’ there’s no one else i could want because you're here.”
“you're not gonna get bored of me?” you asked, kinda hating how weak your voice sounded, but not enough to be embarrassed about it. not when mat was standing so close to you, not when he was saying the things he was saying.
he smiled and shook his head. “i'm not gonna get bored of you.”
“even if i feel like a thursday in october?”
he blinked. “i don't know what that means, but yeah. even if you feel like a thursday in october.”
there was a part of you who wanted to believe him, who wanted to kiss him, but you still hesitated.
you hesitated until you thought about how mat called you every night on his first roadie away from ella, how he admitted that he missed her and kept waking up in the middle of the night expecting her to be down the hall, but how he felt safe knowing that she was with you. you thought about how he waited for you to call when you got into your apartment and immediately helped you move out when you found jason and natalie in bed together. you thought about how his family loved you, gave you christmas presents. you thought about the kiss, you thought about how he called matt when you left the apartment, how he asked if you had a jacket, how you were getting to the airport.
you hesitated until you realized he stole all the oxygen from your lungs. how you knew nothing about hockey prior to him and now it felt like your entire life. you thought about the family skate he'd invited you to in a month and how you dreamt of holding his hand in front of everyone. you thought about how nice it would be to wear his name on your back and know that he was yours at the end of the night.
you hesitated until you knew all the girls from his past, all the boys from yours, had led you both to this moment, standing in his kitchen in your pajamas with his child in your arms while he bared his heart to you.
“you promise just as i am right now?”
he nodded. “i promise, baby, i love you yesterday, right now, and tomorrow.”
you smiled, your heart racing, but your mind was quiet, quiet except for four words. “i love you, mat.”
“oh thank god,” he muttered before placing his hands on your cheeks and pulling your lips to his. he kissed you first, but you chased his lips when he tried to pull away.
it was only the need for air and ella’s screaming that pulled you two away from each other. “are you hungry, baby?” you asked.
“did mama not feed you fast enough?” mat teased, grabbing her from you and tossing her in the air a few times to get her laughing.
“mat,” you groaned.
“it’s okay though,” he said looking you dead in the eye, the widest smile you'd seen on his face. ella looked at you too, both of their faces scrunched up in that way you loved. “we love you anyway.”
mat barzal. nearly everyone in new york was obsessed with him, you knew him by the way he kissed you in the morning, when he got home from practice, before you went to bed. you knew him as the man who scooped his daughter up and tickled her just to hear her laugh. you knew him by the strong arms that would wrap around your waist.
you knew him by the way he loved you.
one hundred and nine days later, you loved him.
#tatgylb#mat barzal#mathew barzal#mat barzal blurb#mat barzal x reader#mathew barzal imagine#mathew barzal x reader#nhl imagines#nhl blurb#nhl imagine
452 notes
·
View notes
Text
🌿 I LOVE YOU SO MATCHA! — gojo satoru sfw!
prologue. → green was the color of life, and gojo satoru, in all his contradictions, carried life in the way he loved recklessly, laughed shamelessly, and held you like the universe began and ended with you. 🌿 🤍 part of the cookbook (@antizenin)
pairing. gojo satoru x afab!reader
but green is the colour of earth. of living things, of life. and of rot. — unknown.
warnings+. sweetness and established relationship, there's angst in this i genuinely couldn't help it, reader wears a dress in a scene, mentions of injury!
word count. 4k! song inspiration. luther — kendrick lamar, sza
a/n. i'm doing the sukuna shibuya bow from making another predictable twist and ending. but i actually rlly loved writing this, this fic is gonna stay with me i fear <3 gif made by me!
mp3. if it was up to me, i wouldn't give these nobodies no sympathy. i'd take away the pain, i'd give you everything
most people think of gojo satoru in shades of blue.
not the soft and wistful kind that paints summer skies, or the quiet ripple of a lake at dawn. no, they think of an unearthly blue. sharp and electrifying, the kind that stings your eyes and lingers even after you look away.
the shocking azure of his cursed technique, like lightning bottled and ready to shatter the earth. or maybe it's the endless stretch of his eyes, the kind of blue that is so bright, you may burn yourself if you look too long.
to everyone else, gojo is blue. bold, and unrelenting and impossible to ignore.
but to you, gojo satoru is green.
it took time for you to notice it. green doesn't always shout or demand attention. it waits quietly in the background, sometimes content to let others take the stage.
but once you saw it, it was everywhere. it bloomed and took over your life.
the café smells like freshly brewed coffee, warm bread, and the faint sweetness of jasmine blooms sitting in a vase by the window. it's a quiet day, the kind that only seems to exist when gojo has finally managed to wrangle some rare time off.
your boyfriend sits across from you, sunglasses pushed up into his hair, grinning like he's thought of something utterly brilliant.
"okay, hear me out," he says, holding up a hand like he's about to make a groundbreaking declaration that will shatter the earth and bring world peace, "you're the oolong one for me."
you pause and scrunch your face, mid-sip in your tea, "please don't."
gojo leans forward, his grin growing wider ever still, "no? how about this? you're simply tea-rrific."
you bury your face in your hands, as an elderly couple looks at the two of you oddly, "you're unbearable."
"tea-rrific. like terrific," gojo laughs, wagging a finger like a professor lecturing his class, "get it? because -"
"oh, i get it," you cut in, shaking your head but still smiling at your entire world of a boyfriend, "i just refuse to reward bad behaviour."
but you should know better than to think you've tampered down on the relentless force that is gojo satoru. he is relentless in all things, especially when he decides to make you laugh. he's launched into an entire string of tea-related puns, each one worse than the last.
chai think you're amazing! we're a matcha made in heaven! leaf me alone, i'm on a roll!
and somehow, somewhere between the chai and matcha, you start to notice the green.
the delicate stems and leaves of the jasmine says slightly as the café door opens and closes, catching your eye. their soft green isn't loud nor is it attention-seeking. just quietly present, a backdrop to the white blooms that adorn their head.
it is the kind of colour you don't realise you've been missing until it's suddenly there.
you glance at the window, and the trees lining the street are the same, their leaves dappling the sunlight as they sway in the breeze. even the café walls, painted in a muted, sage-like shade, seem to glow just a little in the sunlight. a backdrop to gojo's charming antics.
he's still in front of you, his hair gleaming the same dewy shade as the jasmine blossoms. so animated as he explains why leaf me alone was an under appreciated pun.
there's green in him too, you think.
not in the obvious sense for gojo satoru is far too outwardly vivid to be defined by something as soft as the green akin to your matcha. but it's still there, beneath the flash of his grin and the sharpness of his humour. in the way that he leans closer to make sure you're still smiling.
in the way he somehow turns the whole world into a quiet garden on days like this.
"okay," gojo says, leaning back to cross his arms over his crisp white tee, "i'll stop. but admit it, i brewed up some great ones."
you roll your eyes, but the corners of your mouth betray you, "fine. one of them was acceptable."
gojo gasps, clutching his chest like you've delivered a fatal, cleaving wound, "one? one? i give you comedy gold, and the love of my life repays me like this!"
the jasmine leaves quiver again as your knee knocks up, shaking the table, "you're impossible."
gojo smiles softer this time, tipping his head as though you've delivered the greatest compliment in the world, "yeah. but love me so matcha!"
the strongest sorcerer in modern history is cracking himself up again, and you can feel the warmth of the colour green around you. in the leaves, in the dappled light, and the man across from you who somehow makes the world softer, and sweeter. and full of life.
there's a matcha-green hoodie in gojo's closest. it's oversized, cozy and worn just enough at the cuffs to feel like a bit of a secret. something loved so well that it holds pieces of him in the quilted fabric.
it's nothing like the sharp navy and indigo of his uniform that he wears on duty, where every line is a untouchable warning. no, these clothes are the opposite for you. it's familar. it's gojo's off-duty self, the one that the rest of the world doesn't get to see.
gojo only really wears it at home, when he's padding around barefoot with tousled, snowy hair brushing over his forehead as he pretends to tiptoe (and fails spectacularly) to let you sleep in. it's the kind of green that somehow makes the mornings softer, as if the day dances quietly around you too.
it's also the green of the evenings when he drapes himself over the couch in your apartment, long legs dangling over the armrest while he beckons you with a lazy smile.
the fabric is impossibly soft against your cheek as you settle into his broad chest, and his arms loop around you like they were always meant to belong there. it smells like him too, a little like cedar and a little like pine. and you think it might be your favourite place in the world.
one time, you stole it.
you hadn't planned it. you had been cold, and it had been right there. before you knew it, you had been walking around the house in its oversized embrace.
when gojo had caught you for the first, his grin stretched wide, playful and wicked.
"hey, well," gojo had drawled, leaning against a doorframe like a cartoon cat that had finally cornered the mouse, "look who's going through other people's closets."
you tugged the sleeves further over your hands, "it's comfortable. you take my shit all the time."
"it's cute on you," gojo says, sauntering closer and placing his large hands on either side of your face, "but you know...no one looks cuter than me."
you snort and turn your back on him, which only encourages for the six-foot-three man to chase after you. and even though he claimed he needed it back, he didn't get it for a week.
maybe because you refused to give it up, or maybe because every time he saw you in it, he just shook his head, grinning as if he’d been caught in the middle of something he didn’t mind losing.
when gojo invited you back to the family estate, you had braced yourself for grandeur. looming gates, and endless halls. the suffocating weight of tradition.
and yes, the grandeur had been there. but what lingered most in your memory wasn't the vastness or the architecture. it was how beautiful it was.
there were several shrines that lay nestled among the estate, hidden away on plots of land. this one had been worn soft by time, covered in moss and nestled among the larger stones.
spring had woven itself into every corner of the estate, from the blossoms swaying overhead to the long grass brushing against your ankles as you walked.
gojo stood a few steps ahead of you, glancing back as if to make sure that you hadn't disappeared, hadn't been swallowed up by the earth. he was dressed in far more traditional robes for once, navy linen lowing and rippling as he moved.
but there was something endearingly out of place about him here, like a bird perched on the wrong branch.
"spring makes it look nicer than it is," he said, running his fingers over the soft, white edges of his undercut. you can hear the underlying vulnerable note in his seemingly casual voice.
you didn’t reply right away, too caught up in the way the sunlight filtered through the cherry blossoms, scattering dappled green shadows across the worn stone steps. when you reached the base of the shrine, you paused, taking it all in: the moss, the blossoms, the breeze, and him.
