#they know what they signed up for by being my friend lmao
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chasedeys · 2 days ago
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Jesus Christ he pulled up on Joe ???! I need this devotion
he did 😔😔🤚🤚🤚
the Lakers Date in gifset form and in video form like look at joe staring at ja'marr like that and giggling and shit oh my god joe ja'marr is sure as hell funnier than you but really? ja'marr putting his arms around joe which is just. yeah. look at that little scratch and then actually reaching his arms out and then just saying something short and random 😭 you know. casual. and joe barely reacting to it ok whatever. oh and also there's this hilarious twitter thread in reaction to it lmao.
this is the wowing backstory (everyone say thank you to carmen's big brain!!) to the date and kind of why this felt like a psychological attack beyond the implication that this was A Basketball Date. basically ja'marr flew his ass to arizona for joe because the man was having the shittiest week and was sooooo weirdly messy about it because he posted a vague blurry ass insta story of his location and then deleted it (?????) god what is wrong with him. like the photo was obviously a quick little snap of him in a car with just a location posted in the middle of the night like it didn't matter what the pic was only the location and was posted the minute he arrived (?) like he was announcing where he was for a very specific reason and then deleted it like it served its purpose and he didn't need it anymore. (is that not basic teenager in love 101........)
on joe being miserable -> like joe went to a club and flipped people off and i think one of the events he had was the signing with obj and kd (beloved kevin durant <3 but its sooo random why the fuck was kd there im so confused as to what this event was) and joe's expressions throughout all the videos and photos were either flat as fuck or straight up not-enjoying-shit. the next time he gets snapped in public it's with ja'marr on a basketball court with matching outfits finally smiling and laughing right and doing silly shit like clapping all up against ja'marr's face like a besotted dork......mind you he clapped because ja'marr was on camera probably getting introduced to the stadium so everyone could technically see it so it was like he was teasing the ever living shit out of ja'marr who was trying to be all cool throwing peace signs only to get stunted on by his embarrassing ass man who just wouldn't let him live jesus i'm sorry but i'm genuinely wondering why he clapped that way. look at his impish little smile joe oh my god stop.
but he was really finally acting all goofy and silly and smiling and laughing genuinely when ja'marr showed up and yapped at him!!!!!!! insane. shining example of devotion and codependency tbh.
some Speculation! which i love to do unfortunately for everyone around me:
this was planned from the start way before joe went through apparent hell or something. they bought the tickets way back with dj and sam and this was like the only thing joe looked forward to which is why he was finally smiling and laughing and actually managed to get through the week.
from that event they had together kd gave tickets to obj (pretty sure he was also there but like on the opposite side of the court?? idk) and joe and joe requested/bought more tickets and invited ja'marr and sam and dj because he was in heavy need of Friendship Love Moral Support from his guys. yeah.
(the favorite. the full of love theory) ja'marr found out joe was Going Through It (from joe himself? from obj? from his manager? the internet? other friends? who knows) and flew his ass to arizona having bought the plane ticket within minutes of ending the call/text regarding the joe situation. knew joe needed some refreshing/healing so he searched up what arizona had going on for them that week or he was planning on watching the game from his home anyway idk and immediately bought court-side tickets for the game. invited dj and sam so joe would be surrounded by more close friends who he would feel comforted by. arrived in phoenix in the middle of the night, snapped a quick photo for ig announcing where he was, joe saw it and sent ???????? in reply, ja'marr then deletes the ig story bc he doesn't want anyone else asking shit too, and finally crashed joe's pity party and has him smiling within minutes. am i crazy. yes. am i free. also yes.
THE CLOTHES THING they're literally wearing yellow and purple -> lakers and coincidentally lsu's colors!!! technically suns' too i think. did they plan on matching or did they each plan on wearing lakers colors in the first place (these divas...) and just had that one-brain-ism thing they got going on. ja'marr was sooooo pretty btw 😭😭 his faceeeee the dimple the hairrrr i miss his cornrows he looks sooo good in bright mustard yellow toooooo somebody save me from myself.
OH and dj reader and sam were there too okay 😭 like they weren't there alone. that la lunch date was like this lakers date 2.0 bc they weren't alone damn it but it weirdly seems that way 😭 when you're in love etc. or maybe because they just weren't mentioned as much as these two :( but I'm really pleased that joe could smile surrounded by his teammates <3 joy etc.
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okay bye 😭
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chaztalk · 5 hours ago
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Literally no one tells the people in their real life that they have a tumblr account so idk why you’d feel embarrassed. Delete your account if you feel that bad, or grow up.
Ah, yes, promoting abuse in the name of “love”. Lovely.
That said, you asked why I think Romione is badly written and to “use words”. I did. You called it one-dimensional and tried to disprove my points (even though you skipped over the 2nd paragraph, in which, you didn’t debunk any of those lol) with 99% of it being non-canon/speculation. Such strong arguments, amirite?
“Use your imagination”. Seriously? I didn’t know canon shippers knew this word, when they themselves have problems with other people “imagining” non-canon pairings together. And there’s honestly not alot to do at Hogwarts lmao. And imagination, for me, is hard to do with Ron and Hermione’s relationship because they have 0 common interests and 0 activities they enjoy doing together that’s believable for me.
“They were prefects, which means they were spending hours walking around the school alone together”. This is not canon. You’d know this if you’ve read the Chamber of Secrets cuz we see Percy Weasley patrolling the Slytherin halls alone.
And it’s not “Kreature”, it’s Kreacher. For someone that claims I haven’t read the books in a while, it’s seems like you haven’t either 🤷
As for the house elf argument, you’re telling me Ron changed his views on house elves because two house elves helped them in DH? So he shrugged the state Winky was in. And if Ron and Hermione are so close cuz they just spend so much time alone together, why did Hermione never ask Ron to help her knit clothes for house elves? I think it makes a lot more sense that that Ron learned that “agreement” is works for well from his 12 Fail-Safe Ways to Charm Witches book cuz he does nothing but mostly agree with Hermione to get in her good graces again once he comes back from abandoning Harry and Hermione on the hunt. Regardless, I still think the scene came out of no where, it’s literally during a battle, and the condition of the house elves and wanting them to be free is forgotten about.
And I think you’re misinterpreting what I’m saying about confiding in Harry about their relationship, and I mostly mean Ron telling Harry that he likes Hermione. Harry Potter is oddly one of those pieces of media where a guy friend doesn’t confide with his other guy friend about his relationship troubles or at least a “hear me out”. The HBP movie at least had some semblance to that.
Um, the epilogue is a clear sign of their little to no development. It’s not what’s even inside the epilogue. It’s just 19 years later to confirm the garbage written pairings lol.
You claim that this was easy for you. Of course it’s easy to type up a lot of biased non-canon nonsense.
Honestly, I don’t understand why you’re arguing with me. You’ve already said that the author “hardly tried” writing romance, but you have a problem when your OTP’s writing is in question?
In conclusion, Romione is badly written. Heck, every canon ship is badly written. If you want go die on the hill that Romione isn’t badly written, so be it (you’re wrong either way tho).
“I used to ship Harry and Hermione together but that was back when I was 12 years old. Now, I’ve grown up and realized that Ron and Hermione make much more sense together and are good together” is a sure-fire way to tell me you didn’t “grow up”.
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divasroses · 1 day ago
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my personalll astrology observations ; )
hi y'all thank you for liking my first post perioddd 🤪. but these are my most prominent astrology observations based off my personal experiences w these placements, not fact <3.
. . .
- libra & virgos can both be huge perfectionists about how they express themselves creatively and just in general 🫠. I feel like they are both their own worst critic, always challenging themselves to do better. let’s remember to be kind to ourselves okay guys 😭🤞🏾.
- speaking of virgos, a lot of times they can be way more intuitive than some pisces placements! and vice versa, i’ve seen some pisces placements be kind of cold and super logical like you would expect from a virgo.
- i truly truly admire the heart of leo placements and they are my fav fire sign 👩🏾‍🍳🤌🏾💋. specifically sun. you'll ask them something like 'can I stay the night?' and they'll look at you like you're stupid LMAO. it’s like for them, most questions/favors from their loved ones are an automatically yes so they truly don’t understand asking first . one that I’m close with will say “are you asking me or are you telling me?” 😭 like girl obviously asking. they’re just very generous.
-pisces men & their hidden children, or estranged relationships w their children. whattt is up w that? 😕and them being prone to violence :(. it sucks because as a scorpio i usually root for them and want the best but damn. chill out 😭.
- really admire the drive and passion of aries men but we can only be friends/business partners( maybeee). my thing with them is they put themselves first obviously and you respect it but then you realize they’re willing to do almost anything to achieve that!!!😭… like manipulating the people around them because they know how much they love them 😩. yikes babe.
- shout out all libra placements, from a libra moon! i feel like people are always trying to say we're two faced/fake but it's just our scalessss !! 😩💗constantly weighing, trying to decide what's best for us and our loved ones. gemini truly has the two-faced tendencies and sometimes they choose whatever opinion seems more popular or shocking 😭🤦🏾‍♀️ . just fickle as hell sometimes, you gemini placements lol. i love y'all tho.
- i've seen a lot of leo x sag relationships in my lifetime and it's cute every time 🔥. seems like leo really holds sag down, and obviously they match each other's spark. however, I have seen sag become dissatisfied with this over time and cheat/escape. not permanately but yeah.
*** some of my other fav couples: cancer x gemini, libra x aquarius, cap x leo, virgo x capricorn, scorpio x pisces ( ☺️), pisces x taurus. ****
- for me close friends = earth placements. specifically cap. (cap does rule my 7th house, so no surprise there). but outside of that, i do value stability so obviously earth is good. idk people say they're boring and evil, i don't usually see that side of them? i know they can say some dumb things though. it's like they'll piss you off once in a while but they're not going anywhere. + they're funny.
- why do aquarius low key act like pisces when they're in love?? they really put their blinders on when it comes to their partner and kind of ignore that logic i expect from them. the person in mind has an aquarius sun & venus. a different aquarius was telling me like yeah they do that, they don't care if their partner cheats or whatever, they will stay. im like wow and I thought I was bad lmao.
- the evil scorpio experiences has to be coming from the men !! 😩 if a scorpio women does you wrong she’s hurt. if a scorpio man does you wrong he’s bored !!
let me know what y’all think/ if you want me to touch on something specific!! happy sunday 🌅.
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torchickentacos · 8 months ago
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There's not many things that unsettle me about myself, but the fact that I have a mysterious six inch long scar on my foot and no clue of why it's there is definitely one of those things.
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bangcakes · 10 months ago
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smol-tired-binch-blog · 2 months ago
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Literally only I could get upset when getting a kinda cool uquiz result lmao
#smol has a quick vent#yes its that bugbear thing. look they sound cool and all but not in a way I could be even if I was cool#I am far more shallow than I thought it seems cause like. I like forests and stuff right. Find them comforting and also big fan of the#horror trope There's Something In The Woods. but if u assign me green and brown colour palette and some forest-y bullshit im mad lmao#yes that's my Gothic-wannabe-ass complaining but it's also like. In what universe am i formidable. When do I face adversaries#literally said my vice is cowardice and it's like 'u take on adversaries and have an indomitable spirit' no. I'm sorry I tricked you???#into thinking im something noble?? It's literally Not That Deep but here we are lmaoooo basically I uh#I don't know if I like myself? I'm trying to. But I don't. I don't know how much is 'me' and how much is 'fixable'#at what point do I change so much im not me anymore? When do I become someone worthy of being 'me'#which makes the Old Me unworthy. So that makes Current Me unworthy. How much is an act and how much is me#I would like to be comfortable existing but im not. There's a version I'd like to be that is unattainable#and results like that are equally unattainable if not moreso. And I don't wanna be that#it's also petty personal bias like really? A fuckin druid? great.#(an aside this reminds me of a time an ex-friend said I gave off druid-y faerielike vibes with the fuckin flowing white dress and the#flowers in the hair like boo. no. boring. Give me dark Gothic roses and frills and leather and corsets and a powerful beauty and elegance#like I like the fae stuff sometimes the changeling idea hits a little close but im not some boring elf fuck you)#basically this is like 60% of Virgo answers on those old The Signs As posts (I miss those) and I was mad them and im mad now lol#it's also meant im being a little bitch in. well not friend group. it's a public server which is easy to forget sometimes#so yeah sorry gamersssss i will shut up and continue to play as halfelf rogues cause im BASIC
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angelsforthenight · 6 months ago
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i could eat that girl for lunch… (ellie williams)
ways you can help gaza🇵🇸
summary: you post cute pictures on your story in the hopes of gaining a certain girl’s attention… luckily you get more than what you anticipated ;)
cw: mdni, fem!reader, texting, cunnilingus, desperate top!ellie, teasing sub!reader, cannibalistic metaphors, cursing, ellie is goofy lmao
you’re this close to screaming. the winged eyeliner on your left eye somehow keeps fucking up; either looking too splotchy or shorter than your right one. what’s pissing you off the most is the fact that you aren’t even going anywhere… getting all dolled up just to take it all off in 15 minutes, just to post cute little photos on your story and, of course, just to get her attention.
ellie williams. the name rolled off your tongue with such velvety sleek. every single one of your friends knows her name; has had to endure through your countless obsessive gushes.
you two had met during a party. having been in a drunken haze, you barely remember the first conversation that sparked such an interest, but you do remember her gin breath against your ear: asking/shouting, amidst the blaring music, if you had wanted to go somewhere a little more quieter. the night ended up in you being fingered in her car, before being driven back home by her. a freckle-faced angel in a leather jacket coated with small pins and badges. you were immediately hooked. but it’s been a week since then, and you two haven’t spoken. having achieved her number, you thought of messaging, but didn’t want to come across as desperate, even though you so are.
you thank instagram suggested for bringing you her account on a platter; being filled with niche, introverted posts of every cool-looking thing but her face. she doesn’t even have a “me” highlights! you can’t tell if her lack in posting her face is a blessing or a curse. so here you are, getting ready to post on your story since you followed her the day before. the skin around your eye is starting to sting by the amount of times you’ve been wiping and restarting your eyeliner. it needs to be perfect. you’ve orchestrated all this to be perfect. you take a deep breath and focus, striving to get the perfect wing.
“thank fuck.” you murmur under your breath once you finally get it right, before enveloping your lips in lipstick. you admire yourself in the mirror once done. you look fucking amazing.
since you spent way too long putting on your makeup, it wouldn’t be fair to yourself to only post one picture, so you post a couple. a mirror picture following up a layout of 4 images with the perfect song in the background. a little smile tugs at your lips as you replay the story two, three, four times before setting it on do not disturb and finding something else to do. your heart pounds at the thought of ellie seeing it, praying that she’ll interact. even a simple like will do.
after removing your makeup and getting into your pyjamas, you click on a movie to pass time, setting your phone on do not disturb. half an hour passes, and you’ve been neurotically checking your phone for a sign of ellie to appear on your notifications, but nothing. you check your story to see if she’s seen it but again, nothing. another hour passes, and you check for any sign of ellie. nada. look at my story, you freak! are the words etched in your head, words you wished you could telepathically scream at her. you remember you set your phone on do not disturb for a reason, so you place it far away and focus on finishing the film.
a while later, you’re slumped on your couch on the verge of falling asleep. the movie’s ended and it was so boring that you’re finding it hard to keep your eyes open. you decide to check your do not disturb notifications one last time before taking a nap, until your eyes fall on the name ‘ellie.’ you immediately jerk up, awake and alert: your thumb automatically pressing the notification centre so you can see what it reads.
seventeen minutes ago.
ellie liked your story
ellie liked your story
ellie replied to your story: doll face
ellie replied to your story: you need a seat? lemme volunteer 🙏🙏
a shit-eating grin lights up your face. fucking finally! not once but twice! you excitedly draw your knees up to your chest, eager fingers tapping away, ready to respond - regardless of how long you’d been waiting for her texts. play it cool….
y/n: hahaha thank u thank u <3
y/n: (replied) oh word?
you’re surprised and very happy when you see the ‘typing…’ your heart doing goddamn backflips.
ellie: wooooord
ellie: literally cannot stop replaying ur story… bring that over here 🙁
ellie: come over
!!! your heart sinks all the way down to your ass. the hell does she mean come over?
y/n: ur not serious lmaoaoaooa
ellie: i’m being deadass,,, come over.
you look at the time. it’s almost 1 in the morning.
y/n: idek where u live bru😭😭😭😭
y/n: if anything you should come over since you’ve driven me to my house b4
ellie: mmm nahhhh
you blink in disbelief when ellie sends her location over. she’s not kidding.
y/n: girl i look bummy… i don’t even have any makeup on anymore :< took it off
ellie: i really don’t care
ellie: plsplspsls come over
ellie: u won’t regret it……………. trust 🤓🤓
next thing you know you’re leaving your house in your plaid shorts and a silly graphic tee. thankfully, ellie only lives 10 minutes away, so you take a bus before walking up to her apartment.
y/n: i’m cominggg
ellie: LOL yeaa you will be coming real soon 😇😇😇
though you cringe at her text, your body betrays you; your stomach forming a deep pit. she’s so sultry and playful you don’t know even know what to think. and there goes your heart again, hastily beating away like there’s no tomorrow. you reach the door, a trembling hand raising up to knock.
“hi.” ellie beams, smiling like an idiot. her eyes seize you from head to toe, “nice fit.”
“told you i looked bummy...” you mumbled, trying your best not to seem nervous. ellie moves aside so you can come in. her apartment smells exactly like she does; that faint campfire scent, conjoined with a forest-ey musk. a forest fire you were more than willing to burn in.
“so…“ you begin, with nothing prepared to follow up after that.
“sooooooo….” ellie repeats blithely.
“it’s been a week since… you know…” you whisper, awkwardly shifting your legs.
“since…?” ellie blinks, furrowing her eyebrows. she’s taunting you, trying to play innocent when it’s pretty fucking obvious what you’re on about.
“the party.” you respond, entertaining her coyness for no reason.
“party?” ellie pretends to think, looking up at nothing. “oh!! yeah… jesse’s one.” she smirks.
you smirk back, furrowing your eyebrows in amusement. “you could do so much better at playing dumb, y’know…”
“you think so?” ellie narrows her eyes, tilting her head as she steps closer. the impish smirk on her face never leaves. she’s having fun. you both are.
“yup. for your own good, don’t choose acting as a career.”
“for my own good?”
“for your own good.” you haven’t even realised how close you two are to each other now, daring eyes locked with another pair of daring eyes. takes one to know one. a silence permeated with tension fills the room.
