#so okay call it a thought exercise | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

brunchable · 1 month ago

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𝗠𝘆 𝗡𝗲𝗶𝗴𝗵𝗯𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗶𝘀 𝗮 𝗣𝗼𝗿𝗻𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗿 [ 3 ]

Pairings: PornStar!Bucky Barnes x f!Reader Themes: Game of Cat and Mouse. Bucky being stubborn as shit. Summary: Things have turned awkward. You and Bucky hasn't spoken with each other for a few days now. But is the much needed space making things better or worse? A/N: Sorry this took so long lmao. My boy got sick and needed my undivided attention my poor baby but he's better now thank god. A/N: I honestly don't know how to top-up the previous parts but shit, I need them to connect to a deeper level first before jumping into full on smut okay? maybe in the next part. The song sums up the whole fic to be honest lol.

You’d become a master at memorizing Bucky’s schedule, knowing exactly when to leave your apartment to avoid any chance of running into him. But lately, it seemed like Bucky had developed the same strategy, and you couldn’t help but notice the way his presence around the building had become increasingly scarce. It was almost as if he was avoiding you instead.

Today, though, you decided to switch things up by taking the stairs. Sure, it was three flights down, but anything was better than the awkward tension of waiting for the elevator and possibly bumping into him. You clung to the faint hope that the odds would work in your favor, that the stairwell would be empty and uneventful.

But as you descended, the sound of footsteps echoed from below, growing louder with every step. Your stomach flipped, an irrational hope bubbling up before you could quash it. Maybe it’s not him, you thought, though deep down, you already knew better.

Rounding the corner, your heart sank and raced all at once. There he was—Bucky, just a few steps below you, pausing mid-step with his hand gripping the railing. His eyes met yours, and for a moment, neither of you moved. His expression shifted, a flicker of surprise quickly replaced by something guarded, his jaw tightening as if he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t.

“Oh,” you breathed, your voice softer than you’d intended. “Hi.”

His lips pressed into a tight line before he offered a stiff nod. “Hey,” he replied, his voice low, carefully neutral.

You stared at each other for a beat too long, the air between you thick with unsaid words. He looked almost annoyed—not at you, but at the situation, as if running into you had thrown him off his game. And maybe it had, because for the first time, it wasn’t you avoiding him. It was him avoiding you.

“So…taking the stairs now?” His tone was casual, but his eyes betrayed a hint of tension, a wall firmly in place.

You forced a laugh, though it sounded hollow even to your own ears. “Yeah, um… decided to switch things up. Exercise, you know.”

He nodded once, his grip tightening briefly on the railing before loosening again. “Right. Exercise.”

Another awkward silence settled over you, the sound of distant voices from above faintly filling the void. You shifted on the step, clutching the railing a little too tightly, your mind scrambling for something to say—something that wouldn’t make things worse. But before you could speak, Bucky cleared his throat and took a step to the side, making way for you to pass.

“Alright,” he said, his voice clipped. “I’ll… see you around.”

“Yeah,” you replied quietly, hesitating for a moment before you stepped past him. “See you.”

As you descended the stairs, your pulse pounded in your ears, each step feeling heavier than the last. You risked a glance back, only to find him already climbing upward, his shoulders tense, his head down. The image lingered in your mind, the sight of him retreating, the weight of his silence pressing down on you like a stone.

You reached the bottom landing, gripping the railing as you let out a slow breath. Part of you wanted to turn around, to call after him. But the words stayed stuck in your throat, tangled up with your own doubts and fears.

If he didn’t want to talk, you wouldn’t force him. But that didn’t make the ache in your chest any easier to bear.

× × × ×

You arrived at work, your mood sour and your thoughts tangled up in that awkward encounter with Bucky on the stairs. The usual morning chatter of the office greeted you. Trying to focus, you went to your desk, arranging your things in a futile attempt to bring some order to your day.

But then you heard them—Trish and Amy, huddled at the corner near the coffee machine, voices low but still clear enough to reach you.

“I just don’t get it,” Trish was saying. “It’s been days, and there’s still no new uploads from SergeantBarnes. Maybe he’s got a new project or something?”

“Or maybe he’s seeing someone?” Amy added with a conspiratorial tone. “I mean, think about it. He’s been off the grid lately. That’s got ‘new fling’ written all over it.”

You clenched your jaw, trying to block out their conversation. It was the last thing you wanted to hear today, and every word just stoked the frustration simmering inside you. You took a deep breath, attempting to rein in your annoyance, but they just kept going, their words grating at you.

“Honestly, it’s like he’s gone quiet for no reason,” Trish went on, sounding genuinely disappointed. “What am I supposed to watch while I’m waiting for Dan to finish his gaming marathons?”

“Is that all you two talk about?”

You couldn’t help it; something inside you snapped. Before you knew it, you turned around, your voice sharper than you intended.

Both Trish and Amy blinked in surprise, their expressions shifting from confusion to embarrassment. You continued, unable to stop yourself now that you’d started.

“You both have partners, for crying out loud. Do you really need to spend every second gossiping about some guy online?”

They exchanged glances, clearly taken aback. “Jeez, sorry,” Trish muttered, looking both defensive and a little hurt. “We didn’t think it was that big of a deal.”

“It is when we’re supposed to be working,” you replied, more irritated than you’d intended. “Maybe keep the fan talk out of the office? Or, I don’t know, find a hobby that doesn’t involve obsessing over someone else’s life?”

Silence fell as they looked at you, wide-eyed and a bit stunned. Realizing how harsh you’d sounded, you took a step back, immediately feeling a pang of regret. But the frustration from this morning was still fresh, and you couldn’t bring yourself to apologize just yet. Instead, you turned back to your desk, jaw clenched, hoping the tension in the office would dissipate as the day went on.

At the end of your shift, the weight of the day felt heavier than usual. The tension with Bucky hung over you like a cloud, lingering in your thoughts despite your best efforts to shake it off. It shouldn’t even be this deep—so why were you so affected? It’s just a casual thing, you reasoned with yourself. We’re barely even… whatever this is.

Yet, no matter how many times you told yourself to move on, the thought of Bucky—the way he’d looked at you, the frustration and hurt in his eyes—gnawed at you. You found yourself mentally bargaining, trying to find some middle ground, some way to keep your guard up but let him in a little, too. Maybe if I didn’t overthink it… if I just let it be whatever it is, I wouldn’t feel this way.

As you gathered your things, ready to head out, Trish and Amy approached with hesitant smiles.

“Hey, you okay?” Trish asked gently, her earlier excitement replaced with genuine concern.

You managed a small, apologetic smile.

“I’m so sorry about this morning,” you said, glancing between them. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you both. Just… a rough few days.”

They nodded in understanding, exchanging a quick look before Trish turned back to you.

“No worries, but hey, if there’s something bothering you… maybe we can help? What do you say to grabbing some dinner with us? We can talk or not talk about it?”

Amy’s face lit up as she chimed in. “Yeah! You shouldn’t have to stew over whatever it is alone. Come on, let us treat you to some comfort food.”

Their unexpected warmth and support tugged at something in you, and you felt the weight on your shoulders ease just a little.

With a small smile, you nodded. “Sure, that sounds nice. Thanks, guys.”

They grinned, and without missing a beat, each linked an arm through yours on either side, leading you toward the door as if they were determined to help you shake off every ounce of stress you’d been carrying. As you walked together, their chatter filled the air, and you let yourself settle into the easy companionship, hoping that maybe tonight would give you the reset you needed.

× × × ×

Across town, Bucky was pouring everything he had into the punching bag in front of him, each hit landing with a force that reverberated through his whole body. The gym was nearly empty, giving him the space to unload, each punch fueled by the frustration and confusion that had been building inside him for days. His jaw was clenched, beads of sweat trickling down his forehead as he moved, his muscles tense and coiled with pent-up energy. The sharp sound of his fists colliding with the bag echoed through the room, filling the silence as he worked to dump every complicated thought he’d been grappling with.

He had no reason to be as affected as he was, but the whole situation with you had hit him harder than he expected. He’d thought he could brush it off, ignore the strange ache that crept up every time he thought about your last conversation, but it stuck with him.

After a final, powerful jab, Bucky took a step back, breathing heavily as he let his hands drop to his sides. His mind was still a storm of thoughts, the adrenaline from his workout doing little to clear his head.

When he wasn’t working off steam in the gym, Bucky’s day-to-day was far less chaotic than most people would assume. As an automotive engineer at Ford, he spent hours each day under the hood, designing, testing, and refining high-performance engines. His focus had always been on innovation, on precision, on building something that could withstand any test. It was work he loved—real work, with real meaning, where every bolt and every part had a purpose.

The other job, his work in front of the camera, was different. It was an outlet, a separate side of himself he’d chosen to explore. People saw it for what it was on the surface, but it never felt like the core of who he was. You, however, had somehow managed to blur the lines between the two worlds in a way that left him unsteady. And for the first time, he found himself wondering if keeping his other job had been the right one.

The memory of your face—surprised, hesitant, almost wounded—came rushing back to him, making his chest tighten with something more complicated than he was prepared to face.

Why did it matter so much? She’s just my neighbor, he thought.

He sighed, pressing his gloved fists to his forehead as he tried to shake off the ache that had settled there. For now, all he could do was keep hitting, keep moving, hoping that maybe, at some point, the weight of it would finally start to lighten.

Later that evening, Bucky found himself in his kitchen, mindlessly stirring a pot on the stove. The rhythmic motion and steady bubbling should have been enough to distract him, but his thoughts kept drifting—inevitably back to you.

He remembered the first time you’d crossed paths in the building, how you’d barely glanced at him as you carried a pile of boxes through the hallway. It had amused him, how determined you were to act unaffected, especially after that sudden recognition flashed in your eyes. That little double-take when you realized who he was had been priceless. He’d leaned into that reaction ever since, throwing little teases and comments just to see your reaction, to see the way your cheeks would flush or how your gaze would flit away, only to sneak back.

There was something refreshing about the way you seemed to care so little about the reputation attached to him—so different from others he’d met. And maybe that was why he couldn’t resist teasing you, why he went out of his way to bump into you, to throw in a bit of banter just to see if he could make you smile or throw him a comeback.

But he never expected it to go beyond that. He didn’t expect that somewhere along the line, those little interactions would turn into something he looked forward to. And now, somehow, it had gotten tangled up with feelings he wasn’t prepared to deal with.

Bucky stirred the pot a little too vigorously, and a few drops splashed over the edge, hissing as they hit the stovetop. His hand stilled as he sighed, feeling the frustration bubble up all over again. This is my fault, he thought, jaw clenching slightly. I shouldn’t have come onto her too strong.

He hadn’t realized he was stirring so absentmindedly until the pot suddenly began to overflow, the liquid spilling over the edge and sizzling against the hot burner. With a muttered curse, he quickly grabbed a towel, lifting the pot off the heat and wiping up the mess, the sharp smell of burnt food pulling him out of his thoughts.

As he turned off the stove, he couldn’t help but wonder what it would take to make things right with you.

× × × ×

After a long day, you found yourself standing outside Bucky’s door, nerves twisting in your stomach. Just apologize, you told yourself, trying to gather the courage. Get it over with and clear the air. But as you stared at the door, words rehearsed in your mind, you found yourself hesitating. You’d been standing there so long that you’d lost track of time, each second stretching as you cycled through a list of possible things to say, none of which seemed quite right.

Taking a deep breath, you raised your hand to knock when a light, feminine laugh floated through the door, catching you off guard. You froze, your hand mid-air, as the laughter was followed by a familiar deep chuckle. Bucky’s.

"Alright, alright,” you heard him say, sounding more relaxed than you’d ever heard him with you. There was a warmth in his voice that sent a pang through your chest, the kind that came from comfort, closeness.

“Oh, come on, don’t act like you didn’t miss me,” the woman teased, her tone playful and affectionate. “I know you. You’re never this nice to anyone else.”

You swallowed, something tightening in your chest as you listened.

"Alright, guilty," Bucky’s voice softened, almost shy. "Guess you’ve always been a bit of a soft spot."

Your heart twisted, her words and his response echoing in your mind, each line pulling you deeper into a sense of unease. Soft spot? Nice to her in a way he wasn’t with anyone else?

Your mind jumped to the worst possible conclusion, and your cheeks heated as your throat tightened. You felt silly for standing there now, silly for even considering coming over to apologize. What were am I doing? Of course he's with someone.

Just then, you heard footsteps approaching the door, and panic flared. You turned, bolting toward your own apartment, fumbling with your keys as you heard Bucky’s door open behind you. Just as you managed to close your door, you caught a glimpse of him glancing down the hall, his gaze lingering on your door with a curious look.

Bucky’s sister, Becca, caught him glancing toward your door, she raised an eyebrow, nudging him with a knowing smile.

“What’s up with you?” she asked, a touch of teasing in her voice. “Is everything okay?”

Bucky gave his head a quick shake, trying to dismiss the worry that had settled there.

“Yeah, yeah… it’s nothing. Just thought I saw something,” he replied, though his gaze lingered a moment longer on your door before he finally turned back to Becca.

She didn’t look convinced. Folding her arms, she tilted her head, giving him a look that only an older sister could manage—the kind that saw right through any attempt to hide.

“Are you sure? You’ve seemed a little off tonight, Bucky. I don’t think it’s nothing.”

Bucky held up his hands defensively, a hint of a grin tugging at his lips as he tried to brush her off.

“Nothing! Really, it’s nothing. Now go home, seriously,” he insisted, ushering her toward the elevator with a slight push.

Becca rolled her eyes, clearly not buying it for a second.

“Right. Nothing,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she gave him a knowing look. “You’re a terrible liar, you know that?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bucky muttered, a bit more forcefully this time, though he couldn’t quite hide the smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Go on before you start reading my palm or something.”

Becca laughed, throwing her hands up in mock surrender.

“Alright, alright, I’m going,” she said as she stepped into the elevator, though she gave him one last pointed look as the doors began to close. “But, Bucky? maybe figure out what you want before you drive yourself crazy over it.”

With that, the doors shut, leaving Bucky standing in the quiet hallway, he sighed, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he glanced back toward your door.

Later that night, Bucky found himself slumped on his couch, phone in hand as he stared at the search bar. He let out a huff, rolling his eyes at himself as he typed: signs you’re into someone.

The results loaded quickly, and he clicked the first article, skimming the list with a mixture of skepticism and, admittedly, nervous anticipation.

Sign #1: You can’t stop thinking about them.

He paused, frowning at the screen. “Okay, that’s… kind of obvious,” he muttered, mentally ticking off that box with a begrudging sigh.

Sign #2: You go out of your way to see them.

Bucky narrowed his eyes at his phone, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“That one’s just stupid. I mean, we live in the same building. I don’t go out of my—” He paused, remembering all the times he’d “accidentally” found himself in the hallway when you’d get back from work, or when he’d gone to the laundry room at oddly specific times. “Okay, fine. Maybe sometimes.”

He kept scrolling, and the list grew more absurd—do you get jealous when they talk about other people? Do you go out of your way to impress them? By the end of it, he’d mentally checked off nearly every box, his expression morphing into a blend of reluctant acceptance and amusement.

Bucky sighed, tossing his phone onto the couch beside him.

“What am I, sixteen?” he muttered, rubbing a hand over his face. Here he was, a grown man, looking up articles about crushes and ticking off boxes like he needed some random website to validate what he already knew.

But as he sat there, he realized it wasn’t the checklist itself—it was the fact that, for the first time in a long time, he felt like this. Like he actually cared about where things went, enough to drive him to ridiculous measures for some kind of clarity.

With a sigh, he leaned back, staring at the ceiling, the weight of realization settling in. Bucky stared at the ceiling for a few more moments, letting out a deep sigh before grabbing his phone again and pulling up his contacts. Scrolling down to “Steve,” he hesitated for a beat before tapping the call button.

It rang twice before his friend picked up with a cheerful, “Yellow?”

Bucky rolled his eyes, smiling anyway. “Hey, punk.”

“Bucky!” Steve’s voice was light, clearly amused. “What’s up? It’s been a while since you called just to say ‘hi.’”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bucky muttered, shifting uncomfortably. “I… actually had a question. Kind of. For… a friend.”

“Oh, a ‘friend,’ huh? Sure, I’m listening.” Steve chuckled on the other end, and Bucky could practically hear the grin in his voice.

Bucky cleared his throat, leaning back into the couch.

“Right. So, uh, hypothetically speaking… how do you know if, you know, if you’re into someone? Like, in a way that’s… not just friendly?” His words tumbled out, each one feeling more absurd than the last.

“Your ‘friend’ wants to know how to tell if they’ve got a crush, huh? Didn’t realize we were back in high school, Buck.” Steve snorted, not bothering to hide his amusement.

Bucky sighed, feeling his face heat up. “Look, if you’re gonna be annoying, I’ll just—”

“No, no, no, I’m sorry,” Steve said quickly, though he was still chuckling. “Okay, seriously. Well… I guess if your ‘friend’ can’t stop thinking about her, or if he finds himself looking for reasons to be around her, that’s usually a sign. Or if he’s, you know, protective, feels that weird jealousy thing… you know how it goes.”

Bucky was silent for a second, swallowing as he mentally ticked off each of Steve’s points. “Right. Yeah. Hypothetically, that makes sense,” he mumbled, rubbing a hand over his jaw.

“And,” Steve continued, now sounding suspiciously entertained, “if your ‘friend’ is calling up his actual best friend in the middle of the night to figure it out… well, that might be a bit of a giveaway, too.”

Bucky groaned, falling back into the couch with a scowl. “Alright, alright, I get it. Thanks, Steve.”

But Steve wasn’t finished. “Hey, Buck? If you’re asking for yourself—which we both know you are—maybe just tell her how you feel. You’re not as subtle as you think, and if she’s worth this much thought… she’s probably worth the risk, too.”

Bucky was quiet, swallowing the mix of nerves and excitement that Steve’s words stirred up. “…Yeah. Thanks, pal.”