"it's beautiful," you said finally, and he gave you a lopsided smile that felt more honest than any grandeur could ever be.
he waited for you at the top of the steps, his gaze steady and warm as the spring air. for a moment, he looked like he belonged here, a part of the ancient garden itself. like a carven statue created by loving hands, forever memorialised as something not quite human. but you knew better.
he didn't like this place — this house that felt more like a museum than a home, this estate heavy with the weight of a family name he wore like armour. since arriving, he’d been quieter than usual, his usual spark dimmed by old memories and expectations, and constantly bowing servants who called him lord and master gojo.
but now, as gojo watched you walk through the long grass, something shifted. his shoulders have relaxed, his hands hung loose at his sides. and then, so softly you almost missed it, he says, "i want to marry you."
you froze, the words catching in the breeze between you.
he wasn’t looking at the shrine anymore, or the blossoms, or the sky. gojo satoru was looking at you, his blue eyes calm and unwavering, like he’d found his answer in the very place he’d been avoiding.
"i know it's not much right now," he added, his voice low and rough around the edges, as though he wasn’t used to baring this part of himself, "and i don't care what the elders say. but you're the only person i want."
at the edge of the jujutsu high campus, there's a vending machine of incredible drinks. its green paint had faded, and chipped from the years of stubborn sun and countless coins clinking into its slot.
it hums faintly, blending into the scenery like a reliable friend that carried you through your own years of high school.
somehow, it's become your spot. not officially, no. there was no grand declaration, no conscious agreement and treaty. but after his classes, he always ends up here.
and so do you.
it starts the same way each time. gojo satoru saunters up to his fiancé with that unmistakable grin, white hair catching the light as if he was trying outshine the sun itself.
you watch as he slides a coin into the slot with theatrical position, with his finger hovering dramatically over the buttons. like he's choosing between life and death, instead of commercial canned drinks.
"one iced matcha," gojo announces in a tone meant for a training arena, and not a quiet campus corner. his hand arcs in an exaggerated flourish as he offers you the drink, "for the love of my life."
you roll your eyes, but the corners of your mouth betray you, "flattery won’t get you anywhere," you reply, accepting the can and cracking it open with practiced ease.
it's a dance you've done a hundred times, but somehow it never gets old. he leans against the vending machine, towering and smug, watching you take a sip like he’s waiting for something.
"don't even think about it, satoru" you warn, holding the can just out of his reach.
but it’s gojo, so of course he thinks about it. he grins wider — how is that possible? and in one fluid motion, he leans in and steals a sip before you can react.
"i will get revenge, always so difficult," you weakly huff, but your fond smile gives you away.
"difficult to resist," he counters, winking like it’s a challenge, "besides," gojo adds, holding the can up to the light as if inspecting its soul, "it tastes better when it’s yours."
you snatch it back, pretending to glare at him, but he’s already leaning closer, his hand brushing yours as he reaches to press another button.
"second round?" he asks, as if this isn’t already part of his plan.
the vending machine hums again, green and steady and familiar, as it delivers another drink with a satisfying clunk.
green had grown to be more than just a colour. it had been a thread that stitched its way through your love story. quiet and constant.
so when the day came, when your heart thudded heavier than ever before and your hands shook just slightly as you smoothed down the expensive fabric, it only made sense that the colour of vitality and new beginnings was everywhere.
the first ceremony itself had been steeped in tradition, from the elegant folds of your formal robes to the rhythmic chants that seemed to echo on in your head. you were grateful for its beauty, but it was the dinner afterwards that felt like yours truly.
the reception was tucked away in a corner of the sprawling grounds, where the tables were adorned with white lilies so luminous they seemed to carry their own light. they sat in vases of muted jade, the colour rich and soft, like the grass after a spring rain. the candles flickered in delicate green holders, casting shadows that waltzed across the tablecloths.
gojo was, of course, the first thing you noticed when you stepped into the space. he wasn’t wearing robes anymore; he’d swapped them for a sleek black suit that fit him perfectly, save for the ever-so-slightly loosened tie (because he couldn't help himself). his hair, as untameable as always, gleamed in the low light.
and then there was you, in a flowing green dress that felt like you’d stepped out of a dream and into his orbit. the soft fabric caught the candlelight, shifting from deep emerald to pale sage as you moved, shimmering. you thought about how this colour, the one that reminded you of leaves and tea and moss-covered shrines — had always meant life to you.
gojo's grin when he saw you was wide enough to rival the moon, and he made a show of adjusting his tie like a movie star spotting their co-star for the first time, with an awfully cliché wink.
"you clean up nice," he said, eyes gleaming with mischief, and then something more love-struck, "my beautiful wife. i must be the luckiest man on earth."
"and you’re just realising this now?" you teased, the soft fabric of your dress whispering as you stepped closer.
dinner wasn’t a grand banquet, but it was perfect — just your closest friends, a table overflowing with warmth, and gojo stealing glances at you as if you’d disappear if he looked away for too long. between bites of food and sips of something sweet, he leaned over to whisper ridiculous commentary in your ear about your guests: how much wine nanami had thrown back, or how shoko had situated herself perfectly near the food.
but then, in quieter moments, he’d reach for your hand beneath the table, his thumb tracing soft, lazy circles on your skin.
the night blurred into laughter and soft music, of digital cameras and drunk speeches. the green hues around you shifting like memories folding into themselves. you caught sight of the lilies swaying gently in the breeze and thought about how gojo had insisted on them when you’d been indecisive.
"white lilies mean devotion," he'd said, smirking like he knew something you didn’t.
"and green?" you'd asked.
"green's for us," he replied, "or for you. i know you like it so much. an' it's cute when you're sentimental."
by the end of the night, gojo's tie was completely undone, and his jacket hung over the back of a chair. he pulled you onto the dance floor despite your protests that your feet hurt, practically yelling in their strapped heels.
"then i'll carry you," he said dramatically, dipping you halfway before breaking into laughter when you yelped.
the two of you swayed there, in the gentle green glow of the reception, his arms wrapped around you and the world falling into place. your husband smelled faintly of the lilies and something warm you couldn’t name. you're sure if you put pen to paper, like a poet of old, you might be able to name that feeling.
"you know," he murmured, his lips brushing against your temple, "i've been to a lot of ceremonies, but this one’s definitely my favourite."
"oh? why's that?" you asked, resting your cheek against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.
"because this time, i got to marry you."
you used to love the colour white. it had been the colour everything pure. everything soft that made you feel safe. the brightness of it had brought a clarity to the world.
it was the colour gojo's unruly hair, glistening in the sun like a crown. you had been so enamoured, watching him run slender fingers through soft strands. to you, white had always been perfect and radiant in all of gojo's unbridled glory.
but the winds of the snow storm must have shifted.
you still remember that day so vividly, as if your mind could never forget it no matter how much you wished it could. the white falling on the streets of shinjuku, covered with layers of freshly fallen snow. pristine and untouched.
but there had been a sickening crack of flesh against pavement, the wet thud that only those who've known death too closely can identify.
you had seen it before you'd even registered the horror of it all. the red, the bright crimson that bled into the snow. staining it, warping it. turning it into something so vile. the ministrations of ryomen sukuna.
gojo's body, cleaven and unmoving. the garnet staining his snow-white hair as it pulled from under his spine. the quiet calm that had settled over his face, as if he had seen something so wondrous in his last moments.
that snow, once so untouched and pure, was suffocated by the iron scent of blood. and at that moment, when you had lost him forever, was the moment you knew that white would never mean purity again.
the colour of white, the colour of christmas eve — no longer held any softness for you. it wasn’t the gentle lightness of his hair; it was the cold, hard truth of loss. it was the memory of blood seeping into that pure snow, the last thing he saw before his life was ripped away.
now, you avoid it. you avoid white whenever you can, as if by doing so, you can erase that moment from your mind. you keep your house warm and cozy, perhaps almost unhealthily so, with shades of warm and soft earth tones, and you dress your daughter in colours that remind you of life, of what was still worth living for. but white? it's a shadow, a reminder. so, you avoid it.
but then, one afternoon, a few months later, your daughter tugs at your hand, small and warm, a soft giggle escaping her as she skips ahead of you. you can’t help but smile at her, at how much of gojo satoru is in her — the way she laughs without hesitation, the way her energy fills up every room, every corner.
you're walking down the street, the air still crisp from the tail-end of winter. it's one of those moments when the world feels ordinary, but in the best way possible. sunlight filtering down between reconstructed buildings, the bustle of the city in the background, your daughter's little chirp bubbling in the space between. you're lost in her, in the joy she brings.
but then, you stop.
you don't mean to. you didn't even notice where your feet were taking you until it happens. your gaze drops to the ground, and there it is.
that spot. the place where it all happened. the very spot where the white had been stained with merlot, the place where gojo's life was stolen from you. the pavement looks the same, the cracks just as they were before, but there's something different now.
a tiny green plant, barely noticeable, growing through the crack in the concrete. the leaves are soft, a rich shade of green that seems to pulse with life. it's small, fragile, but determined, its roots pushing through the cold, unforgiving pavement.
you swallow, the lump in your throat almost choking you.
"satoru..." you whisper to yourself, but your daughter’s voice pulls you from your morbid, breaking thoughts.
"look!"
you glance down, seeing her kneeling beside the plant, her tiny hands reaching out to touch it with wonder in her eyes.
"it's pretty, isn’t it? can i pick it?" she asks, her voice light and innocent.
you nod, tears welling up in your eyes that you refuse to let fall. you hold your breath, trying to steady your heart. it's absurd, you think, how something so small, so simple, could make you feel so much. how something as insignificant as a sprout could make the weight of the world feel just a little bit lighter.
nitrogen, iron and phosphorus are all found in human blood. and hey! they're also needed for plants to grow!
you hear the voice of teenage shoko, kicking her legs back as you tried to finish your homework, right before yaga assigned you another detention. but now the memory comes back to you, sickens you. tears at your heart.
you crouch down beside her, your fingers gently brushing against the plant’s leaves.
"yeah, it's pretty," you whisper, voice barely audible. “best let it rest where it is, yeah?"
you've taken a deep breath and stand up, your daughter tugging you along as she continues on her path, unknowing, innocent. entirely unaware of the memory of her father, lauded as a hero and as a sharp weapon by all those who knew him.
most of those who knew him.
but you glance back at the little plant, the green leaves waving in the soft breeze, and for the first time in months, you don’t feel the crushing weight of grief.
you just feel… a little less lost. and for the first time, the colour green feels like something more than a memory of gojo satoru.
more of a promise for the future, for those who lived on.