“c’mere…” ellie finally mumbles before cupping your face with both hands and bringing you in for a kiss. you’re quick to melt in her grasp, your hand finding it’s way to ellie’s hair, giving it a playful tight squeeze that elicits a quiet groan from her. her hands, those goddamn hands, then move to your waist, pulling you closer. you two don’t even waste time before you’re making out with such fervor. save the sweetness for later, it’s the hunger that’s on display for now. the memory of her lips were starting to slip away from your mind and you’re glad you’re here to reboot it.
once you pull away, ellie’s eyes drift to something behind you. you follow her gaze, only for your eyes to land on a chair in the middle of the goddamn living room. it’s so random that you can’t help but burst out laughing.
“why is there a chair?” you ask in the midst of your laughing fit. it’s not even that funny, but the laughing is helping with your nerves.
“it’s for you.” ellie giggles too, a light pink tint on her cheeks that’s hard to miss.
“me?” you blink rapidly, your gaze darting from the chair to ellie, “do i sit?” you ask stupidly.
“no, you stand.” sarcasm laces her tone, as she giggles a little more, “go sit.”
“don’t order me around like i’m your dog.” you respond playfully, but you do as she says. despite your ‘tough’ front, you’d do anything she’d tell you to. guess she was being literal about offering you a seat…
ellie grins down at you, angling your chin up so you’re looking at her. you can feel the heat start to prickle in your face, down your neck and pervading the rest of your body. her thumb traces along your bottom lip, slightly dragging it down. there’s that same darkened look she had back in her car, one that makes you feel so small.
“so cute… like a human deer.” she murmurs distractedly, almost like she’s talking to herself instead of you. your head grows fuzzy, blushing even more. you mindlessly squeeze your thighs together, trying to ease the growing heat in between. ellie notices.
“you doing okay?” she softly asks, unable to mask the smug look on her face. you nod quietly. with her eyes kept on you, she lowers down until she’s on her knees, her smile growing. she kisses the top of both your kneecaps in such a tender way it sends tingles down your spine.
“can i eat you?” she breathes, her voice hollow and needy. it takes a second for those words to register in your brain.
“you…” you trail off. ellie’s gaze is very, very distracting. so intense and intrusive. she patiently waits for your answer, resting her chin on top of your knees. how can someone look so adorable and intimidating at the same time?
“please?” she adds, and you smile. a realisation has just dawned on you: you like to make her wait.
“eat me?” you cock your head to the side in feigned confusion. now it’s your turn to play dumb.
“yeah… like, your pussy.” ellie mumbles, becoming so desperate that it’s funny. she needed to be humbled at least a little. “i want a taste…”
“yeah?” you mock, and ellie’s face warps into a frown. “stop teasing me.”
“it’s only payback.” you shrug.
“for what?” ellie whines.
“for taking a week to text me.”
ellie stares at you for a moment. “then let me make it up to you…” her eyes travel down to your clamped thighs, wanting to open them up so bad. truth is, you’d let her devour you. chew you up like a deranged creature and watch her greedily lick the blood from her fingers. but teasing her was just so damn fun.
“aren’t your knees getting tired?” you tease, cupping the side of her face as she stares up at you with puppy eyes. it’s getting hard to resist. ellie immediately shakes her head.
“for you? never.” she whispers. your grin broadens in satisfaction. such sweet words. meaningless? maybe, but cute nonetheless.
“fine…” you sigh, leaning back and gesturing for ellie to go forth. ellie’s face lights up like a bulb, eagerly parting your legs. the movement makes you shiver, as you can feel the heated moisture of your arousal seep through your underwear. despite your shorts still being on, ellie’s lips travel up, both hands gripping your sides as her lips leave fond, wet kisses along your inner thigh. her teeth clench around the hem of your shorts, letting out a muffled chuckle as she playfully pulls your shorts down with her teeth. she’s kidding around but that’s one of the hottest things you’ve ever seen in your life.
you adjust your knees so that your shorts can be pulled down. you’re so wet your underwear is fucking see-through. you just know she’s about to say something.
“someone’s real excited-“
“shut up and keep going.” you hastily cut her off out of embarrassment. ellie laughs, glancing at you one more time before leaning back down again, dragging her ardent tongue up your inner thigh. you gasp quietly, and that little noise influences her to do more, letting out a sigh of her own; the sort of sigh you do when relaxing in a hot bath, or when pissing after holding it in for so long… like she’s needed this. you’re startled when ellie drags her tongue right in the center of your clothed heat, your breath hitching. you want more.
ellie’s teasing is relentless and mean. she sucks your clit through your underwear, eyes on you; observing the way your hips are desperately buckling up, the way your thighs are twitching.
“so mean…” you whine as ellie flicks and rolls her tongue against your underwear.
“did you want something?” ellie blinks. again with the coyness. you scowl and ellie grins in return.
“you can’t outdo the do-er, babe.” she chirps, pulling the drenched underwear off your legs. she opens your legs wide, staring at your pussy like it’s the best piece of artwork she’s ever seen. you can practically see sparkles in her eyes. you shiver when you feel her fingers pry your cunt open.
“so fucking hungry for you…” she whispers, her breathing shallow and her eyes glazed-over. she gets to work immediately, a firm trail up your vulva before kissing it with her lips. a fleshed moan doesn’t fail to escape your own lips, as your eyes flutter shut. of course she’d be good at this.
ellie moans too, gripping your thighs and pulling you closer, burying her face in between your legs as she goes to town on you. she’s moving like she’s starving, like she hasn’t eaten for weeks and has been presented with a banquet.
her lips tug at your folds, your pussy slick with a mixture of your arousal and her spit. every single time her lips hit your clit it elicits yet another strong reaction from you. she’s so vigilant that she’s quick to notice that that’s your most delicate spot, so she abuses it; kissing it and pulling on it, her head shaking as she pleases you with her tongue. you nourish her with hushed praises: ones like “yes, yes…” or “you’re doing so good” to keep her going. it fuels ellie like no other, and drives her to go harder, a little faster.
her movements are so consistent and perfect that you could froth in the mouth right here and now. you grip her hair tightly, and ellie adores it: groaning happily when you squeeze too tight. you mindlessly push ellie’s head closer to your pussy, feeling the tip of her nose buried in. your moans begin to crescendo. you’re in fucking ecstasy.
“getting close, are we?” ellie pants, her thumb rubbing your clit in slow, teasing drags as she resumes sucking on your cunt.
“i’m gonna cum… i’m cumming… e-ellie…” you babble, tears threatening to pour; and it isn’t just the eye tears we’re talking about here…
“yeah? you gonna let yourself go?” ellie stares up at you, her voice a little higher and breathier. her face is warped into one of pleasure, like she’s the one being fucked.
“yeah… please ellie, i’m really close…” you whine: barely coherent, light tears streaming down your face. ellie chuckles at how adorable you look, taking a second to appreciate how good you look when needy. she dives back in, her nails digging into your thigh as her mouth moves with the perfect vigour to push you off the edge. and oh, you do.
one last strong lick gets you off: your spine bending backwards, same as your head as you let out a strangled scream. you grip her hair tightly, your eyes momentarily rolling to the back of your head as ellie purposely continues to extend the high a little bit. eventually, she pulls back. the both are you are completely out of breath - huffing and panting like dogs.
you slump back in your chair, completely out of it and in a daze. ellie smiles.
“you okay?” she murmurs, appreciating your cute, spent look. you nod quietly in response.
“fuck, my knees.” she mumbles, before sitting back and stretching them. you laugh a little.
“there was no need for the chair.” you reply.
“i know… but i wanted to. it was hot.”
“it was.” you smile. you’re glad you decided to get dolled up for your story tonight.
a/n: i’m back! i’ve been so caught up in school that i haven’t been able to post fics as much but i’ll try 2 be more active :33 i’m absolutely obsessed with billie’s lunch so i made an ellie fic based off of it. hope u enjoyed and if u have any requests leave them in the ask inbox !!!
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brunchable · 2 months ago
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The Marriage Bet
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Pairings: Best Friend Bucky Barnes x F!Reader
Themes: A bet. A bit of comedy but mostly fluff and Bucky treating his woman right ;)
Summary: If in three years time both of you were still single, you will marry your best friend, Bucky. That's the bet.
A/N: For those of you who voted for 'Calm Down, Dad Mode' I've added it to this story. This has got to be my favorite fluff FML. Also let me TELL YOU, the cravings in pregnancy and the emotions are real because I lived it lmao. PART 2
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Three Years Ago
"You know what we should do?” Bucky said out of the blue, his gaze fixed on you with a seriousness that made your stomach flip. The two of you had been lounging on his couch for hours, talking about everything and nothing. It was a lazy night filled with laughter, shared memories, and the kind of comfortable silence only you and Bucky knew how to savour.
You glanced over at him, raising an eyebrow. “What?”
“If we’re still single in three years… let’s get married,” he announced, as if it was the most logical suggestion in the world. His tone was light, but there was a quiet intensity in his eyes that made it clear he wasn’t joking.
You stared at him for a moment, trying to gauge if he was serious. “Bucky, have you lost your mind?”
“Maybe,” he admitted with a shrug, his lips twitching up into that familiar smirk that made your heart skip. “But think about it. No more crappy dates, no more getting your heart broken by idiots who don’t deserve you. Just us. You and me. We already know each other’s worst habits, and we get along. It’d be a good marriage.”
You scoffed, shaking your head. “You make it sound like we’re signing up for a business merger.”
He laughed at that, the sound deep and genuine. “Maybe. But at least you’d know you’re stuck with someone who’s never going to walk out on you. Someone who’d fight for you.”
The way he said it made your throat tighten, and for a second, you allowed yourself to picture it. A life with Bucky, the two of you navigating the ups and downs together. No more failed relationships, no more loneliness. Just the comfort and security of someone who knew you better than anyone else.
“You’re serious, aren’t you?” you murmured, still stunned by the idea.
He nodded, his gaze never leaving yours. “Yeah, I am. So, what do you say?”
You hesitated for just a beat, then broke into a grin. “Deal, Barnes. If we’re still single in three years, I’ll marry your crazy ass.”
He grinned back, his hand shooting out to seal the promise with a firm handshake. But as your fingers clasped around his, the energy between you shifted — playful and yet, inexplicably serious.
“Deal,” he echoed softly, a knowing look in his eyes that sent a shiver down your spine.
× × × × 
Present
You leaned against the railing of the rooftop, your eyes skimming over the city lights below as the faint notes of Taylor Swift’s break-up songs filled the air. You and Bucky had been up here for hours, talking and drinking, the night air crisp against your skin.
It had been a rough few months for you — the breakup still felt fresh, the sting of rejection and disappointment lingering. But being here with Bucky made it easier. He had a way of grounding you, of making you feel like everything would be okay, even when it didn’t seem that way.
“Y’know, you’re the best,” you murmured, your words slurred slightly from the champagne. “I mean it, Buck. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
He smiled softly, his gaze warm as he watched you. “Good thing you don’t have to find out, huh?”
You nodded, letting out a sigh as you turned back to the view. “Still, I feel like… I don’t know. Like I’m destined to be alone or something.”
“That’s not true,” he said quietly, setting his glass down and turning to face you fully. “And you know it.”
You shrugged, glancing over at him. “Yeah, well, sometimes it feels like it. Everyone I’ve ever dated just—”
You stopped mid-sentence as Bucky suddenly shifted, reaching into his pocket. Your eyes widened as he pulled out a small blue velvet box and, without hesitation, flipped it open. The soft light of the rooftop glinted off the 1.5-carat diamond ring nestled inside — simple, elegant, and undeniably breathtaking. 
“What’s that?” you asked, your breath catching in your throat.
Bucky arched an eyebrow, giving you a pointed look. “An engagement ring, Y/N. What else?”
“Yeah, I know it’s a ring!” you sputtered, your mind reeling. “But why—how—what are you doing with it?”
Bucky sighed, muttering under his breath, “For someone so smart, she really can’t see what’s right in front of her.”
You barely had time to process the words before he got up from his sitting position and slowly knelt down on one knee. The movement made your heart jump into your throat, your breath hitching as he looked up at you, his eyes softer than you’d ever seen them.
“I want to marry you, Y/N,” he said, his voice firm and sure. “Not because of some bet or joke we made all those years ago, but because… I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to be the one you come home to. The one who makes you laugh when you’re sad. The one who fights for you.”
You felt your chest tighten as the weight of his words sank in, the sincerity in his voice making it almost impossible to breathe. “Bucky… this is—”
“I know this is crazy,” he continued, cutting you off gently, his gaze never leaving yours. “But when have we ever been normal, huh? I’m not asking you to feel something you don’t or to change anything between us. But I am a man of my word, and I’m keeping the promise we made.”
Your mind raced, memories of that night flashing through your mind — the promise, the shared laughter, the way he’d looked at you back then as if you were the only thing that mattered. And now, here he was, years later, kneeling in front of you with an engagement ring, ready to turn that promise into something real.
He took a deep breath, his hand trembling slightly as he held out the ring, his expression almost pleading. “So… will you marry me? Not because you feel like you have to, but because you want to?”
You stared down at him, your heart pounding wildly in your chest. The world seemed to fade away, the only thing anchoring you being his blue eyes, filled with nothing but hope and determination.
“Well? Say something, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice barely a whisper now. “Because I’m dying here.”
You let out a breathless laugh, the tears welling in your eyes spilling over as you shook your head in disbelief. 
“You’re really going all out, huh?” you teased, “Getting down on one knee and everything… how could I say no to a man with such dedication?”
Bucky blinked, caught off guard, and then let out a soft laugh of his own. “Is that a yes, or are you just stalling to make me sweat more?”
You glanced at the ring, then back at him, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. “I guess… if I have to be stuck with someone for the rest of my life… it might as well be you.”
“Yes,” you added quickly, your smile widening as you looked at him with all the warmth and affection you felt. “Of course it’s a yes, you idiot!”
Relief washed over his face, his grin so wide it could’ve lit up the entire rooftop. “You really know how to keep a guy on edge, don’t you?”
“Gotta keep things interesting,” you replied with a laugh, reaching out to brush your fingers against his cheek. “I can’t make it too easy for you.”
His chuckle was deep and genuine, the tension melting from his shoulders as he slipped the ring onto your finger, his eyes never leaving yours. “You can be so mean you know that?”
“Mean?” you scoffed, giving him a playful look of disbelief. “You’re proposing to me, remember? I’m just making sure you know exactly what you’re getting yourself into.”
Bucky shook his head, laughter bubbling up in his chest. “Oh, I know. And I’m still all in, even if you make me work for it.”
You grinned, stepping forward and wrapping your arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug. Bucky didn’t hesitate, his arms coming up to hold you close, his chin resting gently on top of your head. The warmth of his body against yours, the steady beat of his heart beneath your cheek.
Slowly, you pulled back just enough to look up at him, your chin resting on his chest as your eyes locked with his. The sound of the music drifted softly through the air, wrapping around you both like an embrace.
You could see the tenderness in his gaze, the way his eyes softened as he looked down at you. There was something indescribable in the way he held you, his hands warm and secure against your back, as if he never wanted to let go.
“You know,” you murmured softly, a small smile playing on your lips, “I completely forgot about that bet.”
Bucky’s lips quirked up at the corners as he started to sway gently, rocking you both back and forth in time with the music. 
“Yeah? Good thing I haven’t.” he agreed quietly, his voice low and filled with something that made your heart flutter.
You let out a content sigh, closing your eyes for a moment as you swayed together under the soft glow of the rooftop lights, the melody of the song weaving its way into your soul. There was a peace, a sense of rightness in the way his hands rested on your waist, the way your fingers curled into his shirt.
Opening your eyes, you tilted your head slightly, the corners of your lips curving up into a playful smile. “I’m really going to make you regret this, you know.”
He chuckled softly, his thumb brushing gently against your side as he gazed down at you. “Doubt it. But you’re welcome to try, sweetheart—I mean what else could I possibly not know about you?”
Your smile widened as you looked up at him, chin resting on his chest. “Oh, you’ll find out. Just because we’re getting married doesn’t mean I’m not full of surprises.”
Bucky’s eyes sparkled with amusement as he leaned down slightly, his lips brushing against your temple. “Good. I wouldn’t want it any other way.”
“Just remember you asked for it,” you teased, your voice soft as your fingers toyed with the collar of his shirt. “You’re the one who’s committing to a lifetime of never quite knowing what I’ll do next.”
“Yeah?” he murmured, his gaze dipping to your lips before meeting your eyes again, a smile playing on his own. “I guess I like keeping things interesting, too.”
A laugh bubbled up in your chest, and you felt the tension melt away as you both swayed gently to the music. It felt like a new beginning — a promise that whatever came next, you’d be facing it together.
× × × ×
A few months later.
The garden was alive with soft laughter and murmurs as the afternoon sunlight filtered through the canopy of leaves. The air was filled with the delicate scent of roses and jasmine, and the gentle rustling of leaves provided the perfect backdrop for the small, intimate gathering of friends.
Bucky stood under the floral archway, his suit somehow both perfectly fitted and slightly askew in that way only Bucky could pull off. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his fingers drumming absently on his thigh. When you turned the corner, your eyes met his, and you couldn’t help but smile at the exaggerated sigh of relief he let out.
“Thank God you showed up,” he teased, his voice carrying over the gentle breeze. “Thought I’d have to marry Sam instead.”
You laughed, rolling your eyes as you made your way down the short aisle, trying to ignore the way your heart fluttered in your chest. “Yeah, yeah, keep it up, Barnes. He’d leave you at the altar, you know.”
Bucky grinned, his shoulders relaxing as you stepped up to him. “True. He couldn’t handle my morning breath.”
The officiant cleared his throat gently, drawing soft chuckles from your friends. Bucky’s gaze stayed locked on yours, a playful twinkle in his eyes as if you were sharing a private joke no one else could understand.
“You ready for this?” he murmured softly, his tone light but his smile genuine.
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” you replied, giving him a small nod.
The ceremony was simple and sweet, with your closest friends standing in a loose circle around you, their smiles reflecting the joy and camaraderie that had always defined your relationship with Bucky. 
When it came time for the vows, Bucky cleared his throat dramatically, pulling a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket.
“I’m not good at this stuff,” he began, waving the paper around, “so I wrote it down. Just so I don’t forget the important parts. Like promising I won’t eat your fries without asking.”
You let out a snort, shaking your head. “So that’s why you’re marrying me? For my fries?”
“Partly,” Bucky said with a wink, earning a few laughs from your friends. “But seriously… I promise to always be your partner in crime. To watch bad movies with you, to be your go-to plus-one for all those events you hate, and to be the one you can call at 3 a.m. when the world feels like too much.”
His voice softened slightly, his gaze never wavering from yours. “I promise to be your best friend, to listen, and to support you. And yeah, to not eat your fries — unless you’re not looking.”
You chuckled, blinking back the unexpected prickle of tears. “Damn, Barnes. Setting the bar high for husband material, aren’t you?”
