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russellsppttemplates · 2 months

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Never letting you go (Max Verstappen)

There was nothing stopping you and Max now

Note: english is not my first language. This is the first Max big piece to sort of introduce their arc, let me know what you think! ✨️

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: mentions Jos forbidding Max and reader of dating, curse words

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog

"What do you mean you're going to the Grand Prix?", you quirked your brow as your friend Cara sipped her coffee, "I thought you said you'd never be caught dead one of those", you chuckled.

"Matthew's company got a bunch of passes because they got a deal with one of the sponsors - I think? - I don't know much about it, all I know is that he brought three home because he thought you'd like to join us", she offered.

You never hid how much you enjoyed watching Formula One, even if watching it, especially in the last couple of years, often brought emotionally heavy memories back.

"That's nice, count me in! What type of passes are they?", you questioned, taking a bite from the cake on your plate.

"I don't know, he was talking all about them and I must admit I zoned out", she admitted, "but he said they were really good! He was very surprised at what the passes had, but his boss is very cheap so I don't know how great they actually are considering the possible comparison", she smiled as you nodded, "count me in, though. It's been a while since I stepped foot on one of them", you recalled.

The last race you attended was when Max was in Formula Three still. The paddock was so big and crowded with so many people, you doubted you'd bump into him. It wouldn't do you any good, would it?

"How did you get hospitality passes?", you gasped as Matthew handed you the lanyard, "they've invested a lot of money so I guess the sponsors didn't mind loosening the belt", he shrugged, putting his own around his neck after scanning it.

"Thank you for this, by the way", you flashed him a smile, "no worries, Y/N, the only way I could convince her to come was if you joined us, and I don't mind actually spending the weekend with someone who also knows a little about the sport", he chuckled as Cara laced her arms with her fiancé, "I'm glad he has you to talk to as well, there's only so much feigned interest I can muster up", she rolled her eyes.

Scuderia Alpha Tauri had been Toro Rosso, but despite the name change, as soon as you walked in, some faces were still familiar from the pictures you got sent from Max on gia first season with them.

"Why did you get interested in Formula One anyway?", Matthew asked you while you sipped on a latte, "I always loved the idea of the cars going very very fast, and then when I actually had the knowledge to understand how they worked, they really intrigued me", you offered, "I also had a friend who was very into it, so he also escalated my interest in it".

"He didn't pull you enough to work on motor sport though?", Matt wondered.

"I didn't enjoy the competitiveness of all of it", you admitted, "it's very strict, and if you want to be successful, it takes the good things away - your family, your friends", you opened your heart to him, thankfully noticing it and sorting the heartfelt confession seemingly about a job, "they travel a lot and they're really competitive that is, I'd never be able to do that for a job", you smiled, hoping you saved yourself from further questions.

"That's why you did mechanical engineering, then?", he asked, "for the most part, yes", you replied, "Oh, they're starting free practice", you smiled, looking over to the track from the balcony seats.

Sophie walked into the RedBull hospitality, looking for her family. Because it was Monaco, they felt safe enough to bring the Lio and Luka to the paddock, knowing they would be close to home in case things didn't go well as planned.

"Grandma!", the oldest boy called her from his spot on his father's lap, his brother sleeping on his mother's chest.

"Hey, my dears", she greeted, "You won't believe who I found on my way here", Sophie began, "I'm surprised Max didn't tell me he invited Y/N. It's a shame she isn't here with us, though", she commented.

The first indicator of surprise should be the way the blond woman looked at her mother, "what do you mean Y/N is here?", she whisper-yelled.

"I just saw her in the Alpha Tauri hospitality, I was walking with Helmut and he was headed there, that's when I noticed her. Max didn't tell you?", she quirked an eyebrow just as her son sat down next to them.

"What didn't I tell who?", Max spoke, setting his plate of food down on the table.

"Why didn't you tell us you invited Y/N for this weekend?", Victoria was the first to scold him, hitting his arm in a sisterly manner, "and in Alpha Tauri of all places? I'm sure they would've bent the rules a little and give you a pass so she could be a RedBull guest!".

Max thought he heard incorrectly. Y/N, his Y/N was in the paddock, in the sister team of the one he now drove for.

"I, I didn't offer her anything", Max said, his brother in-law looking at him weirdly as well, "I don't know how or why she is here, but I had nothing to do with it. We haven't spoken in a while", he mumbled. A while, three years, same thing, he supposes.

"Well, I just saw her. You should go say hi, I'm sure she would love to but she can't exactly find you where she is, it has to be the other way around", Sophie offered.

"What makes you believe she would?", Max questioned, both himself and his mother and sister.

"Because the way you never forgot her, she never forgot you", Victoria sterned, "don't you think she deserves your attention? She was in it for the long run, Max, and maybe she has moved on, maybe even has someone", the thought alone made Max loose his cool, "but she was your friend, the person you trusted most in the world and you let her slip".

"Don't sugar coat it, please", Max sarcastically replied.

"It's true, Max, and you know it", Sophie said, sensing her son didn't want to talk about the topic, but not allowing him to leave the table without a piece of her mind as well.

Max needed to put on his suit again, ready for qualifying, walking along the corridor until he found his door.

"Hey, before you go", Victoria called her brother as he was about to go into his driver's room, "Lio is really fussy, so we're just going back to your place, I'm sorry", she said.

"It's fine, whatever you feel the most comfortable with", he said, waving at his nephews and brother in-law.

"We will be supporting you from home, then", she said, kissing his cheek, "And Max? I know you're not used to it, but follow your heart", she smiled.

"Can I do that now?", he softly bit back, smiling and blushing at his words.

"What's stopping you?", Victoria said as she walked back to her family.

"Who is that?", Jos asked as Max asked him if he could invite you over for dinner before the season began.

The conversations with Toro Rosso were getting serious and the opportunity for a seat in Formula One was right there, up for him to grab if he worked enough.

"She's my friend, you know Y/N", Max tried to reason with his father.

"For this to work, Max, I think you need to distance yourself from home", Jos advised, ignoring his mention of you and carrying on with his lecture, "I'm talking no parties, no trips to come and see friends and family - I really think those are just getting in the way between you and the career you deserve".

The statement was clear, and Max knew better than to question it.

"I've spoken to your mother - she wasn't the biggest fan -, but you really need to focus on this", Jos reiterated, "no friends, much less girlfriends", he chuckled.

The dinner ended up being just Jos, Max and Victoria, the thought of having you there quickly erased in his head.

When Max met up with you before he left for the season, he was antsy. Just a week before, you had stolen innocent kisses from eachother's lips and revelled in the feeling of being in eachother's embrace without a care in the world. And it felt good, so good, like the piece that was missing in Max's life finally completed the puzzle.

"Hey", you greeted, kissing the corner of his lips and allowing him to pull you down to sit on the sofa.

"I spoke to my dad, I'm leaving in a few days", Max said, "there's some testing they want me to do still", he mumbled, lacing your fingers in his.

"And where do we end up?", you asked the million euro question. Truthfully, you entertained the thought. Even though being away from Max for most of the year would be a challenge, the love you felt for him was too big, too great for you to forgo that challenge. You were his and he would be yours.

"It's not going to work, Y/N. I need to focus on racing", he stated blankly despite how much it hurt him to utter those words out to you as the conversation with his father resonated with him.

"Max your focus is getting a Formula One seat", his father sterned, "do you know how hard it is? How much effort and work you have to put in? There can't be any distractions!"

"But Y/N isn't a distraction!", Max reasoned. If anything, you were the one keeping him humble and with both feet on the ground at all times. You cared for him, not because of his racing, who he was or who he could become, but because you loved eachother.

You'd never do anything to ruin his career, Max thought as he worked up the courage to tell you all of it. He couldn't get distracted, not now. He couldn't afford making mistakes because he had a girlfriend back at home waiting on him.

Your understanding, however, wasn't aligned with his expectations. He hoped you'd fight, at least, but you swalled your tears and nodded, "okay, Max. I hope you get your seat, you deserve it so much, I know it will happen".

Max put in on pole, leaving you to smile and snap a picture of the moment, wondering if you'd have the courage to send it to him.

"So, does this mean it's over?", Cara asked, "Because I could do with going home, actually", she nudged.

"Let's go, then!", you smiled, putting your phone in your bag and looking for the way out, ending up following the other guests into the paddock.

"Y/N, dear!", you heard someone call your name, and on cue, you looked for the voice despite the fact that it wad unlikely someone recognised you there.

Sophie didn't age, you thought, as you looked at the source of the voice that called you.

"I'm not going to hold you up, guys, you can go!", you smiled, waving at Matthew and Cara once you assured them you would be fine.

"I'm sorry, Sophie - they're my friends, and he was the one who got the passes from his office", you apologised for leaving her to wait a little for you.

"It's alright, dear. It's been so long since I've seen you", she nudged, "I'm sure Max would love to see you, too!", she jumped straight in.

"Would he, though?", you squinted your eyes.

"He would, Y/N", Sophie said earnestly, "I saw you this morning - at Alpha Tauri -, and he knows you're here", she smiled, "I'm assuming you're watching the race, too. Pay him a visit, okay?", she rubbed your shoulder and left a kiss on your cheek, "He's also my ride home, so I need to go look for him! Bye, Y/N!".

Race day meant rush everywhere, so you got to the paddock just in time before everyone rushed inside, finding the perfect spot to watch the race.

"I need to take this call, one second", you said to Cara, recognising Max's contact on your phone.

"Y/N, hi! I didn't think you'd pick up actually", you could hear the nervousness on his voice, "thanks for the picture, by the way, it was very... nice".

"It's no problem really, I thought it would be a good memory to keep", you smiled, "are you ready for the race? Or do you want me to give you a pep talk?", you chuckled. Back in the day, whenever he didn't feel too confident about a race, you had the power to help him out his head in the right place and bring his winning mentality to light.

"I'm fine, actually", he smiled, "I- I was wondering if you'd like to meet up later", he gulped, "I'd like to talk to you, but it's difficult until the race finishes, and then debriefs and media and all that".

"Sure, text me when you're done then", you stated boldly, "have a good race Max, you know I'm supporting you".

"Even if you're with Alpha Tauri?", he joked.

"I never stopped supporting you, it's not going to be a guest pass that's going to change it", you said as he bid you goodbye, ending the call and finding your friends.

When Max won, you clapped unashamedly as everyone else seemed to join you in your excitement, and after the race celebrations were done with, you waited patiently for the text to get to your phone.

"So you're staying back?", Cara asked, "I am, I'm meeting a friend", you explained. At her curious stare, you furthered, "do you remember the guy I told you about when you tried to set up that double date?", she nodded, "yes, the guy you were friends with, and when you both wanted to take a step forward, he had this big shot as his dream career and his father wouldn't allow him to date anyone", she said as she realized, "my goodness, he's here? Y/N, go for it!", she encouraged, "I know you still have feelings for him, who knows? Maybe this is your chance to reconnect", she rubbed your shoulder.

After you bid goodbye to Cara and Matthew, a text go through to your phone.

From: Max

Mum is waiting for you at the door :)

Approaching the hospitality, you quickly spotted Sophie, "c'mon in, dear! Max wanted me to get you myself, he was afraid no one would ler you in", she chuckled, guiding you through until you were in their dining area.

"Y/N!", Max beamed, setting down the crayons he was drawing with at the table with Luka and walking up to you.

"Hey everyone!", you waved at Victoria, putting a pin the two little boys' curious stares as they looked at you so you could hug Max.

"Congratulations, Max, I knew you could do it", you whispered into his skin, his arms hugging you so tightly against him.

"Thank you, Y/N", he spoke, "I missed you so much, I missed this so much", he squeezed you one more time before allowing you to greet the rest of his family.

"This is Tom, and that's Lio and Luka", Victoria said after she hugged you tighlty, "say hi, guys!", she encouraged as the two little copies of Max waved back at you.

"We're going to head home, it was great seeing you, Y/N!", Sophie announced, "I'm sure we'll see eachother a lot more from now on", Victoria complimented, helping her husband pack up the kids' belongings and toys so they could retire to Max's apartment.

"I was wondering if you wanted to have dinner sometime this week", he jumped straight forward, "I'm having dinner with the team today and then the rest of the grid want to go to the club, so I wouldn't be able to spend that much time with you, and I want to be able to just focus on you", he smiled.

"That's fine by me, I appreciate the thought", you smiled as he led you to one of the tables, asking one of the caffé staff for something to drink for the two of you.

“Listen, I think, I think we found each again for a reason", he began boldly, not sure if this was the way to go after not having spoken to you in a couple of years. Still, it wasn't a lie.

"Define found, considering we've been iving in the same city for nearly a year", you smiled, "although you don't spend much time here anyway, so I guess that's a nice enough excuse", you teased, your foot tapping his shin playfully under the table.

"So, Monaco, hm?", Max started, "I didn't expect you to live here out of all places", he nudged, wanting to know more about your move but afraid he was stepping in vulnerable territory.

"I did it because of my earnings for sure. I've got to save as much as I can on tax on the fortune I make as a female engineer", you sternly said as he looked the most surprised you'd ever seen him, "I'm joking - not all of us move to Monaco so our million euro salaries have better taxes", you teased.

"Why did you do it, then?", he asked, smiling at how familiar it all seemed. Just like old times, he thought.

"The company I work for was the one that needed the tax benefits", you clicked your tongue, "and they wanted people to move here. Only one of my colleagues moved here with her whole family, as they expected, so they ended up calling the ones that weren't attached to anything or anyone in particular, and I was one of them", you shrugged your shoulders, "I moved to a new country with a different language, the only people I knew were my work colleagues, so I had no one to complain about them to, but I make it work - at least I like to think I do", you smiled.

Not attached to anyone, he recalled, humming at your response, "it's not such a bad place to live, right? Granted I don't spend much time year, but still enough to appreciate it", Max spoke.

"How about you, Mr World Champion", you nudged, "how does it feel?".

"Obviously it's great, and everything that I worked for", he added, knowing the underlying topic in the conversation, "I get to drive fast cars and I travel the world, there's not much left for it to be the complete dream", he said, gingerly touching your fingers over the table and accepting your hold when you laced them together.

Conversation was flowing easily until one of the employees told Max that he would have to go and get ready for the dinner, meaning you would have to part ways.

"Does Tuesday work for you? I'm not sure how well I'll be tomorrow", he chuckled, "yes, that's fine by me, just text me the address and the time", you smiled, getting up and kissing his cheek, "have a good time, Max, but be careful with the alcohol, I'd hate to have to pick you up again", you reminded him of the time he got way too drunk and he insisted he would only go home if you came to pick him up.

Dinner was great and Max invited you back to his place, hoping you'd be able to talk properly about the elephant in the room in a more private and comfortable place.

"You're struggling there, aren't you? Even with your itty bitty small hands?", Max teased as your pinky just about stretched enough for you to not lose everything by dumping the contents of your bag on the sidewalk.

As you and Max left the restaurant, you fiddled with your wallet in your bag, hoping to keep the card the waiter gave you safe for the next time you wanted to visit the place.

"I do not have itty bitty small hands!", you argued, shaking your bag a little to make sure everything was safely in place.

"We need to have the same starting line - like", you rearranged them so your wrists would be touching. Still, it didn't make much of a difference on your end. It looked like it even highlighted a few more differences, "yours is much bigger, I give up", you giggled.

"See?", Max said as he held your hand out against his, "these are the size of fairy hands! Tinkerbell probably has bigger hands than yours!", he exclaimed as you noticed how much bigger his hand was compared to yours. His fingers were a little bit thicker than yours and his palm covered all of your hand almost completely.

Now or never, Max thought as he laced your fingers in his once you let your arms drop and rest by your side. His thumb rubbed your skin and warmed you up, "was this your plan all along?", you wondered, feeling the bravery around you two and choosing to act on it.

"Lacing my hand in yours or proving to you that my biggest mistake was letting you go all of those years ago?", Max stated as he looked deeply into your eyes.

"We should talk about this inside", you bit your lip, allowing him to guide you through the apartment complex he lived in.

His living room was decorated in classy tones, probably with the help of him mother and sister, as you sat down on the sofa and face eachother.

"I know I apologised at the time, but I'm still sorry, Y/N", Max said, "at the time it was the dream and I didn't have much room for my own decisions. Still, I should've fought", he concluded.

"You didn't blatantly acknowledge it and decided we couldn't be together, Max", you conforted despite the hurt you felt at the time, "it hurt, - like a bitch actually -, but not because you were following your dream. I never wanted to pull you back and get in the way of your achievements", you gulped, "but I would be lying if I said I wouldn't like to give this a go, to give us a chance", you smiled.

"I know I have crazy schedules - I am barely here during the season -, but you were always the one I thought about. When I first raced in F1, when I got my first podium, my first win, my bad races - I wanted you there", he admitted, blue eyes looking into yours, "I can't promise that it will be easy, but I'll never risk you or our relationship, that's non negotiable", he stated.

Moving closer to him, you cupped his cheek with your palm, the slight stubble tickling your skin, "I'm in, Max", you smiled, taking the plunge and kissing his mouth, lips moving in sync as his hands pulled you into his lap.

The blissful moment was interrupted by a meow, Jimmy and Sassy walking into the living room, "Oh, guys", Max held you close to him as the cats sniffled you, "this is Jimmy and Sassy, my cats, took then long enough to leave the guest bedroom", he smiled as you tried to pet them, "cute, they seem nice enough - for cats anyway".

#max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen fluff #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 fluff

706 notes · View notes

mellifera38 · 1 year

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Bruh. As much as we talk about how funny and wacko the early era of tumblr was with its mishapocalypses and so on and so forth, I like tumblr a LOT more now. Like, if you were ace, you did NOT wanna look in the asexuality tag back then like holy fuck. It was a hostile battleground in there every day. The idea of being "aphobic" was in and of itself a joke. It was a perfectly valid stance on here. People would straight up make fake ace blogs just to say super cringy shit so ppl could screenshot and use it for an example of our attitudes and behavior. It was so fucking exhausting to be on here sometimes. Every day I had to block blogs I had followed for ages and legitimately liked and I remember being so upset All The Time like bitch I'm just existing here what the fuck man. Eventually I just kinda backed my ass right back into the closet and blacklisted any and all ace content. Just said fuck it I can't look at this shit anymore I'm done i dont even care what I am.

I glanced in the ace tag today bc it's ace day and was so relieved. Like I know it probably hasn't been bad like it was for awhile now but I'm still just like always expecting the worst from the internet. I still subconsciously stay removed from my own identity most of the time and take pains not to bring it up unless I'm with my close friends, and even then not very often. I still cautiously hesitate to say I'm part of the queer community even tho most people it seems are on board with the A in LGBTQIA being for Aspec. It could just be that with the tiddy ban most of the remaining perpetrators left or something but either way I'm really glad this place has become legitimately ace-positive. I wouldn't have believed it possible back then there was SO much vitriol aimed at us. Even if this site is actually just an echo chamber of aces shouting positivity at each other today, I'll still enjoy it. They didn't really let us do that back then. They invaded every tag we tried to make for ourselves. So happy Ace Day. Don't forget to appreciate every positive post that shows up on your dash.