#wikicollabs:cookbook#gojo satoru#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x you#gojo fluff#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk fluff#jjk angst#gojo satoru angst#gojo#works#HEYYYY. two fics in one day wtfff
247 notes
·
View notes
Text
under pressure
You were going to kill Richie. Strangle him until he was blue in the face. What sane person would send someone 47 texts while they were at work?
The door to the Bear was locked but you pounded on it until Fak answered it. “(Y/n)! What are you doing here?” He genuinely looked happy to see you.
“Hi Fak. Where the fuck is Richie?” You got straight to the point.
“He’s uh, in the back I think.” Fak knew better than to keep babbling on when you were upset.
You walked across the recently buffed floor to find the tall motherfucker that doesn’t know basic texting etiquette. Once you walked into the kitchen, it was pure chaos. There was shouting (mostly coming from Richie).
“Richie!” You yelled causing everyone to stop in their tracks.
Richie’s eyes widened a little, “Hey-“
You moved towards him and immediately shut him up, “You texted me 47 times! My phone literally froze from all of the texts! What the fuck is wrong with you?!”
“What’s wrong with me?! I was textin’ you because your boy is losing his fuckin’ mind!” Richie shouted back.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
Richie grabbed a piece of paper off the counter, “Look at this shit! He’s changing the menu every fuckin’ day and also has this bullshit list of non-negotiables.”
You grabbed the paper from him (more like snatched it) and quickly glanced over it. It did in fact seem like Carmen was losing his mind.
“This doesn’t give you an excuse to text me like I owe you money or something!” You handed him the paper back (more like threw it) and made your way to the back in search of Carmen. He wasn’t in the office or near the lockers. You opened the back door and he was leaning against the wall.
He looked up when he heard the door opening and was surprised to see you. “Hey, I thought you were comin’ later tonight.”
“That was the plan but Richie is a dick.”
Carmen chuckled and reached out for you. You set your bag on a nearby box and let him pull you closer. He rested his head on your shoulder, “I think I’m fuckin’ this up.”
“And by “this” you mean the restaurant?”
He nodded a little against you, “Everything is fucked.”
“It did seem a little chaotic in there today. Richie said you want to change the menu every day?”
“It’s what the best restaurants do. It’s insane, I know but we have to try.”
“Doesn’t it seem a little insane to try that though?”
“It’ll be worth it. I don’t want to let anyone down. Everyone’s countin’ on me. I want to get Syd a star. I want to help Richie and Fak. Tina. And Marcus-“
You placed your hand on the back of his head soothingly. “I know, Carm.”
“I can’t disappoint everyone. I don’t want to disappoint you.”
“Carm, you make me proud each and every day. What you do in that kitchen is magical. Sure, sometimes a little dramatic,” that made him laugh, “but you’re amazing at what you do. This place, it’ll start off bumpy, it wouldn’t be easy. But once you all settle into your groove, people will be fighting to get into this place.”
Carmen tightened his grip on you and took a deep breath. He lifted his head and looked at you. You could see the anxiety practically written on his face. He was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. You wanted so badly to take the burden off of him.
“I don’t know what I’d do without you.” He mumbled before kissing you softly.
“You’d have to deal with Richie’s crazy ass by yourself.”
Carmen laughed again and rested his forehead against yours, “What a nightmare.” You loved looking into his beautiful blue eyes.
“When Sugar is out on maternity leave, I want to step in to help.”
Carmen was a little surprised about what you said, ���Really? But- but what about your job?”
“I’ve talked to my boss. I’m going to use some vacation time and then reduce my hours so that I can do both.”
“No, (Y/n). I can’t have you spreadin’ yourself so thin. I don’t want you stressed.”
“I’m going to be fine. I want to be here with you and to help the others.”
“(Y/n)-“
“Carmy, I’m not taking no for an answer. Don’t you want me around more? I’ll take some stress off of your plate. I’ll be here late nights with you with no one else around…” you trailed off hoping he’d catch the hint.
He smiled a little bit, “Late nights?”
You nodded, “Yes, late nights.”
“I like the idea of that.”
#carmen berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto imagine#carmen berzatto#carmen berzatto x (y/n)#carmen berzatto x you#the bear x reader#carmy x reader#the bear imagine#carmy berzatto
760 notes
·
View notes
Text
home
pairing: 14th doctor x reader & 10th doctor x reader
rating: E
notes: no gender or age given for reader, just that you last saw the doctor fifteen years ago. thank you to @mcganns for being my beta!!
This too shall pass.
It was a sentiment that you had to cling onto when he left, because fuck knows it was the most painful thing you’d ever felt. And you’d run away from actual explosions before. Big ones, in space! Supernovas which could eat entire planets while you hung onto the side of a little blue box.
And yet none of it even begins to compare to when he fucking left you.
He said it wouldn’t be forever. Well, he shouted it at you as you fell out of the TARDIS. There was a time explosion, and you got rocketed back to your little flat in the middle of Hackney, on Earth only a few days from when he’d picked you up — but in your reality months of adventure had passed.
You’d not really settled back in, certain that he was going to come and rescue you. But then days turned into weeks into months and you finally accepted that the Doctor had abandoned you.
So you went back to it all. Your mundane little existence before a mad, brilliant man had whisked you away. Your boss was a bit miffed that you’d gone AWOL but you were their best employee so they couldn’t afford to let you go, all you got was a slap on the wrist and a command not to let it happen again. The people you loved didn’t really seem to notice your absence that much, which stung; you couldn’t blame them though. You’d probably not miss you much either.
The Doctor. He made you feel special in a way nobody had before. Like you were the centre of a whole, giant, fantastic universe, and he adored you for it.
Still.
No point mulling that over again, is there?
Fifteen years. Things did get better. You moved on eventually. But you still find your thoughts drifting back to him every once in a while, and that fragment of time you spent totally utterly in love with each other. When you think about the way he kissed you, without realising it you end up touching your lips.
No. No. Stop.
The singing of the kettle snaps you back into reality, and you pour yourself a hot cuppa. Ah, tea. The antidote to everything. You go to turn the radio on for some company as you shift into your morning routine when you hear a knock at the door.
Probably the postie. He’s a bit early today, you think, but make no more of it as you undo the latch and open the door.
Your heart stops.
Because there he is, of course.
Older. Weathered. Not the young man you once knew but a grownup version of him, as exhausted by life as you are.
You drop your mug. Quick as a flash the Doctor grabs it out of midair. The tea sloshes onto the floor but at least nothing gets shattered.
He goes to look up at you, but his attention is drawn back to his hand.
“I bought you this mug years ago,” he says, utterly amazed.
You shut the door in his face.
Well, you try to, anyway. But he sticks a foot in between the door and the frame, with one of those stupid Converse he always wears.
“I know you’re angry, I know. But please let me come in.”
It’s such an absurd statement you find yourself laughing, a high and desperate noise.
“Absolutely not!” Actually, no. That’s not enough. “How dare you. Why are you even here?!”
“Because I wanted— I needed to see you.”
You still want to slam the door on him, but there’s a desperation to his voice that gives you pause. And when he looks at you with those sad, puppy-dog eyes? Those eyes as lined with age as you are?
Fuck. You’re so weak.
So that’s how you find the Doctor sitting at your kitchen table with a cup of tea in front of him. You lean against the counter, defences still up, eyeing him from over the top of your mug. He drums his fingers against the tablecloth.
“I like your house. Your calendar is nice, I enjoy the kitten motif.”
“Don’t,” you spit, slamming the mug down and sloshing tea onto the floor, “don’t you dare. You don’t get to waltz back here and start telling me ‘oh, I enjoy your furnishings, haven’t you made a nice little life for yourself since I abandoned you!’ I let you in to speak your piece, though god knows why. Say it and be done.”
The Doctor looks deflated. His shoulders sag, mouth falls. You take a moment to properly look at him. He seems… tired. Tired in a way you never knew him to be when you went on your adventures. Part of you wants to offer comfort, but the other part of you wants to withhold it maliciously. Anything to make him feel the way you felt.
“I looked for you,” is what he settles on, heavily. You didn’t expect that, and it knocks you.
“What?”
“I did. After the explosion, I tried searching all over the galaxy for you. I didn’t know where - when - you’d ended up. I scanned and scanned but something stopped you from appearing on the TARDIS’s sensors. I think… the amount of artron energy emitted during the blast somehow cloaked you.”
You say nothing, your silence an invitation for him to continue his explanation.
“It took years. Literal years, for me. Every spare moment I had, I dedicated to looking for you. Head buried in the circuitry of the TARDIS, trying to fix whatever was hiding you, gave myself a couple of nasty shocks too. And, when I finally tracked you down, I’d regenerated.”
You blink. Right. Yes. He’d explained that, but you’d never seen it with your own eyes. The same person, a different face.
“I didn’t know if you’d want to see me if I didn’t look like me. But I had to try anyway, didn’t I? So I came here. To your house. I got myself all ready for it, knocked on your door… and found that you were married.”
Your fingers grip the counter.
“Oh.”
“He seemed nice. Loved you a lot, as you deserved. And I couldn’t tell you I was back, could I? I saw you pottering around in the kitchen, making the tea - you were always the best at making tea - and you were happy. How could I ask you to leave that all, uproot the life you’d made for yourself, just to jump back in the TARDIS with me? How could I be so cruel? I couldn’t, could I. So I left again. Tried to move on. Like you did.”
You’re crying now. You can feel hot tears slide down your face and soak into your jumper.
“Oh, Doctor,” you manage. You want to tell him so much. It feels like it might burst out of you. But instead you settle on:
“Why now?”
He smiles thinly.
“Because somehow I got this face back, and I wanted to see you. I wanted to be selfish for once.”
You find yourself at the table, on the wonky chair opposite him, sliding your hand over to cover his. It’s rough and warm. Just like you remember. He says your name with reverence, but like it pains him.
“I never stopped loving you. Ever. Through it all, every adventure, I knew it wasn’t complete because you weren’t there. It just wasn’t the same without wonderful, brilliant you,” he admits. He sounds defeated. It breaks your heart — or, actually, it might just put it back together again.
A beat passes. His confession lingers in the air, heavy, thick and choking like smoke from an untameable fire.
“His name was Simon. He was a baker. He was lovely, actually… and we got divorced two years ago.”
The Doctor’s brow furrows.
“You… what… why?”
“Because he knew there was someone else I never really let go of. Someone else who, despite everything, I still loved.”
He looks you in the eyes, and you see something glimmer there that you long since gave up on.
Hope.
And then, suddenly, you’re kissing.