× × × ×

The next morning, you were practically sprinting down the hall, head ducked and heart racing, when you heard him call out, “Hey! Y/N—wait up!”

You didn’t dare look back, only quickened your steps, praying he’d let it go. But his footsteps grew closer, and just as you reached the lobby, you felt a hand gently graze your shoulder.

With an awkward yelp, you dodged sideways, almost colliding with a potted plant as you called over your shoulder, “Sorry, Bucky—gotta go! Late for work!”

You bolted through the doors, ignoring the bewildered look he gave you as you disappeared into the morning rush.

You turned off your phone completely, just to avoid the constant notifications. His messages had started out simple—Hey, can we talk?—but quickly escalated. Each ding had become a taunt, a reminder that, even though he seemed persistent, there was no other reason to face him now. You left your phone off for nearly a full day, and by the time you turned it back on, there were over a dozen missed calls and messages waiting for you, each one a pinch of guilt you tried to ignore.

And just when you thought you’d mastered the art of dodging, fate had other plans.

Untik one bleary-eyed morning, as you rushed out of your apartment with a coffee in one hand and your bag slipping off the other shoulder, you came face-to-face with Bucky at the end of the hallway. There was no escape route this time; he was standing right in your path, his arms folded and an expression somewhere between concerned and utterly frustrated.

You tried to step to the left, but he mirrored you, stepping right into your path.

You shifted right, and he stepped left, blocking you again.

You both paused, sizing each other up. Then, in unison, you both moved left, only to collide shoulders. You exhaled in frustration, darting to the right, but he sidestepped with you again.

“Bucky, please,” you groaned, your patience wearing thin, feeling the minutes tick closer to being late. “I have to go.”

His eyes softened just a little, but he didn’t budge. “Not until you stop running away from me. Can we just talk?”

You scowled, giving him one last sidestep to the left, only to be blocked again. With a frustrated sigh, you finally did the only thing left: you placed both hands on his chest and gave him a firm push, slipping past him before he could react.

“I’m late,” you muttered, not looking back as you all but jogged down the hallway, leaving Bucky in the wake of your retreat, his gaze following you with an expression that told you he wasn’t giving up. Hell no.

× × × ×

Until one day, when you were in the middle of work, a receptionist from the ground floor called up to tell you that someone wanted to see you. Curiosity and irritation flared as you made your way down, a frown already forming on your face. And the second you spotted him—standing in the lobby, arms crossed, looking as frustrated as you’d ever seen him—you felt your heart drop.

You turned on your heel, muttering to yourself, “Unbelievable…” But before you could make it far, he called out.

“Y/N!” His voice echoed across the lobby, and you turned back with a glare.

“What the hell are you doing here, Bucky?” you hissed, stepping closer so your conversation stayed private, though part of you just wanted to get him out of the building before anyone noticed.

His jaw was set, his gaze determined. “Can we talk?”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” you shot back, crossing your arms. “Nothing should have happened between us. Let’s just… leave it at that.”

He frowned, visibly taken aback by your bluntness.

“How can you say that?” he demanded, his voice low but intense.

Your throat tightened, but you held your ground.

“I need to get back to work,” you said, not meeting his eyes. You turned to leave, but his voice stopped you once again.

“I’m not leaving,” he said firmly. “I’ll wait right here until you clock out if that’s what it takes. We’re going to talk, Y/N.”

You groaned, feeling a mix of frustration and disbelief. “Bucky, go home.”

But he didn’t budge. Instead, he took a seat in one of the lobby chairs, crossing his arms and settling in as if he were prepared to stay all night. Despite the receptionist’s raised eyebrows and curious glances from passing employees, Bucky stayed put, a stubborn expression on his face that only grew more determined with each hour that passed.

Throughout the afternoon, you tried to focus on your work, but every so often, curiosity and frustration got the better of you. By mid-afternoon, you found yourself messaging the receptionist, unable to resist asking, “Is he still there?”

The reply was quick and confirmed what you feared: “He hasn’t moved. Just sitting there, staring at his phone.”

You sighed, feeling a pang of guilt despite yourself. “Could you… maybe offer him a drink or something? He’s not going to leave, is he?”

The receptionist’s response was amused. “Already tried. Said he’s fine, but he appreciates it.”

The next day, he was there again, seated in the same chair, his arms crossed and his expression set like stone. This time, he came prepared—there was coffee waiting on the front desk with your name on it. When Trish and Amy teased you about the mysterious admirer, you convinced them to sneak out the back exit with you after work.

The day after that, he stepped it up. Roses. A beautiful arrangement of vibrant blooms appeared on your desk, the receptionist delivering them with a knowing smile. Your coworkers were relentless, whispering about your "secret boyfriend" and giving you sly grins every time they passed your desk. Again, you dodged them and Bucky, slipping out the back exit before he could catch you.

But no matter how much you avoided him, Bucky didn’t give up. Each morning, he was there, as stubborn as a mule—or more appropriately, as stubborn as Bucky Barnes. His persistence was unwavering, his resolve impossible to break.

Finally, on the fourth day, the receptionist herself came up to your floor, pulling you aside with a raised eyebrow and a knowing smirk.

“Y/N,” she began, her tone friendly but firm, “you’ve got to talk to him.”

Your stomach twisted as you glanced at her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She arched a brow, clearly unimpressed with your deflection.

“Your man. He’s down there again. Same chair, same determined look. And he’s got flowers. Again.” She folded her arms, her expression softening slightly. “Look, I don’t know what’s going on between you two, but he’s been here every day for the past four days. He’s polite, patient, doesn’t bother anyone, but... it’s obvious he’s waiting for you.”

Your cheeks burned, and you felt the weight of her words settle over you. “He’s not my—”

“Y/N.” She cut you off, giving you a pointed look. “Just talk to him. If for no other reason than to put him out of his misery. I’ve worked here for five years, and I’ve never seen anyone that persistent. Trust me, most guys wouldn’t even wait an hour.”

You sighed, rubbing a hand over your face. “He’s... complicated.”

The receptionist chuckled, shaking her head. “Aren’t they all? But the way he’s sitting down there, looking like a kicked puppy one minute and a stubborn bulldog the next? That’s not complicated. That’s someone who cares.” She leaned in closer, lowering her voice. “Don’t let something good slip away just because it’s messy.”

Her words lingered long after she walked away, leaving you standing in the hallway, your heart thundering in your chest. You peeked toward the elevator, debating whether you could sneak out through the back again. But deep down, you knew she was right.

Bucky was waiting. And he wasn’t going anywhere.

With a deep breath, you grabbed your things, bracing yourself for what was bound to be another conversation you weren’t sure you were ready for.

× × × ×

You stepped into the lobby, your pulse quickened. There he was, sitting exactly where he’d planted himself hours ago, looking a little rumpled, maybe even tired, but every bit as determined as ever. His gaze lifted the moment you appeared, and for a second, his whole expression softened in a way that made your heart skip a beat. Relief, warmth, maybe even something more—it was all there, clear as day, and somehow it made this moment feel… different.

Bucky rose, a small, boyish grin tugging at the corner of his mouth as he approached. He didn’t say anything at first, just looked at you, letting the silence between you speak. The noise of the lobby faded away, leaving just the two of you, wrapped in a quiet, invisible bubble.

You forced yourself to stay steady, trying to keep the upper hand. Arms crossed, you raised an eyebrow at him. “So… you camped out here all day?”

His smile turned a little sheepish, but there was no hint of apology in his tone.

“Told you I’d wait. Figured you’d come down eventually.” He took a half-step closer, his voice soft and warm, laced with that casual mischief that made it impossible not to smile.

You rolled your eyes, biting back the smile creeping up. “Could’ve just… I don’t know, texted? Called? Like a normal person?”

He tilted his head, his grin widening just enough to make your heart trip over itself.

“I tried that, remember? Didn’t seem to work on you.” He shrugged, completely unfazed. “So I figured I’d go old-school. Sometimes persistence pays off.”

“Persistence,” you muttered, pretending to sound exasperated. “You mean showing up uninvited?”

Before Bucky could answer, the unmistakable chatter of Trish and Amy echoed from the elevator behind you. Your heart jumped into your throat. Oh no. Absolutely not.

Without thinking, you stepped closer to Bucky, practically pressing yourself against him as you yanked your bag off your shoulder and lifted it up like a makeshift shield to block both of your faces.

Bucky froze, his body stiffening at your sudden proximity, but his expression quickly shifted to pure amusement. His lips twitched as he looked down at you, your bag wobbling precariously on the side of your faces.

“Um… what are you doing?” he whispered, his breath brushing against your forehead.

“Shhh!” you hissed, tilting the bag slightly to peek over it. Trish and Amy were slowly walking toward the front doors, their voices growing louder. “Just… don’t move. They can’t see me with you.”

“And why’s that?” Bucky asked, his voice low and teasing, though he didn’t budge. Instead, he leaned down a fraction, his face hovering closer to yours. “Afraid they’ll get the wrong idea?”

“No, I’m afraid they’ll get the right idea,” you snapped under your breath, glaring up at him.

His eyes sparkled, and his grin widened. “Oh, really? And what idea would that be, sweetheart?”

“Bucky,” you warned, the heat rising in your cheeks as you tilted your bag higher, completely covering his smirking face.

But Bucky didn’t seem fazed. If anything, he seemed more amused, his gaze dropping to your face like you were the most fascinating thing he laid eyes upon. His voice softened, the teasing edge replaced by something warmer.

“You know, you’re really bad at hiding.”

“Shut up,” you mumbled, biting the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling.

He chuckled, his chest vibrating lightly against you. “Not gonna lie, this might be the highlight of my day. You, using me as a human shield. Very flattering.”

“Oh shut up,” you whispered, but your voice wavered, betraying the way your pulse was racing.

Trish and Amy finally passed by, oblivious to the two of you tucked against the corner. You let out a breath of relief, slowly lowering your bag. But before you could step away, you realized how close you were—Bucky’s face mere inches from yours, his eyes locked on yours with an intensity that made your heart stutter.

His voice dropped, soft and almost reverent. “You can hide from them all you want. But you can’t keep hiding from me, Y/N.”

Your breath hitched, and for a moment, all you could do was stare back at him, caught in the pull of his gaze. The noise of the lobby faded again, leaving just the two of you in your own little world.

“I told you,” he murmured, his tone steady but impossibly gentle. “I’m not leaving until you talk to me.”

You tried to ignore the thrill of butterflies that his words sparked. “Like I said, there’s nothing to talk about, Bucky. We should just keep our distance from each other okay?”

He took a steadying breath, his brows drawing together, his voice losing that playful edge.

“How can you just decide that?” he asked, his tone almost pleading. “You don’t even know…”

You shifted, heart pounding. “Because I know you’re already seeing someone else. I don’t need to be another complication in your life.”

He blinked, visibly taken aback. And then, just as quickly, his face softened, an incredulous, almost disbelieving laugh escaping him.

“Seeing someone else? Where did you get that idea?”

Heat crept up your cheeks as you tried to hold your ground. “I—I heard her, okay? When I was at your door the other day. The laughing, the… the way you sounded with her…” You bit your lip, looking anywhere but at him.

“Oh.”

He let out another breathy laugh, shaking his head as if you’d just told him the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard.

“Y/N… that wasn’t a date. She’s not—” He broke off, running a hand through his hair, his expression a mix of exasperation and utter amusement. “She’s my sister.”

Your mouth dropped open, the realization hitting you like a freight train. “… what?”

“Yeah, my sister, Becca. She was just in town visiting.” He gave you a look of pure, amused disbelief, a grin pulling at the corners of his mouth. “God, you really thought I was seeing someone?”

“Well, what else was I supposed to think?” you muttered, cheeks flaming with embarrassment.

Bucky’s smile softened, and he took another step closer, until there was hardly any space between you.

“You should’ve just asked,” he murmured, his voice low and warm. “Instead of. . . I don’t know? Avoiding me like the plague?”

You tried to summon a retort, but your heart was racing, your thoughts jumbled by his proximity and the way his gaze seemed to hold you captive.

Bucky chuckled, the sound soft and full of affection as he reached out, gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

“All this because of a misunderstanding?” His voice was low, his hand lingering, fingers brushing against your cheek. “I’ve been going crazy trying to figure out why you’re dead set on ignoring me.”

You managed to look up at him, heart pounding as you searched his eyes, suddenly feeling like all the air had been sucked out of the room.

“So… you’re not seeing anyone?”

“There’s only one person I want to see,” he murmured, his hand dropping from your face and now brushing against your arm. “And I thought I’m making that pretty clear?”

Your mouth opened and closed then opened again, “Okay. . .”

“Okay. . .” Bucky chuckles and steps back, “Shall we. . . restart?”

A flicker of surprise crossed your face, and a warmth bloomed in your chest at his invitation. You’d spent so many days tangled in your own assumptions, convinced things between you were over before they even began, and here he was, offering an olive branch with that disarming smile.

“Restart?” you echoed, your heart skipping a beat as you met his gaze.

He nodded, his expression softening even more. “Yeah.”

You gave him a small, hesitant smile, feeling a mixture of excitement and nerves. “Yeah… I think I’d like that.”

Bucky’s grin widened, relief and something warmer sparking in his eyes. “Great. Let’s go home?”

“U-Uh, sure.”

× × × ×

The streets were alive with the hum of the city—cars rushing by, distant chatter from groups of people, and the occasional burst of laughter from passersby. But despite the liveliness around you, there was an unspoken tension in the air.

You noticed the way women’s heads turned as you passed, their gazes lingering a little too long on Bucky. It didn’t help that he looked effortlessly handsome, his casual outfit somehow drawing more attention than it should have. A part of you wanted to roll your eyes, but another part couldn’t blame them.

Bucky didn’t seem to notice—or maybe he just didn’t care. His focus remained on you, his stride matching yours, though there was a slight hesitation in his step.

“You’re quiet,” you murmured, glancing up at him as you adjusted the bouquet in your arms.

He let out a soft hum, his hands sliding into his pockets. “Just thinking,” he said, his voice low.

“About?”

He hesitated, his jaw tightening slightly before he finally spoke. “About that night.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, and you instinctively looked away, focusing on the ground ahead of you.

“I thought we weren’t going to bring that up,” you said softly, your voice tinged with both unease and curiosity.

“We have to talk about it eventually,” he replied, his tone steady but gentle. “I don’t like leaving things unresolved, Y/N.”

When you finally reached the corner of your block, you slowed your steps. Bucky noticed, his own pace matching yours, and for a moment, neither of you spoke.

The two of you moved to the quieter steps of your building, sitting side by side. The soft hum of the city buzzed around you, but it felt distant, like it belonged to another world entirely. Your bag rested on your lap, your face soft under the streetlights, but the tension in the air was anything but light.

Bucky broke the silence first, his hands clasped together as he leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees.

“I’ve been wanting to say this for a while,” he started, his voice low but steady. “That night… I wasn’t mad at you. I was mad at myself.”

You blinked, turning to him in surprise. “Mad at yourself?”

He nodded, his jaw clenching for a moment before he continued. “Yeah. I thought I’d scared you off, made you feel like I wasn’t taking you seriously. The last thing I ever wanted was for you to think I was just… using you.”

Your fingers tightened around the bouquet, the ache in his voice tugging at something deep in your chest.

“Bucky, it wasn’t just about you,” you admitted quietly. “It was me, too. I panicked. I wasn’t sure if I could handle…” You hesitated, searching for the right words. “Handle what your life looks like.”

His head tilted slightly, his blue eyes softening as he looked at you. “Because of my job,” he said gently, not as a question, but a statement.

You nodded, feeling a lump form in your throat.

“It’s hard, Bucky. I hear my coworkers talking about you—about SergeantBarnes—all the time. They don’t know it’s you, but it’s constant. They treat you like… like you’re this fantasy, this unattainable thing. And it’s not just them. It’s everyone who sees you online, who only knows that part of you.”

He stayed silent, letting your words settle, his gaze never leaving your face.

“And then there’s me,” you continued, your voice wavering slightly. “I don’t want to be another name on a list or someone who gets overshadowed by… by the version of you that everyone else thinks they know.”

Bucky leaned forward again, his elbows resting on his knees as he turned his head to look at you. The streetlights cast a soft glow over his face, highlighting the sincerity in his expression.

“I get that,” he repeated, his voice quieter now, almost contemplative. “And I hate that you feel that way. But Y/N, you’re not another name on a list to me. You’re not someone who gets lost in all of that… noise.”

You held his gaze, the weight of his words settling in your chest. His patience today, his persistence—it wasn’t the action of someone who saw you as fleeting or inconsequential. It was the effort of someone who cared, deeply.

Bucky sighed softly, rubbing a hand over his face. “Look, I’ve kept my work and personal life separate for a reason. It’s always been easier to compartmentalize, to keep everything from bleeding into each other. But now? Now I realize that I didn’t think about what would happen if someone—if you—became significant to me.”

Your chest tightened, his words chipping away at the insecurities you’d been holding onto. “Bucky…”

Bucky turned toward you fully, his blue eyes locking onto yours, raw and unguarded in a way that made your heart ache.

“If I told you that I want to spend every day and night with you—not just because I like you, but because you’ve become the one constant person I can’t stop thinking about. If I told you that you’re my sanity when the world feels like chaos, my laughter, my desire, my comfort, my day and my night, my cold and heat—If I told you that, would you think that translates to only wanting you as ‘one of my girls’?”

Your breath caught, the raw honesty in his words shaking you. “Bucky…”

“I know my job makes things messy,” he continued, his voice quieter now, like he was almost ashamed. “But I get it—I get why it’s hard for you. I hate that it’s something that puts distance between us.”

He looked down at his hands for a moment before meeting your gaze again. “If I could go back and change things, I would. I’d do whatever it takes to make this easier for you.”

Your throat tightened, the sincerity in his voice making it hard to speak.

“I don’t want you to feel like you have to change who you are for me,” you said softly.

“It’s not about changing who I am,” he replied, shaking his head. “It’s about making sure I don’t lose something.”