#asexuality #international asexuality day #ace day #saw it trending on twitter too but I'm not touching that with a ten foot pole

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cutielando · 3 months

Text

old money ~ george russell

instagram au

synopsis: Y/N and George are everyone's favorite couple, and everyone seems to think they just scream old-money romance

my masterlist

♡♡♡♡♡

liked by lilymhe, landonorris and 2,194,176 others

yourinsta i love life with you 🤍 tagged: georgerussell63

view all 483,957 comments

georgerussell63 i love you

yourinsta i love you more

landonorris why

yourinsta why not

landonorris we're sick of seeing your cute couple photos 😐

yourinsta not my fault

user1 they are so old-money coded i can't- 🥲🥲

user2 Y/N is the definition of perfect, George is so lucky

user3 they're so classy 😩😩

alex_albon looking good

georgerussell63 always mate

user4 will Y/N be at the next Grand Prix?

yourinsta i will ! 🥰

user3 MOTHER IN THE PADDOCK 😩😩

francisca.cgomes i can't wait to see you !!!! 🤍🤍

yourinsta me too!! ❤️

user4 the friendship we didn't know we needed

f1gossippofficial we love seeing you guys! liked by yourinsta

user5 her style is to die for

user4 for real, she is so classy and elegant all the time

user5 and she is so sweet too. i met her at a grand prix a while back and she was so happy just talking to me and stuff. even got george to sign my hat for me, she is so kind

user3 she sounds like such a nice person to be around

user6 would she accept friendship bracelets from us?

yourinsta i do !!! i have a collection at home, bring them to me and we can exchange them !! <3

user6 omg 😭😭😭😭 you just made my day

liked by yourinsta, lewishamilton and 3,913,756 others

georgerussell63 Back to work 💪🏻

view all 832,579 comments

yourinsta ooof, who's this handsome lad? 😩

yourinsta so proud of you

yourinsta i love you ❤️

georgerussell63 i love you too, baby 🤍

user1 not Y/N being just as unhinged as us in the comments

landonorris thank you for sparing us

yourinsta i will hit you 😐

georgerussell63 i'll do it for you, babe

landonorris please don't

oscarpiastri why is Lando so scared of you all of a sudden, George?

yourinsta it's me he should be scared of

oscarpiastri got it

georgerussell63 you heard her

user2 such a good weekend for George ❤️❤️

user3 Y/N was there to be his lucky charm, he did so good 🥹🥹

user4 i want what they have, i need to know what their love feels like🥹😩😩😩

alex_albon did Y/N take these photos?

georgerussell63 she did. why?

alex_albon i was just appreciating the first good photos of yours that i have seen

yourinsta don't be mean alex

user5 Y/N to the defense, we love to see it

landonorris surprised you didn't pose shirtless

georgerussell63 y/n wouldn't let me

yourinsta damn right, those abs are for my eyes only😠

landonorris i didn't need to know that

yourinsta why did you leave a comment then?

landonorris i don't even know anymore

user6 where can i buy myself a George?

yourinsta you'll find them for free in King's Lynn

user6 she responded, i'm gonna cry😭😭😭

liked by yourinsta, yourbff and 94,286 others

f1gossippofficial Fan favorite grid couple, George Russell and Y/N Y/L/N, looking as good as always during the afterparty of the Singapore Grand Prix. tagged: yourinsta and georgerussell63

view all 16,285 comments

user1 they are so old money, i swear😭😩

user2 Y/N is so stunning, George really hit the jackpot with her😩

yourbff gorgeous, my favorite old-money couple

yourinsta not you as well 🙄

user3 existing at the same time as them should be considered a blessing

user2 amen to that

user4 i wonder if the old-money aesthetic comes naturally or something

user5 probably, apparently Y/N actually comes from a very old-school rich family

user4 really? she's really down-to-earth and humble for someone who comes from a rich background

user5 she's always wanted to make a name for herself without using her family's money, apparently

user2 we love an independent queen

liked by yourbff, landonorris and 2,382,470 others

yourinsta little getaway with my love ❤️ tagged: georgerussell63

view all 938,172 comments

georgerussell63 spending time with you is my favorite thing to do🤍

yourinsta i love you🫶🏻

landonorris i thought you were going to stop this

yourinsta just get a life lando 🙄

georgerussell63 i agree with her, mate

francisca.cgomes you two are soooo cute !!!! ❤️❤️

yourinsta not cuter than you and pierre my love !!

georgerussell63 yes, we are. sorry pierregasly

pierregasly in your dreams, brit

user1 they are my roman empire

user2 WHY ARE THEY SO CUTE OMFG 😩😩😩

user3 why can't i have what they have😭😭

alex_albon you two look like you just stepped out of a novel or something

yourinsta thank you alex, that is very kind of you to say

georgerussell63 so we basically look like book characters?

alex_albon yes

yourinsta georgie, it's a good thing, don't worry

georgerussell63 ooh, got it

lilymhe alex won't do this with me :(

yourinsta UNACCEPTABLE !!!

alex_albon you haven't even mentioned anything???????

yourinsta you're supposed to read her mind, alex

alex_albon ...you are both killing me

liked by yourinsta, alex_albon and 3,284,927 others

georgerussell63 kind of seeing where the trend comes from tagged: yourinsta

view all 834,271 comments

yourinsta we're dominating pinterest right now

georgerussell63 as we should

yourinsta that's the attitude babe

alex_albon noooooo, now i can't make fun of you two with this anymore :(

georgerussell63 sucks to suck

alex_albon did y/n tell you to say that?

yourinsta no comment.

user1 they are finally embracing it

mercedesamgf1 we love you two ❤️

yourinsta we love you too, merc admin ❤️

georgerussell63 ❤️

user2 they get classier and classier every time they post ❤️❤️

user3 i want this

francisca.cgomes you two are goals ❤️

yourinsta i love you !! ❤️ liked by francisca.cgomes

yourinsta i love you, sweet boy

georgerussell63 i love you more, my sweet girl

user4 you guys are killing us

formula1wags she is the best wag on the grid, nobody can change my mind

user2 this

user3 facts

user1 she really is

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cheesus-doodles · 3 months

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How does Ran view Rindo’s best friend reader? And what’s his opinion on their relationship? I really like your work on Rindo and reader!

thank you for your kind words anon!

Masterlist | Rindo Tags

ㅤ‎

Ran thinks that the two of you together are adorable.

Yes sure, he knows damn well that both the both of them are delinquents who ruthlessly rule the back alleys of Roppongi with an iron fist, and that they are indeed supposed to be feared. But how was he supposed to think any other way when he sees Rindo with you?

Even though you clearly are the more easygoing and naive of your little pair with a tendency to go along with whatever it was that Rindo wanted, in Ran's eyes, its still his younger brother who comes off as the lost puppy trailing you looking for affection and attention, happy to let you lead him around by the nose. Yes, both of the Haitanis have both been in and out of juvie for various reasons, and Ran is perfectly aware of how Rindo is actually like during fights, having no qualm with breaking bones and putting faces through cement. Yet Ran still finds it hard to find any good reason to fear Rindo whenever you are arm-in-arm with him, chattering away with a complete lack of awareness to your surroundings. Ran, in fact, finds it rather amusing to occasionally poke his younger brother by linking arms with you just to get a reaction out of him and see him growl and threaten.

There was no way that Ran could possibly hate you, not with what you had done for Rindo. As the older of the two (not by much but still), Ran takes it upon himself to learn about and keep an eye out for Rindo, even if the younger Haitani dislikes his older brother's intrusions into his life.

And from what Ran can tell, Rindo has only changed for the better - as much as a delinquent can, at least. He knew that the day you picked Rindo over him was the day that something within Rindo had sparked (or snapped), and the younger Haitani had never let go of you since then, which you didn't seem to mind. Good thing either way, since with you came a sense of responsibility for Rindo that he never had, and Ran do so appreciate Rindo caring about something outside of picking fights for a change. Maybe you could get him to care about bills as well soon.

You did bring a breath of fresh air into both their lives, which the older of the brothers appreciates. With you came normal afternoons, calm evenings, and even peaceful nights; being a regular civilian with no ties to the gang life, you usually were the one to drag the two Haitani brothers around to your favourite cafes or the newest shops. Normal activities. Of course, the the only caveat to peace and normality being that you were within arm's length of Rindo, but that was easy enough to achieve.

‎

Ran does however wish from time to time that you were the slightest bit more self aware and less air-headed. The amount of stress you cause his younger brother on a day-to-day basis simply can't be healthy, but more importantly, it affects Ran as well. Don't get him wrong, this older delinquent was content to watch his younger brother run around like a headless chicken from time to time, but when it spills over into his life and causes Ran to lose his precious sleep is where he draws the line. Maybe with a few more brain cells, you would be able to learn which action would result in a explosive reaction from your best friend, but it has already been years and Ran isn't hopeful.

Rindo always anxiously checking in on you whenever he could as if you would vanish off the face of the earth the moment he wasn't looking (being lured into a van and kidnapped with candy was what Rindo swears would be enough to work on you, and Ran didn't doubt as much). And when he couldn't, Ran would have the chance to be amused by his younger brother compulsively opening and closing his phone every second just to make sure he wasn't missing any messages that you were sending him, before giving in after five minutes and simply calling you. This would quickly turn into a full blown cursing and swearing session when you fail to pick up within half a minute, followed by a panicked Rindo dropping everything to take off and hunt you down.

This usually happens during school time, when the younger of the Haitanis reluctantly let you attend class, only to storm your classroom later on, though meltdowns also tend to happen at night when you aren't sleeping over at their place. And the latter is when Ran gets awoken by all the scrambling, sometimes getting dragged up as well to look for you when Rindo happens to barge into your room on the rare occasion you wandered out for a midnight snack.

Despite Ran knowing that whatever Rindo has going on with you isn't quite normal, with Rindo being a tad too obsessed with knowing where you were and what you were doing at all times, the older delinquent doesn't care. As long as his younger brother was happy, Ran was content with playing along. And alas, until Ran can knock some common sense into that empty head of yours, he'll settle for tying you to a chair and hauling your ass back to Rindo.

Ah the woes of being an older brother.

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ddejavvu · 5 months

Text

Betrayal - Obi-Wan Kenobi x Reader

Summary: months into the war and it's not as exhilarating as you'd hoped - not for your battalion, anyway. when the air conditioning in your compound blows, an old friend brings his tech genius of a padawan to fix it for you. while anakin is working, you convince his master to spar for old times' sake, and simple adrenaline gives way to a landslide of long-buried feelings neither of you should have for each other.

Contents/Warnings: smut, minors dni, fem!reader, jedi!reader, reader is a general, sweat kink (? they are really sweaty and i talk about it a lot), oral (m+f receiving), semi-public sex (risk of being caught), sparring, lightsaber use, throatfucking, messy kisses, scratching/marking, lotsa spit, obligatory 'had you said the word' (sorry satine i had to steal his line)

WC: 16.9K / navigation / inbox

A/N: sorry this took me so long to finish! i didn't have time to write for like two months but it's done now and i hope you enjoy it <3 this is set a couple months/a year into the clone wars, but i have chosen to fuck with their ages a little bit. in this, anakin is like 12-14-ish, even though he was older in AOTC when the war began.

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

Neglecting the option of taking a padawan under your wing is what stuck you on this humid, blazing, hellish planet, and you almost regret it. You’d wanted more freedom in your duties, didn’t want a youngling clinging to your leg begging for help with their rudimentary saber drills, so instead you swapped it for what you thought would be constant battle, exhilarating speeder chases, and the glory of proving yourself. Unbecoming of a Jedi to wish for, yes, but you’ve never claimed to be Council-worthy.

Now your butt is sticking to the chair you’re planted in, overlooking a very empty, very desolate, very boring outpost. It’s so hot that you think you’ve melted into the chair and fused with its fabric. Standing might tear your skin away from your flesh, leaving an imprint of you behind in your seat.

“General,” One of your clone troopers calls, sticking his head through the doorway to your station, “Nothing on my scanners.”

“Nor on mine,” You drawl lazily, “We’re scheduled to be inspected today. Any word from the crew?”

“None.” He laments, “I just hope they bring a droid that can fix the cooler.”

The base you’re stationed to isn’t always this disgusting. The structure is wired with an air conditioning system to keep the inside much cooler than the outside, but after a rather unfortunate incident with a freshly manufactured astromech droid with some crossed wirings, both lay broken and singed in the maintenance bay. Your clones don’t know how to tinker with droids or heating systems, and you’d probably wind up just as ash-covered if you tried.

“Alert me when they land,” You order the trooper, leaning your forehead against the cool metal of the scanner screen before you, “I want to have time to change into an outfit I haven’t soaked through with sweat.”

The scanner grows warm against your flushed skin far too soon. Everything is hot, and sticky, and gross, and you find yourself yearning for the cold showers you used to despise at the temple. Perhaps you yearn for the temple in general, for the familial atmosphere shared among overconfident Padawans and exasperated Masters. You think specifically of Obi-Wan Kenobi, a man you’d trained with, now Master to his apprentice Skywalker.

You haven’t seen the pair in years, but you remember Anakin’s blonde mop of hair, as well as his penchant for chaos. Watching Obi-Wan’s eyes fill with horror at whatever shenanigans his Padawan had gotten into that day was part of what helped you make the decision to decline one yourself, though you hold no distaste for the boy. He was simply young and untrained in the ways of the Jedi, and you were not a patient enough person to gracefully navigate that predicament then. You’re not sure you are now, either.

Even though you know you’re better suited on your own, you wonder if you’d have been more fulfilled with a Padawan learner of your own. Surely anything could be better than this, wasting away- rotting on a planet hot enough to boil your blood if you stepped outside without proper protection.

Your base is secluded and temperature-controlled, even if the contraption that the Republic had fashioned under pressure of time to keep you isolated is rather crude. It’s, in essence, a large dome, seals in place to ensure that vessels can land and takeoff without destroying the temperature control. It’s cooler within the dome than it is outside of it, but the hurriedly-designed system can only do too much, and you greatly depend on the air conditioning to do its job. Now that it’s not, you’re irritated from the heat, and you wish that the inspection team would just hurry up already. The patience you’d had drilled into you from your early years as a Youngling is nowhere to be found under the pressure of a heat wave, and your foot taps impatiently against the floor while you itch for some action.

You think it’s rather pathetic that you yearn for excitement so badly that you’re anxiously awaiting the inspection team. Their job takes barely an hour, a scan of your equipment and a survey of your troops. They’ll walk in and out without so much as a pleasantry, but you long for something new, something more, something exciting.

The call over your comms comes over an hour later, a time in which you remain at your post but begrudge it all the while. “General,” Your trooper barks, voice staticky and rough over the channel, “We’ve got visitors. Inspection team’s here. Initiating landing procedure.”

“Copy that,” You bolt out of your seat, barely remembering to lean over the microphone to reply, “Thank you.”

Finally.

Finally, someone new to talk to, even if they have the same face as everyone else you’ve spoken to on this long, dreary assignment. You’re friendly with your troopers, of course, but that itch for more is back in your brain, igniting you with vigor you don’t normally possess as you rush to greet the inspection team.

However, when you reach the landing bay, and the ship’s hydraulics hiss, clone troopers aren’t the only ones to disembark. Jedi robes make their appearance, shrouding the very man you’d just thought about, as well as the child by his side.

Obi-Wan wears the years that have passed since you last saw him, but time has treated him well. His hair is longer now, gone is that stiff Padawan buzz. His braid is missing as well, giving way to luscious strawberry blonde strands that he’s slicked back so that they drag against the back and sides of his neck. Longer hair looks good on him, just as it had when he was fifteen and had refused a haircut for months in a typical, if rather tame, display of teenage rebellion. Anakin is also significantly older than you’d kept track of, but he can’t be older than fourteen if his lanky limbs and awkward demeanor are any evidence.

Obi-Wan smiles at you, and you nearly forget to shove down that shameful part of you that wants to take more out of him than he can give you. Even as Padawans you’d always gravitated towards the man opposite you, sneaking out to roam the gardens after hours together or sharing sly glances across mission briefings. But he’s an honorable Jedi Master - a member of the Council itself, so you’ve heard - and you wrestle down your repressed feelings to grin at him.

“General Y/L/N,” He greets with a smile so charming you lament that the Jedi Order interrupted his chances of being a model.

“Master Kenobi,” You greet, but you know he’ll chide you for the honorific if you use it more than once, “I wasn’t aware you’d be on the inspection team.”

“We’re not. Technically.” Obi-Wan admits, arm coming to press against Anakin’s back and nudge him forwards, “We got word that your air conditioning system is out, as well as one of your new astromechs. Anakin here is still an excellent mechanic, I thought we’d come out to offer you some reprieve from the heat.”

Anakin looks embarrassed by the attention that’s fallen upon him, in typical pubescent fashion, and you take pity on the timid teenager, casting your glance back at his Master, “Maker, thank you. We’re melting out here.”

“I can imagine,” Obi-Wan laughs, and you turn again to Anakin who’s anxiously awaiting your orders.

“Anakin, if you could fix our air conditioning, that would be wonderful. Honestly, I’m not even sure I want the droid fixed, it’s what got us into this mess in the first place. But they’re both over there,” You point to the shorted out panels, “And my troopers will offer you any supplies you need, like tools or wiring or refreshments.”

“Thank you.” Anakin nods, hands clasped behind his back obediently even if he looks mortified to be the center of attention once more, “I’ll have things up and running as soon as possible.”

“I’m leaving you here,” Obi-Wan warns the boy, pointing an accusatory finger at him, “I don’t often leave you alone with machinery and tools, Anakin, for reasons we’re both aware of. Promise me you will not do anything reckless?”

“I promise,” Anakin mutters reluctantly, and you avert your eyes so he has some semblance of privacy.

“I mean it, Anakin. This is no time to experiment with your technical prowess. You simply fix their system and you wait for me back on the ship, understand?”

“Master,” Anakin pleads, “I understand.”

“Very well. Get to your duties,” Obi-Wan dismisses the boy, turning to you only after he sees his Padawan crouch by the singed panel.

“He shouldn’t take long. He most likely will try to tinker with the astromech, though.” Obi-Wan smiles sympathetically, “He’s not one to leave a droid unusable.”

“I remember he had a particular talent for mechanics,” You muse, starting off towards the main base intent on leading Obi-Wan to your rec room, “If I recall correctly, he figured out how to inconspicuously rewire his communicator to give you an ‘unavailable’ signal if he didn’t like what you were asking him to do.”

Obi-Wan scoffs as he lets you lead through the doorway, “Yes, my Padawan has always had very selective hearing. I’m sure you don’t mind not having one of your own.”

“That’s one of the reasons I justify my choice,” You chuckle, letting the door shut behind you as you make your way through the halls. The base that the Republic had granted you is spacious, even decked out with training facilities and rec rooms interspersed throughout your rows of quarters, but it’s unbearably hot and you’re tired of being cooped up inside of it.

“This isn’t bad for a base,” Obi-Wan muses, robes swishing behind him as he strides beside you, “But I hope Anakin fixes that cooling system soon.”

“Try being stationed here permanently,” You scoff, tugging at the sweat-soaked neckline of your tunic, “I have long since abandoned my robes.”

“Do you have somewhere I could set this?” Obi-Wan asks, fingers catching the front of his cloak as he slings it off. It falls gracefully from his shoulders, and he holds the garment up as he laments still having to wear the rest of his robes.

“You can leave it in my quarters,” You veer sharply to the right, letting him catch up, “They’re just down this hallway.”

There’s unmarked doors on either side of the corridor, and you’re still impressed that each clone trooper knows where their bed is at night. Your door has a plaque beside its frame that reads ‘General’s Quarters,’ and you’re not confident that you could navigate the halls without it. You type in your access code, and the door slides open with a hiss.

“Just set it on the bed,” You gesture towards your mattress, “If we have some time, I thought,” You reach into the closet, pulling out your seldom-used lightsaber, “We could spar.”

Obi-Wan laughs, discarding his cloak onto your bed as his eyes crinkle happily at the corners, “You’re lacking a bit of excitement here, aren’t you, Y/N? There’s no way you’d duel me willingly after I took you down the last time.”

You’d sparred together since you’d been handed a saber for the first time. Sure, your initial weapons were wooden, then training blades designed to be duller than their more advanced counterparts, before you’d finally been granted allowance to manufacture one of your own. But there were no more dedicated sparring partners than the two of you, and you can tell the man opposite you is fond of the reminder you’ve given him, even if he is trying to tease you.

“You did not take me down,” You gawp, “I mean- yes, I was on the floor, but I wasn’t done! You didn’t win!”

“Mm, yes. I didn’t win because no one did.” Obi-Wan sends you a sly grin, “Anakin interrupted us, don’t you remember? We never got to finish.”

“Then a rematch,” You insist, gesturing towards the open doorway, “Once and for all we’ll prove who the better duelist is.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll win. After all, I can tell you spend every waking moment practicing and making sure you lose none of your fighting abilities,” Obi-Wan’s hand darts out to switch on your holotable, revealing an in-progress game of chess. You’re losing.

“I’ve only been using that as of late,” You snap, defensive, “It’s insufferable to train without proper ventilation. And only when I’m not on duty. I don’t spend all of my time sitting and playing chess.”