It’s like nothing has changed. His lips are still rough and searching on yours, a hint of tongue giving away into more the deeper you entangle. He sits you up on the table and steps into the space left by your spread legs, and between each kiss he says your name. It’s full of adoration but lined with desperation, too.
Like the kisses he gave you the first night you laid together, on a bed in his spaceship floating across the galaxy. When he buried himself inside you and you felt his two hearts beat in rhythm with your own.
“Doctor…” you manage.
Fuck. You need him. You didn’t realise how badly you needed him. You didn’t realise a piece of your soul has been missing this whole time, fucking torn out of you and leaving a jagged hole in its wake. And him, back, telling you he loves you and always has? You’re patched together like kintsugi.
Your Doctor is the molten gold you need.
“Please. I need to…” he’s so desperate he can barely get the words out, but you nod; he’s undoing the belt buckle of your jeans and pulling them off like they’re silk. When his thin waist meets yours you cross your ankles behind him and lock him into place, and his hands - a little fumbling, a little nervous to be mapping out the plain of you again - begin to trace your chest. You lean into his touch to let him know yes. This is okay. I want this. Make me whole again.
His warm, rough palms slide under the hem of your shirt and lift it easily over your head, the only break in a while you take from your kiss. You let yourself grab his tie to bring him closer. He’s fully dressed still and you’re almost naked; you remember how he used to like that, enjoy feeling a bit more put together than you. Cheeky blighter. Still though, as his suit scratches your skin, you can’t say you don’t agree.
However. In this instance he has far too many clothes.
You tug at his jacket and he knows what you need, letting it fall to the floor with his tie and waistcoat following it. He ruts against you as he unbuttons his shirt a bit, not the whole way, but just enough for you to feel the warmth of his chest. He’s so skinny. You’ve always been a bit worried that, on one of your rougher days, you might snap him in half. You still are now, actually.
Cupping his face in your hands you let your thumbs caress his cheekbones. Your Doctor. Older but the same. Just like you.
You can feel him more than half-hard against your leg. No more time wasting. You need him. You need him, you need him, you need him.
It doesn’t take long to undo his fly and have him in your hand. You’ll always be glad he chose this human anatomy. Though you’d love him no matter how he looks, there’s something wonderful about his cock as it is here. He lets his head fall forward onto your shoulder with a moan if your name.
“Oh… you’re…”
“Mmm hmm,” you agree, a genuine smile passing your face for the first time in god knows how long. He’s just the right length and on the thick side, and you know what a delicious stretch he is when he pushes inside of you. You can’t wait to feel it again. A couple of pumps and he’s ready, dripping precome and a ruddy red. Another time you’d bend down and taste him, remind yourself what a Time Lord’s cock is like. But now today. Well, not now.
You lay back, readjusting yourself so he can push your underwear to the side and find your entrance. A couple of fingers - those long, delicate, clever and cunning fingers - press inside you and test you out. You’re ready for him. He makes a choked noise in the back of his throat as he realises and you laugh, properly, throwing your head back.
“Come on, Doctor. Show me that you’ve missed me.”
He used to never shut up. And now he’s stunned into a desperate silence, lining up with you and pushing in as he does his best to make you feel what he’s been feeling too.
A loneliness is fixed. He slides home inside you and your hips meet, the both of you letting out a long and ragged breath. You sit there for a moment, locked in the most intimate embrace, and just feel each other. You fist your hands in his shirt. He’s here. He’s real. You feel him trace his palm up your back as if you assure himself of the same thing.
Slowly he begins to move. It is a long and lovely drag, his cock hitting all the points you missed being touched, and when he feels you gasp he goes harder. The Doctor nuzzles into the skin of your neck, nestling to the warmth of you there, and you hear him repeat a mantra both of your name and “I love you”.
Over and over. As if the two phrases are inextricably linked.
You’re so full. You’re so light. Everything feels perfect in this moment. And when he reaches between your bodies to touch your sex, push you to the edge, you know you’ll climax for him embarrassingly fast.
When you come you see stars light up behind your eyes. The sky, the unfiltered and untamed sky takes you over. The Doctor says your name one final fine and releases inside you, his hips riding it out as if to savour every second in the sweet grip of you.
He can’t look at your face when he asks you. He says it from the safety of your shoulder where his face is buried, because if you say no you know his heart will shatter.
“Come with me, in the TARDIS again. I know I shouldn’t ask you to leave your home but… you complete me, you know. Always have.”
“Leave my home?! Doctor, don’t be daft. This is just a house in bloody Hackney. You’re my home.”
You pull back to meet his gaze. He’s tired, but bright. His eyes twinkle. And there’s the Doctor you know.
“And of course,” you continue. And, as the smile engulfs his face and he lights up, “it’s not like I’m doing anything else, am I?”
This time, when you go AWOL from your job, you never come back.
#The doctor x reader#Doctor who x reader#the doctor x you#david tennant x reader#10th doctor x reader#tenth doctor x reader#14th doctor x reader#fourteenth doctor x reader#my writing#full disclosure only seen the star beast so far lol
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Adopted ~ Brothers!Sturniolo Triplets
Summary: Your adopted, which doesn't matter to your family, but your brothers fans don't like it.
Warnings: swearing, name calling, hate, adopted!reader, angst, nicknames, fluffy ending
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Being adopted into any family is the most magical thing, especially when you have such loving parents and brothers. When you were adopted by the Sturniolo family, you were six. That was ten years ago now. Everything was amazing and when you were with your family, you forgot you were actually adopted.
Until you got to school.
Everyone at school liked to remind you that you were adopted. Saying how you weren't pretty, you didn't look like your brothers, how you were a fake Sturniolo and didn't deserve to be adopted. Many people were jealous and hateful about it, taking your biggest weakness and using it against you.
And here you were once again. The dreaded school. You only had one more class before you went home, but even in that last class, people were still being rude.
"Hey bitch, heard Nick, Matt and Chris are back in Boston, bet they aren't here to see your ugly adopted ass."
You sighed and ignored it and soon the bell rang. You grabbed your bag, rushing out as more people spoke behind your bag. You put your earphones in and started walking home.
As you walked home, you checked your social media, which was a mistake. Many comments and DMs about you being adopted. You knew some fans could be toxic, but this was taking it too far.
When you arrived home, you didn't realise you were crying or that your brothers were home. You took your earphones out and walked into the kitchen to see the three of them sitting around.
"Hey kid, how was school?" Matt asked.
"Fine." You mumbled, placing your bag down.
"Wait....your crying. What happened?" Nick asked, quickly noticing your tear stained cheeks.
At that moment, looking at three of your older brothers, made you cry harder. Chris being the closest to you, pulled you into his arms, letting you cry.
"Shh, it's okay kid, we're here." He said softly.
When you had calmed down, you all sat in the living room together. You curled up between Matt and Chris, as Nick sat in front of you.
"Talk to us, sweetheart, what's going on." Matt said.
You then told them everything. How you were getting bullied at school for being adopted and it continued online. As you told them, you sniffled through the tears.
"We're proud of you telling us, kid." Nick said.
"Can I have your phone?" Chris asked.
You nodded, passing it to him. You watched as he went through and blocked all the horrible people that left comments or messages.
"Just because your adopted doesn't mean your not a part of this family. We all love you so much and your our sister no matter what. They are just jealous assholes who want to ruin your life. Fuck them and their petty behaviour." Nick said, making you smile.
"Thanks guys." You said, hugging each of them.
"Anytime kid." Matt said.
"If it happens again I'll go beat the shit out of them." Nick offered, making you laugh.
"You'd get arrested." You replied.
"Then you beat the shit out of them." He responded.
"And you'd get in trouble at school." Matt replied.
"Wouldn't be so bad right!" Chris shouted.
Matt shook his head, mumbling about the two being idiots. You laughed and were happy to have your brothers support.
#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo triplets oneshot#sturniolo triplets fanfic#sturniolo triplets x reader#chris sturniolo oneshot#chris sturniolo fanfic#chris sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#nick sturniolo oneshot#nick sturniolo fanfic#nick sturniolo x reader#nick sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#matt sturniolo oneshot#matt sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo fanfic#matt sturniolo#matthew sturniolo#brothers!triplets#brothers!sturniolo triplets#sister!reader#younger sister#adopted#adopted!reader#angst#fluff#hate
300 notes
·
View notes
Text
pierced. pt. 6 | spencer reid.
Spencer needed to stop getting in his own way of what he wanted.
you will find the other parts on my masterlist
cw: kissing, suggestive sentence in there somewhere, mentions of alcohol, angst if you squint, flufffff
a/n: aahhh!!!! (smut in the next part)
“She looked like you.”
You stopped stroking your hand through Spencer’s hair at his confession. He had been sitting with you on your couch for almost an hour, his head lying comfortably on the couch cushions as he faced you. You glanced up at him, your brows knitted together.
“Who did?” you whispered gently, twirling a piece of his hair between your fingers.
“One of the victims… in the case we worked,” he clarified, almost hesitating with his words like he was embarrassed to admit it.
You frowned, “did it… frighten you?”
Spencer shrugged, “I think it made me realise how dangerous my life is. My job is my life and it made me think about all the things that have happened to me and my friends because of this job… Someone was killed in the apartment across from you, and Hotch lost his wife, Y/N. It just… freaks me out a bit.”
You listened to Spencer talk, running a hand through his hair as he admitted to the things that were bothering him. You understood why Spencer was worried, you would be too if you had a job like Spencer’s. He worked to find some of the most dangerous people in the world, you commended him for that.
You took in a breath, “I would be worried too, Spence. And it must bug you even more than you can’t guarantee the safety of the people you love and care about.”
“It does,” Spencer sighed, his hand reaching out to hold yours.
“Are you trying to tell me something, Spencer?” You asked softly, “you don’t want to see me again?-”
“What? No!” Spencer quickly said, standing up from the couch quickly. “I mean… No, I want to see you again. I want to hold your hand whenever I want and-and go on dates, it’s just-” Spencer let out a soft groan as he rubbed his hands down his face.
“You want to keep me safe?” you asked, standing up to pull Spencer’s hands away from his face. Spencer looked at you, almost amazed at how you knew what he wanted to say.
“Yeah,” he replied, holding your hands gently. “I just wish it was simple.”
You sighed, “I know,” you leaned in to wrap your arms around him in a tight hug, “me too.”
“...I can still see you though, right?” He muttered against your hair.
You chuckled softly, pulling away to cup his face, “of course you can, Spence… We can take things slow, keep everything private… I just want you to be happy.”