Bucky exhaled slowly, his hands fidgeting as he leaned back against the step, staring up at the night sky for a moment before turning his gaze back to you.

“I’m gonna be really honest with you, Y/N,” he started, his voice low, hesitant. “I don’t know what I’m gonna do about the… other stuff yet. It’s not as simple as just walking away. I’ve got contracts, commitments—it’s not something I can just drop overnight.”

Your chest tightened at his words, but you nodded, appreciating his honesty even as the knot in your stomach grew.

"And that means... what exactly?" you asked, even though deep down, you already knew.

Bucky’s jaw tightened, and he let out an exasperated chuckle, running a hand through his hair. “Do you really want me to say it? Do I have to say it?”

You didn’t flinch this time, your voice cutting through the tension with unsettling clarity. “It means you have to keep having sex with other porn stars… right?”

Bucky winced at the bluntness of your question, the words hitting him harder than he expected. His jaw tightened, and for a moment, he didn’t say anything, his gaze dropping to the ground as he wrestled with what felt like shame.

You sighed heavily, pressing the heel of your hand against your forehead as you shut your eyes tightly. Your mind was spinning, your emotions tangled in a knot you couldn’t untie. Out of all the men that could catch your interest, why did it have to be him?

“You are the most complicated guy I’ve ever met,” you said, letting out a short, humorless laugh that carried no amusement, only exhaustion. “Oh my gosh, I honestly don’t even know—” You paused, your voice faltering as you opened your eyes and looked at him, the frustration bubbling to the surface. “How would you make it easier for me, Bucky? How?”

Bucky swallowed thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing as his lips parted, his gaze flickering over your face. He was clearly thinking, his mind working furiously to find a solution, any solution.

"Do you… not like the idea of me with other women?" he asked tentatively, his tone cautious.

You snorted, narrowing your eyes at him. "That’s a stupid question, Bucky."

"Just say yes or no," he pressed, his gaze intent.

"Yes, I do not like the idea," you snapped, your tone sharp with irritation. "But I can’t prevent it, can I?"

Bucky took a deep breath, his jaw tightening as he stared at you. Then, his next words came out carefully, almost testing the waters.

“What if. . .you do it with me?”

Your eyes widened, disbelief flooding your expression as his suggestion hung in the air.

Slowly, a startled laugh escaped your lips.

"Are you joking? You’re out of your mind if you think I’d showcase my body to the world like that!"

"I’m not saying you have to," he said quickly, his hands raising defensively. "I just thought… maybe it’d feel different. Less like I’m with strangers. Maybe it’d feel like I’m with you."

"Bucky," you said, your voice heavy with disbelief, "that’s not a solution. That’s… whatever that is, it’s insane."

His shoulders sagged slightly, and he ran a hand through his hair, his fingers tugging at the roots in frustration.

“I know it sounds insane,” he muttered, his tone rough. “But I’m trying to find a way to make this work. To make this easier for you.”

You shook your head, letting out a long breath. You stared at Bucky, your frustration and disbelief simmering just beneath the surface.

“Me… doing that with you? Just so I can handle this better?”

He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face.

“I know it sounds crazy. Trust me, I know. But I hate the thought of you being upset every time I have to perform. And yeah, maybe it’s a selfish thought, but if it were with you… at least it’d feel real. Like it means something.”

You bit your lip, his words tugging at something inside you. But the idea of putting yourself in front of a camera, of having your body displayed for the world—it made your stomach churn. "Bucky, that’s not… I don’t know if I could ever do that. It’s not me. It’s not what I want people to see of me."

He nodded slowly, his hands fidgeting in his lap. "I get that," he said softly. "But if it’s the only way to make this easier for you… I just thought—"

"You thought what?" you interrupted, cutting him off. "That I’d suddenly be okay with the idea of putting my body out there for millions of people to see? That I’d somehow be okay sharing you like that, even if it’s just on-screen?"

Bucky flinched at your tone, his jaw tightening. "I don’t want you to share me. I don’t want any of this to be a problem for us. But you don’t trust that I’m serious about you, and I’m just trying to find a way to show you."

You let out a shaky breath, your thoughts spinning. He wasn’t wrong—it was hard to trust, hard to believe that someone with a job like his could be serious about anyone, let alone you. But his suggestion… it wasn’t the answer. Was it?

For a moment, you considered something that had never crossed your mind before. The idea was ludicrous, insane even, but it lingered in the back of your thoughts like a whisper. Your lips parted hesitantly, the words tasting strange on your tongue as you said them.

"If I agreed… hypothetically," you started, your voice faltering slightly, "would I… would I have to show my face?"

Bucky blinked, taken aback by your question. For a moment, his expression softened, a mix of relief and regret washing over his face.

“It’s only a suggestion. . . you don’t have to do this, if you’re uncomfortable." he said, his voice quiet but firm. “I just… I threw it out there because I’m desperate to find a way to make this work.”

You exhaled, shaking your head.

“I don’t know. But the thought of you with someone else�� it makes me sick. And now I feel like I’m stuck, like there’s no winning in this situation.”

Bucky studied you for a long moment, his blue eyes filled with understanding. You could see him weighing his next words carefully, as if they could tip the balance in either direction.

Finally, he broke the silence, his voice soft yet steady. “You know what? Forget I said any of that,” he said, his lips quirking into a small, almost sheepish smile. “It’s too much for tonight. For both of us.”

You blinked, caught off guard by his sudden shift in tone. “Bucky—”

“No,” he interrupted gently, shaking his head. “I’m serious. I don’t want you to feel like this has to be some big, impossible decision right now. We’re both exhausted from this conversation, and I don’t want to mess it up any more than I already have.”

You felt a lump form in your throat, a mix of relief and guilt swirling in your chest. He was giving you an out, a way to step back from the overwhelming weight of it all, and you weren’t sure whether to thank him or cry.

“How about this,” Bucky said, leaning forward slightly, his tone softer now. “Let’s just… hit pause for tonight. Tomorrow, we’ll do something normal. Something simple. Let’s go on a date—no heavy talks, no complicated feelings. Just us.”

Your eyes searched his, finding nothing but sincerity in his gaze. It wasn’t an easy fix, and it wouldn’t erase the doubts or the fears that still lingered between you. But it was a step forward, a way to reconnect without the weight of everything else pressing down on you both.

“A date?” you asked, your lips twitching into a hesitant smile.

“Yeah,” he said, his smile growing a little. “Somewhere fun, somewhere we can just… breathe. No drama, no cameras, just you and me.”

You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head. “You make it sound so easy.”

Bucky’s grin widened, and he shrugged, a teasing glint in his eye. “That’s because it can be. We don’t have to solve everything at once, Y/N. We just have to take it one step at a time.”

You nodded slowly, feeling the tension in your chest loosen ever so slightly.

“Alright,”you said, your voice steadying. “Tomorrow, we’ll go on a date.”

Bucky’s smile was warm and genuine, and for a moment, the weight of the evening lifted.

"Awesome," he said, standing up and offering you his hand. "Now, let me walk you up. Can’t let you carry bag on your own."

You laughed softly, taking his hand as he helped you to your feet. As the two of you walked back into your building, the night air seemed a little lighter. Although at the back of your thought, a question lingers. Should you agree to his suggestion?

tags: @bohoooitsme @barnescamboy @strangefunthornqueen @mayusenpai666 @seven0714

@rabbitrabbit12321 @alexsl-universe @xunquish-blog @hzdhrtss @winchestert101

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@morganlolitta @openup-yourmind @urbanleftovers @fallout-girl219 @awenita

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@leighta @formulas-bitch @waywardhunter95 @cereal6666 @gg-trini

@ohdrey89 @theboysfanficmaker @clintsupremacy @whatislovevavy @okeypoteto

@lilynotdilly @byunleedy @mrsalexstan @jamesbarneswife @chiseplushie

@antiartemis @imagoddessinmystories @let-it-sn0o0ow @mostlymarvelgirl @crdgn

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speakercrab666 · 2 years ago

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it’s okay to cop out sometimes. sometimes eating right and going outside just isn’t gonna happen today, and instead of sitting in your bed and feeling guilty for not making a meal and going for a walk, you get an ice cream and a medium fries from mcdonald’s and eat it parked next to a playground with your car door open.

and is it perfect? no, of course not. i’m not even sitting outside i just have the door open and an ice cream and fries hardly counts as a meal. but it’s something, and that is always better than nothing :)

#tw food #yes i wrote a novel in the tags but this is my blog you’re just living in it now shut up and read my novel it’s called Eat My A(DHD)ss #el has a life #el has adhd #felt like i had to do better today #but i realised what the hell does doing better mean?? and why do i think it means be the best???#sure eating something good for me and getting some exercise outside is better for me than doing nothing #but so is half assing it #that’s half an ass right there that’s way more than no ass #so if ice cream and chips for breakfast in a playground parking lot is my bar for the day then so fucking be it #i’m doing my best #and that’s fucking good enough god damn it #ALWAYS REMEMBER. IF THERE IS ANYTHING YOU CAN DO AND IT WILL MAKE YOU FEEL EVEN A LITTLE BIT BETTER.#DO IT. IT DOESNT MATTER IF IT FEELS LAZY OR LIKE A COP OUT OR LIKE UR HALF ASSING IT #ITS SOMETHING!!! AND THAT WILL FEEL SO MUCH BETTER THAN NOTHING!!!!#sometimes nothing is all you can do and that’s okay #i know that very well. it happens and it sucks and it feels so bad and i understand #but if there is something. ANYTHING. that you can do that will make you feel a little bit better #don’t let the thought that it’s not the ‘best’ thing or the ‘right’ thing or so on stand in the way of you getting to feel a bit better #today i woke up and my brain was screaming MCFLURRY MCFLURRY MCFLURRY #and nothing else i could think of sounded at all appealing #i didn’t want a mcflurry for breakfast bc i thought i should do better #so i did #i got a mcflurry AND i managed to cram some fries in my mouth too how good is that!!!!#i did better than i thought i could #it wasn’t better than i thought i SHOULD but fuck you what i should do doesn’t matter if i can’t do it #what i CAN do is way more important no matter how small or half assed or not good enough those things might feel #executive dysfunction #actually autistic #living with adhd

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rafesfuckdoll · 6 months ago

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Come Over Please

summary: would you cheat on your boyfriend for your best friend? we'll see..

warnings: p in v, fingering, oral sex (reader receving), cheating, daddy calling. that's it i think....

word count: 1.2k

Rafe has been calling you continuously, but you have been rejecting his calls due to being busy. "Pick up the phone y/n" he mumbles to himself. After his third attempt, you finally answer and hear heavy breathing on the other end of the line. You were currently hanging out with your boyfriend Tristan "What's up Drew? I'm with Tristan" You said into your phone.

The sound of heavy breathing intensifies as Rafe hears your voice and realises you're with someone else. His heart drops, but his desire for you only grows stronger. "Fuck sorry.. I thought you were alone." He replies almost mumbling, making you get worried. No matter the circumstances, your best friend Rafe was always the most important person to you, even if you had a boyfriend. "Why? What's going on?" You ask curiously, noticing his heavy breathing. He struggles to compose himself. trying to push his desires to the side as he lies to you. "I've had quite the day and I thought we could have a little catch-up," Rafe stated, taking a deep breath to quiet his racing heart and hormones. "I'll be right there." You say before ending the call abruptly. You were going home anyway, so why not make a short visit to Rafe's house along the way? As time goes on, you say your goodbyes to your boyfriend.

After some time, you eventually reached Rafe's house, located right beside yours. You have lived next to each other since childhood. You approach his front door, aware that he was by himself at home because his dad was away on a business trip.

Rafe had barely put down the phone before he heard your knock on his door. He quickly rushes to open it, revealing himself in nothing but sweatpants that do little to hide his arousal "Hey... uh, come on in." You looked at him and rolled eyes, obviously knowing what he just did. "Were you in the middle of something?" You inquire as he closes the door, aware that his arousal did not go unnoticed. With a smirk playing on his lips, he bites down lightly, eyeing you with a combination of desire and lust. "Nah, just been getting some exercise." He deceives, walking into the room after you. "Mhm," you murmur as you head to his bedroom, the usual spot where you both hang out. Rafe observes you moving towards his bedroom, feeling his erection pulsating in his sweatpants. He tries compose himself, but he knows he wants you. He enters his room after you, perching on his bed and flashing a cocky grin in your direction. "What's with the cocky look?" You laughed, sitting down beside him and getting comfortable. He chuckles before saying, "Well, you know... I just can't help but want to fuck you right now." He said with a slight smirk formed on his lips, his eyes focused on your face. Instantly widening your eyes, you clear your throat. "Dude I have a literal boyfriend." He raised an eyebrow, his smirk never leaving his face. "I know, but that doesn't change the fact that I still want to fuck you, does it?" He grabs your thigh and squeezes it gently, looking at you with a mix of lust and desire. Glancing at your thigh before turning your eyes back to him. "I mean, okay... but I would never cheat, bro." You're not telling the truth. You would never cheat, that's a given, but Rafe was your soft spot, and you acknowledged it. You'd do anything for him.

Rafe smirks as he glides his hand up and down your thigh, his fingers lightly brushing against your private area beneath your sweatpants. "Who said anything about cheating? We can just have a little fun.. no strings attached." He moves his hand inside your pants, his fingers tracing around your panties pushing them to the side, ready to slip his fingers inside if you give him the go-ahead. The unexpected touch caused a moan to escape your lips as you swiftly grasped his hand and pushed it away from inside your pants. "What fun? how would it not be cheating.." He places his hand back on your thigh. "Well we wouldn't fuck.. i can just eat you out until you cum.." You listen to his words, taking it all in. You wanted it bad, he made you weak and you were completely horny at this point. However, the burden of guilt concerning Tristan persisted. "Hmm..." Rafe moves in closer, his warm breath brushing against your face. "Come on.. it'll be fun. I promise I won't tell anyone. You can just think of it as a.. one time thing.."

"Okay," you murmur quietly, your lower lip trapped between your teeth as you lock eyes with him. After laying down on his bed and making yourself comfortable, you switched on his TV and nestled under the blanket, spreading your legs underneath. "Get under the blanket now," you ordered firmly. With a grin on his face, Rafe swiftly slides under the blanket and settles between your legs. He pulls your panties aside, revealing your wet folds. "Fuck.. you're soaked baby." His tongue darts out, flicking over your clit. He starts to lick and suck on your folds, his hand moving up to grab your hip and hold you in place. As he moaned louder, mirroring your own sounds, his finger slipped inside you, moving in and out while he sucked on your clit. Your moans were getting increasingly louder, your eyes fixed on the TV screen, yet not really paying attention to what was playing. Quickly moving his tongue and curling his fingers inside you, he skillfully targets your g-spot. He can tell you're close to reaching climax. "Let's go, sweetheart." You pull on Rafe's hair beneath the blanket, guiding his face closer to your core as you begin to squirt. "Please stop," you plead desperately. He groans against your pussy while you squirt, his fingers continuing to move in and out of you a few more times, making sure to lick up every last drop. He removes his finger from you, yet his tongue persists in teasing your now sensitive clit. His cock still hard as a rock, one hand of his reaching down to massage himself from outside his pants.

"Fuck me." You whisper and trust Rafe doesn't waste any time pulling his pants down and move up to hover over you, his cock in his hand. He lifts your legs slightly, wrapping them around his hips before entering you with a single deep thrust. "Oh fuck y/n." He groans as his eyes meet yours. Starting to thrust in and out of you. With his mouth slightly open, he breathes heavily as his hips move forcefully against yours. He starts to pick up the pace, his cock sliding in and out of your wetness. His lips meet yours in a passionate kiss while hes genuinely fucking you with everything he has, his thrusts becoming erratic as he gets closer to cumming, "Shit... im gonna-" "Cum for me daddy." You interrupt him, almost begging for it.

His member pulsates within you as you speak, his movements growing more erratic. Gasping, he kisses you deeply, bringing you closer as he ejaculates within you, his member remaining rigid as he eases into a slow rhythm. "Fuck, I needed that.." He whispers.

"Me too.." You pant out after he laid down next to you, both looking up to the ceiling. The guilt building up that you just cheated on Tristan..

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sttoru · 1 year ago

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𝐈𝐓’𝐒 𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍 .

⟣ sypnosis. a nightmare of your lover’s disappearance wakes you from your sleep.

⟣ tags. gojo satoru x female reader. angst, comfort, fluff. takes place after gojo’s unsealed but before dec 24th, bits of spoilers jjk leaks 236 at the end. mentions of death, blood.

⟣ note. based on it’s happening again by agnes obel. coping rn dhmu . . . not proofread bcs i cant read through my tears anyways hope u enjoy im gonna cry myself to sleep now

everyone has to die at one point — not even the strongest of all could avoid that tragical fate. not even the strongest sorcerer you call your lover.

no, not even him. the universe couldn’t spare him. you thought that maybe, it would. maybe fate wouldn’t apply to him. oh, how wrong you were.

blood splatter—a stream of red liquid. right at your feet. right in front of your eyes. a man in half. and not just any regular man;

“satoru !”

your dark surroundings become blurry with tears, your body jolts out of its current dreaming state. you could feel your heart in your chest—in your throat. your brain shut itself off for a few seconds as your eyes try to make out shapes and figures in the room you’re in. your bedroom.

you only then realises that it was all just a gruesome nightmare. a hyperrealistic one at that; one that will haunt you for years.

“hmmh.. ‘m right here, baby.” a groggy voice next to you replies to your yell in agony. the yell that was the shape of your lover’s name leaving your lips—

you instantly turn your head to the right and there he was; the man whom just met death in your dreams. gojo satoru, all alive and well. in your bed, in your presence, in your life.

satoru’s hand aimlessly pats the space next to him in search of your body whilst he rubbed his eyes with the other, trying to adjust his sight to the dark so he could find you. you seemed to be in complete distress. which he does not like.