“Losing at chess.” Obi-Wan arches an eyebrow, finally stepping out of your quarters so that you can shut it once more, “Come, Y/N, show me to your training grounds.”

The training room is just as hot as everywhere else on the base. You walk through the doors and humid air greets you, something that wrinkles Obi-Wan’s nose and rustles his mustache.

“God, I hope your Padawan knows what he’s doing,” You groan, rolling up the sleeves of your own tunic but jumping excitedly into action despite the heat. You ignite your saber, slightly embarrassed by the thrill that the weapon gives you as it thrums to life. You haven’t felt this in a long time, at least, not paired with the thrill of battle. It’s significantly less awe-inspiring to ignite a saber against a training droid you know wouldn’t be able to singe your tunics if you stood stock still. Obi-Wan brings his to life as well; blue and green lights bathe your faces.

“I’ll go easy on you.” He smiles infuriatingly, cocking his head slightly to one side, “Ready?”

“Ready.” You jolt right, a fakeout before you dart left instead. He catches on rather quickly, though, and his blade clashes against yours as you aim for his leg.

“Nice start,” Obi-Wan admits, “But you can’t rely on misdirection for your entire fight. You’ll have to overpower me.”

“I could easily overpower you,” You swing left, breaking the contact of your two sabers, then jabbing so that he has to move his foot out of the way to avoid the plasma. He stumbles, barely catching himself against his back foot, but it gives you time enough to bring your blade up and around to nick at his shoulder, a hole now slashed into his tunic.

“Okay,” He stands straight, eyeing the tear in his clothing warily, “I won’t go easy on you.”

“Never underestimate your opponent,” You tease proudly, saber still ignited, “That’s one for me, Obi-Wan.”

“That doesn’t count,” He scoffs, standing at the ready, “I told you I’d go easy on you. Now I’m serious.”

“All I’m hearing is excuses,” You gloat, feet light as you step around him, “You lead this time, Kenobi.”

He does. He swings downwards, and you block your face with your own blade to stop him. He nearly jabs at your gut before you can prevent it, and you feel the heat from his blade as your own comes to block his.

You fling his weapon away with yours, and he lets you. After such a long period of no action (and shamefully little meditation) your abilities with the Force have grown slightly weaker, as have your regulatory skills. You can still sense what he’s going to do when he squares his shoulders, but you’re almost not fast enough to interpret those senses, and you barely make it to block him from swinging his blade in a fiery circle that would clip the edge of your arm.

“You’re rusty,” He taunts, his own Force abilities stronger than ever as his presence seeps through the cracks in your mind. You try to force him out, but it takes effort, and it’s effort you can’t expend elsewhere. It means that you can’t foresee his intent to aim for your face, and his blade hums inches away from your cheek as he holds it there.

You freeze; you’re caught.

We’re even,” You grunt, sweat beading at your forehead, “But we’re not finished.”

“Hang on,” He disengages his saber, letting the apparatus clatter to the ground as he tugs at one of the outer layers of his robes, “I’m going to shed a few things.”

“Stripping will not help your cause.” You tease, “I’m not distracted by sex appeal.”

Clearly, he isn’t expecting your jab, and he lets his mouth fall open as he slings off one of his garments, an incredulous laugh filling his throat.

“Y/N. You’ve obtained a foul mouth somewhere along your career. It certainly wasn’t in the temple.”

“It’s the clones,” You groan, “Try being stationed with a troop of grown men who went through puberty in record time. They’ve got the appetite of an adult with the filter of a teenage boy.”

“They’ve never tried anything with you,” Obi-Wan narrows his eyes questioningly, and you try to avoid looking at the sweat glistening against his tanned neck as he strips to his base layer.

“No, they’re respectful.” You assure him, “Just crass.”

“Yes, well,” Obi-Wan frowns distastefully, “They haven’t had Jedi training. I suppose I’m not surprised.”

He stands there for a moment with only his undershirt covering his chest, then decides that it’s still too warm, tugging at its hem to raise it over his head.

You feel your insides ignite with a fire you haven’t felt in a long time when his bare chest is exposed, skin marred and riddled with coarse, wiry hair. His stomach is flat but not as tight as you remember in your youth, softer now. You can tell there’s an impressive layer of muscle beneath the milky white skin, though, even if it’s not outwardly visible. He uses his tunic to wipe the sweat off of his face so you’re granted a moment to ogle him, your mouth watering as you try to conceal your thoughts.

“Okay. Enough with this child’s play.” You shake your head, letting Obi-Wan have just enough time to toss aside his tunic before you plant your feet against the mat. Obi-Wan stands at the ready, both of your sabers ignited, “I want a real match. A long one, now that we’re warmed up. Best two out of three, Kenobi. Winner takes all.”

“Winner gets to stand in front of the air conditioning vent when Anakin gets it up and running,” Obi-Wan suggests, sweat trailing down his neck and over his chest. You avert your eyes, lest the fraile state of mind you’re in betrays you.

“Fine.” You shrug, reaching for the hem of your vest. It’s tactical, good for keeping with you on duty, but it’s etching lines of sweat into your back now. You sling it off, letting it land in a heap similar to Obi-Wan’s robes, and exposing the tank top you have on beneath it. “I know just the one I’ll pick. In my room, there’s one just above the bed. Maybe I’ll let it hit my back while I win at holochess.”

“I think the heat might be getting to you,” Obi-Wan cracks, a slight heave to his chest as he tries regulating his breathing. It’s hard when you’re as hot as you are to get enough oxygen, and you’re doing the same. It’s awfully difficult not to indulge in the view of his bare chest rapidly rising and falling, and you feel a tug below your gut as a vision flashes through your mind. It’s of what else could make him pant in such a way, and you can’t afford to entertain the thought, not around him. “I’m not sure which outcome is more delusional; that you’ll win this duel, or that you’ll win at holochess.”

“You’re wasting time,” You croon, charging with your blade poised for battle so that you have no more time to fantasize, “I think you’re scared.”

“Do I feel afraid?” Obi-Wan laughs, blocking your attack with little effort and redoubling to launch one of his own. The clatter of your sabers almost drowns out his words, “Reach out, Y/L/N, all you’ll feel is confidence.”

“I’m not sure I could feel you if I tried,” You lament, chest heaving as you block one of his swings, “Not while my mind is occupied with our duel. I am rusty, you were right.”

“Practice more,” He chides, “Less chess, more meditation.”

“One is a lot more boring than the other!” You groan, barely managing to get your arm up in time to take a shot at his own, “And the less boring one is chess, so that’s really saying something.”

“It may be boring but it is beneficial,” Obi-Wan lectures you, and you wonder if he thinks you’re still a Padawan. You fight with heaving breaths and monumental effort, the heat sucking your energy out through the sweat that drips down your skin. He turns and his back is glistening, which is really not a sight that helps you to stay focused.

“Now I’m starting to see why Anakin tinkered with his communicator,” You call, as Obi-Wan whirls around your left side, “You’re very dull as a Jedi Master!”

You have to throw yourself onto the floor to avoid a swing at your head, your right shoulder aching as you do so. But you scramble away from him, righting yourself and miraculously avoiding the blade of your saber coming into contact with the training mat.

You stumble to your knees, driving the forward momentum you have against Obi-Wan as he tries blocking you. You nearly get a nick out of his pants, but he pushes you backwards with the threat of his blade, and you fall with your back to the mat.

Your stomach drops when a blue blade hums hot and bright near your throat, its tip directed at your jugular. It doesn’t matter that it’s on its training setting; it’s inescapable and daunting when it’s an inch from your skin. You’re done for.

“I may be dull,” Obi-Wan pants, beard glistening as sweat streams down his neck. His chest heaves as he speaks, bare and open for your eyes, and his pink tongue pokes out of the corner of his mouth to dart along his lips, “But I am victorious. Does this remind you a little bit of the last time we fought?”

It does. He’d been standing over you then as he is now, and you’d had to fortify your mind back then not to let slip vulgar thoughts about being on the floor below him. His thighs, meaty with muscle and strong from training, are hidden behind loose pants, but their crotch has tightened slightly, a chub to what should be a relaxed surface.

A pang of arousal shoots down your spine, and suddenly the lightsaber near your throat isn’t the most daunting thing in the room. It’s Obi-Wan.

He swallows, his adam’s apple bobbing as you lay beneath him.

“Your thoughts betray you,” He observes, and you feel his invasive presence in your mind, sucking out the private thoughts coursing through your brain. They’re of panting breaths, heaving chests, wandering hands, and meshing tongues; passionate embraces, intimate attachments. Things no Jedi should fantasize about, not under the code. Things that should bring shame to you, and maybe they do, and maybe you like it.

“Your body betrays you,” You’re able to muster, swallowing the saliva pooling in your mouth as you glance pointedly at his bulge. It’s only grown since you’d last glanced at it; evidently your visions did something to him too.

He sees, or perhaps, feels what you see, freezes, then clicks his saber off. The blade retracts with a hiss and there is a distinct vacuum of sound where its humming once was. He breaks the unnerving silence with a clatter as he tosses it aside, feet still firmly planted on either side of your hips.

“It’s natural.” He weakly supplies, a poor defense, “It’s adrenaline-fueled, nothing more.”

“Really? So when you duel sith lords, when you chop the heads off of battle droids, you walk away with a stiff dick?” You carefully observe his body language, feet poised like he might bolt if you make any sudden moves. He’s flighty, and you have to make your next moves carefully.”

“Y/N,” He begins, his voice weak, “I wish you wouldn’t use such foul language.”

“Is it the language that bothers you?” You push your elbows against the mat, hoisting yourself up at an obtuse angle to meet his eye better, “Or is it the truth it carries? Obi-Wan, you were right. It’s natural. And it is not something to be ashamed of.”

“It is against the Code,” He reasons, his voice still fighting to sound resolute. He offers no other reasoning, and you know it’s because he has none.

“It’s not.” You insist, “The Code is ancient and rigid. And celibacy is not required, only a level head.”

“That’s the problem,” He chuckles weakly, “I don’t have a level head when it comes to you, Y/N.”

“You seem as though you do.” You press cautiously, careful not to push your luck, “I’ve never felt anything unprofessional about your feelings towards me.”

“That’s because I haven’t been around you in a long time,” He admits, “Not consistently. I was better at controlling it- no, hiding it when we were Padawans. I had to do it every day, it was natural to me. But I am out of practice now, and I have been since you were stationed here. I barely have the ability to hide how I feel about you, Y/N. And- and it is not something the Council would approve of.”

You sit up now, fully straightened. You’re still between his legs, but you’d need to rise to your knees for your face to be level with his bulge. You plan to.

“The Council is not here. Nor can they see us, or hear us, or feel us. They will not know what we do, Obi-Wan.”

“I will know.” He breathes, his voice growing weaker each time he tries raising it against you, “Y/N, I will never forget a thing we do together on this base. If we… If you touch me, I will remember every brush of your skin against mine for eternity. If you- kiss me, I will never be able to put the thought of your lips on mine out of my head. And I would not know how to live without it for the rest of my life.”

Your heart sinks in your stomach like a stone in water. He’s loyal to the Order, he always has been. But you’d been so blinded by isolation, so convinced by your own delusions, that you’d assumed his loyalty to you would be stronger. But it’s not, and you can’t earnestly be angry with him for it.

You swallow what little saliva has accumulated around your tongue to give yourself something to do, then rise to your feet.

“It sounds like you should walk away.” You mutter regretfully. His eyes hold the same feelings, strikingly painful. He nods, almost imperceptibly, but before he can follow your orders, you continue.

“But will you forgive yourself if you do?”

You feel it, his swell of emotions. Every single one is unbridled, yearning, heartache, fondness, want; all of them unleashed from the man whose mind is usually a fortress. They’re washing over you like waves, invading your brain and turning your thoughts their colors.

“No. I couldn’t,” He admits, “But-” and there’s always a but, “The Council would never forgive me if I didn’t.”

“They won’t know.” You insist, but it’s lost on him, “Obi-Wan, please make a decision. Who is more important, you or the Council?” Then in a more timid, soft voice, as his soft eyes bore into you and beg for mercy, you give him the opposite, “Who is more important… me or the Council?”

He kisses you. There is no warning, no shift in his Force signature, only his hands on your face and his lips on your own. There is strength in his touch, his hands firm where they pull your cheeks ever-so-slightly towards his face as if he’s trying to mash them into his own. His beard is rough and grating against your face, but it’s not unpleasant, especially when it brings with it his lips. His lips, which are much softer than you’d have imagined them, merely frame your own. The kiss is sweet but chaste, and the only indication you have that he wants more is the way that he holds you against him. Otherwise you’d mistake his courtesy for disinterest, and you tilt your head slightly sideways to encourage more enthusiasm from him.

When your lips reconnect he sighs, a breath from his nose that fans over your top lip. He’s letting you lead, letting you dictate whether you want to keep kissing him or whether you’ll suddenly switch positions; it’s like he’s afraid that you’ll rip off a mask and reveal yourself to be Master Windu, scolding him for his reckless passion. But of course you don’t, and you lick gently against the plush of his bottom lip instead.

He hums at the feeling of your tongue against his mouth, but he’s suddenly pushing against your cheeks instead of pulling.

“Are you absolutely sure,” He starts, but can’t seem to resist the temptation to steal another kiss from your spit-slicked lips, “That you- mm, that you want this? Because I cannot-” He breaks off with a weary, pleading, defeated look in his beautiful eyes, “I cannot turn back if we go further. If we proceed… I will not be able to forget what we do. If you’re not interested… please tell me now, so that I may save myself from loving you for an eternity that you do not wish to share with me.”

You scoff, moving in for another kiss at his lips. He doesn’t reciprocate, only pushing you back so that you can respond.

“I just spent five minutes,” You pant, desperate to reconnect your lips, “Bargaining with you to get you to forget about your nerves. And you don’t think I want this?”

You try surging forwards again but he holds you back, eyes still begging for your words.

“Please. I need to hear you say it.” He seems almost self-conscious, worried you’re not interested in him the same way he’s interested in you. But you have been since you can remember, and you’re more than willing to work around the unconventional aspects of your relationship if it means you can have him, even just for today.

“I want you,” You breathe, the exhale hitting his lips, “Please- Obi-Wan, I want you. I want you no matter what the Code says. No matter what the Council says; I want you.”

He looks like he could cry. He is devoted to the Order, far more than you have seen most Jedi, and to hear you choose him over the Code must mean a great deal. He pours passion into the kiss you share, chest filling with oxygen that he gulps just to be able to keep his mouth on yours for longer. He consumes you, fingers pulling at your cheeks and tugging you closer still, like he thinks you might fuse if he tries hard enough.

He groans into your mouth, his tongue more exploratory now that you’ve pledged your devotion to him. He’s not afraid of taking now, of getting his hopes up only to be thrown down, and he swipes the wet muscle in a hot stripe over your own tongue. He rolls it against your lower lip, so wonderful to kiss for someone with such lacking experience.

“No one is coming,” You breathe, exhaling against his mouth as your hands wander to his waistband, “No one- no one can see us.”

“I want you in your quarters.” He protests, grabbing your wrists when your hand sinks to his bulge and ghosts over it. He jolts at the unexpected contact, but holds you back, “I want to lay you down, Y/N, I want to indulge in every part of you. Worship you.”

“I will let you,” You moan, tilting your forehead against his and mouthing at his lips in a sloppy kiss, “You may have me any way you want, Obi-Wan. But here, I- I want to have you. I need to have you now,”

“Impatient,” He notes, sounding suspiciously close to lecturing you. But he lets your wrists go, and you sink to your knees instantly. He hears them hit the training mat, knows they must ache, but he can’t find any part of him available to worry about it, not now that your hands are prying greedily at the waistband of his trousers.

He’s a near stranger to physical pleasure, at least in recent years. He’s a grown man, he has urges, but he also has responsibilities, and the constant pressure of an ambitious (read: reckless) young Padawan under his supervision mixed with a quickly-rising rank within the Jedi Order leave him with little time nor interest to indulge in his barest desires. Your hand gently squeezing his clothed bulge as you wrestle with his pants nearly knocks him off of his feet, and he’s not sure he’ll be able to handle having your warm mouth envelop it.

Finally you tug loose the drawstring within his pants, and yank them down his thighs. They’re seldom bare, you see from the milky white tone of the skin there, but they are muscled and thick like he does not neglect them.

You can’t help yourself when you lean forwards, tongue already protruding from your mouth to lick a fat, wet stripe around one of his thighs. It’s sturdy beneath your tongue that dips into the crease between his skin and the parts of it that are covered by his briefs. His muscles tense like you’ve struck him with a fatal blow, and an open-mouthed groan escapes his lips.

His skin tastes of the sweat that’s currently moistening every inch of your bodies, salty and tantalizing. There’s no escaping it in the brutal heat, but it makes him all the more sexy, his skin glistening before you even get a chance to smear it in your saliva.

You’re guilty of impatience as he accuses, and you can’t resist mouthing at his covered bulge. He’s half-hard, but when your lips purse around the outline of his cock in his briefs he twitches, and you feel him stiffen against the restraints of his underwear on your tongue.

His knees give out with no warning, and he barely has the foresight to grab desperately at a bench press behind him for stability. He falls quickly to its surface, perching on the edge of it while you desperately chase his cock. You fit your mouth again over his briefs and drool against the fabric, surely soaking it through with your saliva. His cock, though restrained, is heavy and thick on your tongue, making your mouth water and produce enough drool to soak through his entire ensemble. His hands clutch the bench beneath him with white knuckles, and he grits his teeth to stop himself from shouting as you suck at his clothed cock.

“Oh, Y/N,” He pants, voice strained as you get lost in your task and forget that you need to actually pull his briefs down. He reaches for your head, gently nudging you away with his knuckles against your temple.

“Darling, please, I can’t- I won’t last for very long. Please, have me properly.”

He grips at the waistband of his underwear, tugging them down hurriedly and letting his cock spring free. It’s of decent length, but slightly thicker than average, its base shrouded by a patch of curled hair at his groin. It’s a similar caramel color to the rest of his hair, and his sweat has accumulated particularly within its wiry constraints, leaving him musky. The smell might bother you if it were anyone else, if you were anywhere else, but here and now, on your knees for Obi-Wan in the training room, it’s the most disgustingly tantalizing thing you’ve ever smelled in your entire life.

That’s why you bury your face into it, the hair tickling at your skin. His hips jolt as you inhale deeply near the base of his cock, groaning and letting your tongue fall to drag against just the shaft of his erect dick. He’s painfully hard, embarrassingly seconds to orgasm, and your spit now glistening on his length doesn’t help. Or it helps too much; either way, he’s close to cumming and you haven’t even had a chance to put him in your mouth.

“Darling,” He begs, pushing at your forehead once more, speaking through an eternal shortage of breath, “Please, I- it all feels too good. I can’t take it. I won’t last long.”

“That’s okay,” You pant, your breath falling over his cock as it practically pulses with pleasure, “We’re here for a good time, not a long time.”

“Terrible,” He manages to chuckle weakly, but any further chiding he has planned for your cheekiness is cut short when he stops breathing. He actually forgets how when your wet mouth closes around the head of his cock, your tongue licking flat over its head and covering most of its surface area. It’s so much sensation so fast that Obi-Wan has to clench his hands around the bench not to cum right then and there, and he feels pinpricks of pain over his skin that he realizes are from his fingernails digging against his palms. When you draw your head back off of his cock with a slick sound, then move in again to take more of his length into your mouth, his lungs suddenly remember their function, and heave within his chest.

His groans are filthy and they only pool more slick wetness between your thighs as you kneel for him. You don’t care about the ache in your knees, nor the pain in your neck from the slightly awkward angle you’re indulging in him at. All that matters is his cock, heavy and thick on your tongue, sweat and precum alike flooding your taste buds.

His restraint is put to the test. He’s a member of the Jedi Council, for Force’s sake, and he should have a little more control over himself than this. But it takes almost all of his energy not to buck his hips forwards and plunge the length of his cock down your throat, and it means that he’s not able to devote as much restraint to delaying his orgasm as he’d like.