“Someone’s gotta do it,” he replied with a smirk.
When it was your turn, you took a deep breath, glancing down at your own slightly crumpled paper. “Bucky, I promise to keep being your reality check, to make sure you don’t take yourself too seriously. I promise to help you with your crazy woodworking projects, even when you refuse to read the instructions. And I promise to be your partner in all things — the weird, the good, and the unpredictable.”
Bucky’s grin softened into a small, genuine smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I think we’re gonna be pretty good at this whole marriage thing.”
“I think so too,” you murmured back.
The officiant’s voice broke through the quiet moment, his smile warm. “By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. Bucky, you may now—”
“Wait,” Bucky interrupted, holding up a hand as he turned to you, his expression half-serious, half-teasing. “Can I kiss you?”
You blinked, surprised. “What?”
“You know,” he said, shrugging a shoulder like it was the most natural thing in the world. “This is technically our first kiss. I want to get it right. So… how do you like it?”
A burst of laughter escaped you, the tension in your shoulders melting away as the sheer Bucky-ness of the question made you grin. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”
“Come on, humor me,” he pressed, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Slow? Gentle? Or should I just go for it?”
You shook your head, still laughing softly. “Just… kiss me, you goof.”
Bucky grinned, his eyes twinkling with affection. “Alright, Mrs. Barnes,” he said softly, leaning in. “I’ll make it good.”
His grin widened and shifts a little closer to you, Bucky dipped his head and you felt your noses brush. His breath is on your lips, and you quiver a bit at the odd sensation. Without another moment to spare you realise that he's pressing his lips to yours—it was nothing like you’d expected. His hand slipped to the small of your back, drawing you closer, his eyes fully closed. Bucky was concentrating on the kiss, and you realised that your eyes were wide open. Slowly you close them, hiding away your brilliant orbs. 
Bucky’s lips are oddly doft in this kiss and it stays slow and sweet. He wrapped his arm around you more, lifting you slightly off your feet. The veil fluttered around you like a soft cocoon, and then everything disappeared as his mouth moved insync with you, his kiss remained slowly, his mouth molding against yours in a way that made your knees weak.
His fingers gently tangled in your hair, his thumb brushing softly along your cheekbone as if he couldn’t bear to stop touching you.
But then he shifted, tilting your head just slightly as he deepened the kiss, his hold around you tightening. It was then that you felt him let go completely — every barrier, every wall he’d kept up around himself crumbling as he poured everything into that kiss. 
Somewhere in the distance, you could hear the faint cheers and whistles of your friends—Sam being the most obnoxious—but it all felt like background noise. It was just you and Bucky, wrapped up in this kiss that felt like it had been building up for years. His lips slid over yours with a kind of sweet intensity, a silent confession of everything he hadn’t said — of everything he didn’t know how to say.
When he finally pulled back, his forehead resting gently against yours, both of you were breathless, hearts pounding in unison. He didn’t let go, his arms still wrapped around you as if you might disappear if he loosened his grip.
A soft cheer went up from your friends—Sam being the most obvious— and Bucky’s grin turned almost smug. “How was that?”
You let out a shaky laugh, your hands clutching his shoulders as you tried to steady yourself. “Yeah, Buck. I think you got it just right.”
“Good,” he murmured, his eyes searching yours for a long, lingering moment before his smile widened into something boyish and relieved. “Just wanted to make sure.”
“Don’t worry,” you teased gently, brushing your thumb over his cheek. “You’re not getting rid of me after a kiss like that.”
Bucky’s laugh was soft, his nose brushing against yours. “Guess I should keep practicing, huh?”
You nodded, your grin matching his. “Yeah. Keep practicing, Barnes.”
And as he pulled you in for another kiss, slower and just as sweet as the first, you knew that this — all of this — was exactly how it was meant to be.
× × × ×
1.5 years later
You were pacing back and forth in the bathroom, your heart hammering in your chest. Every few seconds, your eyes would dart to the three little sticks sitting ominously on the edge of the sink — three white, plastic harbingers of potential chaos.
“Come on, come on, come on,” you whispered frantically to yourself, squeezing your eyes shut as if willing the tests to disappear — or at least show some clarity.
How did it come to this? You were supposed to be life partners — partners in crime, best friends — no strings attached, no expectations. Just two people who promised to be there for each other. Sure, you got married, but it was all because of the bet. A way to keep each other from loneliness, you both said. Nothing more, right?
Except somewhere along the line, late-night talks had turned into stolen kisses. Comforting hugs had turned into tangled limbs. And now… this.
“Oh my god, he’s going to flip,” you muttered, running a hand through your hair as you stared at the still-blank screens on the tests. “This isn’t how we were supposed to—”
“Supposed to what?”
You jumped about a foot in the air, letting out a small squeak of surprise as Bucky’s voice filled the bathroom. You whipped around, your heart nearly leaping out of your chest as you spotted him leaning casually against the doorframe, an amused smirk on his lips.
“Bucky! Don’t—don’t just sneak up on people like that!” you stammered, instinctively shuffling over to the sink to block his view.
His smirk widened. “I didn’t sneak. You’re just too distracted, sweetheart.” He pushed off the doorframe, crossing his arms as he stepped closer. “What’s going on in here?”
“Nothing!” you squeaked, your voice a little too high-pitched.
Bucky’s eyebrows shot up. “Uh-huh. So, you’re just hanging out in the bathroom, talking to yourself?”
“Yes!” you answered quickly, nodding like a bobblehead. “Yep, just a totally normal conversation with… myself. Very productive.”
He eyed you, suspicion etched all over his face. “Uh-huh. And why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost?”
“I don’t!” you lied, crossing your arms over your chest as if that could somehow shield you from his scrutiny.
Bucky took another step closer, his gaze flicking over your shoulder. “Then why are you standing like that?”
You moved subtly, trying to casually scoot to the left, but your back hit the edge of the sink. “Like what?”
“Like you’re hiding something,” he said, leaning down slightly to look your directly in the eyes. “What’s behind you, Y/N?”
“Nothing!” you insisted, but your hand twitched involuntarily, knocking into one of the sticks. It clattered onto the counter, bouncing once before rolling to a stop right at Bucky’s feet.
You froze.
Bucky’s eyes flicked down to the test, and his entire expression shifted — from curiosity to confusion to wide-eyed realization.
“Wait… is that a—?”
“No!” you yelped, diving forward to snatch up the stick and hide it behind your back. You stood there, breathing heavily, your face flushed with a mix of panic and embarrassment.
Bucky’s gaze slid back to you, his lips quirking into an incredulous smile. “Y/N, are those… pregnancy tests?”
You glanced around desperately, as if you could conjure up some kind of diversion to steer the conversation elsewhere. “Uh… no? Maybe?”
“Sweetheart…” Bucky stepped around your easily, and in one quick motion, he plucked the other two tests off the sink. He held them up, his eyes wide and eyebrows nearly disappearing into his hairline. “There are three.”
“Yeah, well… you know, the first one could be a fluke, and the second one too, and…” you trailed off, wincing at how ridiculous you sounded.
Bucky blinked, then let out a bark of laughter. “Three tests, huh? You’re nothing if not thorough.”
“Bucky!” you hissed, mortification washing over you. “This isn’t funny!”
“Maybe not,” he admitted, though his lips were still twitching with amusement. “But you’re freaking out over here, hiding them like I wasn’t gonna notice.”
“I wasn’t freaking out!” you lied, folding your arms across your chest again. “I was just… assessing the situation.”
He raised an eyebrow, waving one of the tests in front of your face. “Assessing, huh? And what’s the situation, then?”
You groaned, squeezing your eyes shut. “I don’t know, okay? I haven’t looked at them yet!”
There was a beat of silence. Then—
“Wait, you haven’t looked?” Bucky’s voice was filled with genuine disbelief. “You’ve been pacing around in here, stressing yourself out, and you haven’t even checked?”
“I’m not ready!” you snapped defensively. “I mean… what if they’re positive?”
Bucky’s grin softened into something more genuine, and he stepped forward, gently cupping your cheek. “Then they’re positive.”
Your eyes met his, the sincerity and calmness in his gaze making some of your panic ebb away. “But we’re not even— I mean, this was supposed to be—”
“A bet?” he finished softly, a hint of something unreadable in his eyes. “Yeah. I remember. But bets don’t always go the way you plan.”
You swallowed hard, your heart still hammering wildly. “You’re not… mad?”
“Mad?” he repeated, his expression incredulous. “Why the hell would I be mad? I mean, sure, this is unexpected. But mad?” He shook his head, chuckling softly. “C’mon, Y/N. You really think I’d be mad about having a family with you?”
The words made your heart stutter, and you stared up at him, wide-eyed. “Bucky…”
“Let’s just see what they say, alright?” he murmured gently, stepping back and nodding toward the tests. “No more freaking out until we know.”
With trembling hands, you turned each test over, your breath hitching as you looked at the results.
Positive.
Positive.
Positive.
Bucky’s grin had barely faded before the reality of the situation seemed to really hit him this time. His gaze drifted back to the three tests lined up on the sink, and you watched as his face slowly drained of colour.
“Bucky?” you asked cautiously, noticing the way his grip on your arm loosened slightly.
He blinked, his eyes darting between you and the tests like he was trying to solve some impossible puzzle. “So, uh… positive. All three?”
You nodded slowly, worry beginning to creep back in. “Yeah, Buck. All three.”
“Oh… Oh, wow,” he muttered, his eyes widening. “That’s… that’s a lot of positive.”
“Bucky—”
“I mean, I knew one was a lot, but three—positives?” he rambled, swaying slightly on his feet. “That’s… that’s a whole lot of… baby.”
“Bucky, are you okay?” you asked, reaching out to steady him as his face turned even paler.
“I’m—yeah, I just—” He stopped mid-sentence, his eyes rolling back slightly as his knees buckled.
“Bucky!” you shouted, grabbing for him as he crumpled to the floor in a faint.
You managed to catch his weight just enough to keep him from completely knocking his head on the tiles, though it took every ounce of strength you had to keep him semi-upright.
“Are you freaking kidding me?” you huffed, looking down at his unconscious form with a mix of exasperation and disbelief. “You’re the one who said you’d be fine with this!”
He let out a soft, incoherent groan, his head lolling to the side as you carefully lowered him all the way to the ground and raised his legs above his head for bloodflow.
“Of course you’d faint, you big drama queen,” you muttered, crouching down beside him and lightly patting his cheeks. “Come on, Buck. Wake up. I’m not doing this alone, you hear me?”
After a few more pats and murmured reassurances, his eyelids fluttered open, and he blinked up at you, dazed and confused.
“Y/N?” he mumbled, his voice slurred. “What… what happened?”
“You fainted, you big idiot,” you said, the frustration in your tone softened by the overwhelming relief that he was okay. “Over three little tests.”
Bucky stared at you blankly, then his gaze drifted back to the sink where the tests still sat in a neat row, mocking him with their tiny positive signs.
“Oh… right,” he murmured, his face scrunching up as he tried to process it all again. “So it wasn’t a dream?”
“Nope.” You shook your head, giving him a half-smile. “Definitely not a dream.”
“Damn,” he breathed, a small, disbelieving laugh escaping him as he ran a hand through his hair. “I really fainted, huh?”
“Yeah, you did,” you replied, unable to keep the amusement out of your voice. “And you’re lucky I didn’t let you hit your head.”
He chuckled weakly, his gaze still lingering on the tests. Then, slowly, he reached up, his hand finding yours and squeezing gently.
“I love you, Y/N, you know that?” he mumbled, his voice soft and a little slurred as he still looked dazed. “Not like a friend, but y’know… like, love love.”
You blinked at him, surprised by the sudden confession. A laugh bubbled up in your throat, the ridiculousness of the situation hitting you all over again. “Bucky, you’re still out of it.”
“Yeah, probably,” he murmured, blinking up at you with a lopsided grin. “But doesn’t make it any less true.”
Shaking your head, you leaned down and pressed a kiss to his forehead, your smile softening. “I know, Buck. We’ll talk about that later when you’re not busy fainting over pregnancy tests, okay?”
“’Kay,” he mumbled, his eyelids drooping slightly. “But just… so you know.”
“I know,” you repeated gently, brushing a strand of hair away from his forehead. “Just rest for a second, and then we’ll figure this all out together.”
He nodded slowly, his eyes drifting shut for a moment before he opened them again, looking at you with a sleepy smile. “We’re really gonna be parents, huh?”
“Yeah,” you whispered, your heart swelling with affection. “We really are.”
“Cool,” he murmured, his head lolling back against the bathroom tiles. “Love you, Y/N… love love.”
You chuckled softly, shaking your head as you sat beside him, holding his hand. “Love you too, Bucky. Now, no more fainting, okay?”
“No promises,” he mumbled, but his grip tightened around your hand, as if even in his half-conscious state, he didn’t want to let go.
And as you sat there on the bathroom floor, Bucky still looking a little woozy but smiling up at you with that goofy, endearing grin, you couldn’t help but think that maybe — just maybe — everything was going to be just fine.
× × × ×
First Trimester.
The clock on the kitchen wall glowed a soft, accusatory 2:37 a.m. as Bucky shuffled groggily into the dimly lit space, scratching at his head. He was half-asleep, dressed in rumpled sweatpants and a t-shirt that had seen better days, and still trying to figure out why he’d been dragged from his warm bed.
He paused mid-step when he spotted you sitting at the kitchen table, your shoulders hunched, face buried in your hands. He blinked, his brain struggling to catch up with the situation. “Uh, sweetheart… what’s going on?”
Your only response was a pitiful sniffle, followed by another one. Bucky’s brows shot up in alarm, and he quickly moved to your side, crouching down in front of you.
“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” he asked softly, peering up at you with wide, concerned eyes. “Did something happen?”
You shook your head, letting out a small, hiccuping sob. “I… I really wanted… chocolate chip pancakes… with whipped cream and strawberries…”
Bucky blinked again, glancing around the empty kitchen as if he expected a stack of pancakes to magically appear on the counter. “Okay… uh… we don’t have any of that stuff right now, but I can go to the store—”
“Everything’s closed!” you wailed, cutting him off with a fresh wave of tears. “And I really wanted it now!”
The sheer devastation in your voice made Bucky’s heart clench in sympathy — but a very tiny, very unhelpful part of him also found it hilariously absurd. He had fought aliens, Hydra agents, and all manner of nightmares… but he’d never faced down a pregnant wife in the throes of a pancake craving at nearly 3 a.m.
“Oh,” he said lamely, scratching his head again as he tried to think of a solution that didn’t involve breaking into the nearest IHOP. “Okay, um… we can make pancakes without chocolate chips, right?”
“But I don’t want plain pancakes!” you cried, your voice wobbling dangerously. “I want chocolate chip pancakes! And… and I want whipped cream on top, but we don’t have any!”
Bucky swallowed, his panic rising as you continued to cry. He was the Winter Soldier, damn it. He could handle this. There had to be a way out of this. “Okay, alright. Just breathe, okay? How about… uh… what if I make you some toast? I’ll put some Nutella on it? It’s kind of like chocolate.”
“It’s not the same!” you sobbed, burying your face in your hands again. “I want… pancakes…”
Bucky let out a helpless laugh, running a hand down his face as he glanced at the empty fridge like it was somehow betraying him. “Baby, you’re killing me here.”
You sniffled, peeking out from between your fingers with watery eyes. “You don’t understand, Buck. I can taste the pancakes. I can taste the strawberries… I can feel the whipped cream…”
Bucky opened his mouth, then closed it again, at a complete loss for words. “Yeah, uh, I can’t pull that out of thin air. But…” He glanced around, his gaze falling on a tub of vanilla ice cream in the freezer. “What if I make you a sundae? It’s kinda like a pancake… just cold.”
“No…” You shook your head, another tear rolling down your cheek. “It’s not pancakes…”
Bucky let out a long, dramatic sigh, his hands resting on his knees. “Okay, okay. Here’s the deal. Tomorrow morning, I’m gonna wake up, and I’m going to go get you all the chocolate chips and whipped cream and strawberries you want, alright? I’ll make a pancake buffet.”
“But I want it now,” you murmured miserably, rubbing at your eyes.
“I know, sweetheart. I know,” he cooed gently, reaching out to pat your head awkwardly. “But unless you want me to bust into some diner and get myself arrested, I’m gonna need you to hang in there for a few more hours.”
Your lips trembled, and you nodded reluctantly, sniffling again. “I’m being ridiculous, aren’t I?”
Bucky smiled softly, his heart melting a little. “Nah. You’re growing a tiny human.” Then, with a mischievous glint in his eyes, he added, “Although, I gotta say, if I can handle your craving meltdowns, I think I deserve some kind of medal. Or at least, like… superhero husband status.”
A small, watery laugh escaped you despite yourself, and Bucky’s smile widened triumphantly.
“There she is,” he murmured, leaning up to press a kiss to your temple. “Look, we can’t have pancakes right now, but how about we get creative? Maybe I can whip something up with what we do have? I’m talking PB&J sandwich sculptures. Or,” he gasped dramatically, “a waffle made out of popcorn!”
Your eyebrows furrowed, but the corners of your mouth twitched. “Popcorn waffles?”
“Hey, don’t knock it ‘til you try it,” he said with an exaggeratedly serious expression. “This could be a revolutionary invention, Y/N. We could change the breakfast game forever.”
You couldn’t help but giggle, wiping at your tears as Bucky’s ridiculousness slowly chased away the lingering sadness. “You’re such a weirdo, you know that?”
“Yeah, but you married me,” he shot back, a grin spreading across his face. “So who’s the real weirdo?”
“Still you,” you teased softly, shaking your head.
Bucky let out a mock gasp, clutching his chest dramatically. “Wow, so rude. No respect for the man who’s about to go MacGyver your snack cravings at 3 a.m.”
You smiled despite yourself, reaching out to take his hand. “Thank you, Buck.”
“Anything for you, sweetheart,” he murmured, squeezing your hand gently. “Now, what do you say we get a little creative in this kitchen and see if we can’t make something that’ll make these pancake cravings shut up for a bit?”
“Okay,” you agreed, the warmth of his hand in yours grounding you. “But I’m holding you to that pancake buffet tomorrow morning.”
“Pancake buffet with extra chocolate chips, whipped cream, and strawberries,” he promised with a mock salute. “You’ve got my word.”
And as Bucky scoured the pantry for the weirdest possible combinations — “How do you feel about a peanut butter, banana, and potato chip sandwich?” — you couldn’t help but laugh, the weight of your cravings lightening in the face of his relentless optimism and willingness to do whatever it took to make you smile.
“World’s best husband,” you murmured fondly as he started arranging sandwich slices into a goofy face.
“Damn right,” he replied with a wink, holding up the plate proudly. “And this? This is my masterpiece.”