Spencer beamed at your answer, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “I want you to be happy too.”
Your palms were sweaty as you stood outside Rossi’s house clutching a bottle of wine in one hand while Spencer gently held your other hand. You don’t know why you were nervous, you’d met everyone before. But to be fair, you were slightly tipsy the last time. You spent the afternoon getting ready, styling your hair and doing your makeup nice for the occasion. Spencer came over to pick you up and yes, you may have got distracted against the kitchen counter for a good 30 minutes, but you were finally here.
“Shit, I’m nervous,” you admitted.
“What? Why are you nervous?” Spencer asked, lifting his hand to knock at the door before stopping himself to look at you.
“I don’t know! I was tipsy the last time I met everyone,” you whisper-shouted the last part, making Spencer chuckle softly.
“Well,” he stepped down off the top step, standing in front of you, “you look really beautiful and you shouldn’t feel nervous… Garcia has been very excited to hang out with you again and Rossi and Morgan have been bugging me about bringing you along to one of these for a while now.”
You smiled softly, “really?” “Oh yeah,” Spencer replied, “So for the foreseeable future, you’re kind of obligated to come.”
“Oh really?” You raised a brow. “You plan on keeping me around for the foreseeable future?” you teased.
“I mean, I kind of like you,” he teased back, “and you have a nice rack-”
“Spencer!” you punched his shoulder as he giggled like a child. “So vulgar.”
“You like it,” Spencer grinned, putting a hand around your waist and leaning down to kiss you. You cupped his face gently, letting him pull your body tight against his.
“Oi,” Rossi grumbled. You and Spencer shot away from each other. “No kissing on my porch.”
“Sorry, sir,” You squeaked out, quickly scurrying inside as Spencer followed you like a puppy.
You felt her hug before you saw her, Penelope throwing her arms around you in a tight hug. You chuckled and hugged her back, “I haven’t seen you in forever! I keep telling Reid to bring you along to stuff but he always says you’re busy,” she frowned.
You knew half of that was true, your job was demanding and you had four huge projects you were working on and you were thinking about going back to school. The other half was that Spencer was nervous to over involve you in things, partly because he didn’t want to scare you off and because he wanted to keep your dating life fairly private.
“Yeah, I have been busy, I’m sorry,” you winced.
“Oh, don’t be silly!” Penelope waved you off, “Come on, we’re sitting in here.” Penelope grabbed your hand and started dragging you to the kitchen. Spencer and Rossi followed behind you, Rossi berating Spencer for being late, which Spencer blamed on traffic (liar).
You were met with an outpouring of affectionate greetings as Penelope brought you into the kitchen, which smelled amazing. You placed the bottle of wine down on the counter which JJ and Emily immediately began inspecting.
“Hi, everyone,” you greeted shyly, feeling Spencer’s arm wrap around your waist.
“Hey, lovers,” Morgan grinned cheekily.
“Oooh,” Rossi picked up the bottle of wine you bought, “good taste in reds, I see.”
“I used to be a bartender. I couldn’t afford to have bad recommendations,” you shrugged.
“Mmm, I like you,” Rossi’s eyes narrowed as he pointed at you. You grinned up at Spencer, letting him plant a soft kiss on your temple.
Rossi continued to prepare dinner, blatantly refusing to let anyone help him even though he had about four things, all of which smelled amazing. You sat by Emily, JJ and Penelope, letting them ask you a myriad of questions about you and Spencer.
“How long have you two been together now?” Emily asked, leaning her chin on her fist on the counter.
“Uh, about two months,” you replied, thinking for a moment. “But we’re not like, together-together. Just dating.”
“...He hasn’t asked you to be his girlfriend?” JJ asked.
“No, not yet. I think he wants to take things slow,” you said with a smile. Emily, JJ and Penelope shared a knowing look with each other. “...What?”
“Nothing,” Emily shrugged.
“Oh, come on, don’t leave me hanging like that,” you pouted.
“He just talks about you a lot, sweetie,” Penelope grinned, “‘Y/N told me that already’, ‘Y/N makes my coffee better’, ‘No, I’m meeting with Y/N for lunch’, ‘I have plans, I’m hanging out with Y/N’, it’s all the time.”
“I’ve never seen him so happy,” JJ smiled, staring at you sideways. You glanced over your shoulder at Spencer, who was already looking at you. He lifted his hand, waving at you from across the room where he stood with Morgan, Hotch and Hotch’s son Jack.
“He makes me happy too,” you replied with a grin.
“Awww,” Penelope cooed, wrapping her arms around you, “take care of our boy wonder.”
“Dinner is ready,” Rossi sang. “And you are right, it smells divine.”
You sat next to Spencer at the dining table, feeling his warm hand rest on your knee under the table. You smiled to yourself, resting your hand over his. You enjoyed your meal with everyone, revelling in the compliments over your choice of wine. You watched as Jack showed Spencer his dinosaur figurines at the table, your heart fluttering at the sight of Spencer playing with Hotch’s son like he was a big kid himself.
Once everyone finished dinner, you helped Rossi clean up the table, even after he insisted you sit down and drink some more wine. You ignored his protests and helped him clean up and he made a comment along the lines of, “it’s like arguing with Spencer.”
Spencer ended up helping too, encouraging Rossi to let you and Spencer do the dishes since he cooked all afternoon. Rossi threw his hands up in defeat, sitting back down in his chair and topping off his glass of wine. The two of you stood began cleaning the kitchen and Spencer seemed fussy, like there was something on his mind.
“What’s on your mind?” You asked as you rinsed the clean dishes, soap suds clinging to your forearms. Spencer stopped drying one of the wine glasses, turning to give you his full attention.
“How do you know I’ve got something on my mind?” He asked curiously.
“I feel like I can read you pretty well, Spence,” you retorted.
“You’d be a good profiler,” Spencer said, bumping your shoulder.
“Yeah, no thanks,” you chuckled, hanging him another dish to be dried.
A comfortable silence hung in the air before he spoke again, “...how would you feel if… If I asked you to be my girlfriend?”
You stopped what you were doing to look at him, “...You want me to be your girlfriend?”
“...Yeah, I do,” Spencer muttered softly, “only if you want to be my girlfriend, of course,” he quickly said.
Your heart was in your throat, trying to suppress the smile that wanted to break out across your face. “You mean that?”
“Yeah… I really like you, Y/N. And I know we said we wanted to move slowly but it’s driving me crazy not being able to call you my girlfriend, you know?” He admitted, putting the rag on the counter to grab your hands.
“I really like you too, Spencer.”
“So… will you be my girlfriend?” He asked, eyes narrowing with nervousness.
“I’d love to be your girlfriend, Spencer Reid,” you grinned. Spencer let out a breath of relief, unsure of where to put all the excitement building up in his chest. He had no idea how he landed someone like you. He suddenly planted a kiss on your lips, cupping your face in his warm hands.
“Thank you,” he whispered against your lips.
“Why are you thanking me?” you chuckled.
“For giving me your number,” he admitted, “I would have been too nervous to ask for it myself.”
“What can I say,” you shrugged, “you were just too cute to let go.”
Spencer smiled and planted another kiss to your lips, a deeper kiss that made your heart flutter and your toes curl. Your fists held his shirt, pulling him closer. He pushed you against the counter gently, his hand gripping the side of your neck to tilt your head back, deepening the kiss.
“Oi,” Rossi grumbled, louder than the first time he caught you two, “no kissing in my kitchen.”
a/n: Rossi is me
taglist: @crazycat-ladys-blog @cillsnostalgia @secretly-tumb1r @33-81 @elissanatok @outrunangelss @cultish-corner @666-gothic-bat-666 @evvy96 @littlemarvelstan8 @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @meg-black @dreamsarebig @anuncalledbridge @fioletowelowe @ladylincoln @spencerreidsgf420 @bollzinurmouth @scarlettssub @ipseitydelrey @donttrustlove @mcntsee @ruziazyn @valinherfantasyworld @khxna @maybe-not-this @shardsofmarxx @danadinosaur3 @justsarahbella @ah-blossom @lorelaireid @btskzfav @reidsdoll
#criminal minds#x reader#criminal minds x reader#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fluff#dr reid#cm spencer#derek morgan#jennifer jareau#david rossi#aaron hotchner#emily prentiss#penelope garcia#spencer reid x reader fluff#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid x you#spencer reid fic#criminal minds spencer
966 notes
·
View notes
Text
Photo Finisher
Minors DNI
Summary: You've been asked to participate in a photo shoot for the Vogue World Fashion Show to showcase a friend's clothing line. The model you working with has heard of your reputation and lets you know of his expectations early...
Warnings: Male reader, Pet names, Soft dom Jeno, Big dick Jeno, Daddy Kink, Business relationship, Unprotected sex, Multiple orgasms, Overstimulation, Praise kink, Breeding kink
Wordcount: 2k
Your body was heavy as you lay in bed jet lagged from the flight.
You'd been asked to attend Vogue World in New York to participate in a clothing showcase for a business friend of your company. You didn't really know the client, but your boss expressed how important it was to make them happy. You were to behave and follow any requests given to you by the client.
While you knew how important the case was, you couldn't bring yourself to emerge from the comfort of the covers.
A loud knock hit your door, "Um, Mister y/n? Are you there? I hate to bother you, but we need you to meet the models for some pre-event photos."
You rolled over to look at the clock. 11 am.
Fuck.
You're late.
"I'm coming now," You shouted back as you started pulling clothes out of your suitcase. It didn't really matter what you were going to wear since you were taking the photos and not in them. When you emerged from your room, you were wearing a white button-up with the top three buttons closed, black leather shorts, and knee-high white socks. "Apologies, I overslept," You said softly while rubbing your eyes.
Your manager nodded, "It's alright, y/n. We're running behind, so I need to take you to meet the VIP, there you'll get to know him, take a few photos, and then wait until the staff collect the both of you." He looked you over, "Are you sure you'd like to wear this? It's cold outside."
You nodded, not really listening, "Yes, it's fine. I'll bring a coat. If it's too bad then it's my fault. Let's go."
Your manager took you up two floors in the elevator and led you into a suite. There were staff in the room doing finishing touches on a man who immediately turned to greet you.
He was tall, had dark hair, and wore a black suit that opened to show his shirtless form.
"Hello, I'm Jeno from NCT. I'll be your model today, it's an honor to work with you," He pulled his his suit jacket closed as it slipped open and revealed his muscular torso.
His smile was bright and slightly embarrassed, "I'm sorry, this isn't the kind of clothes I usually wear. And you look amazing too, the stylists worked hard on your outfit."