He’s twitching in your mouth, and even with your faded Force abilities, mental muscles weakened by disuse, you can feel the tension coursing through his veins, hot and wild. You don’t need to look at his strained, white-knuckled grip on the edge of the bench to know that he’s devoting all of his energy to restraining himself, and you take pride in being able to undo Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi with merely your mouth. You indulge in his painful hardness, tongue smoothly caressing the underside of his length as you bob your head back and forth around him. Each time you draw back you flick your tongue up and over the ruddy, leaking head of his cock, something that makes that fiery tension in his body glow even hotter.

“I’m going to-” He warns you, voice petering out weakly as he tries controlling himself, “I can’t- I can’t help it, I’m going to cum.”

“Cum,” You speak in unison, your word coming out muffled as you speak it against his cock. You smooth your hands up his thighs, feeling his muscles impossibly tight beneath your fingers. You stroke them soothingly, encouraging him to unclench his jaw that’s wired so tightly that you’re sure his teeth are on the verge of cracking, “Cum, Obi-Wan, please.”

Even if you hadn’t asked him so kindly, he’s sure he wouldn’t have been able to withhold any longer. Not with your pretty eyes gazing up at him from between his legs, lashes latticing the tender emotions swirling in your gaze. Your fingers slide calmly, sweetly over the expanse of his thighs, and the mere thought of you digging your nails harshly into them and leaving marks is what elicits the final twitch of his dick on your tongue.

Evidently, you’re more in tune with his thoughts than he’d expected. You’d caught the quick image that had flashed through his mind, now completely unguarded to you, and you curl your fingers quicker than he can comprehend, carving searing marks into his thighs that will show up red for at least a week. Paired with the movement of your fingers, you suck hard at his cock, plunging your face forwards to nestle against the base once more. His tip hits the back of your throat with force and it makes you gag, and Obi-Wan isn’t sure what sensation is more overwhelming: the vivid burning at his thighs, the way the tip of his dick nestles so securely into the warm, wet sleeve of your throat, or the way that you’re breathing in his sweat-marred scent like it’s the purest oxygen you’ve ever had in your lungs. All he knows is that together, they’re his undoing, and he lets out a rugged cry; he can’t control himself any longer when pleasure roars through him with a fury he’s almost frightened of.

He’s always calm, collected, in control. But now he’s grabbing your face with shaking hands as he pumps warm spurts of cum down your throat, holding your jaw steady so that you can’t back away, not that you want to. He holds you in place while his thighs begin to tremble, your tongue continuously smoothing over the underside of his cock while it twitches in your mouth. He keeps himself fully nestled into the back of your throat while he cums, and if he had energy to be embarrassed about cumming as much as he was, he’d be apologizing. But he can’t, not when you’re swallowing him so eagerly, throat convulsing around the head of his cock and only milking more out of him. There’s obscene groans coming from his mouth, the kind that bring heat to your own core, and you think you could get off to the sound a thousand times over if you recorded him now. They’re deep, throaty, and desperate as he holds your face around his cock, gagging you on his dick as his orgasm takes control of him.

A part of your training that hasn’t left you yet was your extensive disaster training, in which you were taught how to extend the time for which you could hold your breath. That comes in especially handy when Obi-Wan’s hands cradle your jaw, keeping you snugly choking around his dick. You have to fight not to draw back at the strange sensation of your throat being plugged while his cum splatters against the back of it,, and you use all of your strength to keep yourself from panicking at the lack of airflow. You’re only slightly ashamed to admit that you’d willingly die like this, a fucktoy for his cock.

Once his orgasm has worked its way through him he seems to remember you can’t breathe, all of the tension having leaked out of his muscles. He inhales with a start, pushing against your cheeks and tugging his cock out of your mouth, “Oh, Y/N, darling- Y/N, are you-?”

At the sight of your spit-soaked lips, tongue desperately running over them to collect any of the sweat that had accumulated there from being pressed against his pelvis, he lunges forwards to meet his lips with your own. He can taste the slight savory hint of his own release, your tongues meshing wetly and messily. He’s hunching now, even though you’ve straightened up on your knees, and he feels you clumsily palm at his dick, tucking him back away into his briefs. It makes his lips go slack with a gasp even though he’s just finished, and he’s more than eager to take you by the wrists and help you to your feet. You toss his undershirt at him with careless speed, and he nearly gets lost in its beige expanse from the way that his arms shake as he pulls it over his head.

“My quarters,” Your voice is thick and ragged, still recovering from your prior lack of oxygen, “We can- it’s soundproof, no one will know.”

“Yes,” He breathes, legs shaking slightly as he gathers the rest of the clothes he’d shed while sparring with you, “Um- we can... Anakin still hasn’t gotten the air conditioning running.”

“Uh-uh,” You shake your head, feeling nothing from the vent to your left, “Hurry, let’s go before-”

“General,” The door slides open, and you both startle, much less in tune with the force presences of those around you than you’d like to admit. One of your troopers sticks his head through the door, “The kid needs a multitool.”

You blink once, registering a slight soreness at the back of your throat, “Get him a multitool, then.”

You’re sure he can see your haggard appearance, and all apart from the glossy look of your lips looks like you’ve been sparring. Which you have, technically. You just hope Obi-Wan’s trousers don’t look like they’ve only just been hitched up around his waist again, or his shirt barely pulled down over his chest.

“I lost mine, general,” The trooper admits sheepishly. There was an abundance of the supplies that were offered to you before you’d been shipped out to this battle station, and more had been stocked for a long time in one of the supply closets, but your troopers are bored more often than not, and you shudder to think of all of the times they’ve used them as target practice by standing them on the balcony and opening fire. Apparently, you need to request some more from the next inspection team, as well as impress upon your troops the difference between an abundance of resources and useless clutter begging for a blaster wound.

“I have one in my quarters,” You sigh wearily, “Let’s see to it that we don’t misuse our equipment anymore, soldier.”

“Yes, General,” He nods vigorously, stepping out of your way to offer you the open door.

“Obi-Wan,” You turn apologetically, “We’ll have to continue our sparring match after I retrieve the multitool for your padawan. You’re welcome to follow us, though I’m not sure it’s any cooler out there than it is in here.”

“I’d like to stash my clothes somewhere, if you don’t mind,” Obi-Wan holds up the outer garments he’d shed, “I think it gives you somewhat of an unfair advantage if I’m liable to trip over my own tunics.”

You grant him a good-natured laugh as you pass your trooper in the doorway, and all in all, you think that the two of you have done a fantastic job at pretending his dick wasn’t in your mouth only minutes ago.

Your trooper makes the wise decision to stand outside of your quarters when you enter them, although any initial disappointment you’d felt at his poorly-timed request has well worn off by now. That’s all he’s guilty of, anyways; you find their antics amusing despite their destructive nature. It’s not his fault that you’re canoodling with the Jedi master, so you forgive him his abhorrent timing. You beeline for a locker in your closet, punching in the numeric code and letting the squeaky hinges reveal your small weapons store. It’s a multipurpose space, blasters on a rack that’s affixed to the back, a mount for your saber, and a drawer of various other mechanical supplies down below. You throw it open, and Obi-Wan watches you dig for the multitool where he stands by your bed, his tunics laid on your bedspread.

You realize all too late that one of your other mechanical supplies is in full view of the Jedi master standing behind you, black in color for subtlety but unmistakable in shape. It’s phallic and has a second prong that shoots off of the base to vibrate against your clit, something you only use when you're absolutely certain no one can hear. Besides, the sound could very well be mistaken for one of your troopers shaving their scruff, so you have ample opportunity. You snatch the multitool out of the drawer and slam it shut, making your trooper’s shoulders twitch in a quickly concealed wince. You’re thankful that only Obi-Wan was a temporary witness to your lack of organizational skills.

“Here,” You rush to hand it off, forcefully locking the cabinet and thrusting the tool towards the trooper, “Take it- uh, keep it, I’ll put in a request for more supplies tonight.”

“Thanks, General,” He nods warily at you, and you pity the way he’s taken your context clues and misarranged them to view your behavior as standoffish and exasperated with him, “My apologies again.”

“No worries,” You try not to snap at him, unnerved by the abnormal lack of mental pressure from Obi-Wan behind you. He used to tease you abundantly in your youth, prying at your mental shields and slipping snide remarks through the cracks while you fought to keep a straight face, but now that he’s laid his eyes on possibly the most embarrassing item you own, he’s completely still, completely silent.

“Goodbye.” You shut the door with a hydraulic hiss, and stand facing it until Obi-Wan speaks, pretending to fuss with the control panel.

“It seems you overlooked another multitool in that drawer,” His voice finally reaches over the silence, carefully bundled so that the underlying mirth is something you can only guess at, “Now I wonder if your battalion is really the cause of your foul mouth.”

“Shut up!” You whirl on him with cheeks blazing on opposite sides of your face like Tatooine’s twin suns, “Don’t tease me-”

“I’m not teasing you!” He insists, voice sounding aghast, like it’s out of the question, like he’s offended by the accusation, taking your arms into his grip when you look like you might shove him. His face is split into a smile - not a grin, which is reassuring - but a warm smile, even if there is amusement twinkling in his eyes.

“Yes you are,” You scoff, and you have half a mind to pull away when one of his hands releases your arm and anchors itself against your face instead. It’s warm, rough from wear but impossibly gentle. You fight leaning into it for as long as you can, pride still bruised, but he leans in to press his lips against your forehead in a chaste kiss.

Typical.

You’d gagged on his dick ten minutes ago, and he’s kissing your forehead.

“Darling,” He hums sympathetically, tucking your face against his chest so snugly that you think it was engineered for the curves and bumps of your skin. You relish the hug he traps you in, the tender hold even though you’re interested in something more carnal, feral, hungry. His voice is strong and soothing as he speaks, and the vibrations thrum through his chest and against your face “You had my cock in your mouth not ten minutes ago. I’m not going to make fun of you for having a toy.”

Oh. Perhaps he hadn’t forgotten.

“Such a foul mouth,” You admonish him, tucking your grin away between the haphazardly-righted folds of his tabard.

He pinches at your side, fingers greedily prying at the soft flesh of your belly through layers of clothing you wish weren’t between your skin and his, “Yes, well, it’s because I’ve had yours all over me.”

His hand, similarly bold to his mouth, flattens out along the curve of your side, tucking into the space above your hip bones. The other stays in place against your cheek, finger running idly across the underside of your jawline. You don’t know whether the shiver that shudders down your spine is due to the ticklish nature of his touch, or the sensual area he’s chosen, but he feels your spine thrum, and he presses further into you like it was an invitation.

“Darling,” He starts, back to that well-practiced hesitancy, “If you still want to…”

“I do,” You nod, feeling sweat drip down the back of your neck and soak into the fabric of your tank top, “Do you think we have time?”

“Anakin can occupy himself with scrap metal and multitools for hours,” Obi-Wan recollects with a smile on his face that isn’t committed to fondness or resignation. You’re sure he’s proud of his padawan’s abilities, but not of the havoc he wreaks with them.

“Hmm, that might be cutting it close,” You pretend to debate it, gnawing at the inside of your cheek, and he lets out a laugh as warm as the runoff heat from his saber with none of the bite of its blade.

“You’d occupy yourself with me for hours?” He teases, but when you nod, it’s earnest.

“I’d occupy myself with you for the rest of my life, Obi-Wan.”

The breath that he draws in when you begin speaking is the last one he draws for a while. Instead he holds it there, letting it burn and sear at his lungs while he wonders if any words he could produce with it would contain even a fraction of the yearning he feels roll over him in a nauseating wave. Very little has ever made him want the life of a civilian - his home is between the opulent walls of the Jedi temple, but any walls he shared with you would be infinitely more grandiose if only for your place within them.

“Had you said the word,” He elects to speak the truth, even if it isn’t even a chip away at the trove of feelings he keeps locked tightly away in his mind for you, “I would have left the Jedi Order.”

Would have.

You know why he won’t now, and you’re not upset with him for the reasons. You understand them, even if you don’t relate to them.

“But Anakin…”

“I know,” You nod against his chest, fingers taking hold of his undershirt’s fabric edge and fastening there, “You made a promise to your master. And to him. And he needs your help. I wouldn’t ask you to leave.”

“Would you have? When we were younger,” He idly strokes down the length of your spine, arm wrapping comfortably around your waist.

“Maybe…” You admit, “Maybe if I’d known your trip to Naboo would bring about such change. Maybe if I’d known I only had a few years left with you as we were. But I didn’t. So I never asked. And I never will.”

He doesn’t react verbally or physically after your confession, but the silence that ensues isn’t an awkward one. Instead, he maintains his hold on you, and you feel a gentle wave of affection flow from him through the Force. Affection, appreciation, love, which you feel so broadly through the Force, but rarely so devoted to you yourself rather than the galaxy in its entirety. You’re no stranger to the feeling, but it’s different channeled privately between two people than it is as a way of life.

“Let us pretend,” Obi-Wan finally musters, his voice thicker than usual, though if you were not so in tune with him you wouldn’t have perceived it, “For the next few fleeting moments, that we are still young. That we don’t have responsibilities other than those to ourselves, and to each other.”

Though your youth may have escaped you, your mind weary with resignation and Obi-Wan’s eyes darkened with the perpetual exhaustion of adulthood, his touch does not feel tired or incapable. It feels strong, firm, and mindful where it slips from your chin to your waist. His other hand sandwiches you between them, and you’re tilting your chin up to kiss him before he gives any indication that he’ll do the same. But he does, his boldness almost reset from the interruption you’d suffered. Like you need to coax him out of his shell again, like he’s worried you’ve somehow changed your mind.

You take the back of his neck in your hand, finding it slick and tacky with sour-smelling sweat, and pull him down so that his lips smash messily to your own. It’s a move he’s not expecting, and a startled groan escapes his lips as proof. You drink it, sucking it down your throat and pulling him towards the bed with the same backwards momentum. He’s nimble even if he’s unprepared, probably to do with his extensive agility training. You’re more than ready to fall back onto your bed when your calves butt against the frame but he lowers you down gently, with ease, drawing back from your kiss despite your fervent protests to watch you look up at him.

“Obi-Wan,” You beg, your voice weary, “Why are you hesitating?”

“I’m not hesitating,” He answers, and you feel it to be truthful, “I’m admiring you, darling. I’m not unsure, I’m more sure than I’ve ever been in my life.”

“Prove it,” You plead, already pulling at the hem of your tank top. You peel its sweat-soaked binding off of your skin, showcasing the equally stained garment beneath it that keeps your chest closer to your neck than your stomach, “Please, Obi-Wan, take me like you want me. Not like you feel bad for having me.”

“I do not feel bad for having you,” He promises, mouth barely parting from yours to utter the words. His lips are pink-tinted, glistening with spit, probably a mixture of his and yours. He pants slightly, cheeks similarly ruddy, “Perhaps later I will. When I stand in front of the Council and tell them we conducted routine maintenance. When I lie, when I guard my memories of you from them. But I’m not occupied with that now, darling. Only with you, I swear it.”

“Oh, well, that’s good to know,” You hum, kissing an inch lower than his mouth, the apex of his chin that’s marred by the scruff of his beard. It’s prickly and rough beneath your lips, and when you draw back they glisten with transferred sweat, “I’m glad you’re not thinking of Master Yoda while dipping a knee between my thighs.”

“Oh,” Obi-Wan ducks his head, advances on pause as he plants his forehead against your shoulder, “That’s awful. Really, truly vile.”

You laugh, and despite his disgusted bravado, so does he. His chest shakes against yours and you relish the sound, hand still planted firmly on the back of his neck. You briefly consider breaking out your rusty Yoda impression, ‘kiss me, you must’, but decide against it, instead choosing to press his head closer to your torso, letting his forehead lay flush and sweaty against your shoulder. It puts the scruff of his beard on the curve of your tits, and you feel it burn your skin as he kisses along it lightly.

His mouth is soft, and his beard is its abrasive opposite. They trail in tandem along the slope of your breasts, first the soft lips and then the burn of the beard, until he’s lit a fiery trail across your skin to the padded edge of your bra. When his lips meet fabric instead of skin he noses beneath it, surely smelling a morning’s worth of sweat accumulated beneath the weight of your chest. You’re self conscious, for only a flash, then he takes a deep drag of air, inhaling until his chest seems fit to burst.

“I’m sorry,” You find yourself humming, regardless of his clear interest, “I wish a shower would help. Even the cold water doesn’t prevent sweating.”

“I don’t want you to shower,” He muses, pushing his face between your breasts to kiss at the skin between them. He mouths gently, tongue sliding over your skin with little form and too much spit that blends well with your sweat, “Sex is not sterile, darling. Soap and water defeat the purpose.”

You’re not sure whether it’s his insistence on the natural state of your body or the way that his knee gently prods against your center, but whatever it is, your fingers itch and you fling them up to cup the underside of your chest.

“Take it off,” You beg, and Obi-Wan shows no hesitation in complying, his hands sliding beneath your back, rough and weathered from work. They’re gentle as they slide over the clasp of your bra, and you push yourself up onto your elbows on the mattress so that he can maneuver the stretchy fabric easier.

“Does it hook or button?” He nudges his nose against yours to ask, and your stomach flops at the question. Both the fact that he doesn’t have enough experience to know, and the way that he feels comfortable enough admitting that to you by asking so earnestly only make you want him more, and you’re barely able to mumble ‘clasp’ before pressing your lips to his own once more.

“Three,” You add later, against his lips, when he unhooks one and still doesn’t have the garment undone, “There’s three.”

He takes your orders with unfailing patience, a trait you’d admired even in your youth. While you’d been more prone to hotheaded outbursts, he’d take you by the arm and speak for the both of you, usually resulting in far less severe of a punishment than you’d have gotten if you’d spoken your mind. Then the two of you would share sneaky, fleeting glances at each other while scrubbing the floors of the refectory, trying not to laugh loud enough for the Knight unwillingly supervising your punishment to hear.

You’re pulled out of your reverie when he finally unhooks the garment and slips it off of your shoulders, meaning you have to draw back from where you’d tucked your face over his shoulder, giving him a view of his work. As your faces pass each other he offers you the same grin he’d worn all those years ago, his pretty eyes alight with the love you feel seeping from his fingertips. You see a glimpse of the boy he was through the man he’s become, and both are equally endearing to you. The first, because you’d grown with him, like ferns tangled together in sticky, clinging tendrils. The second, because he wears his accomplishments on his face, crows feet at the corners of his eyes from laughing at his padawan’s wayward antics, and frown lines for scowling at the same incidences only moments prior. He’d laughed at you in your youth, and frowned just the same at your more uncouth ideas for adventure, and now those expressions are etched into his face, like layers of makeup no longer dissolvable with remover. He’ll wear them forever, and you want to see him display them even in his old age.

He watches the way that your body moves when he peels the sweat-soaked garment away from your chest. He watches your breasts succumb to gravity’s harsh pull, sloping sideways and downwards rather than maintaining their tight compress towards your chin. He watches them sag, watches them fall to their natural state and declares, “You’re beautiful, darling.”

He takes them in his hands, their mass in his palms as he rolls his thumb over the skin of your nipples. They’d usually pebble in the cold but now they’re pulling taut beneath his touch, and when he brushes his thumb over their peak you stifle a gasp.

“Beautiful,” He repeats, and leans down to meet one with his mouth. He gravitates towards the right one first, and the embrace of his hot mouth against your skin tempts your back to arch. His tongue presses flat against your nipple, then drags up its surface, and his lips kiss over the stripe of saliva he’d left behind.

His beard rubs against your skin and it’s not rawing, not yet, but you know it will be the more he mouths at your breast. He’s licking, sucking, pulling, but never biting, teeth merely grazing your flesh rather than indulging in it. His tongue does that instead, flattening out over your raised flesh and dragging hot, wet stripes over the bud of your perked nipple.

“Obi- Obi-Wan,” You gasp, dragging desperate, heaving breaths into your lungs as your hands fly to his lengthened hair. You’d ruffled it many times when it was short and spiked, but now you’re able to get purchase in the strawberry-blonde locks, curling your fingers around the soft, sweat-darkened strands and pulling.