You took one look at the ridiculous sandwich sculpture — a lopsided smile made from pickle slices and a beard of crumbled crackers — and the tears came flooding back, but this time they were unstoppable.
“Bucky… you’re… you’re the best husband… in the world!” you sobbed, your shoulders shaking as you buried your face in your hands.
“Whoa, whoa, wait—hold on!” Bucky stammered, his eyes widening in alarm as he quickly set the plate down and moved back to your side. “What… why are you crying? Sweetheart, it’s just a sandwich! A really ugly sandwich, but—”
You let out another wail, shaking your head as more tears spilled over. “No, it’s not that! It’s you! You’re just so—so good, and sweet, and—and I don’t deserve you!”
Bucky froze, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. 
“Wait, what? Where did that come from?” He rubbed the back of his neck, glancing around as if he expected someone to pop out with a manual for how to handle this. “Hey, you deserve everything, okay? Even pancakes at 3 a.m. if I could make it happen.”
“I just… you’re always trying so hard, and you’re just… you’re amazing,” you whimpered, reaching out to grab his hand like it was a lifeline. “And I’m crying because I can’t have pancakes, and I’m a mess, and you’re making me a weird pickle-beard sandwich…”
Bucky stared at you, completely lost, before he finally let out a helpless, incredulous laugh. “Okay, okay, I’m officially out of my depth here,” he muttered, gently pulling you into his arms and patting your back awkwardly. “But hey, let’s save the compliments for when I’m not half-asleep, yeah?”
You nodded miserably against his chest, your sobs starting to subside as his steady heartbeat grounded you.
“Good, because you’re gonna make me cry if you keep this up,” he joked softly, running a soothing hand through your hair. “And no one wants to see the Winter Soldier ugly-cry over a pancake buffet.”
You let out a watery giggle at that, sniffling as you pulled back to look up at him. “You’re really gonna get me all the pancakes tomorrow?”
“Every last one,” he promised, his smile gentle and reassuring. “Now come on, let’s see if we can make this popcorn waffle thing work. You’ll need to tell our kid one day that their mom ate the weirdest thing ever while pregnant,” Bucky finished with a grin, his hand sliding down to gently cup your cheek as he wiped away the lingering tears with his thumb. “That way, when they give us a hard time as teenagers, I can say, ‘Hey, kid, I made your mom a popcorn waffle at 3 a.m. She bettered have loved me.’”
You laughed again, hiccupping through the tears as you tried to calm yourself. “You’re crazy, you know that?”
Bucky shrugged, his lips twitching up into a lopsided smile. “Maybe. But you married me, so what does that say about you?”
“That I’m a glutton for punishment,” you teased softly, feeling some of the tension start to ease as his thumb continued its gentle, comforting strokes on your cheek.
“Or just smart enough to know when you’ve got a good thing,” he murmured back, leaning down to press a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead. “And I’m gonna keep being that good thing — even when it means making bizarre snacks and wrangling your tears at stupid o’clock in the morning.”
You let out a shaky breath, smiling up at him as you looped your arms around his neck. “I love you, Bucky.”
His eyes softened, his gaze locking onto yours as he leaned in to nuzzle his nose against yours. “I love you too, sweetheart. And we’re gonna figure out this whole craving thing. Even if it means starting a midnight pancake truck or something.”
The image of Bucky in an apron, serving pancakes from a food truck, was so ridiculous that you let out a genuine, hearty laugh. “A pancake truck?”
“Why not?” He smirked, his fingers playing with a lock of your hair. “I’d be the hottest pancake chef around. We’d have a line out the door.”
“Because everyone’s desperate for pancakes at three in the morning?” you asked, still smiling.
“Exactly,” he said with a mock-serious nod. “They’d be calling me the Pancake Soldier instead of the Winter Soldier.”
You couldn’t help but burst into laughter again, your earlier tears completely forgotten. “I swear, you’re impossible, Bucky Barnes.”
“Impossible and all yours,” he said with a wink, then glanced at the kitchen. “Now, how about we whip up some sort of Frankenstein snack to tide you over until the morning, huh?”
With another sniffle and a smile, you nodded. “Alright. But I’m still holding you to that pancake buffet.”
“Wouldn’t dream of backing out,” he promised, kissing your forehead again before guiding you to a chair. “You sit right here, and let Chef Barnes work his magic.”
You watched as Bucky moved around the kitchen, his clumsy efforts at ‘creative’ snack-making bringing a smile to your face despite the ridiculousness of it all. He muttered under his breath, concocting weird combinations — “What if we crush some pretzels on top?” — and talking to the food like it would reveal some hidden trick.
Eventually, he managed to cobble together another makeshift treat: a peanut butter, banana, and honey sandwich with a few random M&Ms sprinkled on top for good measure. It looked as chaotic as you felt, but the effort and love behind it made your heart swell.
You stared at the messy sandwich, your lips trembling again — but this time with a whole different set of emotions.
“Hey, no more tears,” Bucky said quickly, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “I’m running out of ideas here, babe.”
“I’m not crying,” you sniffed, reaching out to take a bite. “It’s just… you’re really, really sweet, and I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Bucky let out a soft chuckle, reaching over to give your knee a gentle squeeze. “Lucky for you, you’ll never have to find out. I’m not going anywhere, okay?”
“Okay,” you whispered, your heart feeling lighter than it had all night.
“Good.” He smiled, leaning back in his chair as he watched you take another bite. “Now eat up, because come morning, I’m getting up at dawn to get everything we need for that pancake buffet. You’re gonna be the happiest pancake-eating pregnant lady in the world.”
“And you’re gonna be the best pancake-making husband in the world,” you replied with a soft smile, warmth spreading through your chest.
“Damn right,” Bucky murmured, his voice filled with so much affection it made your heart skip a beat.
As you finished the bizarre snack and Bucky continued to ramble on about potential pancake flavors and topping combinations, you couldn’t help but feel overwhelmingly grateful.
Because, bizarre cravings and all, there was no one else you’d rather navigate the chaos with than him — your best friend, your partner, your ridiculous, wonderful Bucky Barnes.
× × × ×
Third Trimester
Bucky’s overprotectiveness had started out in small, endearing ways—like lingering in doorways or making sure you had an extra pillow at night. But as your pregnancy progressed, so did his paranoia, turning him into an almost comical shadow of your once-confident, battle-hardened husband.
It began with the shoelaces.
“Wait, wait, wait.” He practically skidded across the living room to kneel at your feet just as you were about to bend down to tie your sneakers. You straightened up, raising a brow, watching him fumble with the laces like it was a complex puzzle rather than a simple bow.
“Bucky, it’s just tying my shoes. I can do that,” you pointed out gently, but he shook his head fervently.
“Not risking it. What if you lose your balance?” His words were muffled as he double-knotted the laces, his shoulders hunched like he was shielding you from some invisible force.
“I’m not gonna lose my balance,” you murmured, amused. “I’ve been tying my own shoes for decades.”
“There’s a first for everything.” He tightened the bow a little too firmly, making you flinch. He winced in apology and adjusted it again, softer this time, before peering up at you with those intense blue eyes, a mix of worry and resolve. “Humor me, okay?”
You sighed, relenting with a small nod. “Okay. But just so you know, you’re not going to be doing this every single time.”
He grinned—victorious, as if you hadn’t noticed how he conveniently “lost” all your slip-ons just last week.
Then there was the laundry basket incident.
It happened when you were carrying a half-full basket of towels from the dryer. You’d barely made it halfway down the hall when Bucky materialized out of nowhere, intercepting you like you were carrying live explosives.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa—what do you think you’re doing?” His voice was all mock-seriousness, but there was genuine concern underlining it as he gently pried the basket from your hands.
“Laundry?” you deadpanned, trying to tug it back, but he held firm.
“Not anymore, you’re not.” He shot you a look that dared you to argue as he held the basket up high, well out of your reach. “You don’t need to be lugging this around.”
“It’s not even heavy!” you protested, exasperation seeping into your tone.
He scoffed. “Doesn’t matter. I’ll take it. Just point me to where you want it.”
Grumbling, you pointed down the hallway. “Our bedroom.”
“See?” he said with a self-satisfied smile, striding down the hall like he was conquering new territory. “No big deal.”
You had to fight back an eye roll. “You’re gonna be like this until the baby is born, aren’t you?”
“Probably,” he called over his shoulder, unashamed.
It didn’t stop there, of course. In the kitchen, he’d barely let you near the sink.
One morning, you’d decided to tackle the breakfast dishes—something you could usually manage without too much hassle. But as soon as you set the first dish into the soapy water, Bucky’s hand appeared out of nowhere, lightly shoving you to the side.
“Excuse me,” he muttered, though it was clear he wasn’t asking for permission. “Your belly’s gonna bump into the counter. Let me do it.”
“Bucky—”
“Let. Me. Do it,” he insisted, holding a soapy plate hostage as he gazed at you, lips set in a stubborn line.
With a sigh, you threw your hands up in surrender. “Fine. But I’m not a porcelain doll, okay? I can do dishes just fine.”
“Sure,” he replied, but he was already washing the dishes with focused precision, occasionally glancing at you to make sure you hadn’t slipped or stumbled in the two feet he’d moved you back.
It was both infuriating and endearing, and it made you love him even more—though you’d never admit it when he was acting like a hovering mother hen.
The grocery trips were almost unbearable. He’d insisted on coming along, despite your reassurances that you were perfectly capable of picking up a few items.
“We need milk,” you pointed out, motioning toward the far end of the aisle.
“Got it,” he said immediately, guiding the cart forward with one hand and slipping his other arm around your waist as if to support your entire body weight.
You shot him a look. “I can still walk, you know.”
“Of course you can,” he agreed with a grin. “I’m just… helping you waddle.”
“Waddle?” You narrowed your eyes, smacking his arm lightly. “Did you just call me a waddler?”
“Um…” He glanced at you sheepishly, realizing his mistake a second too late. “No?”
“Yeah, nice try.” You huffed, crossing your arms.
“Alright, alright, bad choice of words. I’m just keeping pace with you,” he corrected, slowing his stride even more so that the two of you were practically moving in slow motion down the aisle.
You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head at the ridiculousness of it all. “If we go any slower, we’ll start moving backwards.”
Bucky just chuckled, his arm tightening around you protectively. “I’ll take my chances.”
By the time you reached the milk, you were almost tempted to ask him to sprint the rest of the way just to get it over with. But the truth was, there was something undeniably sweet about having Bucky hover around like this.
“Let me guess,” you teased as you plucked a carton of milk off the shelf. “You want to carry this too?”
“Of course,” he said, already reaching for it, his expression deadly serious.
You held on to the carton just long enough to make him sweat before handing it over. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”
“Unbelievably in love with you,” he replied easily, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your temple.
“Smooth,” you muttered, your lips twitching into a reluctant smile.
With Bucky being his overprotective self, you had no doubt that he’d be like this for the next few months—and likely long after the baby was born. But as much as you complained, deep down, you knew you wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.
× × × ×
“Bucky, for the last time, it’s just a shoe box,” you emphasise, glancing at your husband as he carefully hoists the empty box off the couch like it’s made of glass.
“Doesn’t matter,” he mumbles, eyes darting suspiciously to the plain cardboard. “You shouldn’t be carrying anything in your condition.”
“Condition? Bucky, I’m pregnant, not broken.” You cross your arms, watching as he tucks the box under his arm like it’s a rare artefact. The man is a walking, talking fortress of muscle, but right now, his overprotectiveness is reaching absurd levels.
“And nearly at your due date,” he points out, placing the box on the counter with a sigh of relief as if he’s saved you from imminent danger. “I’ve read all the books. I know how this goes.”
You snort, shaking your head. “Oh, yeah? So what’s the worst that could happen if I pick up a shoe box?”
Bucky turns to you with a dead-serious expression. 
“It’s not about the weight. It’s about…” he falters, eyes scanning your swollen belly, “…stability. Your centre of gravity is off right now. A box could trip you.”
“A box could trip me?” You arch a brow, incredulous. “Really?”
“Yes!” His tone is insistent, and you have to bite back a laugh. This is the same man who once told a pack of HYDRA agents they were outnumbered—just because it was him and Steve versus a dozen of them. But now, he’s reduced to eyeing an empty cardboard box like it’s a mortal enemy.
Sighing, you sit back on the couch, deciding it’s not worth the argument. Besides, there’s a certain charm in seeing the Winter Soldier so worked up over an inanimate object. You lean back, letting out a small groan as you shift your weight.
Bucky’s been hovering around you all day like a lost puppy, eyes following your every move. The moment you make the slightest sound, his head whips around, concern flickering in his eyes. So when you groan, immediately, he’s by your side, eyes wide, hands hovering over your belly.
“What? What’s wrong? Is it time? Should I get the bag?”
“Calm down, Dad-mode. I’m just stretching.” You roll your eyes, but you can’t hide the smile tugging at your lips. “You’ve gotta stop panicking every time I make a sound.”
“Every time you make a sound, it could be something serious!” Bucky exclaims, sounding almost affronted. “Do you know what it’s like hearing you groan and not knowing if it’s ‘I want ice cream’ or ‘I’m about to go into labor’?”
“Sounds like a personal problem,” you tease.
He huffs, muttering something about ‘pregnancy hormones,’ and kneels down in front of you. Strong hands lift your foot gently, and he starts massaging your arch. You sigh, instantly melting under his touch.
“Better?” His voice is softer now, concern etched in every syllable.
“Much better,” you mumble, letting out a little moan as he presses down on a particularly tight knot.
“Hey, hey, hey!” Bucky freezes, eyes wide again. “What’s that? Pain?”
“Relax,” you say, though your voice is slightly breathless. “It’s the good kind of pain. Keep going.”
You lean your head back, closing your eyes as Bucky continues the foot massage. The man has hands that could crush stone, but right now, he’s so gentle you almost feel like you’re floating. It’s hard not to feel a little spoiled under his doting care.
But just when you’re getting lost in the bliss of his hands working away the tension, you catch his face out of the corner of your eye. Bucky’s brow is furrowed, and his expression is one of fierce concentration, like he’s facing down a particularly difficult opponent. You stifle a giggle—only Bucky could make a foot massage seem like a high-stakes mission.
“Alright, alright, enough of that,” you say, reaching down to tug on his hand. “If you keep looking at my foot like that, you might set it on fire.”
Bucky blinks up at you, clearly having forgotten where he was. He chuckles, the sound low and almost shy. “Can’t help it. I just… I want to make sure I’m doing it right.”
“Bucky, it’s a foot massage, not defusing a bomb.” You roll your eyes again, but your heart swells at his concern. “You’re doing it perfectly.”
A faint blush colors his cheeks, but he lets out a small huff, pretending to be grumpy. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
Then, without warning, he shifts beside you on the couch, a determined look settling on his face. “Now, hold still.”
Before you can ask what he’s up to, Bucky leans down, pressing his ear gently against your belly. You’re about to ask him if he’s comfortable, but the sheer look of wonder on his face stops you short. His eyes close, and he inhales deeply, as if trying to capture every little movement your baby girl makes.
“Hey, there, sweetheart,” Bucky murmurs softly, his voice dropping to a gentle whisper. His fingers splay across your belly, his thumb tracing small, soothing circles. “It’s your dad. Just wanted to check in on you, make sure you’re being good for your mama.”
You bite your lip, warmth spreading through your chest at the sight. The fierce Winter Soldier, the man with a list of enemies longer than most people’s grocery lists, reduced to talking softly to your baby girl like she’s the most delicate thing in the world.
“She’s probably plotting her escape already,” you joke quietly, and Bucky grins up at you.
“Nah,” he says, eyes crinkling at the corners. “She’s too busy practicing her karate kicks. Isn’t that right, little one?”
Right on cue, a small flutter against your belly answers him, and Bucky’s eyes light up like fireworks. He leans down again, pressing his lips gently against the spot where your baby kicked.
“Whoa, easy there, sweetheart,” he murmurs, a playful smile tugging at his lips. “Save the punches for when you’re out here. We’ve got plenty of training sessions ahead of us.”
You snort, shaking your head at his words. “Bucky, she’s not even born yet, and you’re already planning training sessions?”
“Gotta start ‘em young,” he says seriously, but the way he softens his voice when he turns back to your belly is anything but tough. “But don’t worry, we’ll take it easy. I’ll make sure you get to be a kid and have fun first. No one’s gonna mess with you. Not when I’m around.”
He pauses, his eyes misting over for a brief moment, and you know he’s thinking about everything he’s been through—everything he wants to shield your daughter from. Slowly, he rubs his thumb along your belly again, his touch featherlight.
“And you’re gonna love your mama,” Bucky continues softly. “She’s strong, and she’s funny, and—” He glances up at you, his smile turning mischievous. “She’s a little bit stubborn sometimes. But you’re gonna be just like her, I bet.”
“Great,” you mutter, faking a groan. “Two of you plotting against me.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Bucky promises, but the glint in his eyes tells you he’s already imagining all the ways he’ll spoil his little girl.
He shifts again, his head still resting on your belly, and you have to stifle another laugh as he starts a running commentary, complete with exaggerated gestures.
“Okay, so here’s the plan,” he whispers conspiratorially to your baby. “When you get here, you’re gonna kick a lot. Cry a lot. But not too much. Your mama needs her sleep. Then, we’ll team up to get you extra dessert when she’s not looking.”
“Bucky!” You can’t help it—you burst out laughing. “You can’t be plotting behind my back already!”
He grins, looking up at you with mock innocence. “Hey, it’s not my fault if she wants ice cream. Right, sweetheart?”
A few more soft kicks seem to echo his words, and you can’t help but roll your eyes.
“I’m doomed,” you say, shaking your head fondly.
“No, you’re not,” Bucky murmurs, his voice softening again. He presses one more kiss against your belly before shifting to sit up beside you. He wraps an arm around your shoulders, tugging you gently against his side. “You’re gonna be the best mom. And I’m gonna be right here, making sure you both have everything you need.”
You lean into his warmth, smiling as his hand drifts back to your belly, tracing idle patterns.
“I love you,” you whisper, resting your head against his shoulder.
“And I love you,” he replies, voice deep and steady. He leans down, kissing the top of your head. “Both of you.”
With Bucky holding you close and whispering to your daughter, you feel your heart swell with a contentment so strong it almost aches. It’s moments like these that remind you just how lucky you are to have this overprotective, sweet man by your side.
Even if he does go overboard sometimes.
2K notes · View notes
moonlightspencie · 4 months ago
Text
don't want you like a best friend
Description: James is nervous about his inexperience with girls. Luckily he has a best friend who's more than willing to help. (based on an idea formed in part by @amiableness. check out the post)
Pairing: best friend!James Potter x fem!Reader
Warnings: DESPERATE!james, inexperienced!james, blowjob (m receiving), porn with barely any plot
Word Count: 2.5k
a/n: kind of muggle!au? doesn't really matter in the context of this though lmao
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You walked into James's flat, quite pleased he'd given you a key. It was much easier to bother him whenever you pleased when you could just waltz in any time.