You looked down at the clothes you'd thrown on. "Thank you, Jeno, let's chat," You sat on his bed as his makeup staff began to clean up and leave.
Jeno nodded and sat in a chair across from you, posing naturally. He was perfect. The way the jacket slid open to show his abs, the single silver chain necklace, and the simplicity of the outfit made it more sexy.
You coughed, trying to focus on your job, "So, Jeno, do you know who I am?"
He nodded, "You're y/n, the famous photographer. You're so good that you can make a rock look like it's something Picasso painted."
You suppressed a prideful smile. "And you're Jeno from NCT, one of the rappers and dancers, right?" You pretended you didn't remember much of the information you'd been given in his file, but it was a long flight with nothing to do. Of course, you'd read it over a few times. "You're the only one in your group selected to be here as a representative– it's a lot of pressure, right?"
He nodded gingerly, "Yes! I'm so anxious about making any mistakes. So I've trying to keep myself balanced."
You looked out the window, natural light pouring out of it then examined Jeno's face. His structure was more beautiful as his natural structure made shadows that accentuated his form more.
"You're lucky, you know that?"
"I am. Because I get to work with you."
"Most people say so much just for a consultation. But we're even going to have a private photo shoot too."
Jeno's posture shifted forward as he sat up, leaning on his hands that used his knees for support.
You bit the inside of your cheek as the smooth clothes moved around his body, every roll and wave of the clothes revealed more for you to enjoy.
"So. I've also heard a secondary function that you serve, to ensure photos are better," Jeno stated. His energy was different now, he was playful like a dog earlier but now Jeno spoke more like a man. "I've heard that you have sex with your clients because their natural beauty is enhanced from orgasms."
You cocked your head to the side, "So you've done thorough research on me. Even about my beliefs about my work."
"I also know that you're rather picky about those you'd have sex with. You're usually only assigned male clients, adults, and those who pay lots of money to ensure they look good."
You nodded, "And?"
"And you can tell if someone is worth the extra work from a glance."
You smiled, "Wow, you're so well-studied."
Jeno stood, letting the jacket hang open for you to look at his body, "Do I pass?" You could see his pants had tightened with a huge bulge that he was putting on display for you.
"Are you ready for me to make you beautiful?" You said softly as you opened your shirt, letting it barely hang on you as you crawled further onto the bed, toward the edge where he was standing.
"I'm willing to do anything for you, gorgeous," Jeno moaned as you put your hand on his crotch. "You've got me so hard already," He gently slid his pants and underwear away to reveal his massive cock. It poked your lips as it twitched, Jeno shook his hips so it would slap your face a few times.
You couldn't restrain yourself, and Jeno could tell from how your legs squished together.
He pushed you onto the bed and he kissed your body and face, leaving a few love bites on your stomach.
"You ready for my cock?" Jeno asked as he dragged a finger down your stomach, tracing the darkened spots he'd made.
"Mmm, please," You moaned as he slid your pants.
Jeno's suit jacket was still on him, and when he slit it off you were allowed to behold his true body. He was designed for a camera, you took mental notes of how his muscles flexed and shone in each movement.
"Tell me what you want," Jeno whispered as he hooked your leg on his shoulder, his dick rubbing against it. Jeno's eyes were dark, and his smile was mischievous, but he was still obedient to you.
"I want you to fuck me, please, Daddy."
"Daddy, I didn't think you were a Daddy's boy," Jeno chuckled as he pulled your shorts off. Your hole was waiting, twitching, and Jeno slipped in a finger experimentally. It slipped in with no resistance, which made Jeno's jaw loosen in arousal, "You prepared yourself?"
You nodded, "Just for you."
"Next time, I want to do it," He kissed your forehead as he pointed his cock toward you.
You nodded breathlessly as Jeno pushed into you, "O-Okay, I'll do that." Your eyes rolled back as Jeno slowly slid into you. His cock felt neverending, it just kept pushing deeper into you as you shook on the bed helplessly. "You're so... deep," You moaned as you felt your hips come into contact with Jeno's.
"You're doing so good, good for Daddy," Jeno complimented as he placed his hand on your stomach. "Look here, baby," He moved your hand to feel his cock bulging you. It was the first time for you, and you could barely keep yourself sane as Jeno's cock throbbed inside you.
"It's so big, too much," You moaned as you tried to move away from Jeno, but he grabbed your arms pulling you back into him.
"No running, that's not allowed. You signed up for me and seduced me like this, so you have to take responsibility."
Jeno started slow and gentle as he started fucking you. Only moving a few inches at a time, keeping you mostly filled. Each thrust was still enough to make you moan like he was going all out with you.
"It's okay if you cum, baby. Don't hold it, it'll be harder for you if you're holding it back." Jeno pulled back and used your arms to pull you into him as he thrust forward, slamming into you, and you came instantly from the impact.
Your body tingled and twitched as Jeno stopped moving, he admired you clinging around him.
"I-I... Can't... More," You tried to beg.
"You want more?"
You shook your head, begging.
"That's not very fair. Getting off and then telling me to stop. I won't continue until you say, but you're going to have to sit right here until then," Jeno rolled his hips to remind you he's inside you still.
"J-Jeno, please," You moaned.
"Hm? Daddy's here, have you calmed down?" Jeno cooed as he kissed your chest, feeling your heartbeat start to slow down.
"More, please."
"As you wish, my prince," Jeno said as he laid onto you, holding you by your shoulders and hugging you tightly, your cum sticking you and Jeno together. He pumped into you, as he watched your expression. Your eyes are wide open and out of focus, moaning like crazy, and even drooling. "You're so cute like this, I wish you could be like this every time we meet," Jeno kissed your neck while he continued.
It felt like an hour, Jeno hit you nonstop. Grunting and groaning with every thrust. "I'm almost there, hang in there, baby," Jeno encouraged.
Jeno's encouragement went on for an extra five minutes, without losing steam.
"P-Please," You begged.
"I'm so close, I mean it. I–" Jeno couldn't finish his sentence as he groaned loudly in your ear as he came inside you, somehow pushing even deeper into you. The sensation made you cum instantly, making more of a mess on Jeno.
You're eyes rolled and your whole body shook as Jeno fucked out his high, pushing into you. You could feel every pump of Jeno's cock, pouring into you, his cum warming your insides.
Jeno, covered in sweat, sat up to look at his work. "We're gonna need to get you cleaned up."
You groaned, "Let's sleep."
"Let's? As in together? I didn't take a businessman like you to be so domestic," Jeno laughed.
"Who are you calling domestic!?" You sat up but the pain made you lay back down. "I can't sit up, you broke me."
Jeno scooped you into his arms, "Then I'll bathe you. I'll dock this service out of your pay."
"Like hell–You want to bathe me."
"So you'd rather lay like this?"
"If it means I don't lose money."
"Money? What about my feelings?"
"Your feelings don't pay."
"They can. Make me happy and I'll leave a personal tip," Jeno winked at you.
"I think you might give more than the tip..." You covered your face, wiping the sweat away as Jeno took you into the bathroom.
Jeno was more than thorough with you. Not only did he help clean the cum out of you, he massaged your insides, back, and neck with firm hands. The massage made you hard again, but Jeno said there was no more time for fun. He even dried you off and helped you back into your clothes.
"You're now so clean, baby," Jeno patted your ass, which made you wince. "Now, let's get to photos." He handed you your camera and directed the shoot himself, coming up with all the perfect angles, lighting, and photos. You just listened to him when he told you to take the photo.
After the photoshoot, Jeno texted his manager to tell them he'd finished. "Are you planning to go to the fashion show?"
You nodded, "I have to go, my boss told me I need to network."
"Then, will you be my plus one?"
"Like walk the red carpet?"
"Maybe."
You sighed, "Just don't slow me down."
"I think I should say that to you," Jeno said as he grabbed your ass, making you moan as you lean into him.
#oracle of dreams#kpop x male reader#kpop x male reader smut#jeno x reader#nct jeno#jeno lee#lee jeno#nct dream smut#nct smut#jeno smut#jeno#x male reader#x reader#x male smut#nct x male reader#x male y/n#nct dream
454 notes
·
View notes
Text
Best Friend — Daisuke x gn! reader
summery: you find Daisuke different job, dodging a bullet that would've taken his life.
tw: mentions of pony express again (ew)
a/n: this was not planned, and I'm not entirely motivated, but there's not many Daisuke fics so I'm kinda left only one option :/
wc: 1.1k
Master List
Part One | Part Two
“How about this one,” You asked, showing your screen to Daisuke. Electrician apprentice read at the top, the requirements listed below. “I know it isn’t the most exciting, but you’d make good money.”
Daisuke eyed it for a few seconds, “It’s basically what I’d be doing for Pony Express.” “Exactly,” You nodded eagerly. “Except you wouldn’t be floating in space, who knows where for…how long was it supposed to be again?”
“Like…a year and some months,” He replied back, expression darkening slightly at the thought.
“Yeah, no way,” You grumbled, reading through the rest of the job listing. “Look, they’re open to no experience, it's perfect!”
“You think they’ll actually hire me?” He asked, brown eyes looking at you anxiously. “I mean I have nothing that makes me stand out.”
“Only one way to find out,” You shrugged, clicking on the apply button. “Besides, are you saying my resume skills suck? I made you look like a 5 star option even with your lack of experience.”
“Isn’t that lying though?” Daisuked questioned, resting his head on your shoulder as you filled the form out for him (he chipped in when you didn’t know something).
“No,” You hummed. “Lots of people don’t have experience, but they gotta put something on their resume.”
As you finished, you glanced down at him, “You wanna go through with this?”
“Yeah,” He nodded with a sigh. “I really don’t wanna go to space.”
“Hmm,” you hummed again, resting your head on top of his as you hit submit. “You should tell your mom before she does anything.”
“Yeah,” He agreed. “I just don’t wanna think about it right now.”
“I know,” You murmured, allowing him to play with your fingers. “But the longer you procrastinate the more likely you’ll become an express worker.”
“You’re so responsible,” Daisuke groans. “How do you do it?”
Letting out a short chuckle, you respond, “Anxiety. And right now I’m anxious I’m gonna have to say goodbye to you, which is why we’re filling out job applications right now.”
“I love you,” He mumbled, nuzzling into your neck.
“I love you too, silly,” You murmured back, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.