You don’t pull hard, but it’s unexpected, and you feel the momentary pinch of Obi-Wan’s teeth around your breast. It floods heat to your already-pulsing core more than you’d have thought possible, considering the sweltering temperatures you’ve been in the whole time, but the soft groan that then ripples through your skin from the depths of his throat only makes you more desperate. All of a sudden the long-suffering heat is tepid by comparison, and you yank at the material of his undershirt so hard you nearly rip the fabric.

“Off,” You pant, “Please, take it- get it off, Obi-Wan.”

In a fluid, crouched movement Obi-Wan tears his undershirt off with one hand at its hem, his muscles flexing as he swings the arm up and over his head. He discards the shirt carelessly beneath him and it droops to the floor, no longer covering the bare skin of his chest that you’d admired earlier.

You have half a mind to do to him what he’s been doing to you, to sink your teeth into the flesh of his chest and suckle on his sweat-soaked skin. But he dips his face back to mouth at your tit once more, so you settle for running your hands greedily, desperately over the layer of soft skin that blocks his muscled chest from view. When he was younger, what seems like an eternity but must only be five years, his build was more defined. You’d gotten plenty of eyefuls of his bare, heaving chest during a particularly intense sparring match, or down by one of the large pools that were definitely supposed to be used more for reflection and tranquility rather than the chaos you’d wreaked upon them. But years of planning someone else’s schedule before his own has meant that he’s softened out around the middle, muscles still prominent when you dig your fingers into his skin, just not starkly visible anymore.

Age does that to a person; pushes them harder than ever before to achieve a less-defined result than they’re used to, but you find that you want to grind down onto the thin layer of pudge he’s accumulated just as much as you’d have wanted to drag yourself over his defined abs. The thought of doing both, either, anything makes you dizzy with desire that you express by scratching your sharpened nails down his skin, feeling his muscles shudder beneath your fingers.

“Darling,” He groans, choking on the word like it’s gagged him, “I- I think we ought to- are you ready?”

You marvel at his sincerity, at the idea that he’s not aware of the throbbing, slick mess that your core has become. You’d been ready twenty minutes ago, sprawled out on the floor beneath him, and you’ve only gotten more eager since then. His concern makes you want him more, and you use your grip on his soft hair to tug him upwards to meet your lips in a kiss.

“I’m ready,” You breathe, laying the words out in a hazy moan over his tongue, “I’m ready, Obi-Wan, please- please take me.”

A groan melts from his mouth like molten butter, dripping over your tongue and down your throat. He pants, lets you suck his tongue into your mouth in a long, eager drag, then mumbles clumsily, “I want you. I want- I want to have you, darling, I want to take you.” His hips roll experimentally against your own, the tight pressure of his clothed cock digging into your panties as he nearly loses the function in the muscles that are holding him up above you.

He lets out another moan as you drag your hips up to meet his premature thrusts, and this time it’s a weaker sound, more strangled and mottled. It’s satisfying, knowing that you’ve reduced the ever-stoic, prized Jedi negotiator Obi-Wan Kenobi to a heaving mass of sweat and desire. His undershorts are rucked up around his meaty thighs, but he hasn’t yanked them off to free his stiff cock yet, so for a moment, all you do is grind against each other.

The layers of clothing between you, one covering you and two covering him, provide frustrating boundaries but much-needed friction, and the scrape of his rough undershorts dragging against your thin panties makes your fingers curl into his back once more. You suspect that when he wakes tomorrow, your marks will still be there, and you take pride in knowing that he’ll have a very hard time forgetting you.

“Obi-” You really do intend to say his full name, but your breath leaves your lungs too quickly for it, and you revert back to the nickname he’d loathed as a teenager. Too juvenile, he’d protested greatly at the clipped diminutive, but he leans into it now. He licks the word right off of your tongue, his own plunging past your lips and dragging over your teeth in a messy, imprecise fashion. You get the sense that this is not about sex to him, it’s not about mechanics or equations or the perfect formula. It’s about you, and him, and you and him together. He doesn’t kiss you like a storybook prince because he kisses you like Obi-Wan, and Obi-Wan wants to lick the spit out of your mouth and suck on your tongue. Obi-Wan wants to feel, not think, for once in his life, so he does.

“Obi-” You falter again, hands traveling from his muscled back to his hips. Your fingers dip beneath the waistband of his undershorts, then his briefs where they lay against the same stretch of skin, “Off. Off, please- Obi-Wan, off, take ‘em- off.”

He grunts his approval into your mouth, obscene squelching sounds coming from where his spit pools between your teeth and your tongue. He reaches down with a blind, clumsy hand to tug at his waistband, but when it doesn’t provide immediate results, he finds himself getting frustrated. It’s an unfamiliar feeling, not the frustration itself but his inability to control it, and he feels his brow crease in irritation as he reluctantly parts from your mouth to focus on the task at hand. All he needs is a little extra leverage to slide his shorts off of his waist, briefs bunched together, and as soon as they’re out of his way he’s reaching for your own underwear.

You crane your neck downwards to watch him, and the glimmering mess of saliva in your mouth practically doubles in volume at the sight of his red-tipped, rock-hard cock. It’s curved slightly up towards his stomach in its desperation, and there’s precum oozing from its tip, foaming and all too appealing. You want to suck him off again, to really choke yourself on it this time and never draw back for air, but there’s no time when he tugs swiftly at the elastic band of your panties, tearing them easily away from you. They drag beneath your thighs but he merely pulls harder, until they spring free and bunch up around your knees.

“Up,” Obi-Wan taps at your left thigh, and you struggle to bend your knees amidst their relentless trembling. He helps you, strength having stuck with him even when composure has abandoned its post. You get your left thigh up first, exposing your glistening cunt, smeared sticky with your own slick. His breath catches, you feel it stutter to a stop in his chest that you’re groping, and his eyes glimmer in the warm lights above you.

“Darling,” He breathes, taken by the mess of your drooling cunt. He reaches out, touches it carefully, with only the pad of his pointer finger. He ghosts it along the side of your slit, and even the infuriatingly chaste touch is ultra erotic. At the way you writhe beneath a single one of his fingers he brings his thumb up to stroke down your slit, catching wetness on his thumb that his mouth opens to accommodate.

He sucks your release clean off of his thumb, you’re almost certain he scrapes his teeth along his skin just to get it all.

He leans into his own thumb, chases after it like he’s not the one taking it out of his mouth. He hesitates no further in clamoring backwards on the mattress until his knees hit the floor below, and he thanks the Force that the beds you were given are low enough for him to lean over the edge and bury his face in your cunt.

“Obi-Wan, no!” You plead, fingers tangling in his pretty blonde hair, “You’ll- you said- don’t cum yet, please, I- I want it in me!”

“I will cum in you,” He pledges, voice deep and determined as he nudges his nose against your wet cunt, “My darling, I’ll do whatever you ask. But I need you here, now. Please,” He breathes, his exhale shaky and warm as it heats your cunt, “Please, Darling, I want you here.”

“Have me,” You whimper, squirming your hips from side to side to propel yourself down the mattress. Your cunt bumps messily against his face that he doesn’t bother moving, and you buck your hips once, twice against his nose, riding his face, “Please, have me, Obi-Wan, you can have me.”

Your consent is all it takes. His mouth is open and his tongue is out the second you say the word, licking wet, tantalizingly slow stripes up your slit. He doesn’t breach it, doesn’t delve his tongue into your entrance, he laps at the slick smeared on the outside, as well as the wetness that has thoroughly soaked your thighs. Your skin is tacky with it even when he’s replaced it with his spit, and your cunt throbs at the meticulous approach he’s taken to appreciating every drop you give him.

It’s too meticulous.

After another slow, careful, nearly chaste lave of his tongue over the crease between your thigh and your cunt, probably just as soaked with sweat as it is with slick, you retighten your now-loose grip in his hair. You’d let go of the strands when he’d given you what you wanted, but now you want more, and you lead him straight to your core where he’d been lapping at your thighs instead.

“Here,” You beg, pulling his face against your drooling cunt until you’re certain he’s unable to breathe. You feel his nose breach your slit, nudged into your cunt by your insistent tugging on his hair.

“I need you here, inside, please.” You beg, pussy aching with abandon. His slow, careful ministrations had driven you mad, and now you are teetering on the edge of insanity as you nearly howl, “Please!”

His response is white-hot and wet. His tongue prods gently from between his lips as his jaw widens, and he watches your reaction as he fills your cunt with his slick tongue. A gush of your own wetness greets him, and as insistent as he is at meeting your eyes, his own flutter shut at the taste.

“Force,” He breathes, and the exclamation is uncommon from him. The muffled, garbled word sends vibrations straight into your cunt, and after the initial shock of his tongue inside of you, you feel his beard.

It scrapes abrasively against the sensitive, licked-over skin of your inner thighs, and prickles deliciously at the base of your leaking cunt. You feel sharp hairs prod at the curve of your ass, and his mouth moves fluidly, tongue wriggling with surprising prowess through the mess of slick you’ve accumulated in your cunt. It slides wetly along your inner walls that have made way for his tongue, and that will stretch eagerly to accommodate his cock.

His cock, oh, you’d forgotten the thick weight on your tongue, and your jaw aches with the ghost of it. Your cunt aches, too, and when his nose softly bumps your clit you gasp as your hips jolt upwards. He catches your thighs with Jedi agility, his muscles not straining at all to hold you to the mattress. The casual, easy display of strength makes your thighs quiver, and something inside of you tighten like a knot.

He licks you out like he’s drinking ambrosia, the glistening substance smeared over his face and starting up the bridge of his nose. The noises that he makes are hungry and wild as he licks more, sucks more, takes more. He’d moderated himself at first, lapped the sticky spillings of your wet cunt like he was rationing a meal. Now he feasts, tongue losing focus from inside your pussy and rapidly licking over your clit. His lips suction on and his beard burns tantalizingly at your sloppy cunt. You feel stimulation everywhere, the knot below your belly tightening ever-stronger until you feel the beginnings of a fray. It’s a step you take, an incline that you scramble up, and each pedestal you achieve gives way to a higher one. You let yourself climb, climb, climb, against every pulse of his suctioned lips around your sensitive bundle of nerves, and you breach the clouds as Obi-Wan broadens his sucking mouth to half-latch to your clit, his tongue delving back into your drooling cunt. You leap for the final pedestal and a surge of pleasure hits you, soaking wet like a wave that you ride back down to the surface.

You tremble, you whimper, you love. Your thighs shake, the muscles in your stomach stuttering as your hips jolt and jerk. Your mouth produces such feeble sounds, whines and moans and ‘Oh, please, yes’s, and ‘Obi-Wan- kriff!’s. Your fingers in his hair latch tight but cling gentle, holding him to you as you lose control of yourself in the Force. All of the love, all of the passion, all of the attachment, all of the terrible-horrible-no-good-very-bad-un-Jedi-like things that you’re not supposed to feel surge through the Force and hit Obi-Wan like Coruscant’s train, knocking the wind out of him, though he never stops sucking at you.

Obi-Wan licks you through your orgasm, tongue pressing tight and hot and wet to the quiver of your cunt, letting it spasm against his mouth. He sucks up every last drop of slick that you’ll give him, greedily mouthing at your cunt long after it’s begun stinging from oversensitivity. You want his mouth off, and his cock in, although that first part sounds like a heinous thing to wish for. His tongue is perfection, slippery and knowing you well enough to hit just the right spots even though it’s never had you before. You only push his mouth away to beg for his cock, but you’re tempted to let him white out your vision and lick at you until he passes out.

“Obi-!” You gasp, pushing instead of pulling at his golden hair, “Obi-Wan, no- no more! Here, up- here, please, and I want you inside of me.”

He lets you unlatch him from your pulsing cunt, rife with the sting of stimulation. You need only a matter of seconds to come down from your high, but they’re seconds you can’t afford to spend on Obi-Wan’s tongue, or the clock won’t ever start. He licks at a smear of slick over your thigh that he’d missed earlier, and his brain seems to register your begging.

“Alright, darling,” He pants, out of breath from the way he’d spent it all in your cunt. His voice is ragged, drowned in slick and thick with want.

He clamors back onto the mattress, all humbly-forged muscles and greed. He hovers over you, and dips down to claim your mouth the way he had your cunt: with broad, sweeping swipes of his tongue. He licks your slick across your tongue, letting you taste yourself on him.

“I’m here,” He soothes, his voice a notch deeper than usual and his words malformed due to the open ring of his mouth. He licks against your tongue once more, sloppy and hot, as his hips grind down against your thigh. He knows you need time but he doesn’t have long, and he grinds against your hip until you’re ready. You feel his stiff cock digging into your flesh, and it sends pulses of energy to your recovering cunt that make it beg to be filled. He’s not composed the way that he normally is, but he’s managing to hold himself together through grunts and groans into your mouth. If you don’t act fast, he’s going to splatter your stomach with cum, which wouldn’t be distasteful by any means, but you’d rather him paint your insides with it.

“You are intoxicating,” Obi-Wan proclaims, speaking directly into your mouth, an addict that can’t wean off of his drug, “I don’t know how I am supposed to pretend like this never happened.”

“Don’t,” You beg breathlessly, “Don’t forget me. Keep quiet around others, and- and when you are alone,” You reach down to take his cock into your hands, heavy and thick and waiting, “When you lay in bed at night, when you touch yourself-” He lets out something teetering on the edge of a whimper as you stroke your hand along his flushed length, an angry red coloring the tip that exposes how much self-control he’s composing, “-touch yourself, and- and think of me. Think of my hands, of my mouth, of my cunt. Think of me, Obi-Wan.”

“I will,” He vows, his voice holding like a frayed rope with one thread remaining, strained and pulling and clinging together, “Please let me have you. Please,” He braces his forehead against yours, his cock throbbing in your palm, “Please darling, let me in. I want to be inside of you, I want to have you, please.”

You’ve never seen him babble before. Not when he’d been seven years old, bright-eyed and rosy-cheeked, caught with a stray tooka cat in his robes halfway back to the creche. Not when he’d been fifteen and a warrior, his side split open in a gory mess of blood and flesh and lymph and bone. Not at his old master’s funeral, the light from the pyre’s flames dancing upon his stoic features. Obi-Wan Kenobi is a master at composure, but he is breathless now, sacrificing it to the dewy-warm crease where your neck meets your shoulder, and sucking up your sweat-salty scent in return.

You place your free hand on his back, sticky and flushed beneath your touch, and use it to help guide him into you. Your other hand, still wrapped around his cock, lines it up with your entrance and he needs little coaxing from there. He pushes himself into you slowly, courteously, but loses himself to some deep, primal urge that he’s buried beneath layers of meditation and balance.

He comes undone.

His muscles surge and his hips buck in what begins as a steady pace, but transforms into a wild rhythm that pins you against the mattress. He lets out a groan into the sweaty juncture of your neck, something that sounds like it could be from a beast and not a man. You feel the scrape of his beard against the seldom-touched skin there and you’re sure it’s growing raw, but you couldn’t care less. He’s not holding your hips up - his hands are plastered to your side and holding you there with a force carefully and pointedly short of bruising - but you angle your pelvis up anyway, allowing him to hit that much deeper inside of you. The tip of his cock never hurts where it connects briefly each thrust with your cervix, but you feel it intimately, every vein and ridge and curve that his body has to offer.

You’re grateful for the sound-proof walls of the military compound because you realize after a moment that you’re making noise just the same as he is. It’s softer, quieter, but it’s there, the underlying harmony to his leading grunts and groans.

All the while he is soft and gentle, because what he wants is not sex, it is you. Perhaps if he were a lesser man, he’d squeeze you, or bend you, or break you, all to take you the way he wants. But it is the soul inside of you that he’s after, and he takes great care with the vessel it’s enclosed in. He holds you, but he does not squeeze you. He kisses you, but he does not bite you. He moves with you, not against you. Your hips surge upwards to meet the thrusts of his cock and he latches his mouth to yours desperately, pleadingly. Your breathing is short and staccato through your nose, fanning against his top lip as he mashes it messily to your own, and you’re much easier to bring to a climax the second time around, sensitivity still roiling in your blood from your previous orgasm.

“Obi-Wan,” You beg, the words spilling languidly into his mouth, as you move in tandem, in, out, in, out, forwards, backwards, everything, nothing.

“Obi- I’m gonna- ooh, I’m gonna cum,” You cry, overwhelmed by the consistent drag of his cock against the walls of your soaked cunt. You’re slick again, gushing enough to replenish however much Obi-Wan had licked out of you. It squelches as he drives his dick into your pussy, foamy from the repetitive motions that are only creating it at faster intervals.

“Please- please do,” He moans, his dick twitching inside of you, “Force, I- ah, there’s nothing I want more than to feel that, darling. Please- please cum, please-”

“Kiss me,” You plead, even though he’s never stopped, if the way that his mouth moves against yours can still be considered a kiss. It’s far from any conventional peck on the lips, mostly tongue and drool that seeps down the side of your mouth and into your neck, mixing with the sweat already lingering there from your workout.

He tries kissing you more neatly, his lips tightening and suctioning around your own, but the closer you both get to your impending orgasms, the sloppier his thrusts are, and the more slack his mouth goes, smothering your own instead of truly kissing it while his tongue continues its dogged pursuit of your own. It’s no matter; his spit leaks uncontrollably into your mouth and you relish the taste. You don’t need perfection, you need him.

You can’t help your wandering hand from snaking down to his waist, curving just below his cock to cradle his balls against your palm. They’re heavy and warm as you take them into your hand, and doing so elicits a gasp from the man chasing his release inside of you, his hips stuttering in their pursuit of the wet warmth of your cunt. You squeeze them, not harshly, just a gentle compression, and Obi-Wan melts. A whimper escapes his lips, still slack and pressed to your own, and though his thrusts momentarily slow, they resume at double the pace. He’s rapidly bucking his hips now, barely containing himself enough to lift one hand off of your side and bring it to your chest. He fits his palm over one of your breasts, your stiff, sensitive nipple caving against his palm. You gasp at the prickling sensation and your fingernails momentarily dig into his back, but when his dick twitches once more inside of you, desperate, fit-to-burst, you drag them down his back in searing red lines.

If you hadn’t been able to feel Obi-Wan cum inside of you, you’d have known it was happening from the cry he releases alone. It’s abrupt, like his orgasm catches him off-guard even though he’s been pursuing it. But you can feel it, you can feel his warm cum ooze out of the head of his cock, momentarily stationary as it’s snug against your cervix. You feel it gush from his dick, filling any and all available space in your pulsating cunt before flooding outwards, dripping down your ass and thighs in an obscene display that soaks right into your bedsheets. Obi-Wan rides out his climax at a pace rapid enough to coax your second one out of you, and you welcome the now-familiar sensation of cumming around Obi-Wan. It’s mind-numbing, your ears ring for a faint moment, and your cunt rapidly clenches and unclenches around his cock that’s all too happy to continue occupying the space.

He grunts, moans, and groans as his sloppy thrusts finally slow, and your cunt appreciates the reduced pace. You’re well and truly spent, difficult to achieve for someone who’d gone through endurance training since childhood, and you’re not surprised that Obi-Wan, too, needs a break. He lowers himself to your chest with a slow, shaky exhale, eyes closed and face glistening with sweat just as your own does.

His beard grates roughly against your skin, shifted with every ragged breath that he draws in. His hair spills over the breast that his mouth isn’t nestled beside, and you stare down at his face, marveling how beautiful his barely-fluttering lashes and heaving chest are.

Before he opens his eyes he angles it towards you, so that the first thing he sees is your flushed, sweaty, open-mouthed expression. He’s in the perfect position to kiss the side of your breast, and it tingles with the phantom sensation of his palm flat against your perked nipple barely minutes before. His beard scrapes your skin like it has since you first kissed him, and you wonder if you’ll ever be able to live happily without the scratch of it against your cheeks, or thighs, for that matter. The skin between your legs is still raw, stinging with the friction of Obi-Wan’s coarse hair against your flesh..

“You look beautiful, darling,” He hums, his voice grated raw from fatigue. His breath fans hot over your chest, but he pushes himself up on his tired biceps to hover over you. His weight against you had been comforting, but his gaze is even more so, and you let him loom over you.

His chest, peppered with auburn curls so fine they glisten in the poor lighting of your quarters, rises and falls deeply in front of you. You have half a mind to bury your face in it; you might if his face wasn’t impossibly more captivating.