“it’s okay, shh, shh,” your lover hums, hand finally finding your arm. he doesn’t hesitate to pull you on top of him—your head laying on his chest.

his body was warm. his heartbeat was there. loud and clear in your right ear.

“satoru. . .” a river of tears flows down your cheeks like a dam that has been broken into. your body trembles, lungs feeling like they couldn’t get any air in them from how hard you were sobbing. the pain of losing your loved one; it all came flowing back to you.

satoru frowns, “hey, hey. look at me — sweetheart, c’mon.”

he instantly sits up and pulls you along with him. his hands find your cheeks, tilting your head up. this time it was his turn to feel his heart break in pieces. you looked absolutely distraught. as if you just went through a traumatic experience of some kind. he hated it.

“shit,” satoru mutters under his breath before pulling you into his embrace again, arms circling your waist with his head buried in the crook of your neck, “it’s okay, i’m here now. you’re safe.”

it wasn’t the first time you had nightmares when he was with you. you had them regularly after satoru had gotten sealed in the prison realm for nineteen days—nineteen days of dread for you. of an empty bed, an empty house and an empty life.

when satoru had finally been released from the prison realm it was like a dream come true. a happy dream, that is. not those repetitive, bad ones you have every now and then. you still get those nightmares of your lover being either taken away from you by force or by death itself. your brain couldn’t give you a break — even after his return.

“take a deep breath in,” satoru instructs and sets an example by doing the breathing exercise with you, “hold it for three seconds . . . breathe out for six. mhmm, good—jus’ like that.”

you repeat it a couple more times, sobbing and shaking throughout the entirety of the exercise, but eventually manage to calm down a little. satoru sighs in relief at this;

“you okay, baby?”

you nod weakly and sniff, wanting nothing more than to be held by the man you thought had vanished from your life forever. you had that scare once, when he was sealed, and you never want to go back to those dark times. ever.

“it’s— i, just—“ you hiccup once, unable to complete entire sentences, “i thought you w-were gone. i thought you had died.”

it was silent after that (except for the sound your silent sobs and sniffles). satoru had guessed by now that you saw him die in your dream — that much was pretty obvious. but, the thought that you were this distressed because of it makes him. . . happy in a way.

happy that someone would mourn over him at least.

“well,” satoru pensively replies, hands rubbing your back up and down soothingly, “everyone has to meet their end one day, you know?”

that sentence was one that was meant to lighten up the grim mood somehow. one of his many lighthearted remarks that were supposed distract you from your tears. it would work during other moments like these — were you’d be too baffled by the things satoru says to care about what you were crying for — yet today it only worsens your misery.

“shut up.” you weakly punch his chest to which the white haired male chuckles softly, his slender fingers instantly interlocking with yours. satoru’s thumb brushes against your wrist before pulling it up to his lips, placing ticklish kisses among your skin.

another silence hangs in the air.

“seriously though. . . if i were to somehow die, i’d want you to live and move on, yeah?” your lover whispers in such a quiet tone that it was almost inaudible. satoru had looked death right in the eye before — he didn’t care back then if it were actually his end.

he does now. he has the world to lose — his world — his everything. you.

satoru wants to live a happy life with you. he doesn’t want to die now that he has you. the love of his life which he wants to grow old with. maybe have kids with. start an own family away from the busy streets, away from the swarming curses in the city and away from all that sorcerer stuff. it was a nice dream.

“shut it!” you huff and satoru takes another weak punch to the chest. his gaze lands upon your tear struck face and he instantly drops the serious ‘act’.

the sorcerer laughs, his usual boyish laugh that makes you feel better, and he flips you both over so that he has you pinned underneath him. satoru grins before kissing your tummy all over, making you giggle from the ticklish feeling;

“i’m playin’, baby! i’m not going anywhereeee!” he promises through wet pecks against your skin, the smile on his evident even if you couldn’t see it — you could hear it in his voice.

satoru leaves your tummy and moves on to your neck and face. he was smothering you in affection in hopes you’d cheer up some way. he just wants you to forget about anything bad happening to him. you didn’t deserve to think about all that stuff — you deserve to be happy and full of joy.

even without him one day.

“i’d never leave my princess all alone.” satoru shakes his head and pouts dramatically, “who else is gonna spoil you? or kiss and cuddle you to bed, huh?”

you finally show an ounce of joy. a tiny smile. that was all satoru had needed to see. he wasn’t going to stop there, however. his goal was to turn that small smile into a full blown fit of laughter.

“i’m one of a kind, baby. you’re never gonna meet a man like me.” he continues with a proud grin, putting all of his body weight on top of you which causes you to groan and grumble a lighthearted complain.

satoru knows you like it whenever he clings to you and thus he uses that piece of knowledge to help you feel better. his head was buried into your shoulder, limbs enveloping your body like a koala.

“whatever.” you roll your eyes and snuggle up to your lover, closing your eyes as the tiredness hits your body after all that crying.

“whatever !” satoru mocks you in a high-pitched tone, followed by a pair of giggles from the two of you. a third and final punch to the chest finally shuts him up for the rest of the night.

the sorcerer made sure you had fallen asleep first before he whispered the next words in your ear, hoping they’d calm your mind and body so that no nightmares would ever bother you again;

“don’t you worry, sweets. i’m not leaving you. ever.”

. . .

those were the same exact words satoru wished he could utter to you one last time before the current date — 24th of december.

#sttoru writes.#jjk x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk fic #jjk fluff #jjk angst #gojo x you #jjk x you #gojo angst #jjk comfort #jjk spoilers

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daenysx · 2 months ago

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6:00AM with james??

6.00 AM | JAMES POTTER

"it's so cold." you whimper. "i'm freezing, jamie."

"okay, okay, just-" james tries to wrap you in his arms, it's hard when you're shaking. "come here."

he somehow manages to settle you down in his arms, your head gets to stay on his arm, and he has a strong grip on your waist. it's safe, and it's so james. you press your cold nose on his neck. he cups the back of your neck to pull you closer.

"you have an early class." he says, quietly. "we should stay awake."

"how can we stay awake when we're freezing?" you ask him. "a few minutes more, please."

"i'm actually pretty good, you're the one who's freezing."

"this is not a good time to tease me." you say. "i'm seriously cold."

"okay, poor baby." he kisses your head. "don't fall asleep."

"i won't." you promise. you actually won't keep it, james is well aware of that. still, the way you look like with your body squished to him makes his arguments go away. if you're not panicking to get the class on time, you probably thought of this before him.

he's a morning person, but his mornings usually include sunshine, fresh coffee, and a good exercise. today it's raining, you're like a koala against him, and he's tired. he thinks he can even fall asleep like this, something he normally can't after waking up. you smell so nice, your even breaths make a nice rhytm to james's ears.

"i'm not gonna wake up." you mumble, still sleeping but you want him to know you're staying here. "for the class."

"okay." james whispers. he rubs your back with his big hand, you're soaking in the warmth of the bed and him. "i can cancel my training for today. do you wanna spend some time when you wake up?"

you kiss his neck, it brings butterflies to his chest. "of course i do, jamie." you say. raindrops hit harder on the window. "i love you."

"i love you, baby." james falls asleep quicker than he thinks he can. he'll call his friend to let them know he's not coming today, he knows they won't mind for one day at least. this is a bit dangerous, he thinks, who's gonna get him to leave the bed in the mornings when it's addictive to stay here with you wrapped around him?

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grison-in-space · 2 months ago

Text

you know what else fucks me up about the US election? one of the things that has left me reeling in bewilderment and grief this month?

I'm a scientist, y'all.

That means that I am, like most American research scientists, a federal contractor. (Possibly employee. It's confusing, and it fucks with my taxes being a postdoctoral researcher.) I get paid because someone, in the long run ideally me, makes a really, really detailed pitch to one of several federal grant agencies that the nation would really be missing out if I couldn't follow up on these thoughts and find concrete evidence about whether or not I'm right.

Currently, my personal salary is dependent on a whole department of scientists convincing one of the largest and most powerful granting agencies that they have a program that is really good at training scientists that can think deeply about the priorities of the agency. Those priorities are defined by the guy who runs the agency, and he gets to hire whatever qualified people he wants. That guy? The Presidential Administration picks that one. That's how federal agencies get staffed: the President's administration nominates them.

All of the heads of these agencies are personally nominated by the president and their administration. They are people of enormous power whose job is to administer million-dollar grants to the scientists competing urgently for limited funds. A million dollars often doesn't go farther than a couple of years when it's intended to pay for absolutely everything to do with a particular pitch, including salaries of your trainees, all materials, travel expenses, promoting the work among other researchers, all of it—so most smart American researchers are working fervently on grants all the time.

The next director of the NIH will be a Trump appointee, if he notices and thinks to appoint one. NSF, too; that's the group that funds your ecology and your astroscience and your experimental mathematics and physics and chemistry, the stuff that doesn't have industry funding and industry priorities. USDA. DOE, that's who does a lot of the climate change mitigation and renewable energy source research, they'll just be lucky if they can do anything again because Trump nigh gutted them last time.

Right now, I am working on the very tail end of a grant's funding and I am scurrying to make sure I stay employed. So I'm thinking very closely about federal agency priorities, okay? And I'm thinking that the funding climate for science is going to get a lot fucking leaner. I'm seeing what the American people think of scientists, and about whether my job is worth doing. It's been a lean twelve years in this gig, okay? Every time the federal government gets fucked up, that impacts my job, it means that I have to hustle even harder to get grants in that let me support myself—and, if I have any trainees, their budding careers as well!—to patch over the lean times as much as we can.

So I've been reeling this week thinking about how funding agency priorities are going to change. I work on sex differences in motivation, so let me tell you, the politics reading this one for my next pitch are going to be fun. I'm working on a submission for an explicitly DEI-oriented five year grant with a cycle ending in February, so that's going to be an exercise in hoping that the agency employees at the middle levels (the ones that know how to get things done which can't be replaced immediately with yes men) can buffer the decisions of those big bosses long enough to let that program continue to exist a little while longer.

Ah, Christ, he promised Health & Human Services (which houses the NIH) to RFK, didn't he? We'll see how that pans out.

I keep seeing people calling for more governmental shutdowns on the left now, and it makes me want to scream. The government being gridlocked means the funding that researchers like me need doesn't come, okay? When the DOE can't say fucking "climate change," when the USDA hemorrhages its workers when the agency is dragged halfway across the country, when I watch a major Texan House rep stake his career on trying to destroy the NSF, I think: this is what you people think of us. I think: how little scientists are valued as public workers. Why am I working this hard again?

This is why I described voting as harm reduction. Even if two candidates are "the same" on one thing you care about, they probably aren't the same level of bad on everything. Your task is to figure out the best person to do the job. It's not about a fucking tribalist horse race. A vote is your opinion on a job interview, you fucks. We have to work with this person.

Anyway, I'm probably going to go back to shaking quietly in despair for a little longer and then pick myself up and hit the grind again. If I'm fast, I might still get the grant in this miserable climate if I run, and I might get to actually keep on what I'm trying to do, which is bring research on sex differences, neurodivergence and energy balance as informed by non-binary gender perspectives and disability theory to neuroscience.

Fuck.

#us politics #science #biology #career #probably my last word on the subject for some time #but fuck yall when the government goes down i don't get paid and i have to go do something different #which generally is beholden to the interests of some rich private fucker #I'm just so fucking tired of feeling like i can relax and getting slammed in the face

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crheativity · 10 months ago

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This is my first time requesting here, so...

Hi! Mind if I send in a request? Hear me out: the track club bois, the basketball club bois and the spelldrive club bois getting a kiss on the cheek from the reader after a successful game/track meet

A KISS FOR THE VICTOR

SUMMARY: After a successful club meet, you give them a kiss on the cheek! How do they react?

WARNINGS: Some of these may be out of character (I’m sorry I still have no clue how to write Jack, Leona and Floyd)

COMMENTS: Hi! Sorry it’s taken me so long to get to this request, there were a lot of boys hehe! I hope you don’t mind but since there are a lot I did shorter headcanons instead of a full thing for each boy. Also, since I have no experience writing kisses yet, I just did their reactions. I hope that’s okay! This is such a cute prompt though, thank you so much for requesting it!!

Also, if you enjoy this, please consider checking out my 200 followers event!

If you'd like to read part 2 with the Pop Music club and Equestrian club, click here.

TRACK CLUB

Jack froze, his eyes going wide. He coughed into his fist and looked away, desperately trying to regain his composure. A herculean feat, considering how adorable you looked gazing up at him like that. He smiles at you hesitantly - a small, wavering smile, before his cheeks go pink and he turns away to talk to his teammates. Although it seems he does not care, a keen eye will notice how his ears won’t stop twitching and his tail keeps wagging.

Poor boy stopped responding immediately. He tripped on the sidewalk and almost fell over, he got so flustered. He can’t concentrate on anything now. He’s really sorry, he’s trying his best to listen to what you have to say, but his mind is replaying that kiss over and over… He can’t look you in the eye for the next few days. The moment he gets to crash in his room, he calls his mum. He briefly talked about his match, but mostly talked about you. How does he talk to you again after that?? He might be a little awkward over the next couple of days, but know that you’re constantly on his mind and in his heart.

BASKETBALL CLUB

Oh? You’re gonna give him a kiss? Well tough luck, he expects one every match from now on! So what if he doesn’t win? He wants one anyway! That’s how you can cheer him up after a match from now on! But in the moment, he’s picking you up and spinning you around. His face is very red - whether from the exercise or from you, it’s hard to tell, but the bright red ears are a dead giveaway. He’s not gonna forget what you did, and loves to remind you - in the hopes that you’ll do it again.

Time stops for him and he stares at you, dumbfounded. His face heats up and boy does he wish he had his hood right now. He can’t talk to you or face you for the next hour as he struggles to figure out what to say. He does however feel really smug. Everyone in the match did super well, but he was the only one who got a kiss! From you! Ha! …wait. He was the only one who got a kiss. From you. He’s confused and flustered all over again. Please confess to him before he goes insane.

Ehhh~? Shrimpy’s giving him a kiss? Only one on the cheek? Screw that, he’s gonna give you an actual kiss! And a squeeze to boot. The moment you give him a kiss he registers that kisses are okay in whatever relationship you and he have and boy is he gonna abuse that. What are the two of you? He doesn’t care as long as you don’t, but if he makes you uncomfortable then he wants to know. Like Ace, he’s going to be expecting one for every match now, but if you don’t give him a kiss for some reason that won’t stop him giving you one~!

SPELLDRIVE CLUB

You thought Ace was bad? Leona’s gonna be so much worse. He doesn’t tease you quite as much, but he’s going to be incredibly smug, both after the track meeting and for the next couple of weeks after. Please be prepared for suddenly more Leona in your life, as the moment you press a kiss to his cheek he’s going to take that as a rite of passage to be almost constantly around you. He will encourage you to ditch class with him as much as possible. He just wants to spend more time with you now, and after that kiss, surely that means you want that too, right?

Ruggie nervously laughs it off, his cheeks going bright pink as he fumbles for something to say. He honestly, genuinely wasn’t expecting it - you managed to catch him so off guard that he doesn’t quite know how to act. Ah, but he’s not upset! He’s exactly the opposite of that, if anything. Elated, maybe? Who cares, his crush just kissed him! He is going to be bragging so hard to Leona and anyone who’ll listen afterwards. Maybe he’ll start giving you a couple more snacks - with a kiss as payment of course! Shishishi.

LET’S FREAKING GOOO. wait. Did you just kiss me-? Epel was in such a good mood after his match that his brain didn’t fully register that you just kissed him. He takes a break from celebrating for a moment to double check. When you confirm that yes, in fact, you did kiss him, his cheeks go apple red and he starts celebrating way harder. Calm down? He can’t calm down, this is the best day of his life! He won a match and got a kiss from a cutie to boot! The only thing that makes him calm down a little is Vil threatening to smack him with his shoe.

♥Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed it!!♥

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yu-huuuu · 7 months ago

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Omg! I just read your Uchiha boyfriends and how they deal with their SO's period and I loved it! Sasuke's is hilarious!

Have you seen the video of a guy's gf teaching him and walking him through tampons via a tampon and a glass of water? That's ALL I was imagining during Sasuke's...XD

So, since that would be hilarious, could I ask for headcanons with the Uchiha bfs with that in mind? Or if that's too little context, maybe the period cramp simulators with how far they go before dropping to the floor in pain/how they treat their SO after that? I love your writing, binging all you have on Tumblr rn❤️👏🏻💙💜

[ 🌸 ] Lmaaao nonnie thanks and love u for asking this 😂😂

characters: itachi uchiha, obito uchiha, madara uchiha, sasuke uchiha, shisui uchiha

genre: fluffy with a touch of comedy

warnings: none, mentions of intimate moments, mention of tampons, menstrual cups, vaginas you know things from month to month, menstrual simulators, pranks, adult men somewhat traumatized by their girlfriends

…

Also add menstrual cups to the mix because I'm in love with them :>

oh, i think this video is the one nonnie is talking about! (It was also the first one that appeared to me 😂) ⭐️

…

Itachi Uchiha

— Several things will happen at the same time.

— His mind will go blank as his face turns slightly pale.

— And his eyes will open a bit as he watches the cotton transform Sailor Moon-style.

— Except there are no sparkles and cute outfits.

— No.

— Not at all.

— There is an abominable thing the size of his entire hand floating in the water.

— Itachi won't look at you the same way, especially when you're in the bedroom during one of those intimate moments.

— Even though you already told him it was just a joke, the poor man will be worried.

— He'll look at your hole wondering if it's okay inside (I promise it's okay, Itachi 💀).

— For your own good and for his... don't show him menstrual cups.

— He now knows that the tampon doesn't deform when it's inside you.

— But you have to fold a cup to put it into your tight hole and when it's inside it just... puff returns to its original shape and... are you okay…?

— No, bad idea.

— Just no.

— Don't show it to him.

— As for the menstrual cramp simulators...

— Haha

— You like to see him suffer, don't you?

— Look, pretty woman.