…
You were sitting in class when you noticed your phone light up. Daisuke’s smiling face popped up, he was calling you. Glancing up to the professor, they seemed busy enough to not notice you, so you opened your messages, typing a quick message,
What’s up? I’m in class rn
babygirl: YOU’LL NEVER GUESS QHAT HAPPENEF babygirl: oh babygirl: srry, txt u later babygirl: love you 🫶
okay! Love you too you goof <3
It was hard for you to shake the silly grin off your face for the rest of class. Daisuke always managed to make you feel like a lovesick fool, heart fluttering at every little thing he’d do. He had you kicking your feet and twirling your hair. Yeah, you were totally in the honeymoon phase, but you were enjoying every moment of that.
When you got out of class, you went outside to a quiet area on campus. Pulling out your phone, you sat on a bench and quickly hit the call button. You didn’t even get to hear the ring as Daisuke answered right away, cherrily shouting your name.
“What happened?” You asked with a smile. “You seem pretty excited.”
“I got the job!” Daisuke exclaimed, not waiting a second to tell you the good news.
“Whoa! Congrats!” You exclaimed back. “Wait, which one?”
“The factory one where I’d operate a forklift,” He replied, you could hear the smile in his voice. “My mom actually approves too.” “That’s amazing,” You felt super giddy. It felt like you had dodged a major bullet.
“Yeah,” He sighed. “It’s all thanks to you, I wouldn’t even know where to start.”
“Don’t mention it,” You shrugged, glancing up at the pink and yellow sky. Your classes always run later on these days, you couldn’t wait to go home after this call. “You’re my fr- boyfriend, I’ll always have your back.”
“You done for the day?” Daisuke asks absentmindedly.
“Yeah.”
“Come over?”
“Sure.”
…
“Thank you so much for helping Daisuke,” His mother gushed with a stressed smile. “You’re such a good influence for him. I couldn’t ask for a better partner for my son.”
“O-oh, of course,” You stammered, feeling flustered at the compliments. “He means a lot to me, I’m glad I could help.” Nodding at her politely, you walked past, heading towards Daisuke’s room. Knocking on the door, you heard his cheerful voice tell you to come in. Entering, you set your backpack by the door, plopping yourself on his bed.
“How were classes?” Daisuke asks, glancing at you from over his gameboy.
“It was fine,” You shrugged, stretching out to relieve some stress. “Nothing new.”
“Hmm,” He hummed in acknowledgement, beating the level he was on before turning the device off. “Wanna sleep over?”
“Sure,” You nodded, and Daisuke plopped himself on top of you. Ever since you started dating he had become incredibly more touchy, always touching you in some way, whether it be holding pinkies or laying on top of each other like a weighted blanket. You didn’t mind though, it was comforting, and you were a bit clingy too so at least it was mutual. Like clockwork, your hands started to run through his hair causing him to release a pleased sigh.
“Should we watch a movie?” You asked, glancing over to his stack of dvds.
“But you’re so comfy,” Daisuke whined, snuggling further into your chest.
You let out an exaggerated sigh, but made no attempt to move, instead changing the topic, “When do you start your job?”
“In a few weeks,” He mumbled. “ ‘m kinda nervous about starting a serious job, but it's better than the alternative.”
“You’ll do great,” You tried to comfort. “I just know it.”
“I think you're biased,” He grumbles, tilting his head up to make eye contact.
“Maybe just a bit,” You smiled, pinching his cheek lightly. “But I’d be a shitty partner if I didn’t encourage you.” Daisuke watched you fondly, he’s not sure what he did to deserve someone like you.
As you both laid in his bed, soaking in the other's presence, everything was alright. Neither of you know just how much of a bullet Daisuke had missed, the ship he was fated to join if he were to work at Pony Express had gone missing. When the news broke, the both of you couldn’t help but be horrified. What if that was the ship he joined? Not to mention the news of Pony Express going bankrupt, if Daisuke went as an intern it wouldn’t have gone far.
Daisuke and his mother were even more grateful that you managed to find him a different job. Even if he didn’t enjoy it, it was better than whatever happened to the ill fated crew of the Tulpar.
#mouthwashing#daisuke mouthwashing#mouthwashing daisuke#x reader#mouthwashing x reader#daisuke mouthwashing x reader#mouthwashing daisuke x reader
259 notes
·
View notes
Text
Don’t Drink- Bucky Barnes x Reader
Summary: Bucky comforts crying reader when Tony goes too far
Word count: 955
TW: discussions of alcoholism, self harm and neglectful family
Most of the night you had been lively, energetic and maybe even a little flirty with a certain brunette super soldier, but when that question came out of Tony’s mouth, in front of every one, you couldn’t help shrink into yourself.
You are by no means a shy person, I mean sometimes you can be closed off but you’re happy to talk to anyone, which is what you had been doing.
The typical Stark party was starting to wind down and you and your friends had found a couch and were happily talking. You sat sipping your lemonade, now Nat was no longer manning the bar, her amazing mocktails were off the menu. You were both listening and talking to your friends, and everything was going great. Until that damn question rung loud across your friends, and cutting you to the core.
“Well why doesn’t y/n drink?” Tony shouted drunkly, causing everyone to stop their conversations and stare between you and he.
The tension in the room suddenly became thick as some of your friends looked at you with worrying looks, and some glaring at Tony. You didn’t blame Tony, and if he’d just accepted the excuse you gave it would have been fine. He didn’t know about your dad or your family, only a few of the team did, but he didn’t have to push.
“I mean come on, it’s a party, we’re all drinking and having a good time, maybe a few drinks might loosen you up a bit. Maybe if you had a drink or two, you might even get lucky,” Tony winked at you.
This got people annoyed.
“Come on, Tony, that’s enough,” Steve said, both he and Rhodey trying to usher him away, while Natasha held your hand and Bucky looked at you with sweet eyes.
“Well why doesn’t she?” He shouted, refusing to leave and demanding an answer like a child.
This confrontation had flooded you with shame and embarrassment, but now as you stared into his stupid drunk eyes, all you felt was rage.
“Maybe because unlike you, I don’t want to turn into an asshole like my dad! Maybe because if I drink I might cut myself like my mum used to! Maybe I don’t drink because I don’t want to turn into a pathetic alcoholic like you or my shitty fucking dad!” You shouted back at the man, your skin hot, chest heaving and tears began to fill your eyes.
All humour had left Tony’s eyes at your confession and he hung his head in shame, while attempting a weak apology. Not wanting to hear it or hear the pity of your friends, you stormed off. It had been a lovely night, but of course, Tony had to ruin it.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Natasha growled at Tony as your friends watched you storm away.
As Maria and Yelena came over to calm Nat, Bucky made his way for the door you left from.
It didn’t take long for him to find you, following the aching sounds of your crying. The sound of your upset hurt him, but as he saw you sitting on the corridor floor, his heart absolutely shattered.
“Oh, doll,” Bucky gently sighed as he bent down to be face to face with you.
Raising your head from your hands revealed a makeup stained face and blood shot eyes, the sight destroying Bucky even further.
Not wanting any pity from anyone, you tried to stand to leave, but Bucky was faster. He sat down on the floor and dragged you into his lap, holding you so you couldn’t leave and be alone with this feeling.
“I’m here, it’s okay,” he whispered sweetly against your hair, kissing your forehead as he gently rocked you in his arms.
With one hand on your thigh and the other around your arm, he held and rocked you until your heavy cries became light sniffles. Raising your head, you looked into his sweet blue eyes.
“I’m sorry, James, I-I shouldn’t have made such a scene like that,” you quietly apologised with a shaky and rough voice. You looked down to your lap in shame as you pull away from his chest.
The fact you thought you had to apologise for this cut Bucky to his very core, realising what not just HYDRA but your parents must have done to make you feel like such a burden.
“You have nothing to apologise for, sweetheart,” he gently comforted as he tucked pieces of hair behind your ear and he wiped some of the makeup from your face.
“Tony is a dick, and shouldn’t have pushed you like that. I’m honestly glad you told him off, and crying is nothing to be ashamed of,” he continued to comfort.
Holding your cheek in his hand, he stared lovingly into your eyes as he slowly leaned down. Your lips met in a gentle and sweet kiss, one full of comfort, but not pity, full of love and honest feelings.
As the sweet kiss parted, you couldn’t help the light smile that graced your lips.
“There’s my girl,” Bucky whispered sweetly to you.
“Your girl?” You asked hopefully, your smile widen and light returning to your eyes.
“My girl,” Bucky confirmed, “my girl who never has to apologise for her feelings and who I will hold and listen to whenever she needs.”
“Your girl, my James,” you smiled up at him, your hands now resting on his chest.
Hearing you say that you were his and he was yours, filled Buckys heart with so much love, he thought he might explode. A large toothy smile graced his gorgeous face, as he pressed you against his strong chest in a sweet embrace.
#Bucky#bucky imagine#bucky x reader#bucky Barnes#bucky Barnes imagine#bucky Barnes x reader#marvel#marvel imagine#MCU#MCU imagine
197 notes
·
View notes
Text
wrong number
bayern munich frauen x lena oberdorf x reader
1/6, 2/6, 3/6, 4/6, 5/6, 6/6
summary: you're the honorary bayern munich teammate.
the excitement fills your veins as you land in lisbon.
you’re finally here, and it’s hard to believe. lena doesn't even know yet—you wanted to surprise her, to be there in person for the match of her life. it’s been a long journey from buying the ticket, keeping it quiet, and making your way to portugal, but every step felt worth it because nothing, absolutely nothing, would have kept you from being here to support lena in the champions league final.
hours later, you’re waiting anxiously in your hotel room when a knock finally comes. you open the door to find lena, looking tired but smiling, and her face lights up as she sees you.
"you made it," she says, stepping forward to hug you tightly. she lets out a deep breath, and you feel some of the tension melt from her shoulders.
"of course i did," you say, hugging her back, brushing a hand over her back.
"how could i miss this? tomorrow’s the match of your life. are you nervous?"
she pulls back slightly, her smile fading as she flops onto the bed beside you.
"yeah… a little," she admits, looking away.
"it’s more than that, though. i keep thinking about the final in 2023… it’s like this shadow hanging over everything. it won’t go away." her voice goes quieter, and you see just how much she’s carrying from that day that you’re unfamiliar with.
you sit beside her, reaching out to take her hand.
"do you want to talk about it? what happened in 2023?"
she nods, her gaze fixed on a spot across the room.
"it was against barcelona, with wolfsburg. we were up 2-0, and then everything just… fell apart. they scored three goals in, like, eight minutes. i felt so helpless. all those months of training, just to lose like that. sometimes it feels like i haven’t shaken it off."
you squeeze her hand gently.