"James!" you called out, toeing off your shoes.
"In here!" he shouted back.
You followed his voice to his room, seeing him laying on his tummy watching tv. You ran up to his bed and flopping down on it next to him. He laughed in that squeaky, joyful way he only ever seemed to do around you.
"Hi," he greeted with a cheeky smile.
"Hi," you replied with an equal grin, then glanced at the television. "What are you watching?"
"Nature documentary about penguins," he responded simply.
You glanced up at him with a quirked brow. "Why?"
"Cause I like penguins," he shrugged.
"...we need to get you a girlfriend."
He went a little quiet, prompting you to look at him again. You tilted your head.
"James?"
He chewed his lip. "I– I do kind of have a date. Tomorrow."
"What?" you exclaimed, suddenly sitting up straight. "Who? Since when?"
His cheeks went a little pink. "Sirius set it up for me."
"Oh my god! Why didn't you tell me?!"
"I'm nervous!"
You chuckled softly, still in a bit of disbelief. The boy had been single for far too long in your opinion, especially considering how much girls threw themselves at him in school. He always said that it was just because he had high standards, but part of you was half-convinced he must be terrified of girls. Or commitment. Maybe both.
"I just... I can't believe it. Is she cute?"
He almost grimaced. Not a great sign.
"Uh oh," you snorted a laugh.
"It's not that she's ugly! She's... she is pretty, its just," he sighed, shrugging a little, "she's not really my type, I guess."
"At this point, I'm beginning to believe you don't have a type."
He frowned. "Hey."
"Just saying, James. You never date, and it's not for lack of girls who like you."
"I kind of have to like them back for that to work."
"You sure you're not scared of girls?" you asked with a laugh.
He chuckled a little, shaking his head. "No."
"Commitment?"
"No."
"...Sex?"
"Ugh, don't say that," he groaned, dropping his face against the mattress.
You laughed again. "Sounds like a yes. It's really not that scary."
"It's kinda scary," he mumbled against his comforter.
"James," you called quietly, resting your cheek on the mattress to look at him.
He turned his face towards you, his cheeks pink and his hair even messier than usual. His lips were slightly pouty. Frankly, it was absolutely adorable.
"Everyone but me has done it at this point. The furthest I ever got was touching a boob over clothes in fifth year."
You couldn't help but to laugh at that, causing him to whine your name in protest.
"Sorry..." you said, not all that apologetic. "It's just... cute. You get so flustered. It's really not a big deal."
"It is a big deal to me."
"Aw. I'm sorry, Jamie. I just mean that nobody's going to fault you for being inexperienced."
"They might!"
"No they won't."
"You don't know that."
"At any rate, I think it's sweet."
"But I'm not having sex with you," he argued, then snapped his mouth shut, his cheeks going even darker. "That sounds... I'm sorry."
"Don't be sorry," you ran a hand through his hair, and he leaned into the touch. "I just mean to say that I'm sure if I think it's sweet, other girls would also probably think it's cute."
"I'm a man. I shouldn't be cute, I should be... strong and masculine. Hot."
"You're very hot, James."
He sighed, still pouting a little.
"Put that lip away," you muttered, tapping his bottom lip.
"You're being mean."
"No, I'm not."
"You're teasing me," he pouted again.
"What? How?"
"You're very hot, James," he mocked in an overly-high-pitched voice.
You snorted a laugh. "Heaven forbid I tell my hot best friend that he is, in fact, hot."
He fell quiet for a moment. "You really think so?"
"Of course I do."
"Mm," he hummed softly, then sighed. "Why can't there be more girls like you?"
"What's that supposed to mean?" you asked, smiling curiously.
"You're always so sweet to me. I just wish there were more girls who act like you, cause then I could just... do it with them and not be so worried about it."
You raised your brows, trying to hold back another laugh. "Oh, really?"
"Don't tease me."
"I'm not. Just, why don't–" you stopped abruptly.
He looked at you with wide eyes. "What?"
"If you're so worried about getting your first time over with, then why don't you just do it with me?"
He looked like he got the wind knocked out of him in that moment, blinking a few times as if he was trying to wake up from a dream. He opened his mouth a few times, though no sound came out.
"I just mean that... you said you'd do it with a girl like me, so why not me? You trust me, I know what I'm doing, you know I won't judge," you listed off some reasons. "It could work, you know?"
"Cause you're... you're my best friend."
"And?"
"And friends don't do that."
"Friends do that all the time," you replied with a shrug.
"What?" he asked, looking totally mortified.
"Friends have sex all the time."
"Since when?"
"Since forever," you chuckled a little. "I'm not saying we have to. Just putting it out there, since you're so nervous about it and all."
"I–I don't..."
"You don't have to say yes."
"I know," he nodded, looking a little uncomfortable. "It's just... I don't think I'm ready to do all of that right now."
You smile a little. "I'm not saying I'd take you to pound town right now..."
"Ugh," he groaned.
"Sorry. I just mean to say that, if you wanted to, we could start slow. Work you up to the main event."
He chewed his lip, looking away from you. You sighed softly, then stood from the bed.
"Alright. Let's go and grab a snack or something and take your mind off all this. Stop stressing so much," you said, trying to grab his arm to pull him up.
He shook his head. "Can't."
"What? Yes, you can."
"No, I can't," he emphasized, his cheeks still dark.
"Why not."
He stared at you for a moment, then whined, dropping his head into the comforter again. He mumbled something into the fabric, causing you to groan in annoyance.
"What are you saying? I can't hear you when you mumble."
"You don't understand," he said, looking at you again with a pouty face. "You're not a guy."
"What the hell is that supposed to... Oh," your eyes widened. You let out a disbelieving, delighted little giggle. "Are you–"
"Please don't talk about it. It'll make it worse," he said quickly in his whiny little voice.
"Aww. Poor baby."
"Stop it."
"Let me see."
His eyes widened comically. "What?"
"Let me see. Come on, turn over," you giggle, trying to turn him.
"Lovie, no, I..."
"Please?" you pouted, knowing he could never resist it.
He whined. "Please don't. It's embarrassing."
"It's hot."
He gulped. "...It is?"
You nodded. "Yeah. It's kind of flattering, too. The fact that I barely suggested it and you got all excited."
"It's not my fault. I just... my brain started thinking..."
"Yeah, brains tend to do that," you joked, relishing in him being all flustered. It was so unlike his usual demeanor. "Come on, Jamie. I just want to see."
He swallowed, nodding a little awkwardly before he turned onto his back. You smirked a little to yourself at the obvious bulge in his sweatpants. You sat back on the bed right next to him, glancing back at his nervous face.
"Can I touch?"
"I... I don't know."
"Just over the pants right now."
He considered it for a few moments, before taking a deep breath, nodding.
"Okay," he said quietly, his hands balling into fists.
You smiled. "Relax."
You let your hand rest on his thigh first, watching him as his eyes trailed your every move. You slowly slid up his leg, teasingly, just so you could see him sweat a little at the thought of being touched for the first time. He was generally quite confident, but somehow missed out on anything and everything intimate outside of kissing.
He sucked in a breath as you reached his hip, looking as if he could pass out.
"Hey," you said gently, trying to catch his eye. "Take a deep breath. Relax. It's supposed to feel good."
He sniffed, nodding shakily. "Y-yeah. Sorry."
"Don't apologize, Jamie. Just... relax. Okay?"
"Okay."
You let your hand move again, barely ghosting over his bulge, the tips of your fingers touching the fabric of his sweatpants. You looked up at his face. His cheeks were red, and his eyes were wide and almost glossy. His pretty, pouty lips were just barely parted as he waited in anticipation for your next move.
You lowered your hand, gripping him gently through his pants, forcing a shaky gasp through his lips. You smirked to yourself a little, stroking him through his pants.
"Feels good, huh?" you asked in a quiet voice.
He opened his mouth to respond, but all that came out was a pathetic little moan. You chuckled at the sound, stroking him again. He was bigger than you expected him to be, but not terribly massive. His hips bucked into your hand, another soft whine coming from him.
"Aww. You like it, huh?"
He nodded, breath coming in short.
"Can I do a little more?"
"Uh..."
"I think you'll like it."
"M-maybe," he gasped out, looking utterly wrecked already.
"Can I take off your pants?"
He looked at your face again. "Huh?"
"Can I take them off? I wanna touch you," you stated simply.
He whimpered. "Um... For... for what?"
You furrowed your brow. "So I can feel you. I just want to touch your skin. It'll feel better for you, too. You touch yourself, right?"
"I... Y-yeah. Yeah, sometimes."
"And I assume you don't do it through your pants, right?" you laugh a little.
He merely swallows, nodding dumbly. "Right."
"So... Can I touch you like that? I won't do it unless you say yes."
"Oh..." he sucked in a shaky breath. "O-okay."
"Okay?"
"Yes."
You smiled, hooking your fingers in his sweatpants and underwear. "Hips up, please."
He followed your instructions easily, lifting his hips for you. You tugged everything down in one go, leaving it all pooled at his ankles on the bed. You nearly moaned yourself when you saw him, hard and leaky and ready. You traced his dick softly with your fingertips, impressed with him, and drawing another moan from his lips.
"So pretty, Jamie. Look at you."
"Don't... fuck," he gasped. "Don't say that."
"I mean it. Your cock is perfect."
He whimpered again, sounding like he could cry. You wrapped a hand around him, stroking him softly as hips bucked into your hand, soft moans and squeaks leaving him in utter desperation.
"P-please," he begged, staring at you as if you hung the stars.
"Please?"
"I... I don't know," he shook his head, his lip quivering.
"You need more?"
He sniffled, nodding quickly. "So bad. Please."
"Can I suck your cock, love?"
The sound that left his lips was utterly pornographic, his chest heaving like he'd run a marathon.
"God..."
"That's not my name, baby," you stroke him again. "I need you to say yes if this is what you want."
"Y-yes. Fuck yes," he said, his hips still shifting under you, trying to get more friction from your hand.
"So needy," you chide jokingly, moving to settle between his legs.
He whined watching you climb between his legs, nearly hyperventilating at the sight and feeling of you kissing along his stomach with your hand pushing his shirt up.
"So pretty," he groaned, stroking your hair.
You smiled against his stomach, licking nearly up to his chest just to hear him make that sound again. You kissed back down his stomach, barely ghosting over the tip of his cock at you looked back up at him.
"Ready?"
He nodded, in a trance as he watched you. You kept his eye contact as you darted your tongue out, tasting him for the first time. He practically sobbed in pleasure, pulling on your hair slightly.
"Told you it would feel good, baby," you mutter, licking from base to tip as he squirmed under your touch. "Isn't this nice?"
"Mmmm..." he nodded, chest heaving.
"Good boy," you kissed his tip.
You stared up at him, smiling to yourself at his sweet little reactions as you started stroking him. He looked so adorable totally wrecked. Like he could pass out at any moment. You couldn't help but to want more.
You wet your lips, figuring you could probably fit most of him into your mouth in one go: so you decided to give it a go. You licked him once more, then shoved his cock down your throat, letting it hit far enough to make you gag.
He shouted, gasping for air before he fell into a puddle of moans and desperate praises of your name. You pulled off of him, but only for a second before you went back down, sucking on him as if your life depended on it. It felt like it did.
He gripped the fabric of his comforter, sobbing in pleasure as his hips jutted up into your mouth. You were about to pull off to make some sly remark, when he whimpered loudly, shooting his cum down your throat. You hummed around him, swallowing everything you could despite your utter surprise that he had finished so quickly. He whined and kept his grip tight in your hair until he was done, his seed dribbling past your lips as you couldn't quite swallow everything. You weren't sure if you'd ever witnessed someone cumming so much before.
You did your best to clean him off without making him overly-sensitive, and finally pulled off.
"Mm... Holy fuck, Jamie. You cum that much every time?” You ask, chuckling a little despite being wildly aroused.
He shook his head, sweaty and still whimpering.
"Awww," you cooed softly, reaching up to stroke his cheek. "You okay?"
"That... that felt..."
"What?"
"Best thing ever," he managed breathily.
You laughed. "Yeah?"
"Yeah," he uttered, a small smile on his face as he opened his eyes. "I... you're really good at that."
"Apparently too good," you snorted.
"Maybe," he nodded, then hummed softly in pleasure. "Sorry for cumming so fast."
"It was sweet."
"It's not sweet," he shook his head.
"I think so. You're so sensitive," you kissed his cheek.
He hummed again, then sighed softly. You watched him as he took a few steadying breaths before he moved his eyes back to you. He let his eyes linger on your form for several moments, then chewed his lip. He looked up at you, clearly debating something in his mind.
Then he smiled a little.
"Can I return the favor next time?"
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cazshmere · 3 months ago
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Astrology Observations Pt.7
materialist🔖
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DISCLAIMER: These are just my personal observations and are meant for entertainment purposes only; it may not resonate with everyone due to the nuances of astrology. Please respect my work and avoid copying or stealing it. Enjoy reading!! 🧚‍♀️🩷💐
🧚‍♀️ Every Aries/Scorpio placement I've known has weak eyesight and most definitely wears glasses 😂
🧚‍♀️ Speaking of Martian (aries and scorpio) placements, it’s so hard to NOT notice these people. They always grab people’s attention whenever they go lmao. The attention could be either good or bad but whatever it is people will always turn their heads whenever these baddies walk in!!
🧚‍♀️ Mercury at 11 or 23 degrees (Aquarius degrees) are often such unique and witty people. The type of people who wear two different colored socks lmao or just do stuff out of the norm😭, they are also very good at comebacks and have such a refreshing sene of humour
🧚‍♀️ Venus in the 3rd house in synastry could indicate going on short drives together, especially on a bike🤭
🧚‍♀️ Something I’ve noticed about venus square ascendant or venus square venus synastry is that it could potentially be one sided. Yes, there could be physical attraction BUT mutual love is usually not there. They are better off as friends tbh!
🧚‍♀️ Uranus in the 12th housers usually have no problem staying up late, either they’re texting people or playing games or watching videos. Either way they always end up sleeping super late or just have a very erratic and messy sleep schedule
🧚‍♀️ People talk about how Scorpios are so jealous and possessive about the people they like but have you seen a VIRGO? They’re the real winners for being super jealous and possessive . It could be over their friends, someone they’re dating or just people they’re really fond of!
🧚‍♀️ Pisces/Neptune in the 2nd or 3rd house can really benefit from listening to subliminals!
🧚‍♀️ 29° is not only a fame placement but also causes a lot of anxiety because it represents endings or transitions. The 29th degree is known as the "anaretic degree," a term derived from the Greek word "anareta," meaning "destroyer" or "bringer of endings." This degree marks the final and most intense degree of a sign, signifying the culmination of the sign’s energy. It leads to both high potential for significant events, such as fame, and heightened anxiety. The pressure to fulfill the sign's lessons before transitioning to the next creates a sense of urgency, sensitivity, and sometimes instability, contributing to stress and anxiety.
🧚‍♀️ I’ve noticed that this generation's pisces mars placements (especially men) are extremely defensive and aggressive for no reason. It makes sense because their Mars squares Pluto (Sagittarius)
🧚‍♀️ I had a question for y'all - Do you guys sometimes resonate WAY more with the planet person's description than the house person's? To some extent, everyone can resonate with both descriptions, but from what I’ve encountered, I sometimes don’t resonate AT ALL with the house person’s description despite being the house person. I experienced Venus in the 12th house synastry, and I was the house person, but let me tell you, I seemed a lot more invested in the person than they were with me 😭💀 and I resonated so DEEPLY with the planet person’s description. This has happened to me with 8th house moon synastry too, so I don’t know if this experience only occurs when there is water house synastry involved , but do let me know your experience!
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vxsellie · 12 days ago
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KINDLY, DARLIN' - 𝐸.𝑊
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summary. after seemingly endless days on the road, you find yourself at a random country bar in the middle of nowhere. entering with the sole goal of getting your hands on come kind of alcohol, your attention is soon drawn elsewhere. to a girl and her guitar. notes. ok funny story! this idea came to me from a 5 sec interaction i had with a complete stranger. i went out to a bar, gave ten bucks to the singer, & he said the line that the title is based off of , which the prompted my brain to conjure up an entire love story (he's prob double my age lets be so fr) Also! idk if any of u will like this comparison (if not, just ignore this). but, as i wrote this, i imagined ellie's voice like lucy gray's from the hunger game's. like the slight country drawl, strong vocals, yes yes yes yes Also x2! anyone who follows me should know that im absolute SHITTT at writing smut. but, for some reason, that doesn't seem to stop me from creating works of garbage for my own amusement. anyway, if you reach the smut & realize that it's literal trash, i won't blame u for clicking off of this. just a warning! warnings. brief mention of creepy old men at the bar, depictions of alcohol, public flirting ???, eventual smut, drunk sex in a bathroom LMAO, oral (r! receiving), fingering (r!receiving) wc. 5.1k
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𝓕uck your back hurts. Well, if you're being honest, everything hurts. Your neck, back, stomach, legs, hands. Everything that's capable of aching, does.
However, rather unfortunately, you suppose that's to be expected after driving for nigh two days straight in your shitty truck. It's a 90s pickup, the white paint peeling and the tires in desperate need of care. The beige seats are worn and stained, evidence of age having taken its toll on your poor vehicle.
In spite of your truck's needs, you're far more interested in your own ⎯ getting a damn drink.
You're currently coasting through the backroads of some small western town, streets made of dirt and buildings all decrepit. You've never heard of this place before, the name having already slipped your mind due to how utterly foreign it'd been to your mind.
Your headlights cast a yellow glow onto the dirt before you, your tires crunching against fallen leaves and loose rocks. You pass gas stations, wooden homes, dollar stores, an immeasurable amount of churches, and no liquor store. Most shop signs are staked into the dirt, the few billboards all dilapidated in some way ⎯ broken letters, flickering lights, or completely torn from the ground somehow.
Then, by either the grace of God or a wondrous turn of fate, your eyes stutter on a certain sign. A broken wooden one advertising a bar. Your interest is instantly piqued, wheel turning toward the building without hesitation.
You don't give yourself the chance to even think before you're hopping out of your truck and walking into the bar.
The moment you push open the wooden double doors, the sound of boisterous laughter and heavy cowboy boots meet your ears. Perfect.
You stand in place for a moment, craning your neck with narrowed eyes are you examine the atmosphere. To the left, there's a bar with almost every stool occupied by an overweight old man. To the right, there's a pair of barn doors with the word 'restrooms' carved into the wood. In the center of the space, there's bucking machine ⎯ a drunk teenage boy holding on for dear life while his group of friends cackle at him from the sidelines.