— There's something called being human.

— Itachi, despite being a shinobi, is human (a very cute one, by the way).

— And Itachi, like any other human, feels every sensation he experiences throughout the day. Sometimes he feels more than you, he just doesn't show it due to his perfect control over his emotions.

— But all that control goes out the window when you turn up the power on the cramp simulator.

— He stays like this: "😨," but it's so subtle you don't know if you're imagining it. Meanwhile, the poor man feels his stomach contracting with pain until his breath catches a bit.

— Itachi is a shinobi, but that doesn't mean he doesn't feel pain.

— He's used to a different kind of pain, not this one, you know?

— Poor thing.

— He won't look at you the same way after this... probably not at any woman.

— He'll drink his "respect for women" before starting or ending the day.

— He also now has some fear of touching you; sometimes you won't feel his touch completely when you're on those days (you tried to touch him to see if he was okay and all because you saw he was a bit pale, and he looked like he wasn't breathing when the simulator was at its maximum power. Don't worry, the poor guy was just too sensitive from the pain and now he thinks you get like that too, haha).

— In general, he won't change much. Well, now he brings you more sweets whenever he can and also makes bigger portions of food.

— He's also grateful to you because you've now given him a new experience and opened his eyes to topics or situations that, as a man, he never would have thought about, haha.

…

Obito Uchiha

—If your vagina is a muscle and it stretches with a tampon, does that mean you're exercising internally? (I don't think that happens, but good shower thought, Obito!)

—Pretty boy

—At first, he's very excited when you told him you wanted to show him something.

—He's like a little kid when you want to show him something.

—Except now it looks like you just told him Santa isn't real while taking away his Christmas present.

—He'll say something like: “Wait, that thing gets like that when it's inside you 😦?” while looking at the glass in horror.

—Congratulations, girl, you traumatized an innocent man, lmao.

—No, but seriously.

—Obito will now be distrustful of tampons.

—He might calm down, but then he'll get alarmed when he watches videos or reads about “how to insert a tampon in ten easy steps without pain.”

—And he'll be traumatized again when he sees how far you have to insert the tampon.

—What do you mean the string hangs out..?

—And then you have to pull it out?! Doesn't that hurt?

—Oh, don't get me started on menstrual cups.

—Just no.

—Never show your man the cups.

—No.

—Please, no.

—Just don't.

—At least he was excited when you showed him the period cramps simulator.

—The guy smiled until you turned on the device and he was just like.

—He asked you what level it was on, and when you told him it was on eight, he just said: “What do you mean eight? How many levels does it have?”

—You swear he's going to start crying thinking about all the times he had to run an errand or was called by the Hokage and had to leave you.

—He'll apologize almost crying as you increase the level.

—You can ask him what he means, but I advise you not to.

—You'll make him cry like a baby while he clings to you and apologizes for leaving you alone so many times, making you suffer all this pain *dramatic music starts playing*.

—Lmao.

—Obito will feel proud of you for facing this kind of thing every month.

—He might now say something like: “That's it, babe, fight those cramps!” while you're curled up in bed trying not to cry from the pain.

—It's not out of bad intentions, he's just trying to cheer you up the best he can, haha.

…

Madara Uchiha

—He will stare at the glass intently and then at you.

—Please do not interrupt his thoughts.

—He is imagining how the whole process happens.

—“Are you telling me that piece of cotton…”, and he can no longer continue while looking at the floating cotton.

—Just like Itachi, he won’t look at your little hole the same way.

—He will stay thoughtful, wondering if it returns to its normal form every time.

—It might kill the moment.

—Lmao.

—He might also offer his help to put a tampon in you.

—Just tell him yes.

—You will make him feel like he’s doing something important.

—With menstrual cups… mmm.

—He will congratulate you… for some reason.

—It’s not a big achievement, Madara, but we appreciate your words.

—He will look at you a little worried and at the same time proud while you fold the cup to insert it in yourself and he just…

—“That’s my woman, you can do anything, darling.”

—Uhh… yes, well,

—We’re talking about a man who grew up in a time of war, and don’t get me wrong, it’s not like he doesn’t know where the clitoris is.

—He simply doesn’t know and has no idea that the vagina is elastic, xd.

—Please explain it to him before he brags to someone about how you can handle everything.

—As for the menstrual cramps simulator:

—He is a strong man.

—Who said it would hurt him?

—Clearly, they’re out of their minds, he is Madara Uchiha.

—At least that’s what he thinks before you turn on the device.

—And he’s simply like: “What do you mean this is how you feel every month?”

—Madara is not dumb or forgetful.

—He has seen your naked body when you’re on those days.

—And suddenly it makes sense why your belly looks slightly more swollen when you’re menstruating.

—For Madara, it hurts slightly or at least that’s what he wants to imply.

—Maybe he will never tell you it hurt, but that’s okay.

—At least he took this experience as a lesson to know what else to do and how to act during those days of the month.

—“Madara, darling… why are there many more pillows on the bed?” “They’re for you to be more comfortable.”

—Poor man.

—At least he’s trying!

…

Sasuke Uchiha

—His worst enemy has returned.

—The tampons *dramatic music plays*.

—Ok, no.

—Anyway.

—You're so cruel, girl.

—He swears he'll burn all the tampons in the world while looking at the abominable thing floating in the water.

—He's like...

—Do you put that thing inside and it enlarge…?

—On the outside, his face will remain moderately calm (I'm joking, he already looks disturbed), but on the inside, his face is like: “💀”.

—Even if you tell him it's a joke, he won't shake that image from his head.

—For a whole week, he thought your vagina was filled with tiny cotton residues for some reason.

—Until you explained that was impossible.

—(He still thinks that to this day). Anyway!

—Ehh, cups...! They're fun and comfortable things!

—Until you see them from a man's perspective and things change.

—No, please, no.

—He can't imagine a CUP inside you.

—Out of curiosity, he looked up menstrual cups on the internet and now swears he'd burn menstrual cups too if he could (cups can't hurt you, Sasuke).

—Anyway.

—As for the simulators...

—He might refuse at first until he starts thinking about how he could benefit from this (you know, new knowledge, more power).

—So he decides to put himself in his girl's shoes to see the whole picture.

—He began to regret it when you raised the intensity to seven.

—His face might turn pale when you explain that some menstrual cramps feel like labor pains.

—He'll stare at the highest intensity level wondering if he's ready for that.

—Spoiler: he wasn't.

—At least now he buys you more ice cream and makes you hot chocolate with marshmallows on top, even though he hates the smell of chocolate.

—He'll also start reading more about the female body, looking for ways and methods to make it hurt less.

—So it's likely he'll now regulate the amount of black foods and drinks you consume (you know: chocolate, coffee, cola, etc.), all because he read in a study that black-colored beverages and foods are a key factor in intensifying cramps during the period.

—Good luck with your boyfriend being more protective than ever ;)

…

Shisui Uchiha:

—"Do you want to show me something...? Sure! What is it?" he'll ask with the most innocent and soft voice, that you'll wonder if it's too cruel to play this prank on him.

—Poor guy.

—You do it anyway.

—Lmao, I think there's no emoji that describes the face he made in those moments.

—When he composes himself, he'll be torn between looking at you and the glass container.

—Because gosh.

—Does that thING really react like that when it's inside you?

—Before, he was fine with seeing you use them.

—He knows it's much more comfortable for you, but now that he sees it in the container...

—He doesn't know what to think.

—The guy is still terrified.

—Poor thing, his soul left his body and greeted God before returning to you.

—He might laugh a little when you tell him it's a joke while trying to act normal.

—But eventually his imagination will fly and he'll start thinking: "What if it gets stuck?" "What if the string breaks?" (It's impossible for that to happen, Shisui).

—Of course, he's a smart guy.

—He'll practically run to investigate more about tampons until his mind is at ease.

—But accidentally he saw menstrual cups and...

—"What do you mean cups are also inserted?" he half yelled into nothing.

—Oops.

—You'll have to explain.

—"Cups are friends, not enemies, Shisui..." "But what if it gets stuck?"

—You swear he's about to cry.

—Luckily!

—He'll get over it in a few days (it lasted a week and another while he tried to recap what happened, and the new information).

—The cramp simulator is great.

—It can last quite a while, you know, smiling and looking handsome as always, until you raise it to maximum power.

—You think you broke something when suddenly it falls and you think you killed it.

—Oh.

—Don't worry!

—He's just suffering and recapping how all of this happened, also about all the pain you go through month after month and... Oh, is that an angel...? (No, Shisui, it's your girlfriend trying to motivate you to get up).

—Well.

—At the end of the day he thinks the same as Itachi; you've shown him the other side of the coin and he's grateful for that.

—He'll also be much gentler with you during these days of the month.

—And for some reason, if he finds out that Sasuke is not in favor of tampons and cups, they may secretly start a group against those things or something similar, it's also possible that they'll drag Itachi by force.

—Lmao.

lmao, guess who search and watch videos about how to put tampons in her for the first time... and it didn't work 😭

#naruto #naruto shippuden #naruto scenarios #itachi x reader #itachi uchiha #madara uchiha x reader #madara uchiha #madara x reader #obito uchiha x reader #obito x reader #obito uchiha #shisui x reader #uchiha shisui x reader #shisui uchiha x reader #uchiha sasuke x reader #sasuke uchiha x reader #sasuke x reader #sasuke uchiha

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covetyou · 6 months ago

Text

stars and stripes

ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader rating: Explicit (18+ only!) warnings: nipple play, novelty underwear, balls, anxiety, democracy, the pledge of allegiance, friendly brotherly contest, alcohol, prelude to oral sex (m! receiving) word count: 5k summary: Roles are reversed this Fourth of July when you surprise Joel with a little festive treat of your own.

A/N: happy 4th of July to folks in the US and happy general election day to my fellow UK pals! If you haven't exercised your right to vote yet, and you're registered, you have until 10pm BST tonight to get to your polling station - as long as you're in line by 10pm, you'll be able to vote. do dress up Joel proud, and go do a democracy.

I make absolutely no apologies for anything in this fic. not a single thing. especially not that thing. tis the season. happy ballidays, pals!

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As it turned out, Joel knew a guy who knew a guy who could fix your AC, and within two days your house was a safe haven from the burgeoning Texas summer.

Easy as that, apparently. Your desperate attempts to call around HVAC companies the week your AC busted seemed stupid now that it was all a matter of simply knowing a guy.

Not that it was all easy. Letting someone else into your house after everything that had gone on suddenly felt scary, and it took Joel promising you he'd dip from his own job for the afternoon to keep an eye on things for you to feel okay with any of it.

But, even that left an odd feeling in the pit of your stomach.

You'd told him to let himself in, though this time you'd given him a key, and that felt like something. For as many times as he'd broken in, and for as long as you'd left your house open and vulnerable - and, by extension, yourself - handing over your spare keys to Joel for the day felt more vulnerable than you'd ever felt with him wandering your house at unknown hours of the day and night.

It felt like something all over again when you handed them over to him the next week too - there was a jammed drawer he wanted to fix, and he said he could get in to see to it before work one day.

Even when you opened the door to him on the nights he didn't have Sarah - his daughter, you'd learned - it felt like something. Especially knowing that that spare key now sat attached to his own, jingling in his pocket each time he walked into your home, invited.

And the more somethings it felt like, the less you felt like figuring it out.

It continued the same way for weeks. Him moving back and forth the short distance between his home and yours, while you stayed safely cocooned in your own, cool, four walls.

Then, barely one month into this officially unofficial something that you were, it was finally time for you to make that short journey down the street to Joel's.

Being honest, the thought of it had terrified you, and you'd almost backed out multiple times.

Not because it was Joel, or Joel's house - at least, that's what you told yourself - but because a "the whole neighborhood is invited, bring snacks or beer" type of Fourth of July party wasn't the kind of way you'd envisioned your first time in Joel's home. You figured maybe it'd be dinner, or a movie, or a quick fuck against the stairs with Joel's balls trussed up in something. Normal things.

Not loud peopley things.

Still, you readjust your top once more, take the briefest of glances in the mirror, and head out the door anyway, nerves be damned. You can totally handle a Fourth of July BBQ at Joel's house.

You think you can all the way up to Joel's driveway, when the nerves come back with a vengeance and you stand there, feeling sick, listening to the sounds of people and music coming from the backyard.

You try to tell yourself it all makes sense. It's a new place, a place that should mean so much because it's his, but try as you might you can't fight back the panic rising as you think of the very many faces that are going to be in this new place too. Familiar faces, faces you'd seen most days as you went about your life down this street you called home, people you'd shared small talk with and said good morning to almost every day as you left for work.

Then there's this stupid outfit you're wearing. The you from weeks ago chose it the very same day you said yes to Joel's invitation, and the you of today didn't have the energy or inclination to think of anything else. Wear whatever, Joel had said, it's just a casual thing. So, you'd gone for casual.

Braless is casual, right?

Not that that was a specific choice, more a necessity. You'd chucked the third bra on the floor in a huff, cursing your shitty outfit choice and lack of bra to fit it, and instead decided to stick on some nipple pasties and be done with it.

All that's done now, and now here you are, still standing like an idiot in the driveway, closer to Joel's home than you have ever been, psyching yourself up to go inside.

With a deep breath of the dry Texas heat, you head for the open back gate, the soft sound of your shoes on the paving stones so loud in your ears as everything wooshes and fizzes in your head.

It's somehow both better and worse than your expectations.

You're immediately greeted by a sea of recognizable faces, the bottle of wine you forgot you were even holding whisked out of your hand and taken inside before you can even get your first round of hello's in. You don't have much of a chance to be nervous, or self conscious, or any of the things you'd worried about being in the days leading up to being here, because there's just so much of everything around you. Noises, smells, people.

Everything, except for Joel. You've not caught a single look at him since you got here - minutes ago - and you wonder if he's even here and not relaxing back at your place on the couch.

Then you see him. At least, you think it's him. His back is to you, locked into conversation so fierce he hasn't noticed the commotion about your entrance.

You think it's him, but you're also certain you don't know of anyone else who would dress head to toe in red, white, and blue candy stripes. The sight of it makes you forget your own outfit worries as a grin forms on your face, and that familiar rumbling of something in the pit of your stomach comes back all over again.

"Not eyein' the very slightly younger model, are you?" comes a gruff voice that has you twisting rapidly on the spot, the smile barely given chance to fall from your face when you spot the actual, real life Joel standing right there next to you, cold beer in hand.

In your own defence, real life Joel isn't dressed much better than the other Joel stood over the other side of the yard. He's probably dressed worse, actually. He's head to toe in stars, all the way from the novelty headband on his head to the flashing star lights clipped to his shoes. It's gaudy, and camp, and so perfectly Joel that the smile that dipped from your face for all of half a second is back, and you're grinning up at him, that feeling in your belly violently boiling away now that he's right there.

"Oh, him?" you say with a wave of your hand. "Nah. He's like a dollar store version of you."

"Really? I'll be sure to tell Tommy he's Dollar Store Joel from now on. He'll love that. Hey, Tommy!" he calls over the yard, before slipping his free hand behind your back. "C'mon. Let me introduce y'all."

He guides you over, hand never leaving the small of your back, touching you out here in front of all these people as if you are actually officially the kind of something that everyone should know about. And maybe you are.

But then, you're looking into familiar friendly eyes, so similar to the ones you've been staring into and dreaming of since Christmas, and watching this familiar strangers face light up so brightly you briefly wonder if his joy is misplaced until he's wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug.

"Shit, he weren't lying," says Tommy as he rocks on his feet with you in his arms before releasing and looking down at you. "You are real."

Before Joel can land a firm whack to Tommy's shoulder, Tommy's pulling you in for another hug, telling you how nice it is to finally meet you, because he's heard all about you, dropping in a few choice words about his asshole brother here and there as he chatters to you, and Joel, and even himself.

At some point, whether it's during the fourth hug or the eighteenth, you're not sure, Joel slips off to grab you a drink, leaving you with his bizarrely dressed brother.

"Ain't never seen him smile so much without Sarah around," he says, the moment Joel's out of earshot, giving you a nudge and another fond smile. "Y'know, I think he might like you."

"Mm, I think I might like him too."

Small talk with Tommy is easy - the man's a talker, if you ever met one. He's a charmer too, and if you met him in a bar you might think he'd be coming on to you with the way he so attentively talks to you, only directing his attention elsewhere for the briefest of moments.

"What's with the outfits?" you eventually ask, with a flick to his striped top hat. "Joel never said it was a dress up party."

"Oh it ain't, this is just a family tradition. Dad always used to dress up in dumb shit for the holidays, make us laugh, and it just sorta stuck. 'Course, added in some friendly competition over the years too, and then this," he says with a dramatic sweep down his body, "was born."

"Competition?"

"Mhm. Joel'll tell you, won't you brother?" Tommy says with a wink over your head before ducking sideways to raid the snack table.

"What am I s'posed to tell you?" he says, handing you your drink, letting his fingers linger near yours and stroke a trail of burning heat gently up your arm before falling back to his pocket.

"The competition."

"S'easy. Stars or stripes," Joel points to himself, decked out in stars and then to his brother where he stands loudly chatting to yet more guests in his candy stripes. "You gotta pick. Most votes, wins."

"I've got to pick?"

"'s the rules, darlin'."

"So you want me to pick between you, or some costumed guy I don't know - a practical stranger?" you say, with a glint in your eye, watching Joel's face drop in faux offence.

"You wouldn't."

"Don't underestimate me, Joel. I think you know exactly what I'm capable of."

Your eyes meet in a silent stalemate, the glint in your eye never leaving as Joel bites at his cheek to hold back a laugh. Tommy was right - you do like Joel, some days too much, and moments like right now, you think maybe it's reciprocated, and you like him just the right amount.

Poking him in the chest, finger pressed to the middle of one of the sea of stars decorating his body, you let yourself break first. "Stars, Joel. I pick stars."

With a roll of his eyes, and a kiss pressed lightning quick to the side of your head, Joel's hand winds back around your back.