His eyes search yours, for what you’re not sure, but you realize that his breathing gets more shallow until his chest stills completely. He only releases his breath when you reach up to thumb gently at his sternum, loosening his lungs again.

“Do you regret it?”

You suppose you didn’t have to ruin the moment so harshly, but you want to know the truth. You want to know if this was worth it, or if you’re going on the list of regrets that Obi-Wan pours over obsessively.

He takes a moment to answer, but you suspect it’s because he’s been caught off guard by your question. He shakes his head, dipping his face down to kiss the swell of your cheek.

“No, I don’t.” He mumbles against the dewy skin of your face, hiding his words there in self-preservation. You kiss the fleeting scruff of his beard as he pulls away, and your eyes find the blue of his instantly.

“You needed convincing at first,” You recall warily, something sinking in your chest now that you’re not puppettered by lust, “Are you certain it was the right thing to do?”

“Not at all,” He admits, “In fact, I think it was wrong of me. But I’ve done it anyways, and I am happy for that.”

“Why wrong?” You ghost your knuckles against his cheek, and he leans into it like he used to do when you’d clean scrapes and cuts he’d acquire while sparring.

“I am more attached to you now than ever,” He offers simply, but it doesn’t seem like it pains him to confess. He seems lighter now, less embroiled in his own anxiety. “And I’m not certain I can keep my personal feelings- well, personal. I don’t know that I could think rationally about you. That’s not desirable to the Order, or to the war effort.”

You bite your tongue, teeth digging softly into its muscle.

“All the same,” He continues, “Jedi are not without attachments. Younglings form friendships in the creche, and their minders love them. Padawans love their Masters, and vice versa. Masters engage in relations,” He acknowledges, then his brows tick up and he considers, “Ki Adi Mundi has four wives. Perhaps I’m not the most blasphemous Jedi they’ve ever seen.”

A laugh comes tumbling from your lips before you can stop it, and Obi-Wan’s face softens into a grin of his own.

“Five,” You correct him, “He has five wives.”

“Force, he’s a heretic,” Obi-Wan exclaims, but it’s all for show; he holds no ill opinions of the council member.

“I’m happy for his wives,” You hum, the sound just short of a giggle, “But I prefer your beard over his.”

“Oh, but he’s got a better mustache than me,” Obi-Wan settles on his side facing you, a smile etched permanently into his features as he plays along with the banter you’ve started. He relishes its lighthearted nature compared to the hesitance of moments prior, “Maybe I should grow it out and curl it like his.”

Before you can offer him another round in exchange for a promise to never shape his facial hair around Master Mundi’s, the walls of your compound give a creaky grinding sound, then a rumble, and air whooshes through the vents you’ve come to loathe for their uselessness in the recent past.

“He did it!” You gawk, sitting up excitedly, nearly forgetting that you’re topless, “Oh Force, Anakin’s a wizard! He really is, he’s a mechanical wizard, and I’m going to buy him a speeder for this.”

“Do not,” Obi-Wan groans, sitting up beside you and tugging you easily to fit your back against his chest, “The last thing that boy needs is the ability to go faster.”

“He did it,” You sigh happily, leaning back and pressing your lips to Obi-Wan’s. He reciprocates easily now, unlike before when he’d run himself ragged with doubts.

“That means we’ll be off soon,” Obi-Wan reminds you gently, and you deflate slightly in his hold, “But I don’t think comming each other should be any issue.”

“Every night?” You suggest, kissing at the prickly cleft of his chin.

“That’s- ambitious.” He chuckles, but it’s not meant to tease, “Every night, darling.”

“You can send me dirty videos,” You gush, scrambling to free yourself from Obi-Wan’s hold when he tries locking his fingers onto your sides, nipping sharply at your shoulder.

“I will not!” He insists, voice firm but chest trembling with barely-withheld laughter, “Force, if I pressed the wrong button…”

“Perhaps Master Mundi could share it with one of his wives,” You laugh, scrambling back into your underclothes and heading for the fresher to clean yourself up, “Hurry up and get dressed, Obi-Wan, one of my troopers is probably on their way to tell us the good news!”

Your suspicions are confirmed only moments later, thankfully, after you’ve both had time to right your appearances. You look flushed and sweaty, if anything, but the cool air hasn’t managed to flood the entire compound yet, and you’ve been exercising, so it’s excusable. No one but you two needs to know that exercising didn’t mean sparring for longer than ten minutes.

“Anakin, you’re fantastic,” You call, rushing through the empty hangar where he’s standing near the ramp of the ship, “You’ve saved us all. I’m fairly certain my troops would have resorted to fratricide if we’d had to melt here for any longer.”

The padawan gives you a valiant effort at a polite chuckle, and you press on, “For the record, I told your master I’d get you a speeder for helping us today, but he said no.”

“Y/N,” Obi-Wan starts, exasperated, but catches himself on the use of your first name. Perhaps it feels different now, coming out of his mouth much more measured than it had only twenty minutes prior. He doesn’t speak further.

Anakin’s eyes briefly glint at the fantasy of his own speeder, but he controls himself quickly. He’s a credit to his master, who manages to look convincingly like he hadn’t just broken a very long streak of celibacy. Still, you appreciate that war hasn’t managed to suck the most basic of excitements out of the child, and you reach up to pat his cheek in a gesture distinctly un-Jedi like.

“Take care of yourself, and don’t let Obi-Wan bore you with a million lectures on economics, or politics, or the two combined.”

Anakin nods, but bites his lower lip to refrain from smirking, saving himself a lecture on sass later on. You hear Obi-Wan exhale huffily behind you, and you turn your attention to him when Anakin retreats onto the ship.

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t add to my apprentice’s willfulness,” He grouses, but the corner of his mouth twitches upwards in fondness for you both, “He’s got enough of that on his own.”

“Take care of yourself,” You ignore his teasing, your voice tender and sweet, slightly more than it had been for Anakin, “I know they don’t send you out much, because he’s only fourteen, but- but please take care of yourself, Obi-Wan.”

Perhaps if Anakin hadn’t been lingering on the ramp of the ship, perhaps if there weren’t five clone troopers stationed in the hangar, perhaps if you were the only two people in the world, like it had felt less than an hour ago, Obi-Wan would have kissed you. But he doesn’t, all he does is nod,

“We will,” He vows, and you nod, satisfied.

“I mean it,” You continue, more threatening than your earlier sentiment, “Comm me.” And you think back to the request you’d made earlier, breathlessly, the words fanning out against his sweaty skin, “And… think of me.”

You know he’s recalling the same moment in time when his cheeks tinge pink.

“I will,” He promises, singular this time, confirming your suspicions that his mind is flashing with visions of your flushed skin beneath his hands, “And please take care of yourself, too, General.”

Something hard and aching tugs at the back of your throat at the honorific, such a far cry from the intimacy you’d shared. But now you are General Y/L/N, and he is Master Kenobi, and that is the way things must be in the presence of others.

“Master Kenobi,” You bow, bending at the waist and noting the soft tug of soreness there.

“General Y/L/N,” Obi-Wan mimics your gesture, hands folded neatly into the sleeves of his robes.

He turns. He pivots on his feet and strides up the ramp of the ship they’d taken, Anakin waiting until he’s passed through the doorway to follow behind him. The door hisses shut, concealing them both, and the mechanical whiz-kid has the engines powered up in no time. You watch their ship take flight and navigate the narrow entrance to your hangar with ease, waiting until they’ve passed each temperature-isolating layer of defense that enshroud your compound and disappear into the planet’s heat-hazy atmosphere to turn away.

“General,” One of your troopers lingers behind you, “Is everything alright?”

“Yes,” You put on a convincing show, smiling serenely, “I’d just forgotten how much of a challenge sparring with Master Kenobi is. I’m fatigued; I think I’ll retire to my quarters for some rest.”

“General,” He nods, stating your title like a vow of loyalty, standing at attention as the hangar doors finally shut you in.

You walk the familiar path to your sparse quarters absentmindedly, feeling that same twinge of achiness each time you take a step. Only once your door hisses shut do you release the prim tension in your shoulders, slumping and slouching like you’d just escaped the throes of battle.

There is a shirt on your bed.

It’s white, though it’s been worn thoroughly, so the color is muddied ever so slightly with the tan tinge of sweat. It’s rumpled, from a hasty removal. It’s laid over your poor excuse for a blanket, cream-colored against the starkly contrasting black fabric. It’s impossible to miss, which means it had to have been placed there deliberately; it wasn’t forgotten.

It’s Obi-Wan’s.

You overcome your momentary stun and pad towards the bed, reaching for the shirt with a hesitant hand. You take it, feel it ever-so-slightly damp with lingering perspiration, and your stomach flips.

It’s Obi-Wan’s; it’s yours.

The shirt winds up snug around your pillow, tucked beneath the Republic-issue linen. It’s invisible to the outside eye, but when your nose is pressed gauchely into the pillowcase you can smell Obi-Wan through it, a mix of natural and artificial scents.

The musk of cologne and the acrid smell of sweat. Composure and lust. What is right and what is wrong.

You and Obi-Wan.

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

#obi-wan kenobi x reader #obi-wan kenobi smut #obi-wan kenobi fanfiction #obi-wan kenobi imagine #obi-wan kenobi fluff #obi-wan kenobi oneshot #obi-wan kenobi one-shot #obi-wan kenobi one shot #obi-wan kenobi headcanon #obi-wan kenobi headcanons #obi-wan kenobi hcs #obi-wan kenobi hc #obi-wan kenobi fan fiction #obi-wan kenobi fanfic #obi-wan kenobi blurb #obi-wan kenobi drabble #obi-wan kenobi dialogue #obi-wan kenobi x y/n #obi-wan kenobi x you

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cryinginmyroomsposts · 3 months

Text

New Year's Day - Kim Mingyu

tags: fluff, friends to lovers, slight angst, lil' bit jealous, college boyfriend Mingyu, non-idol!au

masterlist

Not proofread!

"Tell me why we thought hosting a New Year's party at our apartment would be a good idea!" Your roommate's voice comes booming from the kitchen as you struggle to organise the lights on the wall above the sofa in your shared apartment living room.

"It definitely was not my idea." You bite back, regretting the idea the more by the minute as you clean and plan for the party.

"Haw! The audacity... you invited 15 people." Sam glares at you from the doorway, one hand on her hip and the other holding a ladle in a menacing way.

"I didn't know we would end up having to invite all of them." You admit. Sam sighs and walks towards you. "It's okay babe, I know you only wanted to invite Mingyu. It's not your fault he wanted to bring all 12 of his friends. And that two of them would want to bring their significant others."

"I really am sorry for all the trouble you go through for me Sam. I really appreciate it. Thanks." You both know you mean it. Sam had agreed immediately to the idea of the party seeing as how excited she was to see you and Mingyu get together.

Mingyu had been one of your closest friends in the last two years of university and you have been in love with him since the first semester you had met him. After two very lonely and self-destructive semesters of breaking your own heart, watching him date other girls and staying away from the one person you wanted to be close to, this last fall semester Mingyu had finally shown signs of reciprocating your feelings. Or so Sam felt.

At this point, you were so in your head about the whole thing that you could not differentiate reality from the illusions in your head. Breaking your heart had become a child's play for you and now it took constant encouragement and reiteration from Sam to even try to make moves on Mingyu.

He had been single for a whole semester and his behaviour toward you recently had been way different than before. The whole idea of a New Year's Eve party had been Sam and your idea to get Mingyu to finally realise his emotions (if he had any other than that of friendship for you). While the details had not exactly been worked out, you figured you would at least get to spend time with him in a closed setting.

The initial plan was to invite three of each of your friends and keep it as intimate as possible so that you and Mingyu could spend most of the time together. But when Mingyu had excitedly asked if he could bring along some friends, you had given in thinking it would be two or three but it ended up being thirteen instead. Not your fault that he looked like an absolute puppy when he wanted something.

The party was in an hour and now the two of you were running around trying to set right the drinks, decorations and food. Mingyu had promised to show up earlier and help with the food and setup but he was yet to arrive.

The sound of the doorbell breaks your train of thought and you go to open the door.

Speak of the devil.

"Ya! Why are you so late?" You question before he could greet you. As always Mingyu towers your entire doorway while looking gorgeous. He's wearing a simple black tee and joggers but manages to look like a million bucks.

He giggles and pulls you into one of his famous bear hugs and before he can reply another voice echoes from the stairs leading to your doorway.

"Mingyu ya, help me here please." The voice is soft and high-pitched. Before you can question it, Mingyu turns around and runs downstairs. When he returns, there is a girl in front of him, she is dressed in a modest pink dress, with bouncy curls lining her shoulders and a smile that lightens up her whole face. She is very pretty.

"Oh hi. You must be Y/N, Mingyu talks about you a lot. I'm Maya." She says extending her hand out to you. Her voice is soft and she looks very friendly and you shake her hand with a smile on your face.

"Hi, Maya. Welcome! I hope he has only told good things." You joke lightly and she laughs nodding.

"Yes, yes! I hope it is not a problem for me to join." She says as you lead her in, Mingyu towers over both of you as he walks behind her holding a box full of you're not sure what.

"Absolutely not an issue Maya! Please go have fun."

Once they are in, you close the door and walk straight to the closest restroom. When the locks are secured you open the tap and let out a breath that you didn't know you were holding in. It is not logical for you to jump to conclusions, but the fear still creeps in.

"Y/N, stop being stupid! She's a friend, seems sweet and is probably an amazing friend." You tell yourself through the mirror. But the problem is not her, you wouldn't hate or behave differently with her for a second. the problem is you and your fear that Mingyu has again chosen someone else over you. The problem is he doesn't see you, again, and you get left behind to be the best friend only, again.

The feelings are all too familiar to you after all this time. You are very close to breaking your own heart, hurting yet another piece of you to show up as Mingyu's good friend and support him. You are almost entirely convinced and right as you are about to break down the knock on the bathroom door interrupts you.

"Ya Y/N, you okay?" Mingyu's soft "Y/N-voice" (as Sam calls it) booms through the bathroom doors and stabs your heart like a glass shard. This is why it is so much harder to break your own heart. Because this man is so good and caring and everything you could ever want and yet he would never be yours.

"Y/n?" He calls out again. You wash your face and clear your throat as fast as possible. "Yeah, I'll be out in 5. Go mingle with people." He doesn't reply and you are too preoccupied trying to look party-presentable. This is why you jump when you find him staring right at you when you open the bathroom door.

"Jesus! Why did you scare me like that?" You ask trying to calm your heart rate. Instead of replying to you, he locks the closed room door and faces you while holding your shoulders. "What happened? Who should I hurt?" You chuckle and the worry on his face eases a little bit. His care for you only makes it so much harder to distance yourself and try to move on. This man makes it so hard not to love him.

"I'm fine Mingyu. I just had to use the restroom." You try your best to sound convincing but judging from the look of judgment on his face you can say he didn't buy it. Before he can begin his usual "Let people care about you" rant, Sam calls your name from the other end of the house and you excuse yourself to return to the chaos of the party. The rest of the three hours go by in absolute chaos of 13 grown men and 6 girls trying their best to socialize, vibe, and party in your apartment. You keep your distance from Mingyu and Maya, and find yourself clinging to Seokmin- Mingyu's friend. Seokmin is a very hot guy who is determined to be the party clown and you can't help but laugh every other minute at his antics. Everyone seems to be enjoying it, and several games are played.

"Everyone gather round and settle down. Ten minutes to midnight guys!" The sudden excitement in the air is infectious. You see that Seungcheol and Jihoon have settled on the couch with their girlfriends, Vernon is trying to be subtle about sitting next to Sam's classmate who he has been talking to since the evening began.

Right as you can figure out what to do about your Midnight seat, Sam pulls you into the kitchen.

"Where do u think you are going ?" She has the usual no-bs Sam stance, arms crossed across her chest and sharp eyes that can pierce through you.

"I- I am going to sit before Midnight strikes." You know where this conversation is headed.

"Y/N, why were you going to sit on the stool, alone. At midnight." If Sam's eyes were daggers, you would have bled to death in those few seconds of eye contact. The living room is buzzing with energy and you realize there are only 5 minutes left.

"Sam..." you exhale. She shakes her head in disappointment and walks away. You face the kitchen wall away from the living room and breathe.

Inhale... Exhale... Inhale... Exhale... In- "Hey..."

Mingyu's soft voice breaks your flow and you whip your head to see him standing right next to you. His palm is placed on the kitchen counter next to you and he is practically shielding you from the outside world.

"All okay?" He says, his voice is soft and slow. His eyebrows are furrowed in concern and he is leaning down to your height, face inches apart. His face is dripping with concern and it breaks yet another piece of your heart.

It would've been much simpler if you had only considered him a good friend like he does with you.

Mingyu lifts his eyebrows emphasising his question when you don't reply. You clear your throat and nod in affirmation.

"I'm good Gyu." "You sure?" You let a small smile at his concern, god he was so sweet. "Yes, Gyu. Don't worry. Just needed a small break from all the crowd before the new year."

He nods because he understands that sometimes crowds can overwhelm you.

"Why are you here?" You ask him, turning slightly to face him better. This immediately turns out to be a mistake as you are now trapped in between the kitchen counter and Mingyu's big frame. As the noise outside gets louder he leans further down toward your face and you repeat your question closer to his ear.

Can he hear how fast your heart is beating? Will he ever know how much you like him?

"I came to check on you because you were missing." He states matter-of-factly and you roll your eyes.

"There are only two more minutes for midnight Gyu. You should be out there, having fun."

"Yeah, you too." He sounds serious and you sigh.

"I will come out but you should go there. Maya will be waiting for you." Your voice croaks the last sentence and the knife in your heart sinks in further.

Mingyu looks confused at your words. "Why would she be waiting for me?"

"30 seconds to the New Year guys!" Someone shouts from the living room and you take another deep breath. Mingyu's eyes haven't left you and you are too nervous to see him for more than a second at a time.

"See less than a minute. Go out there before you miss your midnight kiss." You say in the brightest tone you can muster, hoping he understands you are referring to Maya and his midnight kiss.

"I don't need to be out there for that." He says the words slowly as his face is inches away from yours.

Huh?

Judging by the smirk on Mingyu's face you probably look like a deer caught in headlights at the moment. You're not sure how long you stay frozen like that until someone yells 15 seconds from the living room.

"Wha- what do you mean?" You gulp.

Mingyu moves his face closer, and he lifts one hand from the counter next to you to hold your chin. He angles your face and analyses it.

"Y/N?" Mingyu's voice comes out in a question, one you seem to be understanding.

Your heart is screaming in joy - "HE WANTS YOU TO BE HIS NEW YEAR'S KISS".

Your head is screaming in fear - "HE IS TOYING WITH YOU. RUN."

You gulp again. Mingyu has the softest smile on his face.

"Mingyu, don't play with my heart." Your voice is barely audible but you know Mingyu heard you. The smile on his face illuminates his eyes.

"Would never dream of it." He says in a deep and soft tone.

"5 SECONDS", a voice travels from the living room.

"Is this real, Gyu?" Your heart is beating in your eyes and you are staring deep into his.

He is now holding your face in both of his palms and your back is pressed on the kitchen counter.

"3 SECONDS!"

"As real our beating hearts, Y/N."

You believe him. Your heart believes him. Your brain has shut the fuck up for once.

"2 SECONDS GUYS!"

"So... can I kiss you ?" Mingyu's expression is now clouded with worry and you smile from your heart.

"1 SECOND!"

You nod quickly and right as everyone from the living room is yelling Mingyu's lips come crashing on yours.

It is everything you imagined, and so much more. His lips move against yours slowly. Both of you are smiling into the kiss. Neither of you is in a hurry at that moment, He is savouring you and you are melting into him.

After what feels like an eternity, both of you break apart for the practical purposes of breathing( who invented that huh?!).

Mingyu's face is still close to yours, lips lightly brushing against each other's.

The living room is bursting with energy and all your friends are there but you couldn't care less about anything at this moment.

"Happy New Year." Mingyu sounds content, his eyes are shining with happiness and his smile is incandescent.

"Happy New Year Gyu."

"I'm never starting a new year any other way after this," Mingyu says and you laugh. "Or any day for that matter." He states as he wraps his arms around your waist now.