Then, on the side of the building opposite you, there's a small stage. It's only elevated a foot or so, wood rotting a bit on the edges. But you hardly care for the conditions of the stage itself. What you find yourself drawn to is the person on it.
In the center is a stool, an auburn haired woman perched atop it with an old guitar situated on her lap. She strums the instrument in an upbeat tempo, leaned forward slightly as she sings into the microphone before her. There's a small crowd in front of the stage, girls admiring and boys whistling.
Considering how run-down this town is, you hadn't expected to stumble across a bar that's so fucking packed. There's barely any open stools at the bar, the bathroom doors are rarely sitting still as people continue to pass through them, the mechanical bull being gifted coins non-stop. But you can't complain.
After so long alone on the road, it's nice to be in such an active atmosphere. It's not calming, of course, but you welcome it lovingly nonetheless.
Watching the auburn for a few moments longer, you then turn on your heel and saunter over to the bar. You're forced to sit beside someone as the lack of stools forbids you from not having a neighbor.
"What can I get'cha, hon'?" The bartender asks you with a tip of his cowboy hat. In his other hand, he wipes the outside of an octagonal glass cup.
"Got any whiskey?" You inquire, leaning your elbows on the sticky countertop.
"Mhm," He hums, turning around to grab a bottle from the shelves behind the bar. He sets the glass onto the counter with a light clink, popping the bottle open. "'N' how would ya like it?"
"Neat."
He nods once more, pouring the liquid into the glass with a flourish before sliding it across the wood toward you. The moment you grab it, he's turning away to tend to another patron. You drink it quickly, downing the glass in one large swig.
As you place the glass back onto the counter, you feel eyes boring into you. Hoping it's someone of interest to you, you turn only to find a duo of old men chuckling at you. Their cheeks are rosy, bellies full ⎯ therefore likely drunk. You roll your eyes as the bartender refills your glass without a word.
Now with an entirely new bit of determination, you down that glass even faster. Another refill. Another singular gulp. Another refill. Another gulp. Another. Another. Another.
You're now swaying a bit atop your stool, feeling pretty good all things considered. The men continue to gossip among themselves, pointing at your ass. You feel disgusted ⎯ not at yourself, but at them for their fucking audacity. Part of you wants to knock their teeth out. But you're not that drunk.
So, instead, you take the mature approach and simply pick up your glass and exit the scene. As you walk away, you hear their chuckles increase and you suddenly regret not punching them.
Your heavy boots thud against the wooden flooring as you walk aimlessly around the bar. You push through an amass of bodies, everyone too drunk to care for your harsh shoving. Then, before you know it, you find yourself situated in the very front of the stage, glass of whiskey in hand.
The woman's voice is laced with a slight country drawl, her boot tapping against the leg of her stool to count the beats of the song. She nods her head as she sings, a small grin lighting her features.
The dim lighting of the bar doesn't do her justice. But you still manage to notice the freckles that dot her face, the cupids bow to her upper lip, the small scar on her right eyebrow. Or maybe you're just drunk and enamored by her. God, what if she finds you creepy? What if she thinks you're some fucking creep? What if she⎯
She looks at you and you swear your heart gives out right then and there. And, if that weren't enough, she winks. You feel your cheeks heat up and you blame it on the alcohol. You down the rest of your whiskey, suddenly feeling very hot. A light chuckle shakes her chest, ringing throughout the space. Nobody else thinks anything of it, of course, all too drunk and preoccupied to give a shit. But you find yourself fantasizing about all the other ways you could make this woman laugh like that again. Oh fuck you are a creep.
In a desperate attempt to salvage the residual bits of dignity you have left, you pull twenty bucks from your back pocket and step forward to drop it into her open guitar case.
She raises a brow, tipping her cowgirl hat in your direction with a smirk. "Thank ya kindly, darlin'."
Somehow, she'd managed to thank you in tune with the song, keeping the beat going without missing a second. It's almost impressive. Okay, it's super impressive. In fact, you feel your heart speeding up again, mind playing on loop the sound of her addressing you. Her country drawl, her smirk, her long fingers grabbing the bridge of her hat. Fuck.
Impulsively, you end up turning on your heel and heading right back to that damn bar. The bartender just grins as he pours you another serving, likely having noticed the flush to your cheeks and the desperation of which you placed the glass down.
"Mind if I give y' some advice?" He asks, leaning forward a bit.
In an act of self pity, you don't have the energy to deny him. "Why the hell not?"
"I ain't gotta clue who you're blushin' over, but my advice is that." He nods toward something behind you. You cast a glance over your shoulder, eyes landing on the bucking machine. You almost laugh, turning back to him with an unimpressed expression. "Listen, y' ain't gotta be good. Y' jus' gotta move your hips right n' I swear he's all yours. Trust me. I've seen it work hundreds of times."
You don't dare to correct him on the gender of your current infatuation, instead deciding to take a few more drinks for a bit of liquid courage. I mean, seriously. How else will you get this woman's attention? Plus, what do you have to lose? You'll never see her again after tonight. The least you could do is try.
After another few drinks, you're staggering over to the mechanical bull with a few coins clutched tight in the palm of your hand. The wait for the stupid thing is way longer than necessary, everyone competing for the longest time lasted on the machine.
You lean your empty hand on the frame of the wooden fence that encircles the rider, watching with reddened eyes as yet another person is flung onto the ground with a heavy thud. He rubs his head with a groan, though his sounds of pain quickly fade into laughter as he brushes off his jeans and stands upright, returning to his boisterous friends with a crooked grin.
Unease begins to lick up your spine, the logical part of your brain wondering why the fuck you're doing this for some country chick you don't even know the name of. You're strong, sure, but your luck would lead you to breaking your neck.
You look over your shoulder casting a glance in the direction of the bar. The bartender gives you two thumbs up, flashing you a grin with missing teeth. As encouraging as that is, what really pushes you to continue is seeing those two old men. They're sitting side-by-side, lustrous smirks on their face as they stare at you, leaning over every few seconds to mutter something in the other's ear. Yeah. Fuck them. You're doing this.
As you make it to the front of the line, you're overcome with naught but confidence. Whether that be due to the sound of the woman's singing growing nearer or the sight of the gross old men, you don't know. Though, honestly, it's likely because of the sheer amount of whiskey you've downed in the past hour.
"Coins." The blonde woman demands, palm of her hand facing you like a bill you've been avoiding. You place the coins into her hand and she opens the gate, hinges squealing as the prior rider stumbles out with a streak of dirt under her eye.
You walk into the ring, feet staggering a bit already from your drunkenness. You hoist yourself onto the bull, situating yourself until you feel a bit less awkward atop the back of the metal animal.
It begins rocking slowly back and forth. You find it easy at first, not really needing to use your hands. You still do, though, not much trusting the machine to not throw you off the moment you let your guard down. It picks up the speed, more. More. More. More. And, before you know it, it's thrashing back and forth. You hold onto the saddle, a dazed smile spreading across your face as you find yourself having fun.
It spins in a circle, your eyes suddenly catching on the woman on stage. She has the perfect view of you from her pedestal, her stool bringing her higher than the crowd just as the bull brings you.
She's still singing into the mic, her voice drowned out by the sound of chatter and cheers ⎯ though you're not sure if they're directed toward you or her at this point.
You've stayed on longer than you anticipated, the ache in your back returning as the bull yanks and dives under you. But you hold on, suddenly remembering the bartender's advice. You don't want to switch up whatever tactic you accidentally built into habit, but the point of this is to get the woman's attention.
So you wait until it spins back around. Then, while her eyes are pinned to yours, you shift a bit, back moving more fluidly as you roll your hips against it. Nobody else would think anything of it, the act so subtle that you simply appear to have altered your position. But she noticed. You know she did. Because her voice caught in her throat, causing her to have to take a sip from her water and apologize into the mic before resuming.
Your confidence spikes at this, suddenly feeling much more egoistical than you did when she was a complete stranger you made eye contact with once. Now you know you have an effect on her.
So you do it again, maintaining eye contact as you roll your hips against the bull suggestively.
Just as before, nobody else pays any mind, far too focused on the fact that you're stayed on for so long to give a fuck about technique. Honestly, if anyone were to notice, it'd be those creepy old men. And, hopefully, they're aware that it's pointed at this woman and now them. Though you doubt they'd care. Creeps like them rarely do.
The singer, with her eyes now pinned to you ⎯ though, everyone's now are ⎯ switches her tone a bit. Her song alters from an upbeat bar tempo with little meaning to having more directed lyrics to a girl with mesmerizing eyes. Again, nobody else picks up on this. She sings about a random girl with stunning eyes, never digressing past that.
But you know; and she knows. And that's all that matters.
She sings a certain line, something more lustful about the way you look at her. Something suggestive about the way she's imagining you. You instantly falter, your grip slipping.
You fall to the ground with a thud, the entire bar making a sound of disappointment and empathy. You don't care, though, not giving a single damn about the bull riding. All you care for is that fucking singer.
You hit the ground, breath knocked from your lungs. You cough, pushing yourself onto your hands and knees. Your head spins, the alcohol finally catching up to you. Another cough is yanked from your heaving chest as you groan.
The blonde coin-collecting woman allows the next person into the ring, not waiting for you to give your say. As the next man enters, he offers you his hand. You, desperate for assistance, take it with a grateful smile. He hauls you to your feet, muttering quick compliments on your performance on the bull. You thank him before brushing past him and exiting the ring with staggering steps.
A few people from the crowd compliment you, offering words of encouragement for the 'next time you go up'. You give them half-hearted smiles, chest still aching slightly from your fall.
You shove through the crowd, nearing the restrooms you'd seen at the entrance. You push the doors open and head into the women's side.
You brace your hands on the edge of the sink, glancing in the mirror for a brief moment ⎯ examining the small cut on your cheekbone and the bruises that are beginning to form on your shoulder and hip. You then lean down, positioning your mouth under the faucet before turning on the water. You drink it, relishing in the taste of cool liquid rather than burning alcohol.
"Mm, look who it is."
You smack your head on the faucet with how quickly you straighten. You groan, rubbing your temple as you turn to face the person standing behind you. The singer. Well fuck, that makes the head smack twenty times more embarrassing.
Somehow, she's even more alluring up close. Her pale green eyes bore into you, lashes lidding them slightly. Her skin is lightly tanned, freckles likely produced from a life spent under the sun. Her forearm has a tattoo covering the rippled skin there, lean muscles adorning the rest of said arm.
You play off your staring by narrowing your eyes at her, "Followin' me, are ya?"
"Nah." She shakes her head, stepping forward to wash her hands in the sink beside yours. She tips her head down, looking at her hands as she scrubs, hat coming to block her face from your view. Unfortunate. "Jus' comin' t' wash the filth off my hands. I wouldn't worry, though, darlin', I'm sure that Smilton boy'll check up on ya."
Your brows furrow at this. "Smillin boy?"
"Smilton." She corrects you rather harshly, looking up to meet your eyes through the reflection of the mirror. "Farmer's boy. Rich. Brunette. Helped y' up after the bull."
Realization hits you like a brick. She's jealous. This woman that you've never met, this woman that you stressed over impressing, this woman that you bruised yourself to get the attention of. She's jealous because some farmer's boy helped you stand up. A smirk tugs at your lips, an idea lighting your mind.
"Hmm," You hum lowly, brushing past her to dry your hands on one of the scratchy white towelettes. "He is quite handsome, ain't he?"
"Suppose." She replies shortly.
Your smirk only deepens, drying your hands achingly slow. Because you know she's aware that she has no right to be jealous. And that only serves to make her more pissed off. How interesting.
"What's his first name, if y' don't mind me askin'?" You speak casually, talking with her as though everything that passed between you two prior to this hadn't happened at all. It's driving her insane and you can tell.
"I dunno." She says, turning the faucet off to dry her hands beside you. "Somethin' with a J?"
"Oh, c'mon," you coo, turning to her with those eyes you know she adores. "I know y' know more than jus' his last name."
She looks away, clearing her throat with a set jaw, "you're right. Know his first initial too. It's a J."
You chuckle lightly, releasing the towelette to trace your fingertips along the soft skin of her bicep. "Yeah? And what's your first initial?"
Her entire body seems to tense, breath hitching in reaction to your touch. She looks at you from under the bridge of her hat, green eyes glinting with something informal. Something unfit for a casual conversation between two strangers in the women's rest room. You feel your heart stutter at the sight, having to make an effort not to fall to your knees before her in this very moment.
"E," is all she whispers.
"Last name?" You whisper back, matching her for quietude.
"Williams." She manages.
You hum, eyes following the movements of your hand. Had you not been so drunk, you'd likely never have the balls to be so flirty to her. But, as it turns out, your intoxication is good for something. Well, something aside from staying on some metal bull.
"How pretty," you whisper, leaning forward so your mouth is now right beside her ear. Your breath fans across her skin as you continue. "Now tell me your full name, will ya?"
Her eyes are pinned to your face, pupils tracing your features as your hand traces her arm. She finds herself mesmerized by you, entranced by your every detail ⎯ the slope of your nose, the curve of your cheek, the arc of your brow, the height of your cheekbones, the line of your jaw. She imagines running her tongue along each of these points, imagines committing your to memory using naught but her mouth.
"Ellie." She replies finally, watching closely as your eyes raise to meet hers. Her heart stutters in her chest at that, as it always does when you make eye contact.
Your gaze flicks between her eyes and lips, hand slowly inching up her arm. "Ellie?"
The sound of her name rolling off your tongue is enough to send a spark of heat to her core. That paired with the way your fingers are lightly tracing up, up, up. You move your hand over her shoulder, along her collarbone, up the side of her neck, and finally rests to cup her cheek in your palm. She leans into the touch, eyes fluttering.
"You're such a fuckin' tease," she mutters, voice low as it's weighed down by desire and a deep need to feel your skin on hers.
You ignore her words and move to lean in close enough that your noses brush. Then, with your breath fanning across her skin, you ask, "this okay?"
She doesn't say anything, instead abandoning the towelette completely and grabbing your face in both her hands. With a sudden sense of ferocity, she presses her lips to yours, pulling your body flush against hers.
"I'll take that as a yes," you chuckle between kisses.
"Quiet," she murmurs, too needy for your touch to have time for conversation. As much as she loves hearing you talk, shed much rather talk via action rather than actual words.
You giggle against her lips, your arms coming up to wrap around her neck. She hums, hat falling to the tiled floor with a light brush. With each passing second, her actions become more and more desirous, suddenly pushing your back against the nearest wall. You let out a huff of air from the impact, your lips quirking up to form a small smile, regaled by Ellie's sudden desperation for you.
She tilts her head, peppering kisses down your chin and along your jaw. They're harsh and hungry, nipping your skin in some places purely to see your brow furrow at the feel of her teeth.
As she trails down to your neck, you tip your head back against the wall and open your eyes to blink up at the wooden ceiling. Your hands fist Ellie's hair as she leaves bruises down the column of your throat.
Still well and drunk, the room swirls around you. The lights seem to shift with each blink, making this all so much more intoxicating. Your nerves are already on edge due to the alcohol, so the feel of Ellie kissing them is absolutely maddening.
You feel as she presses kisses along your collarbone, tongue grazing the taut skin there. You shift, legs pressing together as she grows more sensual in her act of quick intimacy. This movement doesn't go unnoticed by her, however, her lips quirking into a small smile against your skin as she feels rather proud of how quick she's turned you to putty under her.
She moves across the bare skin of your chest, plump lips taking time to memorize each detail that adorns you. You move again, the heat between your legs growing harder to ignore.
"Patience, darlin'." She instructs. "I'll get there when I get there."
You frown at this, "well get there faster."
Her kisses suddenly cease, looking up at you through her lashes. She tilts her head at you innocently, blinking as she waits for you to correct yourself. To reword your restive demand. "Don't be rude, now."
You can feel your dignity push at the back of your throat, pride yearning for a moment to speak. Seeing as you're normally the one making orders, this feels quite stranger. But, after the long journey you've taken, you suppose you've earned a bit of time to sit back and let someone else take the lead.
Ellie draws a line of kisses between your breasts and down your stomach, kneeling before you as her head comes to situate itself in front of your waistband. You can't help but admire how she looks from here, hair in your hands as her eyes are pinned to your denim jeans as though it's a buffet and she's a man starved. After a moment, she lifts her head to look at you.
Eye contact. Sparks shoot through your body. Somehow, something as simplistic as meeting Ellie's gaze can make you feel indescribably nervous. Pale green irises bore into you, waiting for you to utter words of consent. You do so, giving her the go-ahead.
As soon as you do, Ellie wastes no time hooking her fingers through your belt loops and pulling your jeans to your knees. She leans forward, eyes lidded.
"Wait." You pant, tugging on her hair to halt her movements. She seems rather annoyed by your sudden interruption, but looks up at you kindly despite her own irritation. You rolls your eyes at her evident pique. "What if someone walks in?"
She sighs heavily at that. "I locked the door."
"Oh, okay." You nod. Though, just as she's about to lean forward again, you stop her once more. "Wait. How did you know to lock it? You were all pissy when you first came in here."
"I didn't know." She explains hastily. "I simply hoped."
You huff out a chuckle, shaking your head fondly at her admittance. Then, finally, you don't stop her when she leans forward.
She traces her tongue along the outside of your underwear, the fabric between you only adding to the pulsing in your pussy. A shiver wracks through you, causing Ellie to grab you by the hips to hold you still. She traces circles into your hips with her thumbs, a gentle motion when compared to the needy movements of her tongue as she draws small circles into your clit.
You tighten your grip on her hair, drawing a grunt from the back of her throat. The vibrations from her mouth against your pussy makes it hard to keep back your own noises.
When she finally shifts your panties to the side, you nearly collapse at the feel of her mouth against you. She licks a long stripe up your vulva, a shaky breath yanking from you. The sound only urges her further, taking one hand and drags her middle finger up your center. You shift, leaning heavily against the wooden walls as standing upright suddenly seems impossible. Then, without warning, two fingers shove right into your hole.
Your hips jolt, moving far more than initially seeing as Ellie is now only holding on with one hand. Whilst thrusting her fingers in and out of your needy pussy, her tongue circles your clit with that same neediness, mirroring you for desperation.
Your head falls back, thudding lightly against then wall. At the sound, Ellie ceases. You almost whine at her sudden stopping.
"My eyes are down here, darlin'." She says lowly. "Let me see you."
Begrudgingly, you oblige, lowering your head to make eye contact with Ellie. She's on her knees, legs folded against tiled flooring as she resumes her lapping. You huff out an airy moan as you have to actively stop yourself from tipping your head back again. She holds your gaze the entire time, adding to the intensity of the feel. Her eyes are lidded, shoulder moving as her fingers recommence.