"i can’t imagine how tough that must’ve been. losing on that stage, with everyone watching… it’s okay that it still hurts. a lot of people would feel the same. i also know that you’re stronger now."
she looks over at you, a small smile finally breaking through before giving you a light kiss.
"thanks. i don’t know… i’ve tried to push it out of my head, but tomorrow feels like a chance to finally put it behind me. i want to prove to myself that i’m not that same person who let it slip away." she whispers against you.
you run your thumb across her knuckles, trying to pour all your reassurance into that small touch.
"and you’re not. you’re here, stronger and smarter, and you’ve learned so much. but whatever happens tomorrow, you’re still amazing. i’m just so proud of you."
a soft blush colors her cheeks as she squeezes your hand back, her gaze meeting yours as her forehead rests against yours.
"thank you. it really helps, having you here. more than you know."
after a while, she heads back to her hotel room for a good night's sleep, leaving you with a warm, happy feeling that stays with you until morning.
it’s surreal, thinking back to a year ago when this whole thing started with a wrong number. now you’re here, in lisbon, to watch the woman you love play in one of the biggest games of her life.
the next day, you find yasmeen at the stadium entrance, her face lighting up when she spots you. she flew in from america just to keep you company, and you feel a rush of gratitude as you hug her.
"ready for the match of your life?" she grins, eyes sparkling.
"more ready than i’ve ever been," you laugh, feeling your own excitement build up. you’re both practically vibrating as you take your seats, and when the game kicks off, it’s all you can focus on.
seeing lena on the bench doesn’t dim your excitement—she’ll get her moment, and you know it.
the game starts off tense. city’s vivianne scores in the 20th minute, and the bayern fans around you groan. you try to keep your spirits up, leaning forward and clapping.
"come on, girls!" you shout in german, even though your voice is quickly swallowed by the roar of the crowd.
yasmeen chuckles beside you, giving you a supportive pat.
"you’re so into it already."
you grin.
"it’s impossible not to be. they’re incredible."
just before halftime, bayern’s perseverance pays off. in the 45th minute, klara sets up a perfect cross, and pernille rises up to head it in, tying the score.
you leap out of your seat, clapping wildly as yasmeen cheers beside you.
"yes! let’s go, harder!" you yell, grinning from ear to ear.
at halftime, a fan behind you taps your shoulder and asks for a photo. she’s wearing a lena jersey, and you assume she just wants a picture with "lena’s girlfriend."
you’re hesitant but smile and take the photo with her. when yasmeen teases you, you roll your eyes and laugh it off, though you can’t deny you’re a little flattered.
"look at you, getting famous," yasmeen nudges you.
"you’re practically the team’s mascot at this point."
"shut up," you laugh, feeling your cheeks warm.
"all i am is lena’s slightly anxious but very supportive girlfriend."
the second half starts off rough. city’s bunny shaw scores twice in under nine minutes, and the atmosphere in the bayern section gets tense. you bite your lip, glancing at yasmeen for reassurance as the clock ticks on.
bayern doesn’t let up. lea schüller scores in the 55th minute just one minute after shaw scored city’s third goal, and it feels like a breath of fresh air.
one more goal, and they’ll be even again. you clap, your hands sore but determined, and yell encouragement, hoping somehow the team can hear you all the way on the bench.
then, in the 68th minute, pernille gets her second goal, equalizing. the stadium erupts, and you jump out of your seat, pulling yasmeen into a hug.
this match has you on the edge of your seat, your heart racing with every pass, every tackle.
a commotion catches your attention near the right side of the pitch, and you see sydney in a heated exchange with alex greenwood. sydney is keeping the ball away from greenwood as the ref tries to intervene. you can’t help but chuckle as yasmeen leans over.
"what’s going on with them?"
"just sydney being sydney," you say, grinning.
"kidding. i’m not sure, maybe sydney just wants to give her team a breather.”
minutes later, in the 79th minute, lena stands at the sideline, preparing to sub in. your heart skips a beat as you slip off your light blue button-up longsleeve to reveal your oberdorf jersey underneath. yasmeen catches sight of it and snickers.
"i wonder if she’ll get a yellow card within the first five minutes."
"probably," you mutter with the pride in your voice. you’re just thrilled to see her out there, part of the game she’s worked so hard to return to.
she’s barely on the pitch when, in the 81st minute, she makes a classic side tackle on mary fowler, and you and yasmeen exchange a look.
lena gets a warning, but she’s unfazed, her focus sharp.
the clock’s ticking, and tension fills the air. then, in the 88th minute, lena sets up an assist to sydney, who powers the ball into the net, bringing the score to 3-3.
you jump up, screaming as loud as you can, caught up in the joy of the moment.
at this point, your mind starts to wander, reflecting on how far you’ve come. a year ago, you were just a student in virginia, living a quiet life. now, you’re in lisbon, watching the woman you love play in a champions league final, surrounded by friends and fans. it feels surreal.
yasmeen nudges you, drawing you back to the game.
"imagine if lena scores the winning goal."
"i hope," you murmur, watching her with bated breath as she passes the ball to tuva, who then lightly passes it to ana.
ana crosses up to klara, who leaps up for a perfect header. the ball sails into the net, and the stadium explodes in cheers. the scoreboard lights up,
4-3.
klara runs to the corner, celebrating, and you watch in awe as the team surrounds her. then she turns and sends a heart your way, her hands forming the shape in the air. you send one back, beaming as yasmeen chuckles beside you.
the final whistle blows, and it’s like the whole stadium erupts at once. the scoreboard is locked at 4-3, with bayern’s victory glowing bright, but it’s hard to believe until you see the girls flood the pitch, their faces breaking into elated, disbelieving smiles.
yasmeen nudges you, and you turn to see her beaming.
“they really did it,” she says, a little in awe herself.
“and they really love you, huh?” you laugh, heart swelling as you watch the team embrace, overcome by what they've achieved.
“guess i just got lucky,” you murmur, and you mean it.
after the immediate celebration dies down a bit, the trophy ceremony begins, the crowd cheering louder as each player receives their medal, eyes glistening with the weight of the win. confetti rains down, golden and shimmering in the stadium lights, and you feel a lump in your throat. they’ve worked so hard for this.
suddenly, you hear a voice calling your name. you turn to see sydney and tuva waving, beckoning you over. before you can process it, they’re running up, reaching over the barricade to pull you across it.
“you’re coming with us,” sydney insists, her grip firm, and tuva laughs, nodding in agreement. they drag you toward the heart of the celebration, and you glance back at yasmeen, who waves you off with a smile.
“go have fun!” she calls, and you smile back gratefully.
you barely have a second to catch your breath before you spot lena jogging toward you, her face flushed with happiness, eyes bright under the stadium lights. she wraps you in her arms, lifting you slightly, and you cling to her, laughing as she swings you back and forth.
“we did it,” she breathes, her voice full of amazement.
“you did it,” you correct, pulling back just enough to look at her. her eyes search yours, and you can see that same mixture of pride and disbelief.
“i still can’t believe it,” she whispers, her hands resting on your shoulders.
“it feels… surreal.”
you smile, brushing a strand of confetti from her hair.
“it’s real. and you deserve every bit of it, obi!”
lena smiles, a little teary-eyed, then leans in and presses a soft kiss to your cheek, lingering there as if she wants to soak up the moment.
“thank you for being here,” she says quietly, and you can hear the depth of her gratitude, her voice soft and genuine.
“i wouldn’t have missed this for anything,” you whisper back, feeling your own emotions rise.
nearby, klara is holding the trophy, posing for pictures, her grin as wide as you’ve ever seen. when she spots you, she waves you over, gesturing for you to come closer. you hesitate, feeling a rush of self-consciousness.
you’re not a player, after all—you didn’t sweat and fight for this trophy like they did.
“come on!” klara calls, laughing at your reluctance.
“get in here!”
you make your way over, feeling a bit out of place, and she hands you the trophy, the massive silver and blue prize weighing heavy in your hands.
the moment feels surreal, and you look at klara, a little overwhelmed.
“are you sure?” you ask, voice soft.
she grins.
“absolutely. you’re part of this team, too, you know.”
lena’s hand slips into the side of your waist as she steps closer, nodding with a warm smile.
“she’s right, you know,” lena says, giving your hand a squeeze.
“you’re like our honorary teammate.”
you smile, heart racing, and glance around at the team gathered around you. it’s a strange feeling—this sense of belonging among these women who have worked and sacrificed so much.
they’re looking at you with genuine affection, the bond you’ve built with them over time stronger than you’d ever realized.
“alright,” you say, laughing, feeling a bit more relaxed as they crowd in around you.
“but only because you all insisted.”
they cheer, pulling you into the picture, arms wrapped around one another, laughing and shouting in excitement as the photographer snaps photo after photo. you can feel the joy radiating from each of them, the weight of this accomplishment shared and celebrated together.
when klara makes a heart with her hands, aiming it at you, your chest tightens with warmth.
yasmeen, watching from the stands, raises her thumbs up and laughs, mouthing “so popular!” and you give her a teasing eye-roll, smiling at her playfully.
finally, as the photos wrap up and the team disperses to greet more of their friends and family, lena pulls you aside to meet her parents, holding you close as you both take in the night.
the lights of the stadium are soft now, the crowd gradually fading, and it’s just you two talking to her family, standing side by side in the quiet after the storm of victory.
“i’m so proud of you,” you say to lena after her family leaves the stadium, voice thick with emotion.
“watching you play, seeing you out there after everything you’ve been through… it’s incredible.”
lena’s eyes soften, her fingers tracing the outline of your hand.
“i couldn’t have done it without you,” she murmurs.
“you’ve been here every step, even when i was sidelined and frustrated. you kept me going.”
you smile, your heart swelling with pride and love.
“that’s what teammates are for, right?”
she laughs softly, her gaze tender.
“then it’s settled,” she says, her smile widening.
“you are officially our honorary bayern teammate.”
the words echo in your mind, wrapping around you like a warm embrace, and you know that this night, this moment, will stay with you forever.
masterlist
authors note: I hope you enjoyed this six parts series :) I started it 10/1 and finished this part last night before a halloween party I had to attend lol
#bayern frauen#woso fanfics#woso community#woso x reader#gerwnt#lena oberdorf#lena oberdorf x reader#lea schuller x reader#lea schüller#georgia stanway#Scottish sam kerr#ana maria guzman#pernille harder#magdalena eriksson#glodis viggosdottir#giulia gwinn
142 notes
·
View notes