God, you could get used to this!

"Oh wow, loverboy! Slow down... we still need to talk about things." You remind him because you have always been the one to bring all the anxiety and sense into this relationship.

"Hmm yeah, but a kiss first?" He asks in his signature puppy-Mingyu face. As you're about to lean in you see Sam enter the kitchen from the corner of your vision. She is startled at first and then breaks into the biggest smile as she leaves the two of you alone.

Your smile widens as Mingyu captures your lips once again.

It's been 5 minutes but this is already turning out to be your favourite year ever!

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bossbtch1 · 6 months

Text

Against All Odds part 3 (Final)

Summary : Bucky's betrayal left you deeply wounded, you sought revenge to make him feel the pain he caused. Following your act of retaliation, you distanced yourself from him despite his numerous attempts to apologize. Instead, you found comfort in Sam, and Bucky couldn't ignore the growing closeness, leaving him seething with jealousy.

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x Reader (No mentions of body type or ethnicity other than the reader being female)

General tags : Smut and Groveling

TW: NSFW, 18+, Strong language, Hurt, Comfort, Groveling, Jealous!Bucky, Unprotected Sex, P in V, Hair pulling, Light Spanking, Breeding kink, Overstimulation

Word Count: 14,5k (So yeah... I'm sorry it has to be this long)

A/N : We've reached the end of the story, and I appreciate your enthusiasm and support for this chapter. Apologies if it turned out to be a lengthy fic; I contemplated splitting it into two chapters but couldn't bring myself to do that to you all.

P.S. I'm trying something new with hyperlinks to provide visualizations for certain scenes. I initially wanted to include them for the smut as well, but it didn't align with Tumblr guidelines, so I kept it PG. Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy the finale!

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

A week after that when you were running in the treadmill, you saw Bucky trying to approach you. You ignored him and ran faster. "Y/N... Y/N, please! Let me apologize." Bucky's voice could be heard, but it was drowned out by the music in your ears.

You just kept running. You knew Bucky was trying to apologize. "Can't hear you, music too loud!" You yelled.

He didn't give up and said, "Please just give me 5 minutes.”

"I'm busy.”

"Just five minutes. That's all I ask for."

"No." You pressed a button, and the speed of the treadmill increased. You kept running.

He tried one last time, "Please. Just five minutes."

You ignored him. He got the message.

He stood there, watching you run. You were not paying any attention to him, or even acknowledging his presence. The look on his face was pure sadness. He was not going to give up though. Bucky waited until you finished your run, and then asked, "Hey…”

You ignored him and went out. He followed you.

"Y/N. Wait." He said chasing you before you got into the shower, "Doll. I'm sorry. I fucked up big time. I really am. I was stupid. I wasn't thinking."

You didn’t care, you ignored him and went to the shower, hoping he would leave after you taking a shower, but of course he was waiting for you.

When you got out, he was sitting on the couch. You went out there with nothing but a towel on. "Y/N what are you doing? You're going to get cold." He said.

You rolled your eyes, "What do you think I'm doing, Barnes? I just took a shower. Is there a problem with that?"

He shook his head. "No, but you shouldn't be wearing a towel. You should be dressed. You're going catch a cold." He then averted his eyes from your body and stared at the floor.

"I thought you said I looked good without clothes, Barnes." You smirked. "Is there something wrong?"

He shook his head. "Y/N, put some clothes on."

You then walked toward him and sat on his lap, "Y/N what-"

You cut him off by kissing him passionately. His eyes widened in shock, and then closed as he kissed you back. He was confused as you broke the kiss. You then dropped the towel, exposing your naked body to him. He stared at your breast for a second, before looking into your eyes.

"Y/N," he began to speak but stopped. He was stunned, "Y/N what are you doing right now? Why did you take the towel off?"

"Don't you like me naked? Do you not find me attractive, Bucky?" You asked him with a pouty lip.

"Yes. You're very attractive. Of course. But... We shouldn't."

"Why not? We had sex before, why not now?"

"Because... That was before. But now you are angry at me. I'm not going to do that again. I won't take advantage of you. It's not right."

"Don't worry about it Bucky." You got closer to him, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Come on Bucky. I want you. Don't you want me?” You said, moving closer until your lips were inches apart.

He swallowed hard, staring into your eyes. "You're not in your right mind. You're not thinking straight.” He could feel himself getting hard. His resolve was breaking. "Doll, please. You know I want you, but I need to know that are we good? I can't have you and leave. It would kill me."

You smirked at him, "We are good." You said seductively, "For now." You whispered, biting his earlobe gently.

He groaned as his cock hardened at your words. "Doll…” He swallowed hard, looking into your eyes.

"Are you going to give me what I want?" You asked.

"If... If that's what you want. Then, yes."

"Then prove it to me. Kiss me."

He hesitated, but leaned forward and kissed you. His lips were soft and warm. You deepened the kiss, moaning softly as you felt his tongue slip between your parted lips. Your hands moved to his shirt, pulling it off. You threw his shirt on the floor and your hands found their way to his belt. You undid his pants and pulled them down, letting his dick spring out.

You reached for his cock and stroked him slowly. He moaned, bucking his hips forward. "Fuck, doll." He breathed.

"You like that, Buck?" You asked.

He nodded. "Yes, so much."

You then positioned yourself above his cock. "You want this?" You teased him, rubbing his cock against your entrance.

"Fuck, doll." He groaned. "I want this."

You smirked. You then sink down on him slowly, taking in every inch of him. He grunted, his hands gripping your hips tightly. "Oh fuck. That's it. Fuck. You feel so good, doll."

You rode him, grinding your hips. "Oh, god." You moaned. He started to thrust into you, groaning. You rode him, picking up the pace. You started riding him as fast as you could. He grunted, his grip on your hips tightening. He started thrusting in and out of you, faster and harder. You were also meeting his thrusts, moaning and whimpering. You pulled his hair, making him moan loudly.

He hit your sweet spot and you were screaming his name. He kept hitting your g-spot. You were getting close. He kept thrusting, faster and harder.

"Fuck, doll. You're so fucking tight. I love how your pussy clenches around me. You're so hot." He pulled your head toward him to kissed you but you denied his lips. You threw your head back, moaning loudly.

"Oh, fuck! Yes! Oh my god!" You screamed, riding him faster. "I'm close. So close."

He reached between your legs, rubbing your clit. You were on the edge, and you needed just a little more to push you over. He rubbed your clit, faster and faster. "Bucky, I'm gonna come!" You cried out.

"Yes, come on my cock. Come for me."

And you came, screaming his name. Your orgasm triggered his. He came, shooting his load inside you. He grunted, thrusting hard. "Holy fuck." He moaned, still thrusting. "You're amazing."

You collapsed onto his chest, panting, wrapping his arms around your waist. Then after you caught your breath, you unwrapped his arms from you and got off him. You rolled your eyes and he was confused. "You didn't let me kiss you earlier, what happened doll? Are you mad at me or something? Did I do something wrong?" he asked, pulling on his boxers and sitting up.

You ignored his questions and stood up, reaching for your scattered clothes. "Y/N, what's wrong?" he pressed, his tone laced with worry.

You smirked at him, "Thanks for that, I needed it." You had taken revenge on using him.

Bucky stood there, stunned and feeling utterly foolish. He couldn't believe he had allowed you to manipulate him like that. "You said we're good..." he protested weakly, his voice filled with hurt and confusion.

Your response was cold and calculated, "Yeah, I said 'we're good for now,' which was then and not right now. So, I got what I needed from you." You didn't spare him a glance as you began to dress, your movements swift. "We're done here." You made a move to leave, but Bucky seized your arms, his grip tight and desperate.

"You're not leaving this room, not until you tell me why the hell you just did that." His eyes pleaded for an explanation, the hurt etched in his features tearing at your resolve. For a fleeting moment, a pang of guilt flickered within you, but you swiftly brushed it aside. "Y/N, stop. You can't just use me for sex," he implored.

A bitter laugh escaped your lips as you met his gaze head-on. "I can, and I did. Now, let go of me," you retorted, pushing him away with unyielding determination.

His eyes were now full of anger and disbelief. "So all this time, you were just acting? Pretending to be okay with me? Pretending that you've forgiven me? All this time, you didn't actually forgive me?!"

"Ha! Please, when did I said I forgive you? What do you think I am? A fool? You don't get to act like the victim here. It's your fault!” You yelled at him.

"You don't think I know that?! I fucked up, Y/N. I made a mistake and I'm sorry.” Running his hand through his hair. “What the fuck!"

"What do you mean 'what the fuck'? It's what you did to me! You fucked me and threw me out. What's wrong with me doing the same to you?" You scoffed, crossing your arms.

"You can't do that, Y/N…"

"I can't do that? I can't do the exact thing you did to me? That's rich, Barnes." He stayed quiet. He didn't have anything to say because he knew you were right.

"How does it feel, Barnes? Fucking hurt, doesn't it?" You said staring at his face. You wanted him to hurt just like how you did, you wanted to hurt him. He flinched, his jaw clenching. You were glad he was in pain, it gave you satisfaction. You wanted him to suffer.

He stared at you, his blue eyes filled with pain. You ignored it and started walking toward the door.

"Wait! Y/N please. Don't go. Stay." He pleaded as he grabbed your arm, "I... I was a jerk. I was scared and stupid. And... I was a fool, I don't want this to be over…” He said while looking into your eyes with his blue orbs. “Please, Y/N, just let me fix this…”

"I wish it were that simple. But it's not. It's too late. I guess we were doomed from the start." You said and ripped your arm from his grasp. “You don't get to hold me anymore. Don't ever come near me again. I mean it." You said sternly.

He stood there, tears welling up in his eyes, helpless and uncertain, fully aware that he had messed up beyond repair.

You couldn't stand the sight of Bucky, it broke your heart as much you hate to admit it. It took all your self-control not to run into his arms and hug him. But you had to stand your ground, he hurt you and you had to show him how much it affected you.

You turned around and walked away, then you heard glass shattering behind you. You didn't have to look back to know that the mirror had broken. Bucky had punched the mirror in his anger and frustration.

You walked out of the door, slamming it behind you.

And with that, you left him standing there, alone and broken.

Couple weeks after that you avoided Bucky like a plague. You were trying to forget about him and move on with your life. You never look at him and whenever he was near you, you would use every excuse to walk away or leave the room. If you were stuck in a situation where you had to interact with him, you kept it professional and didn't engage in any unnecessary conversation. Your relationship with Bucky had always been strained right from the beginning, making it no surprise to the other Avengers. So, your growing distance and avoidance tactics went unnoticed.

Bucky was trying his best to keep his distance from you, far enough so you would be comfortable but close enough so he could make sure that you were safe. You knew he was still trying to apologize and fix things with you. You didn't understand why he was doing this, his words, his touch, the way he's looking at you. You didn't need his apology, didn't want his sympathy. You didn't need him. Not now.

Every time he saw you, he would always try to catch your eye, but you never looked back. It was a little hard at first, since he had to see you almost every day, but as time went by, you guys had less interaction because of missions.

Now you were allowed back into the mission field and you were craving it. It took your mind off Bucky and it helped you forget about him.

You didn't need him in your life.

You wanted nothing to do with him.

But he wanted everything to do with you.

He was desperate.

You had no room in your life for someone who couldn't decide where you stood. The push and pull was exhausting, the mixed signals maddening. You also have gotten your revenge, you should feel satisfied. But you weren't. Why weren't you happy?

After awhile you were back on your normal self and started to move on, not because you stopped caring, but you didn't feel the constant heartache anymore. You could think about Bucky and not start crying or break into a cold sweat.

Meanwhile, Wanda shared the news that the gifts for Vision had been a success. While you were genuinely happy for them, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy deep down.

One day after a long mission, you were watching TV in the common area when you saw the three musketeers walking towards you. They were laughing and talking. You paid them no attention and just kept watching TV.

Sam was the first to greet you, his friendly smile easing some of the tension within you. "Fancy seeing you here, YN. It's been a while." He settled down beside you, and you scooted over to give him more space, returning his smile.

You smiled, it had been awhile since you saw them, you were actually starting to miss him. You knew it wasn’t their fault what happened between you and Bucky, so you didn't treat him differently.

You were glad to see Sam again, he was the only one that was acting the same around you. Bucky looked over at your direction, and when you saw him you looked away from him.

"Yeah. Been going on missions with Nat." You replied, attempting to keep the conversation casual.

Sam leaned in a bit, "How's that going for you?"

"Really well. I'm learning a lot. Nat is amazing. She taught me some of those moves too. Not as great as hers, but good enough to defend myself," you responded, appreciating the opportunity to share a positive aspect of your life.

"Nice." Sam smiled.

Taking a seat on the chair next to the couch, Steve turned to you with a warm smile. "How are you holding up, Y/N?" Steve asked, you knew he was asking about your emotional well-being.

"Fine," you gave him a little smile.

The room descended into awkward silence. The three men were making an effort to engage in conversation, but your discomfort hung heavy in the air. You didn't want to be mean or rude to them; after all, they had done nothing wrong. But being around Bucky felt almost unbearable, a constant reminder of a painful past.

“We're here for you. If you ever feel like talking, we're all ears." Steve offered gently. "If you want to talk about it, of course. If not, that’s totally fine too."

Bucky tried to intervene, sensing that you were about to share something he might not want to hear. "Steve, don't—"

You felt a surge of frustration, and despite Bucky's warning, you decided to share your pain, partly to hurt him back. "Well, there was this one person," you began.

"Well, there was this one person..” You started, cutting Bucky off. You decided to share your pain, partly to hurt him back, staring at Bucky.

Bucky clenched his jaw and averted his gaze. You saw a flicker of pain in his eyes.

Sam chimed in, "There's always someone.”

"Okay, the truth is that I met a guy." You rolled your eyes, trying to mask your vulnerability with a dismissive tone. "It turns out, he wasn’t the person I thought he was. I thought he liked me, and, well…"

Sam prodded, "Well what?"

"He didn't like me. It was all a joke to him." You paused for dramatic effect, locking eyes with Bucky. "The guy was so cold-hearted, he even admitted that he used me, that I was just a mistake." Your words were pointed, meant to hurt, and your gaze bore into Bucky as you sought to inflict the same pain, he had caused you.

Sam was visibly uncomfortable. Steve's face fell. Bucky stared at the floor, his fists clenched.

"Oh. That's... that's unfortunate. I'm sorry. Are you alright?" Steve asked gently, concern etched in his voice.

"Yes. I'll be fine. It's not the end of the world. I mean, it hurts. But I'll live." You answered.

Sam's expression twisted into a mix of anger and empathy. "That's beyond messed up. If I were there, I would beat him up."

"Yeah," you replied, your tone bitter. "But, don’t worry I already paid him back.”

Bucky looked guilty, his expression mirroring the remorse he felt. He shifted uncomfortably, his gaze dropping to the floor. He stayed silent, stayed silent, fully aware of the pain he had inadvertently caused you.

“Nice! This is why I like you, Y/N!” Sam nodded in understanding. "So, what's your plan now?"

"Moving on," you replied, your voice steady. "I don't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing me sad."

"Good call," Sam said, his tone filled with assurance. "You're amazing, Y/N. Whoever ends up with you will be incredibly lucky. He doesn't deserve your attention. And here's the best part: when you find someone better and move on, he'll be left regretting ever hurting you. That, my friend, is the sweetest revenge."

You nodded, touched by his supportive words. "Thanks, Sam. You're the best."

The atmosphere gradually shifted back to normal as you grabbed a beer to pregame before Tony's party. However, you kept avoiding Bucky's gaze, your responses becoming short and distant.

While Steve was talking with Bucky, Sam leaned closer, his voice low as he whispered into your ear, "Maybe what you ordered worked after all."

You pulled away from him, narrowing your eyes in confusion. "What do you mean?"

Sam smirked knowingly, "You know what I mean," he whispered back, his tone playful and suggestive.

"No, I don't." Your confusion deepened, genuinely puzzled by his words. You hadn't ordered anything, so what was he talking about?

The realization struck you suddenly, and you smacked his thigh in disbelief. "You did not!" The shock in your voice echoed around the room, leaving everyone stunned by your reaction.

Sam laughed heartily, "What? What did I do?" He feigned innocence, grinning mischievously.

"Come on, Sam, stop teasing her," Steve chimed in, giving Sam an amused yet admonishing look.

"I swear, man, I wasn't," Sam protested with a chuckle.

Natasha, always one to read between the lines, chimed in, appearing out of nowhere. "We all know you enjoy teasing the girl."

Sam looked genuinely surprised. "Damn, Nat, can you please not sneak up on me? I almost had a heart attack."

Natasha simply smirked, her response dripping with amusement. "You'll be fine." Her nonchalant remark only fueled the laughter in the room, leaving you momentarily flustered.

You were about to press Sam with more questions, but he managed to divert the conversation, addressing Natasha instead. "When's the party starting, Nat?" His timing seemed convenient, clearly trying to avoid further interrogation.

Natasha checked at her watch and then back at the group, "In about an hour or so, but I need to go now. I have some things to finish."

Ever the gentleman, Sam promptly stood up. "I'll help you, Nat," he offered, his tone earnest.

"That's sweet of you, Sam. Maybe I can find you a girl that likes bird costumes." She joked and the group laughed.

"Funny." Sam said sarcastically, then they walked away.

"Sam!" You called after him, but he continued walking, seemingly ignoring you. Frustration bubbling within, you raised your voice, "Get back here!"

Feeling the heat of embarrassment rise in your cheeks, you huffed in annoyance and sank back into your seat. The room fell into an awkward silence, and you shifted uncomfortably under the watchful gaze of Steve and Bucky.

You met their eyes, "What?" you snapped, but they only exchanged a subtle glance, their expressions unreadable.

Deciding you had had enough, you stood up abruptly. "Alright, I'm going as well. I need to start getting ready," you announced, trying to sound composed despite your frustration.

Bucky made a move to follow you, but Steve quickly caught his arm, holding him back. "No," Steve whispered, his voice barely audible. "Don't, not yet."

Time for the party, it was to celebrate the mission succeed. Tony arrived with Pepper, Wanda, and Vision. Then soon everyone gathered. He was keeping the party small though, only Avengers and close friends. It was a small party though.

In the midst of the party, as people bustled around grabbing food and chatting, you discreetly pulled Sam aside. "Did you know the inside of it?" you whispered.

Sam simply looked at you with a mischievous smile, "Umm no?" Sam teased, his grin widening.

Frustration tugged at you. "Ugh, come on, Sam. Just spill it," you urged.

He chuckled, enjoying your perplexity. "Yes, Y/N, guilty as charged. I was the one who accepted the delivery," he confessed, his tone lighthearted. Your playful annoyance was evident as you lightly hit his chest. "You weren't there. You've been MIA for the past couple of weeks.”

"Oh my god, Sam, you're a dick," you groaned, shaking your head at his antics. "That's rude, you shouldn't snoop around people's packages. It's an invasion of privacy."

"It wasn't on purpose, okay?" Sam defended himself, his grin unyielding. "I can read where it's from, and you don't need to be a genius to guess what's inside. So, yeah, I knew. And you know, it was really interesting to see the stuff you ordered," he teased, clearly enjoying your embarrassment. You just want to dig a hole and bury yourself.

As you both grabbed food together, you shot him a warning glare. "I'm sorry, Y/N. Don't worry, my lips are sealed," he assured, trying to be serious but failing to hide his amusement.

"It better be. If you tell anyone, I will kill you," you growled, half-joking but also dead serious.

"So, any plans with it?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"Sam," you warned him, your cheeks burning with embarrassment.

"Just saying. It's a very interesting device. It has so many settings and functions. It would make things easier," he continued, unable to resist teasing you further. "I'm sure it would come in handy," Sam chuckled, taking a bite of his food.

Your eyes widened in disbelief, feeling embarrassed. “Shut up," you hissed, wanting to hide and disappear, not knowing what else to say.

“Any guy would love it. If you know what I mean," he added, nudging you playfully and making you blush even more.

"You are making me uncomfortable," you whined, pouting like a child. "I am not talking to you anymore," you mumbled.