This all paired with your dizzy head and swimming vision makes for quite the climax, core knotting progressively as Ellie doesn't dare to stop. "Fuck," you pant as you buck your hips against her face, forced to watch as you do so. With another heavy breath and an arching back, you utter, "I'm⎯"
She seems exponentially proud as she hears you say this, regardless of if you finish your sentence or not. She pauses only for a moment to say, "yeah?"
"Mhm," you hum, though it comes out more of a moan than anything.
"Do it, darlin'."
And you do, coming undone right atop her face. She, admittedly, relishes in it, hydrated only by what you're able to provide her with. You see stars and they're swimming too, circling your head in a celestial body of pleasure. And Ellie watches, for once allowing your head to fall back as she deems this a one time exception. Because there will be a next time.
You're panting as you lower your head to face her once more, her gaze never having left your expression. She makes out with your pussy sensually as to bring you down from your high. Then, as gently as she can, she situates your panties back on correctly and pulls your jeans to rest as your hips, remaining knelt in front of you as she zips and buttons them just as she'd found them.
You watch with a twinkle of fondness behind your irises, unable to look away from the expression of adoring concentration she wears. She then uses your hips as a support system to haul herself back to her feet, leaning forward to press a kiss to your lips. You can nigh taste yourself on her.
"Not bad for a stranger at a sketchy bar." You muse, picking her hat from the floor and situating it atop her auburn tufts of hair. She watches you, analyzing your every move.
"I'm not just a stranger." She reminds you as your eyes find hers, your hands coming to drape around her shoulders. "I'm a stranger who wrote a song about you."
"Mm," you hum, "so you're a stalkers stranger?"
"I prefer the term passionate." She says, shooting you a playful scowl.
You chuckle, "passionate for what? Stalking and preying on drunken women?"
"Pfft-" She scoffs. "You're not drunk."
For a moment, you consider agreeing with her. To save her the pain of realizing you hadn't been sober for this. But you know better than to lie to her. So, through lidded eyes ⎯ ones that should have been a rather telltale sign of your intoxication ⎯ you give her a look, not even needing to voice the truth aloud for her to understand.
"Well fuck." She groans, taking a step backward and causing your arms to fall to your sides.
Frankly, you'd expected her to be much more angered than that. Because you know you would be. After writing a song, chasing down, then tongue-fucking someone in the bathroom, the worst news to receive would be that they'd been wasted the entire time.
"I'm sorry," you're quick to apologize, for some reason feeling the need to earn her forgiveness.
"How're you planning to get home?" She asks.
"I hadn't thought about that." You admit.
"How about this," she suggests, "I give you a place to stay to apologize for fucking you while drunk and you let me take you to dinner tomorrow to apologize for not telling me beforehand. Deal?"
A smirk works its way to your mouth, "deal."
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⊹ ࣪ ˖𐙚 perm. taglist @luvsturniolo @kasqnxx @xlovla @ilovewomenfr @zzombiegirl @shawangel
⊹ ࣪ ˖𐙚 fic taglist @autisticintr0vert @bunchogravie @thefirstromantics @kissrotten @natgf123 @elliespinkyandringfingers @elyaaaaaaaa @love7poetry @alex-awesome-22 @soodle-noup @mellifluousgirll @thankynext
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leviafin · 3 months ago
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Exotrauma
Having exotrauma from a "cringe" or "silly" source sucks. It feels like you're taken infinitely less seriously than those who have trauma from grittier, adult-geared and/or "acceptable" sources. Which in and of itself just isolates you and makes it worse.
I'm not just a silly little thing from your silly little Roblox game that could never show signs of trauma because it's 'just a kids game'--and I'm not your blorbo either. It feels like there's 2 common options for how people treat fictionkind with exotrauma:
Oh my poor little scrunkly, my little cardboard box meow meow.... Going to hold you because I love babying you and treating you like you're not even a person because I see you only as my favourite character. (Mind you, this is distinctly SEPARATE from actual friendly support, you can tell the difference.)
You're not a fictional character, get over it lmao. Yeah I know you are them but like you didn't ACTUALLY live through that, stop claiming it, it's disrespectful. Why are you upset at my memes about your death lol. Get a life.
So like... Maybe fictionkind are people. Maybe I don't want to think about the worse parts of my source. Maybe I don't want my trauma shoved in my face as a little funny joke, even if the context is changed. Maybe, just maybe... Leave alterhumans with fictional sources alone. Even if their source is lighthearted, even if it's for kids, even if it's the most "cringe" media you can think of.
Sonic the Hedgehog might've seemed fine in-source but maybe he's fucked up from all that he's been through. That warrior cat alterhuman isn't just being edgy, maybe they're suffering from the memories of fighting to survive day in and day out. Bluey is allowed to be not okay, and their source shouldn't dictate their experiences. Do you ever think that some Pokemon or trainers don't have amazing, adventurous lives travelling around with their best friends? Mario might have nightmares and flashbacks from his source. Mickey Mouse is allowed to be hurt, and allowed to express that. That MLP alterhuman isn't always going to be just a happy colourful magic pony with no issues whatsoever.
We are PEOPLE, and our sources being "happy", "for kids", "light-hearted", "fun" or anything of the sort should NOT dictate how we are treated here, what our experiences are "allowed" to be, or how we are expected to act. Treat fictionkind--of all sorts--like PEOPLE.
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il-miele-che-scrive · 9 months ago
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the one where Y/n and Lando used to hookup and then fell out... or did they?
lowkey inspired by the interview where Oscar talks about spending time with his gf and Lando goes "awww" cus it got my brain making up scenarios
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yourusername Maybe I was too much but you could've been more and we both know it
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yourfriend1 Situationship survivor 💔
username1 Ah, she's posting half naked pics means they're done
yourfriend2 Girl I didn't cry that much over a 3 years long relationship
↳yourusername I'm not crying lmao
yourfriend2 We need to go on a girls trip
yourfriend1 I second this!!
username2 Lando's loss tbh
username3 Not Carlos nonchalantly in the likes 👀
↳username4 I can't believe he would take Lando's leftovers
username5 You two can chill, Y/n and Carlos have been friends, they're not gonna end it because of a failed situationship
username3 Exactly! Maybe they'll become something more...
username5 Carlos is Lando's best friend, he wouldn't do it to him
username3 I mean it's not like Y/n was his gf or anything, they were just hooking up
username5 Yeah maybe also say it was her fault she caught feelings after he did all the things mentioned on the 2nd pic
username6 How could he not wanna make it official with HER?
↳username4 He's rich and famous, he can have 10 girls like her if he wanted to
username7 It makes me feel better about being in a situationship myself knowing Y/n also went through it
↳yourusername Girl it's a sign to leave him, don't waste your time
username7 It's just for the plot 🤭
yourusername NOT worth it
username8 Stay strong, I promise it gets better and one day you'll find someone who'll truly care about you
↳yourusername Already did ❤️ @/yourfriend1 @/yourfriend2
username9 Well, I guess a relationship was a bit too much for little Lando Norris
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landonorris Catching little feelings, thought we had arrangements
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username1 HOW DARE HE????
↳username2 I guess men just have the audacity 🥲
yourfriend1 When you act like you're in a relationship with her so she thinks you wanna be in a relationship with her 🙄
↳username3 That's Y/n's best friend right there 😭
maxfewtrell Drunk Lando is the worst Lando I've ever had to deal with
↳landonorris we both know that's a lie cmon
angryginge13 I forgot how fun it is to go out with you
↳maxfewtrell I swear something got into him lately, like sure he always loved to party but have you seen how drunk he was?
angryginge13 tbh I barely remember that night lol
username4 AHA so Lando is also going through it
username5 as 👏 he 👏 should 👏
username6 What's wrong with men these days? All I see are situationships, fwbs, ons, what happened to feelings? What happened to love?
↳username7 I guess dating apps messed up our perception of relationships
username6 This is sad.
username8 Well, at least Y/n isn't out getting drunk
↳username9 We can't be sure, we know all she wants us to know, her life can be totally different than what she shows on social media
username10 They had arrangements as he said, it's her fault she fell in love
↳yourfriend1 Oh will you all just shut up?
username10 Someone's mad lol
username11 So many people idolizing Lando just because he can drive a fast car in circles but in reality he's just your average brit in his 20s with commitment issues
↳username12 He's still young, he doesn't have to get in a serious relationship if he doesn't want to
username11 But it was wrong of him to lead Y/n on
username12 Just as someone said already - not his fault that she caught feelings. These typa things aren't for everyone. Or maybe she was hoping he'll fall in love or something
username11 Yeah? How is it that men these days want the benefits of a relationship without the responsibilities?
username12 Did he force her into it? Nope. She could've said no it's not my thing bye. But she didn't. She stayed with him
username11 If you wanna have sex without commitment just pay for it, it's still a thing. You can't have stuff like this for free, at the cost of another person's feelings
A month later
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yourusername Kisses to my exes who don't give a shit about me
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yourfriend1 I'm glad you feel better now ❤️
↳yourusername I feel so much more alive now
username1 They all slaaaaay
yourfriend2 Remind me, why haven't we done this kinda trips before?
↳yourusername Cuz we're stupid 🫶
yourfriend1 We're not stupid, we're sillymates
yourusername Fuck soulmates when you can have sillymates
yourfriend2 Stupid choices were made tho
yourusername Neither of you stopped me lmao
carlossainz55 Wasn't it a little too cold to sit on the balcony like this?
↳yourusername The wine warmed us up!!
carlossainz55 Text me if you're ever curious about other ways to warm yourself up *this comment has been deleted*
carlossainz55 Good to know you're having fun!🍷
username3 Carlos, everyone saw that comment you deleted...
username2 Where's the person who said Carlos wouldn't do that to Lando? WHERE?!
username4 Y/n should post to the song enough for you, particularly this part "cause someday I'll be everything to somebody else"
↳username5 Ngl I feel like most Olivia's songs would fit her situation right now
maxfewtrell That looks familiar...
↳username5 Nah boy, get the hell out of this comment section
username6 Wait, let him speak, maybe he has new information
username7 I need to know what stupid choices is Y/n talking about and what Max means 😭
↳username8 They're feeding us breadcrumbs and they know what they're doing
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landonorris ice spice ❄
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charles_leclerc Ice ice baby 😂❄️
maxfewtrell The gossip pages gonna love this one
↳username1 So that's what Max meant when he said it looked familiar
username2 I'll wait for further explanation 😶
username3 I refuse to believe Y/n went through all the heartbreak just to hook up with him again in Finland
↳username4 Well, she liked this post so...
username3 She got the Stockholm syndrome or what? 😭
username5 At this point she deserves this
username6 @/yourusername I am very disappointed in your actions
↳username3 Bro casually tagging Y/n like she's gonna answer
↳username3 Btw it's not confirmed that they hooked up again
username7 Pls don't break her heart again
username8 I get a little heart attack every time Lando posts
username9 Guys it doesn't make sense, Y/n wouldn't go to Finland with Lando AND with her girls
↳username2 What if they went there separately and just happened to run into each other?
username9 Yeah, because there's no other places to go skiing. Someone had to arrange it or something, it cannot be a coincidence
username2 Look, the universe works in weird ways, do you know the invisible string theory?
username9 Oh no you're one of these people? 🤡
username2 All I'm saying is to me they seem like 'right people, wrong time' and maybe finally the timing is right for them
username7 No no no Y/n deserves way better, Lando is too toxic for her
username2 Do you know him? Maybe he was going thru something and it just wasn't the time for him to be in a relationship
username9 A delusional yapper is what you are
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yourusername Back home with a new passion
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yourfriend1 You gotta stop feeding me these 😭
↳yourusername What, you don't like them? 🥹
yourfriend1 I love them, that's the issue!!
username1 And Lando isn't with her
↳username2 Why would he be?
username1 I think everyone thought they're together again after Finland
username2 They were NEVER together
yourfriend2 Can you get your asses out of here?
landonorris Looks delicious (the food too)
↳username3 DON'T GIVE ME HOPE
username4 Don't worry, it's just an average text from a situationship you'd get after weeks of no contact
username5 Usually followed up by "you busy tonight?"
↳username6 Ariana what are you doing here
↳username7 Man saw that comment Carlos deleted and decided to gatekeep
username5 Bet that's not the only thing he did when he saw that
username7 wdym 😭
username5 There's no way they didn't fuck
↳username8 fr a way to mark his territory
↳yourfriend1 She said she blocked you after Finland
landonorris She didn't😁
yourfriend1 I'll make sure she does now
landonorris She won't😌
username7 We need to know what happened in Finland 😭
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username1 I wish he would share the secret
username2 Yeah, Oscar, don't be shy, share it with the class
username3 My bet is Y/n let Lando manipulate her again
↳username4 They're both adults like Y/n sweetie just say no it's that easy
username5 I'm gonna manifest Y/n and Lando announcing a relationship soon 🕯
username6 I mean have y'all seen Lando? I'm NOT surprised Y/n keeps coming back even if he's doing just the bare minimum
↳username7 He's average. The fact that he's famous and has money makes him more attractive
username6 Do you think he pays Y/n for... you know?
username7 🤷‍♀️
username8 Words cannot express how much this man gets on my nerves
↳username9 Same like man stop being blind and see that Y/n is gf material, not some hookup to be used and left
username10 I wish Oscar would've spoken😭
username11 Get your shit together Lando
↳username12 Well maybe Y/n doesn't mind
username11 It didn't seem like it
username12 People change 🤷‍♀️
username11 I wish Lando would've been the one to change 🙏
username13 Lando has NO RIGHT to speak on other people's relationships being a walking definition of commitment issues himself
↳username14 chill yo tits, I think he truly thought what Oscar said was cute
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yourusername We turned out to like each other way more than we originally planned
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yourfriend1 I'm tired of you both already
maxfewtrell It's gonna be one of those "they still together?" kinda relationships
↳yourusername We plan on being an insufferable pain in the ass together just for you 🫶
maxfewtrell I see Lando is already changing you for the worse
landonorris the process began way earlier
maxfewtrell But you didn't have the balls to commit
↳yourfriend2 She deserves so much better
yourfriend1 Yeah @/yourusername deserves so much better, I wish she would've read the comments
carlossainz55 Congrats, you finally tamed him👏
yourusername I hate you both ❤️
↳landonorris wow, I love supportive friends
yourfriend2 Who said we're your friends?
yourfriend1 We have to tolerate your ass but it doesn't mean we're suddenly friends
↳landonorris You've been waiting to see this happen
carlossainz55 Of course, I've been telling you to get a girlfriend for so long now
↳username1 ekhm...
↳username2 We will never forget
username3 HOW DOES IT FEEL TO LIVE MY DREAM?
username4 Miss girl needs to share her manifestation techniques with us
oscarpiastri Don't have to thank me
↳landonorris Yup, you did nothing
↳yourusername Thank you Oscahhh
username5 I MANIFESTED IT 🕯
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yourusername For our 6 months anniversary we forced our friends to go camping with us 🏕
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yourfriend1 It wasn't as bad as I thought
↳angryginge13 Worse?
yourfriend1 Oh definitely
landonorris I'm really surprised they got along
↳maxfewtrell What other choice we had?
↳yourfriend2 Anything for Y/n tbh
↳yourfriend1 Still doesn't mean we don't hate you
yourfriend2 Yeah, good friends will always say 'but she deserves better' (she really does)
maxfewtrell I didn't expect you to last that long
↳yourusername Excuse me? 🤨
maxfewtrell You know, it's Lando
yourusername I guess you're right lmao
landonorris Now what is that supposed to mean?
yourusername Nothing, don't be mad❤️
↳landonorris That's what she said
yourusername NO IT'S NOT WTF 😭
oscarpiastri What if I tag along the next time?
↳yourusername I'd be happy 🫶 if you bring Lily as well it would be perfect
username1 WAR IS OVER
username2 I love how winter break is always pure chaos and summer break is just fun and chill
danielricciardo When can I join you though?
↳landonorris I promise next time I visit you in Australia it'll be with Y/n
yourusername You didn't even ask me...
landonorris Well, do you wanna go?
yourusername DUH
↳username3 No cuz these pics have strong Danny Ricc energy, I'm surprised he wasn't there
username4 The friend groups were forced to unite, I'm afraid they're together for life (I'm manifesting🤞)
↳username5 I hope they are, I feel like Lando really matured with Y/n by his side
username4 He went from "I don't wanna mature, I'm happy where I am" to this 😭
username6 I wish all situationships would turn out like this
↳username7 World would be a better place
username8 Right people right time❤️
1K notes · View notes
3rachaslut · 3 months ago
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LEE KNOW X FEM READER
ENEMIES TO ???
cw: SMUT. MINORS DNI !!! hair pulling, marking, name calling (slut etc), dominant lee know kinda. that’s about it
a/n: this has been in my drafts for about 9 months and i’ve finally finished it lmao. it’s still kinda mid hehe
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“Pleaseee come tonight y/n, the boys haven’t seen you in ages and they really miss you!” Felix whines with an over exaggerated pout on his lips. He knew his doe eyes have such an affect on you and he used it to his advantage way too often, but they were NOT getting the better of you this time..
“Felix, I’ve already said.. NO! I would rather drag my bare pussy lips across burning hot concrete than spend 10 minutes in Lee Know’s presence.”
Felix looks absolutely repulsed at your statement, and you shoot him a sarcastic smile. “Are you satisfied with that answer?”
Felix shakes his head, still with a look of pure disgust on his face.
“Pleaseeee y/nnn? I’ll buy you that hoodie you really want?”
“Urgh fine, but I hope you know that I’m not even looking at him, let alone speaking to him!” you say, rolling your eyes and shuffling towards your room to get dressed.
“I hope you know how much I love you doing this?” You shout at felix as you leave the room.
“Love you too bestie.”
“Urgh.”
——
You and Felix arrive at the dorms with a bottle of gin in one hand and sleep over bag in the other.
“Y/N!” Hyunjin shouts at the sight of you, clearly already intoxicated. He practically jumps off the sofa and makes his way to you, making grabby hands and you couldn’t help but smile fondly.
“Hi Hyunjinnie!” You hugged him tightly and over his shoulder you saw Lee know looking your way. You had tried your hardest to avoid Lee Know for the longest time, so seeing him look at you had you feeling sick. You quickly close your eyes again and lean further into the hug, smiling fondly into Hyunjin’s shoulder, trying to ignore the burn on your skin from the feeling of his eyes on you.
“It’s been tooooo long” Hyunjin sings down your ear, swaying you both side to side and you almost lose your balance.
“I knowwwww” You sang back. Even though you were 100% sober and he certainly wasn’t, his energy had always been contagious. He pulls away from the embrace and grabs your hand, pulling you towards the living room.
“You want a drink y/n?” Felix calls from the kitchen.
“Yes please!” you shout back.