"Thank fuck for that. Let's get you a votin' card so you can make that official."

⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆

As the evening draws on, you think you've talked to just about everyone in your street several times over, and then some. It also turns out that Joel and Tommy take their little competition very seriously, and always have, if your neighbors are to be believed.

By the time the votes have been counted and Joel in his star spangled outfit is declared the winner, Tommy has sunk to his knees, his hat toppled off in his despair as he hangs his head in shame.

You're still listening to them bicker as you sneak off to use the bathroom, their voices only disappearing when you've slid the patio door shut and taken your first official step into Joel's house.

"The headband swung it."

"The headband is Sarah's, and your massive skull is breakin' it..."

Even through the mess of the party, you can see that this place is distinctly Joel, with hints of a 10 year old girl dotted around the place. From the pictures on the wall to the cushions on the sofa - mostly a rich navy, but one soft pink nestled in with the blue - through to small ornamental carvings on a side table and the drawings stuck on the refrigerator.

You're looking at one - not a masterpiece by any means, but very decent attempt at a bluebonnet - when the pressure inside the house changes again with the slide of the door.

It's Joel, arms laden with bottles, and the headband flopping forward pathetically on his head. "You snuck off quick," he says, dumping the bottles onto the counter. "Get lost findin' the bathroom?"

"Distracted. Never had chance to sneak around your house looking at your shit before," you quip with a smile, trying to get comfortable with the very uncomfortable thing that brought you two together in the first place.

"Then shoes off. Lemme take you upstairs, give you a little tour, and you can use the bathroom up there. Probably in a better state than the one down here now anyway."

He holds your hand in his all the way up the stairs. That something rears its head again, igniting your palm where it meets his, your brain not registering a single word he says as he points to various doors before dragging you through one, into his bedroom.

His lips are on yours immediately - or yours are on his. You can't quite work out who started it, you just know that you're a tangle as your hands roam each other, biting and licking kisses into each others mouths. His hand finds your ass, and you're moaning as he presses you forward, into him, and the soft lump in his pants. You want to grind yourself against him, but the angle isn't right, and a nagging forgotten thing is worming through your brain when Joel pushes your bodies together once more.

Oh. Right. You remember now.

"Joel - mmph - Joel," you say with urgency through his kisses. He pulls back, searching your face with panic and a pinched brow. "I really gotta pee."

With a kiss to your forehead he lets you go, pushing you toward his ensuite. When you exit a few minutes later, he's exactly where you left him, stood with his hands in his pockets, looking sheepish as he possibly ever could.

"I'm glad you came," he says, looking at you and setting that something off roaring through your body again.

"Me too. I... I've had a nice time."

"Just wanted you to know I didn't invite you here just for, y'know," he says, with a gesture to his bed. "Didn't bring you in here for it either. Just, sorta missed you. Not used to not bein' alone with you. It's weird sharin' you."

You don't want to remind him you've barely left each others sides all night. You don't want to draw too much attention to the something, just in case you scare it away.

"Damn. Got nothing for me? Nothing at all?" you joke instead.

"Got nothin'. Nothin' planned anyway," he says with a look around the room, his eyes focussing briefly on a drawer before flicking back to you.

Really, you should be leaving space between you and Joel. Space for the something to flourish, space that is just enough to not magnetize your body to his, smashing yourselves together and turning the nothing into something. What you should do doesn't have the power to stop your feet from slowly pulling you toward him again though. And it doesn't stop you from putting both your hands on his chest when you finally reach him.

"No? Got no magic tricks up your sleeve? I was hoping for a wand or a rabbit or somethin', you do look like you ran away from the circus."

"I'll have you know this shirt is the finest polyester you can find at Party City."

"Mm, sounds sweaty."

"Like you wouldn't believe."

"So you're sweaty and gross, and you have nothing to wow me with? I'm starting to wonder why you invited me." Which is a lie. You know why, and so does he, and you're glad for it, even if it still frightens you to think about it too much. You suspect he knows an awful lot more about you than you've told him. He's perceptive like that.

"Maybe I'm retractin' your invite."

"You wouldn't."

"No?"

"What if I've got a little something for you instead, am I still invited now?"

Joel's eyes light up and soften all at once, turning so bright and sparkling you think he might cry. It's not exactly that you've never done anything for him in the ways he has for you. When he mentioned his favorite snack, you got some in the house for nights you spend watching a movie before devolving into fucking on the floor. You bought new lingerie, which only ever stayed on if it was too difficult to get out of, and once or twice he'd caught you wearing the heart shaped butt plug before leaping on you and pounding you into whatever surface was nearest, thumb pressing down on the base and making you see stars.

Still, for all you had done, you never swapped positions in the little game you'd been playing with each other for over seven months. Each time, he was the one who came to you with some silly thing or trick or toy to tease you with, and each time you loved it. You hoped he would love this too.

"You do?"

"Mhm," you say as you put some distance between the two of you again. Space to breath, space to move, space to let the something calm back down into the pit of your stomach and curl in on itself like a cat settling down to sleep.

Your let your fingers glide up your body, gently pulling your skirt for a moment before they coast up your belly and reach your shirt, flirting with the hem before curling around it and tugging, letting your tits jiggle behind the fabric.

With a final soft tug, you peel the fabric up your body, the swell of your breasts spilling out the bottom of your top.

"Holy shit, baby," he says, a whisper of a moan on his lips. His eyes have been glued to you, wide and curious, ever since you suggested you may have something for him. And now, they're darting from your chest to your face then back down, taking in the sight of your covered nipples.

You had made some choices earlier today, in your nervous state. Going braless was only one of them. The pasties too, were another. And then, there was the shape. You has flowers, hearts, circles, straight tape and, finally, stars. It was a no brainer when you'd rifled through the packet for two that matched that white stars were the perfect choice for today. It'd only really occured to you when Joel had worn his own stars, that you were perhaps better matched today than you thought, that maybe you could have your own little game with him for once.

"Told you I was all in on the stars."

"Damn right you are," he says as he approaches, his hands finding their place on your waist, itching to move upward. "They don't hurt?"

"They're just pasties, Joel. They're soft. Feel."

And fuck, does he feel. His hands cup you, gently squeezing the softest part of your breast before letting his thumbs dance across where the pucker of your nipple should be. The sensation is muted, infuriatingly muffled by the feel of the pasties covering you.

"S'good?"

"Imagine I stroked your dick over your pants. It's good but it's not the same."

"Damn," he curses, thumbs still gently rubbing over your nipples, watching them slowly come to life and prickling beneath the coverings. "They come off easy?"

"Like a bandaid."

"Shit."

And you just know what he's thinking, because you're thinking it too. There's no real way you can take them off right now and let Joel have his way with your nipples like you're both desperate for, even if time and the swathe of people downstairs wasn't an issue. You have nothing else to cover up with and the soft breeze combined with the cold drinks and the age of some of the guests here means it's probably not a good idea to go without them.

That doesn't stop Joel from kissing you again though, more restrained than he has any right to be with your tits in his hands. You know from his frustrated groan when you bite at his bottom lip that he's two seconds away from telling everyone the parties over, only to come back up here and continue with a party for just two.

To your surprises, he pulls your top back down. Not before kissing one breast, then the other, then back to the first. You know he wants to sink his face into them, but he doesn't let himself, and he rises from his crouch with a groan and pulls you out of the room.

"Don't show Tommy," Joel whispers to you as you make your way back down the stairs. "He'll say the contest was rigged."

"Damn, I was so hoping to show your brother my nipples."

⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆

Joel's eyes keep flicking to your chest for the rest of the night. More than once he drags you away inside, either upstairs or into the garage, just to ask you to show him one more time. If you weren't covered, your nipples would have been rubbed and pinched raw by his eager fingers by now, just as your lips were swollen by his eager mouth.

By the time it's all over, you're positively exhausted, propping yourself up on the arm of a chair and talking to Tommy as Joel waves off the last of the guests and closes the back gate.

You had barely left his side all night, and if anyone had anything to say about it, you hadn't heard it. Neither had Joel. And Tommy, a clever man when he wanted to be, hadn't made a single joke about it either. All in all, it was as much of a successful day than you could hope for, initial nerves aside.

Tommy, continuing to be a clever man, doesn't put up much of a fight when you offer to be the one to stay behind and help clear up. Of course, he's already gone around and collected most of the trash, and put the leftover food inside, but he relents at your insistence he head home - you do only live down the street after all.

Neither you or Joel get much further with the cleaning. Once trash bags are dumped in the garage and you've both washed up, his hands are back under your top, damp fingers cupping your breasts and pulling you back into him.

"Stay?" he asks, as if there was any other ending to this night, as if Tommy hadn't left precisely for this reason.

You barely agree by the time his mouth is latched onto your neck, drawing unrestrained moans out of you right there in the kitchen now that you're finally alone.

His hands, of course, find their way back up to your top, stroking over the edge of the pasties once more.

"You really like 'em, huh?" you ask as his thumb brushes the edge of one, starting to curl and pull the point of one of the stars.

"Like that we match. Feel like you picked 'em for me," he mumbles into your neck, releasing one breast and tucking his hand into the waistband of your skirt. "Like that I've had somethin' to think about, somethin' to play with, even with all these people here."

Fuck, if you haven't liked that too. Letting him play had been one of the highlights of your night so far. Being manhandled into the garage, giggling and pushing Joel as he clasped his hands together in a plea to please see your tits. The souvenir love bite you'd let him suck into your left breast after dragging you back upstairs for a second time. You'd spent half the night flipping between Joels hands and mouth on your tits, to being dragged back out to socialize. Your pussy had given up trying to regulate itself after the third session of Joel's teasing, and you'd spent the rest of the evening wet and waiting.

This is a fact he finds out now, as he slides his hand down over your mound to cup you over your panties. You both let out the same curse as he presses and wiggles his fingers back and forth over you, rubbing your clit over your underwear. You had hoped to peel the pasties off before you fucked him, giving him full access to your nipples for the first time tonight, but you don't think you're going to make it that far, not now his hand is pulling your panties aside, feeling for the slick wetness between your lips and dragging it up, up, up to swirl around your clit.

Not a second later you're scaling the stairs for what you know will be the final time that day, this time you dragging Joel as you both kick of your shoes and stumble up the steps. You already ache from all the standing, and if you have it your way, your legs are going to be shaking and trembling too much for the rest of the night to possibly be of use to you.

With his door pushed open, left wide now the house is empty, you pull yourself back into him, only for him to slip his still wet finger between your lips, letting you taste yourself before he captures your mouth, licking your taste from your own tongue.

Then, your hands find his chest, that ridiculous shirt, and pull at it, tugging the fabric taught to his body, eager to get it off and tumble into his sheets with him.

You were right about how sweaty he'd be under the shirt when you finally get your fingers on the buttons, working your way down until you can pull it off. He's shining underneath it, the dark hair of his body slicked down as you drag your hands up over his chest, to his shoulders and then down to his belt.

He suddenly stops you, pulling your hands away, pressing kiss after kiss to your mouth as he fumbles with the buckle. In a huff, after a few failed, distracted, attempts, he pushes you away and pulls off his belt before unzipping his pants.

Joel has barely tugged them down his legs when you're staring wide eyed, howling with laughter, staring directly at his cock. Only, this time, it stares back.

At least, the bald eagle on the front of his boxers does.

"What are those?"

"Nothin'," Joel says, covering himself and trying to tug his boxers over his erection with one hand still trying to pull off his pants. Grabbing his hands, you stop him, pleading as you tug them away from his crotch.

"Show me."

"Look, s'nothin. Just another stupid thing Tommy got me and I thought it'd be funny but..."

"Sure looks like you got somethin' there for me. All this time you were sayin nothin'. Don't tell me you're getting shy on me now. C'mon. Please."

You pout, trying desperately to get him to give in when you have an idea and you're tugging your top off over your head and throwing it to the side, brandishing your star covered nipples to him once more.

"Pretty please," you say with a small shimmy, and Joel's hand immediately falls away, coming up instead to cover his eyes with a sigh.

It's a sight to behold. Really, it is. The eagle is staring back at you once again, still bolstered by Joel's solid length and the heft of his balls behind it. What you hadn't noticed before is it's sitting on a canvas of United States flag, stars and stripes covering his thighs, his hips, his ass.

"Oh wow. Joel those are -" you cough out a laugh "- those are amazing."

He's rolling his eyes. You can hear it in his voice and see it in his posture. "Yeah, real funny, I know."

"No, I like them. Very festive. And y'know what," you say, cupping his cock right over the eagle print of his boxers as you clear your throat. "I pledge allegiance -"

"No, don't you d-"

"- to these balls -"

"Stop."

"- and the cock they sit under -"

"Oh my god," he says, fighting through a laugh, your fingers squeezing and massaging as you pledge yourself, whole heartedly, to the appendage in your hand.

" - one - uh, cock and balls? Is there even a collective word for cock and balls? - under Joel -"

"It's just gettin' worse."

"- definitely indivisible, no divisible balls here - "

"You're killin' me."

"- say it with me now - with liberty and justice for balls."

You try to keep a straight face as you finish. Really you do. But as Joel's whole body shakes and ripples, his balls jiggling in your hand as laughter wracks through him, you can't help but fall into him, letting yourself be propped up by him as you crumple in on yourself in delight.

"You callin' my balls Liberty and Justice now?" Joel finally says through a laugh.

You slide a finger up the leg of his boxers, pulling gently on them as you stare down at the flag adorning his ass and balls.

"Yep. You're Star Spangled Joel with your side kicks, Liberty and Justice."

You give his balls a little squeeze again as you name them.

"Now that you pledged your allegiance, you gonna keep yappin' or you gonna prove it?"

But it's too late, because you're already sinking to your knees, right there in his bedroom, a place you both know you're going to wake up in the morning, wrapped in each other as the sunlight peeks through the curtains.

"Just try to stop me."

next part

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#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #pedro pascal characters #coveted fics #big bawl jawl #never forget the balls #fic: dress up joel

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adrienneleclerc · 7 months ago

Note

Heyy can you write an oneshot of charles dating andrea (his personal trainer) daughter and how andrea would react

Ooh YES!! Imagine the drama, I love it. I hope this is what you wanted and if I wasn’t, hope you liked it anyway!

My Trainer’s Daughter

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Ferrari! Reader

Summary: Charles is dating Y/N Ferrari, the daughter of Andrea, in secret

Warning: spelling and grammatical errors.

A/N: i have loved getting requests from everyone, feel free to request any more ideas. And yes, the title is unoriginal, I know, I couldn’t think of anything.

The day Charles met Y/N Ferrari was a day he would never forget. It was when he was doing his winter training for the 2023 F1 season. He was supposed to meet Andrea at the training camp so he was surprised when he saw a woman he has never seen before on the treadmill.

“Excuse me, did you know you are trespassing?” Charles asked, Y/N stopped her treadmill and took off her headphones.

“Che cosa?” Y/N asked

“Stai sconfinando, vattene prima che chiami la sicurezza.” Charles threatened in Italian. The woman rolled her eyes and when Charles was about to say something, Andrea appeared.

“Ah Charles, i see you have met my daughter, Y/N.” Andrea said, gesturing at Y/N who smiled like she has won.

“I didn’t know you had a daughter. What is she doing here?” Charles asked.

“She was in Italy, I haven’t seen her since she moved out so I invited her. I hope you don’t mind.” Andrea said.

“But I’m supposed to film some shots for my blog.” Charles said.

“Calmati, bambola, i promise not to get in the way. You could always crop me out if that’s what you want.” Y/N said.

“Oh so you do speak English.” Charles said.

“Yeah I do,” Y/N said.

“Okay, let’s focus on your training, Charles. You’re doing great, cuore, ti amo.” Andrea said.

“Ti amo anch’io papà.” Y/N said, before she put on her headphones and continued to run on the treadmill.

Charles was staring at the woman, she was as fiery as she was beautiful. There were moments where he had to stop himself from staring too much because he was positive that Andrea would kill him. Y/N didn’t fall far behind, she was also staring at Charles during certain exercises, who wouldn’t stare at the beautiful monegasque? Both finished their exercises after 2 hours (I’m assuming)

“Great work, Charles. Y/N, you want to go grab food?” Andrea asked.

“Sure, papà, let me just pack my things. They have a shower her?” Y/N asked.

“Yes. Charles, show her please, I have to change and get my wallet from my room.” Andrea left the hotel gym which just leaves Charles and Y/N.

“Sorry about threatening you. It’s just this gym was booked for my session so when I saw you here, I thought you were a fan.” Charles explained.

“A fan on the treadmill? Why the hell would a fan be on the treadmill if they so desperately wanted to meet you?” Y/N asked.

“I Don’t know, to appear normal. Anyway, I’m sorry, I had no idea Andrea was your father.” Charles said.

“Don’t worry about it, bambola.” Y/N said.

“Why do you call me bambola?” Charles asked.

“Because you have a pretty face like a doll, hence the name bambola. These are the showers?” Y/N asked, pointing to the door.

“Yep, these are the showers.” Charles said,

“Alright, thank you, I’ll see you around Charles.” Y/N said, before entering the shower room.

“See you around, Y/N.” Charles said.

From that moment on, every time Charles had a training session with Andrea, Y/N would always be there. There were moments where Y/N and Charles would hang out alone and one of those hang outs led to a very important question.

“Would you like to go on a date with me?” Charles asked as Y/N was eating her pasta. She finished chewing and swallowed.

“I’m sorry, can you repeat that?” Y/N asked.

“Would you like to go on a date with me? A proper date.” Charles clarified.

“Oh bambola, my dad would kill you. His top client going out with his daughter? Can you imagine the drama that would ensue?” Y/N asked.

“Which is why it will be a secret.” Charles said.

“A secret? Oh yeah, because that always turns out so well,” Y/N commented sarcastically.

“Think about it, we can go out on a few date, if it doesn’t work out, we never have to tell Andrea.” Charles said.

“Okay, I can live with that, my dad would never have to know.” Y/N said.