“I’ll help you Lix” Lee know says, lifting himself off the couch and into the kitchen. You make your way over to the sofa where the rest of the boys were, making yourself comfortable next to Han. The familiar scent of his cologne making you feel more at ease. You and Han had been friends for quite a few years. You both met through Felix, who’d you’d been friends with since primary school and you’d been inseparable ever since.
“So… on a scale from one to 10, how awkward are you feeling being within a 5 mile radius of Mr Lee Know, your arch nemesis?” Han jokes, miming a mic in your direction and you stare at him deadpan, narrowing your eyes and he lets out a slight chuckle at your wordless reply.
“Here.” You and Han look up to see Lee Know holding a drink in his hand, offering it in your direction. His face shows no sign of emotion and you were trying to work out why.
“What have you done to it?” You bark, eyes narrowing as you scan his face for any cracks in his stand-offish demeanour but again, nothing.
“I haven’t done anything to it.” He leans in closer to you, your faces now at the same height. “Do you want it or not?” He asked, raising his eyebrows in a daring manner. You snatch the drink from his hand and he makes himself comfortable next to you, your knees barely touching. He was clearly challenging you. Prick. You shoot a panicked glance at Han who only makes things worse by holding in a laugh at your discomfort and you audibly sigh. You didn’t want to make a scene and sit elsewhere but you also didn’t want to have to sit next to HIM.
“Correction, 5 millimetre radius” Han whispers, snickering under his breath.
“You’re dead to me” you reply in a hushed voice.
“Okayyyy everyoneee” Changbin practically shouted. “Sit in a circle. We are playing truth or dareeee!”
“No! No!” Chan interrupts, shaking his head. “Do you not remember how it ended last time?”
“Yeah, well, there’s no fire pit this time CHAN!” Jeongin bites back at his comment, clearly eager to play and Chans eyes widen at the loss of honourifics.
“Okay, oldest goes first. Channie hyung, truth or dare?” Hyunjin says, raising his eyebrows.
“Nope, I’m not playing. I’m not encouraging this type of behaviour, not after last time. It’s only going to end in tears again. Literally” Chan refuses, grabbing his drink and taking a swig.
“Urgh fine… Leeee Knowww” Han pipes up. “Truth or dare?”
“Dare”.
Han looks at you with a mischievous look on his face and oh god, you knew where this is going. You widen your eyes and furiously shake your head but he turns back to look at Lee Know with a smirk on his face. “I dare you… to make out with y/n”.
The room fell silent. So silent you could cut the tension in the air with a knife. You all sit in uncomfortable silent for a few moments until you can’t take it anymore.
“I’m getting another drink” you stutter as you haul yourself up off the floor and into the kitchen.
“Are you fucking stupid?!” you faintly hear Seungmin whisper to Han as you walk towards the kitchen. As you pour yourself another drink, you can’t stop replaying Han’s dare. You shake your head, trying to rid the words from your mind. Suddenly you hear footsteps approaching.
“You don’t want a kiss then?” You hear from behind you and you drop your head in annoyance. You turn round to see a smirking Lee Know and you scowl in displeasure at his presence.
“Why can’t you just leave me alone?!” you raise your voice slightly but not loud enough to bring attention from the others.
“Because I like annoying you. Plus.. you’re so sexy when you’re mad” Lee Know commented, stepping closer to you and looking you up and down, chuckling.
“Shut up” you roll your eyes, attempting to sound threatening, but sounding like a nervous child instead. Your face burns in embarrassment and shyness at Lee Knows comment.
“Why do you even hate me anyway?”
closer
“Because you’re a dickhead who is so stuck up his own ass that you’re a burden to be around. You try and manipulate everyone around you so you get your own way.”
closer
“You might think you can control the boys Lee Know but you can’t control me.” At this point, Lee Know was only inches away from you and you felt your heartbeat getting faster and faster as the gap between you both grew closer. His arms find your waist and your breathing hitches in your throat. Every fibre of your being is screaming at you to tell him to get off you. But… you didn’t want him to. Why?
“No?” He tilts his head as his eyes boar into you. “I think you’d be quite an easy girl to control y/n” He smirks and your eyes widen at his suggestive comment, your cheeks burning crimson. Suddenly, you feel a hand run up your back and a harsh tug on your hair causes your head to jolt upwards. You let out an involuntary moan and Lee Know leans in so close to you, you can feel his breath on your neck that sends shivers up your spine.
“See… Easy” He chuckles down your ear.
“Fuck you” you spit out, although you couldn’t quite hide the slight moan that came from your throat. Every part of your being wanted to push him off, rush over to Han and slap him as hard as humanly possible. But at the same time, you couldn’t deny how badly you wanted him. Why though? Why all of a sudden did you want him so bad?
“I still haven’t done my dare yet doll..” You hear him tease and your brain is screaming at you that you hate him! You despise him with every cell of your being! but…
“Please..” You speak without thinking and your breath gets caught in your throat at the realisation of what you had just said.
“Please what doll?” he whispers into your ear and your head was spinning. You whine in response, too confused about the situation to form a coherent sentence. What was happening to you? You absolutely weren’t sure and you were convinced you were dreaming.
“Just..” You mewl. Even you didn’t know what you were begging for but your mind was long gone, revelling in the feeling of your hair firm in his hand. “Please”.
You hear Lee Know chuckle above you and soon enough he is leaning into you, pressing wet kisses all up your neck, quickly finding your sweet spot. You were a whimpering mess and Lee Know was clearly proud of the state he’d put you in, watching your eyes begin to roll back in your head. He makes his way from your neck up along your jaw, releasing the grip on your hair and instead hooking his finger under the shoulder strap of your dress.
“What’s happening?” you say, not necessarily directing the question at Lee Know, rather just speaking out loud. “You hate me?”. You utter as your eyebrows furrow and a slight frown becomes apparent on your face.
“I really don’t y/n…” Lee Know replied, sincerity coating his words. “And I don’t think you hate me anywhere near as much as you let on”
It’s funny because you thought you did. You thought he was the bane of your existence, a thorn in your side, a self obsessed prick. But right now, you realise.. maybe it was just a facade. If you were being honest with yourself, you had forgotten why you ‘despised’ him in the first place.
“Kiss me?” you blurt out, surprising yourself with your confident tone. You see a smile creep over Lee Know’s face and he presses a long, gentle but firm kiss onto your lips. He goes to pull away but you deepen the kiss, grabbing hold of the back of his neck with one hand and pulling him closer with your other.
Lee Knows hands began to roam your waist and back, his hands never settling, as if he wanted to feel all of you all at once. You moan at his touch and he takes that as a sign to reach under your dress to gently grope your ass.
“Want you..” you say breathlessly. “Now..”
Lee Know steps back to look at you, your face flushed and desperate eyes roaming his beautiful features. He breathes a sigh of relief, as if he’s been waiting for those words to leave your mouth for a long time.
“Say it again doll” He speaks softly but sensually, as if asking for official confirmation.
“I want you Lee Know..ple-“ before you even get to finish your sentence, you’re being dragged out of the kitchen and into one of the bedrooms in the dorm.
He quickly threw you onto the bed in a second and Lee Know swiftly makes his way over the top of your figure.
“God, the things I’ve been wanting to do to you” He says as he looks you up and down, taking in all of you. “Wanted to ruin you for so long.” He emphasises his statement by forcefully yanking up your dress, your lace panties now on full display. You throw your head back in anticipation of what’s to come. “Look at me doll”. Lee Know orders and you instantly obey, your eyes full of desperation.
“Please touch me, please” You beg and you didn’t have to ask him twice. Instantly, his fingers begin to trace the shapes of your legs, starting from your calf and then up towards your knee. You let out a sigh of relief at the minimal sensation but soon, his lips began softly kissing the bend underneath your knee and you nearly melt into the bed below you. He trailed kisses upwards onto your thigh as you let out breathless moans. You hear him snigger at your reaction and with that, he begins to suck a red mark onto your leg. You wince at the sudden pain but couldn’t deny the shockwaves it sent straight to your clit.
“Lee Know..” You gasp out as you throw your head back into the pillows. You hear him hum in approval at your response and his thumb finds your clit, rubbing gentle circles over your sensitive bud. You couldn’t stop the string of moans flooding out your mouth from finally receiving some form of attention on your desperate pussy.
“That feel good baby girl?” Lee Know chuckles, already knowing the answer.
“Yes! M- more.. please. Want more” You beg between shaky breaths.
“Such a greedy girl” he says, as he makes his way up to your level, your faces now inches apart. He lifts two fingers, looking down at you with lust filled eyes.
“Suck” He orders and you comply, sucking his fingers enthusiastically, moaning at his dominant tone. “Good girl.” He says. He let his fingers linger in your mouth for a moment, taking in the beautiful sight underneath him. Soon, he begins trailing his fingers down and across your clit towards your entrance. He pushes them into you slowly and you instantly let out a loud moan at the intrusion.
“So fucking wet already. Dirty girl”. He smirks.
You rock you hips up and down in an attempt to push Lee Knows fingers deeper inside of you. He curls his fingers, rubbing against your sweet spot and you feel euphoric, arching your back and whining desperately. You wanted him, you needed him.
“God y/n, you drive me fucking crazy” He says, impatiently unzipping his trousers and freeing himself of the confines of his jeans and boxers. You look down to ogle him, practically drooling upon seeing his now, very hard cock. For a moment, you wondered if it would even fit inside you.
“Are you sure you wanna do this y/n?” Lee Know asks warily.
“Yes! Please fuck me oh my god I need you.” You knew how desperate you sounded but you didn’t care, all you cared about right now was Lee Know fucking you so rough you saw stars. He visibly relaxed again and smiled at your enthusiastic consent.
“God, such an impatient slut” He scoffs and begins rubbing the tip of his cock up and down your entrance. You push your hips down in desperation and he thrusts into you harshly, bottoming out straight away inside you and be lets out a long drawn out “Fuckkkk”.
Your eyes roll back into your head and you reciprocate his moans with your own. Once he’s given you time to adjust, he begins to build up speed, your body jolting upwards with each harsh thrust into you.
“Oh FUCK!” You shout out, forgetting you had company just a few rooms away. You’re scrunching your eyes closed and gasping every time his dick hits your sweet spot, coupled with pleas that never stop leaving your mouth. Lee Know leans down to cup your cheek with his hand and kisses you so deeply you thought you were ascending into heaven. You both moan into the kiss and you couldn’t ignore the feeling of how amazing this felt. Lee Know grunts out, his fingertips trailing from your cheek down your neck and towards your tits. He teasingly twists them and you whine in response and shiver as goosebumps form all over your body. He lifts himself upright to take in your entire figure, adoration filling his eyes. “You’re so fucking beautiful y/n, I cant get enough of you.” He grunts as he thrusts into you harder and rougher, his pace soon beginning to falter as his orgasm drew closer, as did yours. His fingers return to your clit, rubbing circles there and whines were flooding out of your mouth.
“‘M- close Lee Know ah!” Your body begins to jolt and you feel yourself right on the edge of your climax.
“Cum with me baby, please- fuck-” Lee Know barely had time to finish his sentence before he was filling your pussy with his seed, grunting animalistic moans that pushed you over the edge. Your eyes roll back at the feeling of ecstasy and Lee Know takes in the image of you in your euphoric state, stunned by how breathtaking you looked.
He lay on top of you as you both caught your breath and he kisses your forehead, brushing the stray strands of hair out of your face.
“Guys are you in here? Channie hyung is abou- OH MY GOD” Han nearly screams as Lee Know jumps off of you, attempting to wrap the duvet around both of your naked forms. You never actually saw Hans face, assuming he bolted out the room at the unexpected scene in front of him. Both you and Lee Know couldn’t hold back your laughter and you hear him mumble from outside the door “Um.. just.. text me what pizza you both want..”
-
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dear-ao3 · 3 months ago
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hey wait im also new to f1 but i saw the other ask and i was curious abt what you meant when you said no one will ever do it like nico rosberg?? also retiring after your first championship win is insane lmao what a power move
nico rosberg is just. he’s insane. he’s cunty. he’s wonderful. he possesses sass and audacity unlike any other. we unfortunately do not have time to get into his whole story (my lunch break is only so long) but here’s some highlights:
-technically he’s a nepo baby. his dad, keke rosberg, won the world championship in 1982 and they remain one of the Few father son duos to both win a world championship (don’t ask me who the others are idk but i know they exist)
-he and lewis hamilton met when they were kids in the late 90s sometime and were gokarting teammates at some point in i think the early 2000s? (not fact checking i don’t have the time rn) and they were Besties. they’ve talked about this before, mostly in older interviews, but the gist is that both of them were outcasts from the other karting kid in opposite ways (nico was the son of a champion and rich and lewis was from nothing and pretty much the only poc most of the time) and that drew them together and they were Menaces according to legend. everything was a competition and they trashed hotel rooms and ate pizza and ice cream and kellogg frosties and went to greece and dreamed of being in f1 together
-nico signed with williams in 2006. his teammate was mark webber. and nico had long flowing blonde hair (this is important). he crashed at one race and mark webber said “britney’s in the wall” cementing the nickname britney, like britney spears. jenson button (another driver) said later on that they called nico britney because he was “very pretty” (do with that what you will)
-he was just. insane. cunty. constantly looked like a european bond villain. wore god awful shoes. whole bit. once he stayed in his car when it got craned off the track cause he didn’t want his hair to get wet. which is insane cause he’s wearing a helmet it would have gotten equally as not wet had he gotten out.
-anyway, lewis made it to f1 in 2007 and they had their first podium together i think that year (?) and it’s cute and fun and oh boy you’re not ready for what these two have coming
-lewis won the championship in 2008 (but he almost won in 2007, his rookie year) at mclaren.
-nico went to mercedes when they recentered the grid in 2010. his teammate was michael schumacher, who was fresh out of retirement. (yes the michael schumacher, 7x world champion). michael fucked with nico endlessly according to legend, including making him piss in a bucket pre race because he would hog the bathroom until the last possible second. nico still out preformed him most of the time, and the car was mid as hell.
-michael retired part 2 at the end of 2012. and who replaced him but lewis hamilton
-so the two of them were teammates again. the cards were absolute Stacked against them. because yes they were besties yes they’d known eachother forever but the first person you’re judged against is your teammate. and you’re trying to beat your teammate. and lewis already had a championship. nico wanted a championship.
-2013 was relatively chill. the car was kinda mid. they did well but not fantastic and did some fuck ass pr (highly reccomend looking those videos up)
-2014 they had a car that could win. and they started fighting eachother for wins. they played all kinds of mind games against eachother and withheld stats and nico ran illegal engine modes (supposedly) and lewis said they were no longer friends after nico supposedly wrecked his monaco qualifying one year but they claimed they still supported eachother and were friends off track. lewis won in 2014 and in 2015. but nico was right behind him and he wanted to win a championship, he didn’t want to be a number 2 driver
-so in 2016 nico did some insane shit. he stopped sleeping with his wife so that he could get better sleep or something, he did weird things to cut weight, he basically did everything and then some to win. and then he did. he won the championship and then at the prize giving ceremony announced he was retiring. he didn’t tell lewis this.
more after i get off work :)
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stuckinapril · 10 months ago
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what red flags should i look for in a man?
I actually feel like I’m a good person to ask this question, not bc I’ve had a long healthy relationship or anything, but bc I’ve humored walking red flags way more than I should’ve lmao. Btw this list doesn’t go for just men. It can apply to man, woman, just any human being across the board. Ok so:
When someone tells you they’re not ready for a relationship, BELIEVE THEM. Idc what the reason is. Idc if it’s bc they aren’t that into you or if they have shit going on. They just told u straight up. Appreciate that and just leave. Please. For me.
Piggybacking off that point—listen to people when they tell you who they are in general!!! This was a major 2023 lesson for me. People self-report all the time, whether it be friends or romantic interests. Most people are legitimately incapable of hiding who they really are. Pay attention. Do not ignore the signs, however small. I could’ve saved myself so much trouble if I didn’t just pretend Not to See.
Not consoling you when you need it because “they’re not good with emotions.” This is just an excuse for being lazy. They just don’t wanna put the work into being there for you properly—especially if you’ve already gone through the trouble of communicating this to them.
People who talk the talk but don’t walk the walk. Actions over words. Actions over words always.
Fuck overextended talking stages. If you wanna know more about me, let’s plan something in person. Otherwise you run the risk of getting attached to someone who’s possibly nothing like how they actually are in front of you.
If you’re having to “communicate” extensively with a person like a month in, as in there are lots of miscommunications and misunderstandings and things you don’t like about them or they don’t like about you, I’d probably just drop it. I learned this the hard way last year after burning through a lot of friendships where I found that we didn’t know each other that long at all, but there was already a plethora of problems to work through. This can apply to relationships just as well. If you’re asking a person to change this early in, or they’re asking you to change this early in, it’s probably just not a match.
Mostly talking about themselves. Not asking you anything about yourself in return. Ew.
It takes months to actually know a person’s true nature. That’s typically around the time people start showing their true colors. Ik a lot of people choose to commit like a month in, so just take that as u will.
Fucking competing with you. People who’re incapable of just being happy for other people without inserting themselves into it are insufferable. Immediate next.
This isn’t conscious behavior, and all of us are guilty of it, but people have an innate habit of taking advantage of your fantasies. If they know you’re desperate for their attention, they’ll get lazy (even if they don’t realize it). If they know they’re the object of your desire, they will leverage that to get your benefits without putting in the work. This is like playing cards and immediately showing someone your hand. Do not do that. This isn’t “playing hard to get”—it’s just guarding yourself until you’re sure you can trust the other person.
Not always the case, but a lot of times the way someone’s last relationship ended is pretty telling for how yours will go. ESPECIALLY if they’re not at all remorseful about how the last one went down, lol. You’re not the exception.
People are busy and taking a while to respond is O.K., but if it’s a continuous pattern of them taking forever to reply, it’s probably just a matter of priorities (and you’re not theirs). Sorry.
Pls take the ego out of the talking stage and recognize that love bombing is not flattering. I’ve reprogrammed my brain to where any time someone is doing way too much like three seconds in, I get the ick. I’ve legit dropped guys over this. It’s such a red flag to me. They either don’t have a life, or just are a natural love bomber (who will overwhelm you w compliments and attention only to fizzle out just as quickly), or they know exactly what they’re doing and they’re playing to your ego. Whichever it is, ick. Big ick.
The way they talk about other people is a major tell. This goes for friends and romantic interests. I think a bit of gossip will always be unavoidable, but if someone is liberally trash-talking other people—ESPECIALLY EX-FRIENDS OR EX-PARTNERS—you could literally be next. Anyone who thrives off badmouthing other people / hating on others / just generally not giving others grace doesn’t have exceptions. You’re their focus for now. It could just as easily be you tomorrow.
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