“What do you mean he would never have to know? Are you saying you’re positive this won’t work out?” Charles asked.

“You literally said the same thing!” Y/N exclaimed.

“I was convincing you to go out with me!” Charles exclaimed back.

“Fine, we’ll go out. Tomorrow night sound alright for you?” Y/N asked.

“Yes it does.” Charles said.

Well that first date turned out to be such a success that they have actually been dating for 4 months which means it was time to tell Andrea. They were in the gym, Andrea was sitting down, scrolling on his phone.

“Good morning, Andrea, are you ready?” Charles asked.

“I am but i have one question.” Andrea stated. Charles nodded for him to continue. “Why the hell were you on a yacht with my daughter?” Andrea asked and shoved the phone in Charles’s face. “Care to explain?”

“That’s what we are here to tell you. Charles and I have been dating for 4 months.” Y/N said.

“Four months?!? And you’re telling me now?!?” Andrea exclaimed.

“I wanted to know if we would work first, he’s not really my type.” Y/N said.

“Excuse me, I’m not your type?” Charles asked offendedly.

“I’m trying to make him feel better, chill out bambola.” Y/N said turning to face Charles. She then faces her dad. “But charles has been a perfect gentleman. He holds the door open for me, he carries my bags when we go shopping, picks me up with flowers when we go on dates, he’s a great guy, papà.” Y/N said. Andrea stands up and goes over to Charles.

“If you hurt my little girl..” Andrea started

“I won’t, sir, I swear, I would rather quit Ferrari than hurt Y/N.” Charles said.

“Good answer. Now let’s get to training.” Andrea said

The moment Andrea found out they were dating, it was hilarious. Charles’s training sessions became more difficult.

“Can’t have my princess dating a weak man, now can i?” Andrea says and Y/N just watches as her father tortures her boyfriend. After Charles’s workout, Y/N goes to him.

“How you feeling, bambola?” Y/N asked him, rubbing his back.

“I’m fine, ma belle, your father is right, if I’m going to be your boyfriend and protect you, i can’t be weak.” Charles said,

“Ha ha, get up so we can get some food.” Y/N said,

When they travelled together, Andrea would give them a curfew, not just because of the race events Charles had, but because he’s such a protective dad.

“I want you two back here by midnight.” Andrea said.

“Yes papà.” Y/N said,

“Yes sir.” Charles said before the two left the hotel to go somewhere. “Your dad took us dating way better that I thought.”

“Tell me about it. I guess it comes with you two knowing each other for a long time since you started F1.” Y/N said.

“You’re right. So Mon ange, am I your type now?” Charles asked and Y/N laughed.

“My god, bambola, let that go already.” Y/N said, charles laughed with her until she placed her hands on the back of his neck. “You have always been my type, I like boy with brown fluffy hair and blue green eyes.”

“And I like girls with (your color) hair and (your color) eyes.” Charles said before they kissed. “Can’t believe I’m dating my trainer’s daughter.”

“And I can’t believe I’m dating an F1 driver. I am wishing you luck on tomorrow’s qualifying session.” Y/N said,

“As long as your there, my good luck charm, I’m sure quali will go well.” Charles said, they kissed again before walking to a little bar near the hotel.

The End

Hope y’all liked it. I thought it turned out well

#charles leclerc x reader #my trainers daughter #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x you #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #charles leclerc #f1 fanfic

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deadghosy · 11 months ago

Text

HAZBIN HOTEL X CAELUS! READER

prompt: you were found digging in their trash and they took you in

(I got covid😭 so me posting xreader will be kinda slow)

You were digging for some food ever since you fell from heaven because you kept fighting people over trash…I mean damn reader…

You fell with a blank look as you had a rotten banana in your mouth as you looked down to see pentagram city…so what did you do? You pulled out your fire sword and slash the ground to soften your fall which worked. You changed it to a bat for protection as you found a dumpster!

CHA-CHING✨ MORE TRASHHHH

You dig in the dumpster not hearing a person whistling. The person dropped the garbage bag shocked to see a….? Whatever you are digging in the dumpster. Your face was completely dirty as you lift it up to show you found a cool old watch.

Charlie didn’t know what to do. Are you homeless? Is what she thought as she takes you out the garbage as you blankly stare at her “•_•” “uhm sweetie are you okay?” “……” “not much of a talker huh…” you just stayed quiet as Charlie introduced herself and shook your hand bringing you to the hotel so you can have a place to stay.

I feel like you were a new angel and only stayed for like 1 month…(free trial ass shit…) and so when you didn’t act holy and proper. That’s why you mostly got kicked out

Vaggie will know you are an angel because of your angelic look and golden eyes as you just stand there minding your business. You tell her you fell because you fought over your treasure….your trash practically. So Vaggie tells you what happened to her and you hugged her making her feel safe about herself a bit.

You two have matching bracelets you made from an exercise Charlie did.

Okay I headcannon that Lucifer is already in the hotel living with his daughter. And he felt your presence and he would be like. “Fuck are you doing here”🤨 “I fought for my life.”

Vox one time put you on air with him because of your golden shining eyes….i think he was flirting with you as you ate some gift cookies he made for you…

Velvette tried to make you a model, but you kept wandering off somehow. Literally she got tired of you but never of your face as she at least posted you wearing some nice 2000 makeup

Carmilla had a gut feeling about you being an angel. She wanted to kill you but then you gave her a ring you found in a dumpster because you said she reminded you of your earth mother/parent. Yeah she wanted to adopt you

You help sir Pentious, or who you call penny for his project builds. You dig in dumpster’s, trash bins, and garbage dumps

Angel dust and you sometimes just be on your phones all the time which is obnoxious. But hey, I don’t make the rules. Being on your phone makes it seem like you don’t want to be talked to which is true.

Lucifer made you a duck as he notciced how lonely you are….(you don’t give a fuck, you only need trash as your friends) so Lucifer made you 20 ducks that are based on your favorite things or like idk just ducks

The egg boiz follow you around as you literally calling you the, “TRASH BOSS!” Not in a bad way more like in admiration as you give them stuff from the garbage.

Your golden eyes shining in the night scaring husk as he didn’t even see you in his hind sight. Like he is a cat, but he didn’t even see you?!

You and alastor’s both eat weird things, like he is a cannibal….and for you..either trash or just normal weird food combos

Alastor would definitely try to get you to eat cannibal meat, but to be honest you can tell the difference between human and regular meat. You always know.

Niffty is the kind of person who would give you a trash flower crown, kinda like how she made a crown for Alastor ✨🦆

I headcannon your angelic/demon form to be a raccoon 💀

You send dumbass memes in the hazbin hotel gc…

You are quite the feral person tbh, but who didn’t know when you literally fought people for your damn trash.

You definitely had bit Valentino once as Angel dust brought you to a club and you were digging in trash to find something cool. But Valentino found you adorable in the face and wanted to make you a sex worker. And what did you do when he tried to hurt Angel?

YOU BIT HIS FUCKIN HAND ALMOST OFF AS ANGEL WAS TRYING TO PULL YOU OFF😭

Yeah..you definitely had blood dripping from your mouth when Angel dragged you out of the club

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moody-alcoholic · 7 months ago

Text

The Missing Piece

Chapter 1 -Coffee

Summary: Ghoap x Reader, throuple. 4.4k words. Reader is female (she/her), army nurse, non descript physical features, names used: Ashe.

CW: Mentions of sex, description of injuries.

masterlist - next AO3

Enjoy <3

“Sergeant MacTavish?” You call into the hallway of soldiers lining the wall, you look up and down to see if anyone reacts to the name.

“Sergeant John MacTavish?” You call again this time a little louder.

“Here lass!” A man calls hobbling down the hall towards you. Your breath catches in your throat, even being on a base surrounded by plenty of hunky men you had not seen anyone quite like him. His broad shoulders, thick arms and tanned skin. His fluffy mohawk, shining almost bronze in the florescent lights. To top it all off his cheeky grin is sending butterfly's racing in your stomach.

He’s being followed by what seems like an even bigger man trying to help him wobble his way down the hall, his sharp eyes focused on making sure his friend doesn’t topple over. The rest of his face is covered by a balaclava with a skull printed on it. It makes you shiver as they walked towards you. You move to the side of the door letting them in. John finds his way to a chair while the other man stands behind him. You close the door to the room going back over to the desk sitting down and opening his file on the computer.

“Twisted your ankle during an exercise?” You look past the monitor at him.

“Aye, I’m fine but LT here insisted I get it checked out.” He replies with a smile on his face thumbing behind at the man looming over him. Christ even his accent is sexy, sottish.

“And I’m staying to make sure you do get it checked out properly instead of flirting your way to a bottle of paracetamol and a cold compress.” The man said, his voice was deep, commanding. You could feel heat rush to your cheeks at the mention of flirting, but you push the thought away trying to remain professional.

“It is good to get it checked even if it is just a sprain.” You move your chair round so you’re sitting in front of him.

“Do you mind if I take your boot off?”

“I got it lass,” he winked bending down to untie the laces, and pulling the boot off. You could tell by the scrunching of his face and the grunt he made that this was causing him pain. He put his foot back down on the floor his ankle did look swollen.

“Have you tried ice or a cold compress?” You ask.

“Aye,” he replies you hear the man behind him sigh.

“What he means by that is he tried for about 5 minuets before he was back on his feet again.” John huffed at being called out, you smile at him and he winks.

“You’ll need to try for longer then that,” you say acknowledging the tall man behind John who now has his arms crossed. You pick the foot up watching John try to hide the pain, you only lift it up a little before decided it was going to need an x-ray.

“I will book an x-ray for you in the mean time if you go into the ward they will give you an ice pack and a bed.” You explain moving your chair back to the desk so you could book the appointment. “Do you want any pain relief?”

“Na, I can barely feel it.” He says a cheeky smile on his face. You nod typing the report and waiting for the paper to print out.

“I can give you some crutches you really should keep your weight off it.” You stand up going to the printer.

“It’s okay love I’ve got my own crutch here.” He says hopping up on his foot and wrapping his arm round the other man with him. You smile handing the paper to him.

“Give this to the nurse on the ward.” You say rushing in front of them to open the door.

“Thanks love,” he says beaming at you as he gets lead out by his friend who looks back at you and nods. You close the door to the room taking a breath out. What the hell was that? You find a smile forming on your lips as your heart flutters in your chest.

————————

Two days later you find yourself as the night nurse. Not that you mind it’s normally the quieter part of the job and there is no one in the ward so you don’t even have to worry about trying to look busy. About an hour into your shift someone comes through the doors. You recognise him immediately as John, from a few days ago with the sprained ankle. He’s hobbling around on crutches now, his friend is not with him either.

“Hello sweetheart!” He says his voice full of energy, that ever present smile on his face.

“Hey, John did you need something?” you ask coming round from behind the nurses station.

“Yeah actually, I was told to come pick up something…” He trails off. “Now what was it?”

“Painkillers?” You ask.

“No it begin with a T I think.” He looks up to the corner of the room rubbing his chin.

“A tubigrip?” You ask raising an eyebrow.

“That’s the one lass!” He says snapping his fingers, you can’t help but laugh at his enthusiasm.

“Sit up on the bed I’ll get you one.” You say turning to the cupboard of supplies. You pick out two sizes then walk back over to John already leaning down to untie his boots.

“I can do that.” You insist waving his hands away, he sighs but gives in leaning back on the bed. You carefully remove the boot looking back and checking to see how he reacts. He’s ether getting better at hiding it or painkillers have helped. He only winces when you have to pull the boot over his heel.

“What did the doctor say?” You ask.

“Sprained, I’ve been stuck behind a desk for the last two days.” He makes a pouting face as you pull his sock off.

“You should sleep with it elevated that will help with the swelling.” You say pulling his trouser leg up. The swelling has definitely improved since you saw it last.

“I bet with a few more days of rest you’ll be back on your feet like nothing happened.” You smile at him.

“I hope so lass, my unit’s being shipped out at the end of the week.” He says as you pull the tubigrip over his foot and ankle.

“Oh yeah anywhere fun?” You ask.

“Ah ‘fraid I can’t tell you that love.” He winks, you can tell if he’s joking or not but you pull his trouser leg back down.

“You can keep your boot on but not too tight, and keep it elevated.” You explain putting his boot back on and loosely tying the laces.

“What painkillers are you taking?” You ask as he swivels his body round so his feet are hanging off the bed.

“Paracetamol, oh and the doc said I could take ibuprofen too, but I don’t need it I can barely feel a thing.” You look back at him chuckling, his arms flex as he pushes himself up with the crutches. You feel your cheeks heat up again.

“You should take the ibuprofen at least it will also help with the swelling.” You force out leaning over him to pick up his sock from the bed. He smells good, must be his aftershave. You hold the sock out for him and he sheepishly takes it out your hand shoving it in his pocket. You move back so he can hop out the ward back to the nurses station.

“Well it was nice seeing you again…” He trails off like he’s trying to remember your name his eyes squinting. You cover your badge teasing him. He chuckles.

“LT is the one with the better memory.” He says turning his body to the doors.

“Ashe.” You reply uncovering your badge.

“Well then Ashe it was nice to see you again.” His smile is infectious and you could have sworn he winked at you.

“Good luck on your deployment,” You call back as he pushes his way through the doors.

“I don’t need luck.” He winks at you. Okay that time it was definitely a wink and it made the butterflies come back to your belly. You sit down at the nurses station with a smile on your face and heat in your cheeks.

————————

One week later you get a text out of the blue.

Hey, this Ashe?

It’s an unknown number you’re tempted to ignore it, but something inside you forces you to answer it.

Yeah, who’s this?

It’s only seconds later a response comes.

It’s Johnny, with the fucked up ankle.

Holy shit, you almost choke on your drink, coughing as the liquid has now gone in your windpipe. You take a few more sips trying to sooth it. How the hell did he get your number?

How did you get my number?

From a friend of a friend..

You can’t help but chuckle, is this real? Did he make his deployment? You realise you haven’t seen him round the base in a few days, and you would know you’ve been looking. Sometimes without even realising it any time you see a broad tanned soldier hairs stand up on the back of your neck and you crane to look only to be disappointed. His friend with the skull mask you found out his name was lieutenant Riley. You know you definitely hadn’t seen him.

Anyway... Want to get coffee?

Such a simple request has your heart thumping in your chest.

When?

You reply without thinking, your leg starts to jump under the table nervousness washing over you. Coffee? With you? Why?

How about that coffee place just outside the base, tomorrow 1300?

Your heart is pounding now your throat dry. Is this a date? No that would be very much against base rules.

Sure :)

Was the smiley too much, you put your phone down embarrassed. You hear it buzz picking up the courage to look

See ya there :)

You let out a breath your leg stops jumping. Coffee with Johnny, surely it’s just a friendly thing to say thank you for helping with his ankle. Not that he has too, it’s your job. Maybe he’s just being nice, he is always smiling. Or maybe he didn’t make his deployment and he’s bored.

————————

You show up early, the butterfly's have not left your stomach since the moment you woke up. You managed to switch your shift with another nurse so you could be here instead. Coffee sounded like too much especially with your nerves you opted for a tea. You find yourself checking your watch almost every second, your back is to the door each time it opens your heart stops and you turn to look. Jesus calm down woman, it’s just coffee. You try to tell yourself. A few minutes later and a few sips of hot tea, you start to calm.

“Hey there lass.” You hear the familiar Scottish accent behind you. You turn in your chair to see him. You stand up to greet him, he pulls you into a hug, patting your back. He lets you go walking round the table and taking his jacket off.

His skin looks darker or maybe it’s just the light in the room, his hair looks like it’s been freshly groomed. You get a proper look at his eyes, a beautiful deep blue. You can’t help finding yourself smiling.

“Hey,” You reply.

“What’s your poison?” He asks pointing at your cup, you push a strand of hair behind your ear. It feels like the nervousness radiating off you.

“Eh tea.” You reply realising you’ve almost finished it.

“Typical brits,” he sighs playfully.

“Let me get it, you should rest your ankle.” You say quickly stopping him in his tracks.

“Don’t worry love it’s been solid for a few days now.” You sigh that’s good at least. He walks over to the counter and you take out a deep breath, sitting back down. Your head following him as he orders beaming at the staff his accent cutting through the mumbling of the other patrons. You look back at your tea finishing it off as Johnny comes back with the drinks. He smiles as he sits down putting the tea in front of you.

“Thank you,” You say warming your hands on the new mug.

“Ne problem don’t you worry about it, I’m supposed to be treating you,” You feel yourself blushing again as that cheeky look comes back on his face.

“Why?” You blurt out before you can stop yourself. He chuckles.

“You helped me with my ankle, I wanted to say thank you.” He says as a matter of fact.

“It’s my job,” you reply shrugging, feeling a rush of embarrassment washing over you. No one has ever thanked you like this before. The most the ward gets is a card sometimes. Or if you were lucky someone would tell your CO you did a good job. That was always important for people looking for promotions.

“You could have just caught me on the base.”

“Yeah,” Now his cheeks looked like they were changing to a gorgeous shade of pink.

“Did you manage to get deployed?” You ask trying to move the subject on. He smiles leaning back in his chair.

“Na, whole thing got cancelled, I spent a few days in London.” He says smiling.

“Was Riley-I mean-lieutenant Riley was he with you?” You blurt out sipping your tea so the word vomit would stop.

“Simon?” Johnny asked his smile getting bigger. “Oh yeah we spend a lot of time together.”

“Huh, that’s nice you must be a tight unit.” You say calming myself. So his name was Simon, Simon Riley.

“What about you what have you been up to?” He leans forward sipping his coffee.

“Work, nothing really.” You smile.

“When’s your next leave?” He asks.

“Two weeks.” He nods like hes thinking about something his lips pressed together. He leans forward on the table more.

“There was another reason I wanted to see you.” He says, his smile disappearing. You hold your breath in anticipation of what he’s going to say next. He takes a breath in for a second looking you in the eyes.

“I really wanted to see you again.” He says, okay that’s not bad. You almost want to laugh at how worked up you got yourself. He just wants to say thank you, he’s buying you coffee because he want’s to be nice. You helped him with his ankle. Now he’s asking if you’re single.

Wait what?

“Single?” You ask, your brain trying to comprehend what you missed. He nods his smile coming back, at least that puts you at ease.

“Yeah, I’m single. Are you single?” It seems like the appropriate time to ask him too. His lips are pressed together again like he’s trying to formulate a sentence in his head.

“It’s complected,” A cheeky smile forms on his lips as he sips his coffee.

“What do you mean it’s complicated? Do you have a girlfriend?” You ask frowning at him.

“No.” He replies flatly.

“A boyfriend?” He puts his coffee down.

“I wanted to see you cos I’ve spent the last week tryin’ te get ya out my head and it’s impossible.” He says leaning forward. You blush at his words.

“What do you mean it’s complicated though?” Your heart beating faster in your chest you can’t tell if it’s the caffeine from the tea or the words from Johnny’s mouth but it was getting harder to concentrate.

“I’m married to my work.” He says leaning back. You sigh, this has happened before. ‘I can’t be with you the job is too important’ It’s all too familiar, finding love when every one around you is throwing their lives on the front line is near impossible. You’d pretty much given up finding love at work, it’s not even the anti-fraternisation rules. People are just never looking for anything long term. Looking for men outside of work is no better. As soon as they find out you’re an army nurse, or army in general it’s usually met with a slew of sexist comments before you realise looking for love at whatever bar you’ve been dragged to was a bad idea.

“I get it,” You say trying to hide your disappointment.

“C’mon lass it don’t mean we can’t still be mates.” He says it sounds almost like a plea. You feel sad and drained, you didn’t know what to expect from the meeting but you weren't expecting to feel like you just got dumped by someone you didn’t even date. You look at johnny his blue eyes look sad, he grips the handle of his coffee mug. Maybe you’re being too emotional, you look down in your tea.

“It’s okay, you seem like a nice guy but I know how this goes. We’ll talk maybe have sex a few times but sooner or later you’ll move on, or be deployed or I’ll move on or be stationed somewhere else…” You look at Johnny finishing the rest of your tea. And moving to stand up. He reaches out to you trying to get you to stay.

“C’mon let me at least walk you back to the base.” You can’t help but see the pleading in his eyes his usual smile warms your heart. You go up and place a kiss on his cheek.

“It’s okay John, I need to go into town anyway.” You smile your hand patting his chest, you can feel the tight muscles under your hand only making it harder to turn away. But you pull your hand off his chest and head for the door.

————————

You spend the next two weeks having to almost actively avoid Johnny. Since whatever mission he was supposed to be on was cancelled he’d been helping round the base with all kinds of different things. You would bump in to him all the time, your eyes always betraying you and wandering to him whenever he was in your view.

He would always wink at you or smile at you. Good luck if he could physically trap you. He would talk your ears off about anything. The gym is where you would see him the most, usually with Simon or another man you didn’t recognise. He spent a lot of time with Simon, the ‘big scary skull guy’ some of the other nurses would call him. He seemed nice, he’s quiet, the most you hear from him are sighs or grunts.

“I heard his face was burnt off in a horrible accident.” One of them said one day as you were eating lunch in the mess. Your eyes had barely left Johnny’s face he was sat a few tables ahead of you. He seemed to like the fact you were always watching him. His eyes meeting yours and smiling, sometimes winking making you blush. Sometimes you would look up and it would Simon's eyes staring you down. His gaze would always send shivers up your spine, the hairs on the back of your neck would stand up.

The nurses round the table are giggling as they spread rumours about him. Nurses sure love to gossip, you try not to participate, there’s not much to do on the base though. Besides everyone ends up knowing everyone's business at some point.

“I heard he went psycho and took out a whole enemy base in Iraq. He covers his face so no one can ID him.” Another one said. Whatever it was about he definitely seemed to be the talk of the base.

“That’s bullshit, he’d be discharged.”

“Nope, he’s special forces SAS.” The nurse sitting closest to you whispered as she leaned into the table. It was enough to piss you off.

“We’re not in secondary school anymore! Don’t you have anything better to do?” You snap leaving the table. You knew you could feel Johnny’s eyes digging into you.

When you’re leaving the base Johnny tries to catch up to you. You don’t want to talk to him, you don’t know what to say to him. You’re leaving the last thing you need is a citation while you’re literally walking out the base.

“C’mon lass give me 2 minutes.” He calls. Maybe it’s your weakness to help people, maybe it’s because truly deep down you wish you could give him a chance. Something about the break in his voice makes you stop in your tracks.

“What? I don’t want to miss my bus.” You say turning to face him.

“I just wanted to say thank you.” He’s smiling, of course he is, he tentatively takes a step forward with his arms outstretched.

“For what?” You ask frowning and shaking your head.

“In the mess earlier.” His hand rubs the back of his neck as he blushes. “Saved me from having to stop Si- Riley from giving them a piece of his mind.”

You smile, dropping your head.

“Yeah well it was nothing. You don’t have to say thank you. You turn looking over at the bus stop. “I really have to go.”

“No, of course.” He says shaking his hands. “See you round then?”

“Probably not.” You shrug. If he really is SAS he won’t be around by the time you get your next post. He nods knowingly his smile fading. You smile back at him then turn to leave the base.

…

When you made it home you welcome the rest. Your small London apartment had been rented out for the few months you had been away, the place was going to need a good clean tomorrow. The thought of sleeping in a bed that had been home to a stranger for 5 months felt icky so you ended up curling up on the sofa turning the TV on for background noise. Your mind turning to Johnny. Wonder what he’s doing? Think he’s still at the base?

Your mind some how turned to Simon too, thinking back to all the rumours you’d heard. None of them even remotely sounding plausible. Who cares, he has his reasons for the mask, it’s none of my business. Your phone buzzed and you reached over to pick it up.

Made it home safe?

It was Johnny, he hadn’t texted you since the coffee date. Well date was the wrong word.

Yeah.

You hover over the send button wondering if this was a good idea or not. You take a deep breath in and hit send throwing the phone to the other side of the couch going back to watch whatever distraction was on the TV. You don’t even remember falling asleep.

...

You’re woken by a knock at the door, you look out the window the sun is peaking through the clouds, you check your watch its 10am. There is another knock. You pull yourself off the couch stiff from sleeping in such an awkward position.

“I’m coming.” You call yawning, looking through the peep hole.

What the fuck?

You open the door.

“John?” You ask shocked.

“Hey,” He says, his smile radiating off his face, his hair is a mess he looks like he’s barely slept. You look at him in stunned silence shaking your head.

“I wasn’t completely honest with you.” He says. “Can I come in? I’ll be quick I promise.”

“Not really the best opening line if you want to get into someones flat.” You say.

“Scouts honour.” He says holding up 3 fingers. You roll your eyes and step aside so he can come in.

“When I said it was complicated, it’s not cos I’m married to the job…” He trails off standing in your kitchen door so there is at least a foot distance between you two.

“I am married, to Simon.” Your mouth falls open at the revelation.

“Simon Riley?” you ask, almost shaking your head in disbelief.

“Yeah,” He shrugs.

“So you’re gay?”

“Yeah, well bi, both of us. That’s why it’s complicated.” You shake your head not quite understanding. He seems nervous all of a sudden.

“Well, we both still like women, and, you know-or I guess you don’t know-we experimented threesomes and what not.” He ran his hand through his hair. “There is something different about you, we’ve both been obsessed with you, can’t get you out our heads.”

“Both?” You ask, your mouth hanging open. Obsessed?

“Aye, Simon’s not good with words though, or at least not till he gets to know ya.” He chuckles running his hand through his hair again. You take a deep breath out.

“What do you want Johnny?” You ask. Is he asking for sex? A threesome?

“Have coffee with me and Simon.” He asks pressing his hands together.

“That’s it coffee?” You ask somewhat stunned.

“Yeah.” He says nodding.

“You came all the way to my flat to ask me to have coffee with you and Simon?” You fold your arms, you can’t tell if you feel disappointed it’s not sex or annoyed that he’s basically invaded your privacy for something so trivial. He shrugs.

You close your eyes, pinching the bridge of your nose. It’s the first day of your leave and you’ve basically been followed home. You sigh, it’s not like you have anything better to do while you’re on leave, and it is only coffee. You take a big breath in opening your eyes. Johnny’s smiling again, the smile that makes your heart skip a beat and the butterfly's wake up.

“Okay.” You nod, You don’t get chance to finish your thought cos he’s thrown his arms round you squeezing you.

“Thank you, thank you.” He says breaking from the hug. Your cheeks are definitely red now, after feeling his body pressed against yours. You can’t help smiling. He reaches over for the door handle.

“I’ll text you a time and a place,” you nod as he goes out the door.

“Hey Johnny how did you find my address?”

“A friend of a friend,” he smiles up at you from the stairs. You shake your head in disbelief. What the hell just happened? You go back into your flat locking the door behind you and going over to the balcony. You’re looking for a car but you don’t see anything.

You let out a long breath. What could he want? You push the thought away. It’s just coffee. Coffee with John and Simon who are SAS soldiers. Married and are probably wanting to proposition you for a threesome.

You go back inside looking over at your immaculately clean bathroom. You better get started, 5 months on base have done you no favours.

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chrisbesitos · 3 months ago

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okay can you make a sad blurb with chris x younger!reader where reader's emotional support cat goes missing and they find her dead in the middle of the road with chris, reader has a panic attack finding out she was ran over? okay im sorry if this was really sad the same thing just happened to me and i see no grief blurbs on here so i just asked, love you! <3

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀one day at a time. 𔘓

꩜ warnings: death, panic attack, angst, grief.

꩜ synopsis: pumpkin is your emotional support animal, you call your boyfriend chris after didn't find her. unfortunately, you found her in a bad state.

It's been a couple hours since the last time you saw Pumpkin, your cat. Sometimes she hides herself to sleep, but he always comes running to you when you call her. After searching for her in the whole house, you started to worry, she's not even in his favorite places to sleep. Your cuticles were already burning, you couldn't stop chewing your nails nervously, Pumpkin has been missing for hours, this makes your heart race and fill your mind with awful thoughts.

You sit on the couch, reaching for your phone on the coffee table, your trembling fingers quickly searching for your boyfriend contact. Chris has been in a meeting for his brand, if it wasn't for your missing cat, you wouldn't call him, but you starting to feel too anxious. Pumpkin is your emotional support animal, you adopted her after your therapist recommended it. You love her so much, she's your company in your daily activities, being without her is hurtful.

“Hey, doll. I'm on a five minute break, I need to be back soon. Do you need something?”

“I can't find Pumpkin, it's been hours since the last time I saw her. She's not under my bed, nor in my laundry basket! I'm calling her, offering treats, but she's not coming.” You say, sounding desperate and her voice cracking. Chris could hear the fear in your voice, he knows how Pumpkin is important to you. Last summer, she hid herself under the couch and the fifteen minutes you spent trying to find her was enough to make you sob.

Hours were too much, but you were distracted with your job and didn't realize Pumpkin wasn't on her bed. With tears pricking in your waterline, the shake on your hands became worse and painful sobs erupt from your throat.

“I’m on my way, okay? But I need you to breathe f’me, doll. Can you do this?” Chris says, his slow voice helping you to relax a bit. You nod, even though he couldn't see you, with your eyes closed, you take deep shaky breaths the way you always do with Chris. You try to put on your mind positive thoughts, the negative ones would only make your anxiety worse.

“Please, hurry.” You whisper with a weak voice.

The breath exercises help you to stay calm until Chris arrives. When you hear the door unlock, you open your eyes and run towards the front door. Chris hugs your waist, pulling you close to his body, caressing your back with his fingertips. The tears you were trying to hold started to fall when you smell his scent and lay your head on his chest.

“It's okay, we're going to find her, doll.” Chris holds your chin, lifting your head and then pressing his lips on your forehead. He massages your arms, knowing you're feeling scared and anxious, he wants to carry you on his arms and fill you with kisses and caring, but this would not bring Pumpkin back. “Let's check the house again, ‘kay?” He cups your cheeks, cleaning the fat tears with his thumbs. You nod, leaning your head to rest the forehead on his shoulder.

Once again, you reach for Pumpkin on every corner of the house, this time with Chris' help. He could lift the furniture that you can't, but no sign of Pumpkin. Chris moves you towards the kitchen when he felt you were getting agitated again, he handed you a glass of water. He knows you're worried, but he can't find Pumpkin if you're having an anxiety attack. Chris rests his hand on your chest and the other embracing your waist, massaging your skin covered with one of his T-shirts.

“We're gonna look for her outside now, maybe she's lost in the backyard.” Chris mutters, an upset pout forms on your lips and you start to shake your head. Pumpkin never goes outside, you always check the door before leaving and never let them open for too long. Chris holds the glass, taking it from your hand before you drop accidently.

“Pumpkin never goes outside, Chris!” You sob, Chris takes a deep breath, holding your hands and putting them against his chest.

“I know, babydoll.” He says patiently, offering a gentle smile. Chris kisses the back of your hands, then massages with his thumbs. “You need to trust me, Y/N.”

You bite your lower lip, fighting against your tears, but you nodded, taking deep breaths trying to calm down. Chris gives you a peck on your lips, he handles you towards the front door, he's feeling the trembling of your body. His fingertips massaging your shoulder when he opens the door, you step out reluctantly, feeling scared with the idea of Pumpkin lost outside. Chris calls for her, screaming her name and making noises to attract her attention, you call for her too, but your voice sounds weaker and lower than Chris.

You both looked for her in the backyard, but she wasn't anywhere. Then, Chris decided to look for her on the street, one block after you house, your eyes caught something on the road. The color drained of your face, suddenly your legs feel weak and you feel like you could fall, you run towards the little animal in the middle of the road. The white fur, the little pink nose and the pink collar with the pendant with her name. Pumpkin.

You kneeled down, the tears falling endlessly from your eyes, they're already red and puffy. You touch her little body with your fingertips, trying to wake her up. Chris kneeled down behind you, biting his lower lip already noticing what's happening, he felt his eyes glassy.

“We need to take her to the vet, she's suffering!” You cry out, looking at Chris, trying desperately to catch the air. Chris didn't know what to do seeing you in that state, he wasn't expecting to find Pumpkin like that. He touches your shoulders, but you shake your head. “Chris, c'mon!”

“Y/N, babydoll, please.” Chris says, cupping your cheeks to make you look at him. You stare at his eyes for a couple seconds until you realize what he's trying to say. There's nothing to do, it is too late to save her. More loud sobs erupt from your throat, sounding so painful. Chris holds your body hardly, he closes his eyes, not wanting to look at Pumpkin. “I'm sorry, doll. I'm so sorry.”

And then you start to feel guilty. Pumpkin just went out, because you didn't pay attention, probably when you opened the door early to receive a door dash. You lift your heavy head, your hair sticking in your face because of the tears and the sweat. Chris tries to pull you close again, but you refuse, shaking your head feeling dizzy.

“It's my fault.” You murmur, avoiding looking at Pumpkin, it's so hurtful to face the reality. Chris shakes his head, massaging your shoulder to catch your attention. You push his hand, holding your head with your hands and pulling your hair off your face.

“It's not your fault, it was an accident.” Chris says, but you shake your hand and lift from the ground. Chris follows you, he cups your cheeks trying to make you look at him. Fat tears rolling down on your face, trying desperately to breathe, Chris moves his hands to your shoulders, squeezing lightly. “Y/N, you need to breathe. Can you do this f’me, doll?”

You shake your head, trying to push Chris away, but he gently holds your arms. You try to look at Pumpkin, but Chris stops you.

“Let's do just like we always do, okay? It's gonna help you.” Chris brushes your hair off your face, he holds your hands and takes deep breaths and you slowly start to do the same. He massages your hands while you follow his movements.

After a minute, you feel the panic dissipating, but not the pain of losing a dear animal. When your eyes start to fill with tears again, you run in stumbling back home, Chris wants to follow you, but he's trying to figure out what to do with Pumpkin. At least he knows your not in panic anymore, but he still feel lost.

Chris entered home before almost an hour, he looked for you in the living room and the kitchen, but you were probably in your room. Chris finds you laying on the bed, covered with your favorite blanket and your body shaking. He climbs on the bed, not wanting to scare you, Chris caresses your arm and puts himself under the blanket. He pulls you closer, letting you be his small spoon.

“What happened to her?” You ask, sniffing and turning to look at Chris. He caresses your forehead, brushing your hair from your face, he gives you a sad smile.

“I called the vet, they came here to catch her until you decide what you want to do.” Chris explains, you nod lowering your eyes. He kisses your forehead, pressing his lips on your skin for a couple seconds. “It was an accident, doll. It's not your fault.”

“I don't want to talk, my head hurts now.” You murmur, your voice slowly cracking again. Chris nods, this time kissing your lips quickly. You do the thing you always do, you push Chris’ to lay on his back and climb his body, laying your head on the crook of his neck. “Don’t leave me.” You whisper.

“I'll never leave you, doll.” Chris whispers back. He holds your body, covering you with the blanket.

Saying goodbye to Pumpkin was hard to you, you spent a week crying in your room, but Chris stayed all these days by your side. You decided to bury her in an animal cemetery, so you could visit her and bring flowers. Dealing with the grief wasn't easy, but Chris makes your days a bit better until you feel good once again. One day at a time, that's what he says.

꩜ chérie's notes: im sorry for taking to long to answer this request. and im really sorry this happened to you, i hope you find some comfort reading this story, love <3

tags ; @lizzymacdonald06 @deliciousluminaryanchor @lushjunkie @sweetreliever @watercolorsky @ivysturnss @brianna-grace12 @blahbel668 @gabri3la-sturns @strnlxlqve @stvrnzcherries @unknvhx @pvssychicken @all4l0vee @i4longhairchris @sluttybitchformattsturniolo @sophand4n4 @sturniololetstrip2 @zay-sturns

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