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry," he said, holding up his hands in surrender. “It's perfectly normal. Don't be shy," he said, his words meant to be comforting but the smug smirk on his face was anything but. You groaned, wishing the earth would swallow you up right then and there. Dropping your face in your hands, hiding behind them.

“How did you know it was for me? I could've bought it as a present for a friend or family. And, you can't just accept someone else's package."

"Because you wrote your name on it," Sam pointed out, his expression playful. "You could've used a random name if it was meant to be a secret. And come on, I was the only one there. What was I supposed to tell the delivery guy? 'Hey, this package isn't mine, can you go back to the warehouse, please?'"

Taking a bite of your food, you couldn't help but chuckle at his logic. He had a way of making even the most awkward situations seem amusing.

Sam chuckled, taking a sip of his drink. "So, you bought sex toys and lingerie as a present?"

You were about to answer him when Tony dinked the glass and said, "Hello everyone, thanks for coming here." He paused as everyone clapped. "Let's raise our glasses for all of us, may we have a great year." Everyone raised their glass and cheered.

Before everyone drink, Tony stopped us "Not you kid." He pointed at Peter, "You're not allowed to have alcohol, go drink some soda."

"Aww come on, Mr. Stark. I’m not a kid anymore." Peter protested, attempting to sound mature.

"No, and don't complain or I'll kick you out."

“Fine.” Peter rolled his eyes but left to grab a soda.

You smiled as you saw Pepper leaning against Tony's side. They looked happy. You couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy at their public display of affection. You wanted that with Bucky. You sighed, looking down at the drink in your hand.

You were sitting between Sam and Bruce. Bruce was quiet most of the time and Sam kept talking to you and Bruce. You had fun and the food was great. You didn't really drink that much, you just had two or three drinks.

Across from you, Bucky's glances were hard to ignore. His expression was far from cheerful, but you relished in his irritation. Seizing the opportunity, you continued to emphasize your closeness with Sam, subtly trying to provoke Bucky.

Sam tapped you and leaned in again to whispered, "You still haven't answered my question."

You shot him a playful grin. "Didn't know you were so curious, Sam. Besides, I don't feel obligated to reveal my secrets."

"Touché, Y/N, touché," Sam replied, a smirk playing on his lips. " But come on, humor a man, will you?"

"Alright, how about this? I bought it for a friend," you responded casually. “They're just really shy about it."

Sam raised an eyebrow, a teasing glint in his eye, "Oh yeah, and does this friend have a name?"

"They do, but I don't have to tell you everything," you said with a smile.

Sam nodded, and smiled back, "You're right, you don't." You saw Bucky sat in front of you, looking like he was about to kill someone. You smirked on the inside, knowing it was working. "I'll tell you something though, they're pretty lucky to have a friend like you."

"Well, I am the best." You winked at Sam.

He was going to say something when the two of you were interrupted. "I need to talk to you," Bucky growled at Sam.

"I'm in the middle of a conversation, can't it wait?"

"No," Bucky responded, glaring at him.

You knew Bucky was jealous, you could tell by the look in his eyes, and you liked it. You smirked, "Yeah, Barnes. Don't be rude, you're interrupting us."

Bucky looked at you, and he could tell by the look in your eye, that you knew what you were doing, and were enjoying it. He clenched his jaw and staring at you.

Sam smiled, "It's fine, I have to use the bathroom anyway. Talk to you later?"

You nod, smiling at him, "Sure thing, Sam."

He got up, and you watched as he and Bucky walked to the other side of the room, talking quietly. You wished you knew what they were saying, but you had a feeling that it was about you.

"That was interesting," Wanda said, making you look at her.

"What do you mean? It was nothing."

She smirked, "You're an awful liar, and I can tell when you're trying to make a certain someone jealous."

"Is it that obvious?"

"Just a bit." Wanda smiled. "But he deserved it, he was being a dick to you, so you can have a little fun."

"Exactly."

"But remember, don't let it go too far."

You nodded, looking back at them. They were still talking, but Sam had his back to you, so you couldn't see his expression. Then he turned around and walked back towards you.

"Hey, I gotta go. Thanks for the chat, I'll talk to you later."

You smiled and said, "Oh where are you going? We could hang out more."

"I have work to do."

"On a Saturday?"

"Yes, the glamorous life of an Avenger," Sam quipped.

You sighed dramatically, a playful pout forming on your lips. "Fine, have fun saving the world."

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do." Sam winked at you.

You scoffed, "Please, I’m not a child."

"Whatever you say," Sam said, laughing as he walked away.

Rolling your eyes, you let out a sigh, focusing on your drink. It was clear that Bucky had a hand in this – he was the only one with any issue against Sam. But it seemed to work, because as soon as you started talking to Sam, you could see the anger in Bucky's eyes. You ignored him.

As the night wore on, the music grew louder, and the crowds began to dance. It was a great party. You were sitting at the bar, drinking a glass of whiskey. You didn't feel like dancing or partying, you didn't have the energy to do it.

You turned around and caught a glimpse of Steve and Bruce dancing with Wanda and Natasha. Then Bucky came beside you, his eyes focused on something. He was leaning against the counter, his back to you. A sigh escaped your lips, and you rolled your eyes discreetly, wondering why he continued to linger around you.

He finally glanced over his shoulder, his blue eyes meeting yours, and he offered you a small smile. Just as you contemplated leaving, Bucky spoke up, "I see you're getting comfortable with Sam."

Not in the mood for an argument, you nonchalantly shrugged and responded, "He's a good friend."

Bucky's voice lowered, and he muttered, "A little too friendly, don't you think?"

You met his intensity with a nonchalant attitude, taking another sip of your whiskey. "So?"

"What do you mean, 'so'?" Bucky's frown deepened. "Can't you see? He's flirting with you and you flirted back. He’s all over you."

"And?"

"Why would you do that?!" He asked.

"I believe that's none of your concern, Barnes." You continued to sip your drink, maintaining your composure.

"I care about you," Bucky said quietly.

You snorted, turning your attention back to your glass.

Bucky shifted in his seat, turning to face you. He placed his hand on top of yours, causing you to flinch. "I mean it, Y/N. And Sam is my friend.”

Then you raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Am I not allowed to be friends with him? I don't have any problem with him."

Bucky's jaw clenched, his frustration boiling over, "Look, Y/N. You and Sam are getting very close. Friends don't do that. Do you know how he looked at you?"

A mischievous glint lit up your eyes as you prodded, "Oh, how is it? Tell me."

"Like he's about to jump you anytime," Bucky replied, his tone tense with disapproval.

"Is that a bad thing, Barnes?" you teased, your smile intentionally provocative, knowing it irked him.

"Of course, it is," Bucky snapped, his patience wearing thin.

You couldn't help but chuckle, finding his jealousy rather entertaining. As Bucky's patience wore thin, he snapped, "This is no laughing matter."

"Sure it is," you retorted, your voice light and teasing. "Why even care? You made it clear that it was just a heat-of-the-moment thing. So, perhaps I’ll fuck him next. It seems like he's interested." Casually, you finished your drink and set the empty glass on the counter. "Thanks for the heads-up." You turned to leave, but his hand shot out to your wrist, stopping you from getting up. Your gaze flickered between the metal hand and his eyes.

"The fuck you won’t." Bucky's voice was low, his expression hard, his jaw clenched tightly. “If he touches you, I’ll break his arm."

Instantly, you yanked your hand away, your eyes narrowing in defiance. "Don't touch me," you warned, your voice sharp with anger, setting a clear boundary against his possessiveness.

Bucky's blue eyes flashed with anger, his fists clenched at his sides. "Don’t fucking touch him. Or anyone.” He leaned closer to you, your body tense. “Because, I'm the only one who should touch you," he growled, his voice low and dangerous.

You met his glare head-on. "And why would I do that? So you can break my heart again? No thanks. I'm not a toy that you can play with, and discard when you're bored.”

Bucky clenched his jaw, and grabbed your arms, pushing you against the counter. "No, I don't want to see you with him. You're mine."

With an exasperated sigh, you held his gaze, your patience wearing thin. You didn't want to continue this game of emotional tug-of-war. "Let me remind you, Barnes," you said, your voice steady but firm, "Last I check, we're not boyfriend and girlfriend. You made it very fucking clear that I was a mistake and you used me.”

You attempted to leave, but Bucky's grip on your arm tightened, pulling you closer. His touch sent an electric jolt through you, "Last I check, you belong to me when you were begging and squirming as I fucked you, doll. I can make you forget him, I can fuck you better than him. I'll show you how a man fucks his woman, doll."

His words sent a shiver down your spine and you could feel your core pulsed. Goddamn it, why did he have this effect on you. Despite the undeniable physical reaction, you mentally reinforced your resolve.

“Nope. I learned my lesson. And did you forget about what I said to you? Don’t go near me," you replied nonchalantly. "Now if you'll excuse me." You tugged at your hand, wanting to break free, but he held fast.

He held your hand and pulled you back to him. "No," he said simply.

"Yeah, well, I'm done taking orders from you," you shot back, refusing to back down, though your heart raced in your chest.

"I'm not letting you be with him, Y/N," Bucky asserted, his voice low and possessive.

"That decision isn't yours to make," you declared, avoiding his gaze, aware that meeting his eyes might shatter your resolve.

"Why? What's the problem, Y/N?" he pressed, his frustration evident.

"Are you seriously asking me that?” You glared at him, “YOU'RE THE PROBLEM! YOU ARE THE FUCKING PROBLEM BUCKY!" You yelled and his grip loosened, and you pulled away from him. You didn't care that the room had fallen silent, with everyone's attention now focused on your heated exchange. Unfazed by the sudden silence, you continued, "I'm tired of your excuses, your indecision, and your damn games. It's always one step forward and two steps back with you. I told you I’m done!"

"So you're done with me, and now you have Sam, so you'll follow him around?" Bucky's words were laced with bitterness and jealousy. "Who's next, huh? Steve? He's Captain America; you should fuck at him instead, climb him like a tree. Or better yet, maybe you can do all of us. Let us have a go."

Regret instantly washed over him as he realized how hurtful his words had been. "I'm really sorry," he began, "I didn't mean—"

But it was too late. Your anger boiled over, and without thinking, your hand flew across his face, the sharp sound of the slap echoing in the room. "What did I do for you to treat me like this?" you demanded.

"Is it because I joined the team because of my connection with Fury?" Your tone cut through the air like a razor. "I worked for this for years. I’ve fought, bled, sacrificed, and pushed myself to the limits, all to be an Avenger. I earned my place, damn it. Do I not deserve it? Why are you punishing me? Fucking tell me!”

You were beyond caring about the eyes fixed on the unfolding drama. 'Let them gossip,' you thought bitterly, your focus solely on the man before you.

“Sorry that life was hard on you, but don’t make it hard for anyone else either," you continued, "No, you know what? I'm not sorry. Life is shit sometimes, and that's just how it is. You have a right to be upset and have feelings, Barnes. But the way you treat people, the way you treat me like trash, that's not okay. It's not fair, and I won't stand for it any longer."

His jaw tensed, and for a moment, it seemed like he wanted to say something. But you didn't give him the chance. "Oh, my bad. Feeling is a foreign word to you, right? Maybe they died when you fell off that train in the '40s."

He could only watch as tears welled up in your eyes, as his mouth moved but no words came out. He was speechless. He couldn't say anything, only guilt was evident on his face.

"Or maybe you forgot how they work. Since you been the Winter Soldier for so long, your emotions are a bit rusty. How does one even deal with feelings and shit when they're programmed to not have them? When they're forced to kill, hurt, and torture innocent people.”

Your tone was merciless, and you instantly regretted your words as you saw the hurt flash across Bucky's face. But you couldn’t stop, the dam had burst, unable to halt the torrent of pent-up frustration.

“They turn you into a weapon. Is that who you are, Barnes? A weapon, a monster without a soul. You've lost all your feelings, all that remains is a cold-blooded, heartless killer. The Winter fucking Soldier.” Your words spat out.

His jaw clenched, and his hands formed fists, his usual rage replaced by a profound sadness. "You’re right… I'm nothing but a monster..."

Steve stepped forward, trying to mediate the escalating tension. "Come on, guys, let's all just take a moment to cool down," Steve said, attempting to diffuse the situation.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his predictable attempt to intervene between you both. "Oh, no, Steve, there's no need to cool down," you retorted, "because there's no fire, except for the flames of my rage. Your best friend here is the one who started the fire."

"Y/N-" Bucky tried to say something, but his words trailed off, lost in the thickness of the charged atmosphere.

“I thought there was more to you than just the Winter Soldier, but every time I see you, you prove me wrong." But your fury was uncontainable, and you turned to face Bucky again, your eyes ablaze with righteous anger. "Stay the fuck away from me, Barnes. Don't come near me. Don't talk to me. Don't even fucking look at me."

Feeling the weight of your anger and frustration, you turned abruptly and rushed towards the exit. You were done, utterly fed up, unable to bear it any longer. Unbeknownst to you, tears slipped down your cheeks. With a swift motion, you wiped away the tears, refusing to let them further betray your vulnerability.

As you strode through the streets, lost in your thoughts, you found your mind drifting back to a time when Bucky had attempted to apologize. You were still so mad at him for what he'd done, you were not going to forgive him any time soon.

One night, you were sitting on the sofa in the common room, trying to focus on your book, when the door opened. You saw Bucky coming in and he stopped dead on his tracks when he saw you. You immediately got up, wanting to leave before things got bad.

But, of course, Bucky couldn't keep his mouth shut. "Hey, doll, how are you?"

You didn't answer, grabbing your book and trying to walk away.

He followed you, "Doll, can we talk?"

You were already walking down the hall when he said that, "I don't have anything to say."

"Then just listen, please." Bucky almost begged,

You stopped, sighing and rolling your eyes. You turned around, and crossed your arms, not wanting him to come near you. "I don't have to." You walked faster to your room.

"Please I'll do anything, just let me apologize, I'm begging you!" Bucky was following you still,

You turned around, "Why would I want you to do anything with you? Just leave me alone." You said, turning around and continuing walking.

"C'mon, Doll, I know you hate me, but let me apologize and explain myself.” Bucky said,

You didn't even bother looking at him and kept walking faster.

"Doll, just please," Bucky was starting to get desperate.

You got into your room and locked the door. He knocked couple of times but you ignored him. You put on your headphone and blasted the music. You could hear Bucky banging the door. You were ignoring him until he didn't go away. You turned the volumes up to a deafening level and tried to drown out his voice.

The memory dissolved abruptly as you felt a hand on your wrist, your reflexes primed for confrontation. You whipped around, ready to hit the person behind you, but the person behind you caught your fist. Your eyes flashed with anger.

"What the fuck do you want? Why are you still following me?" you seethed, your voice dripping with contempt. "Fuck off. You're the last person I want to see right now."

Bucky tightened his grip on your wrist, his eyes pleading with sincerity. "I'm so sorry. I know that's not enough, and it doesn't make it better, but I need you to understand how truly sorry I am. I can't bear the thought of losing you."

You scoffed, "Yeah, sure. Tell that to someone else.” you retorted, your tone laced with bitterness. "I'm sick of hearing apologies." You attempted to pull away, but he held firm.

"I meant it, Y/N." Bucky insisted, his voice earnest. "I'm telling the truth. I'm an idiot, and I made a stupid decision. I'm trying my best to make up for it."

"Go," you demanded, your voice breaking as your frustration boiled over. "I don't want to see you. Just leave me alone."

"Y/N, please…" Bucky persisted, his voice laced with desperation. He walked beside you, oblivious to the curious gazes from passersby. You stared around, people started to recognize him since he was the famous Winter Soldier. Even when he was wearing casual clothes, and not in his Winter Soldier uniform, his metal arm still drew attention.

You walked faster, wanting to get away from him. But he was faster. You didn’t want people to notice that the infamous Winter Soldier was following you, so you stopped. "Just leave me alone!" you yelled, your anger fueling your words.

As soon as you yelled, the bystanders gasped and started whispering amongst themselves. The last thing you needed was more drama and attention toward you. Embarrassment washed over you, and you turned to run, desperate to escape the public scrutiny. Bucky matched your every step. He reached out and grasped your hand, refusing to let you go.

In an attempt to break free, you fought against his hold, muscles straining with the effort. "Let go of me, Buck!" you protested, attempting to wrench yourself away from him. The crowd around you seemed to blur into a background hum as your focus remained solely on Bucky.

"Not until we settle this," he replied, his voice low and intense, his fingers tightening around your arms.

Your glare deepened, frustration boiling over. "There's nothing to settle here, Barnes. Now, let go of me. Before I make you," you warned, your tone sharp with anger and defiance.

A stubborn glint flickered in his eyes. "No." His grip tightened slightly, his jaw clenched with resolve. "Make me, Y/N," he challenged, his voice steady. "I know you're strong, so make me."

In a surge of frustration, you summoned all your strength and pushed against him with all your might. Bucky stumbled backward, losing his balance, and fell to the ground.

You stood over him, your voice laced with defiance. "There," you panted, your chest heaving with emotion, "I did it. I hope you're happy."

Bucky remained silent, but the bystanders, their eyes wide with disbelief, started recording the scene with their phones, capturing the unexpected sight of you standing tall over the fallen Winter Soldier. The urge to smash their phones surged within you, but you resisted, your focus solely on the man at your feet.

"Well, I'm going. You're making a scene,” you declared, taking your first steps away from the growing commotion.

"I just want to talk, doll." He got up.

"And I don’t wanna listen." Yet Bucky, refusing to let you go that easily, got up and followed after you, his footsteps echoing behind you. Your patience wearing thin, you spun around, your eyes ablaze with anger. "Stop following me you creep!"

Having had enough, Bucky seized you and pulled you into a nearby alley. He pinned your arms against the wall, a conflicted look in his eyes. "Let me go," you growled, straining to break free from his firm hold.

"You know that I can't. I won't.” Bucky replied, his voice tinged with remorse.

A surge of panic gripped you, "If you don't, I'll scream." Your threat to scream hanging in the air.

You were about to let out a piercing cry when Bucky swiftly placed his hand over your mouth. "Don't scream. Please," he implored, his eyes pleading with you. "I'm sorry. I don't want to hurt you."

In response, you bit down on his hand, but he didn’t flinch. "I know you're furious. You have every right to be. But I’m truly sorry.” Bucky's words poured out, sincere and raw. "Please just give me time to explain everything."

You maintained your glare, your eyes brimming with tears you refused to shed. And finally, Bucky released his grip on your mouth and hands, taking a step back, giving you room to breathe. His voice softened, carrying the weight of his regret. "Listen to me. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have treated you like that. I'm sorry. I didn't mean it.”

You tried to push him away, but he wouldn't budge, not that it did anything, the metal arm didn't even move. His eyes were begging, and he looked sincere, you wanted to believe him, but you couldn't.

"Go to hell! I hate you!" The dam finally broke, tears spilling over. You felt weak and vulnerable, consumed by anger and hurt. You then hit his chest, "I hate you!" Hit it again, "You're the worst!" Hit it again, "You fucking hurt me!"

You hammered his chest repeatedly to vent out. Bucky stood there, unmoved, letting you vent your rage on him. You were crying hard at this point. You were upset that he saw you like this, looking weak.

Then you felt tired emotionally, you stopped hitting him as you realized what a mess you're becoming. Your hands hurt because you were hitting him too much. He grabbed your wrists, "Doll you are hurting yourself, stop pushing me.. don't hurt yourself."

"You did it first! You hurt me, you broke my heart." You continued pushing him, "let go of me, please." You started crying harder, you couldn't see because of the tears and your head was throbbing.

You dropped down your gaze to the ground not wanting to see his face. You didn't know why he was acting like this, you were so fed up. "I don't want to see your face, Barnes. I can't believe you had the audacity to still show up in front of me. When you know that you're a horrible person who doesn't deserve to be forgiven."

He let go of your arms and you wanted to push him away but you were so tired, so exhausted. He placed his hand beside your head caging you in, you knew he was staring at you. "I know… I'm a monster. I know I didn't deserve you. I'm sorry… for everything."

You stayed silent and just crying, your heart aching at the memories. It was so painful.

"I don't expect you to forgive me, but I just wanted you to know. But I'm so sorry. I didn't mean any of the things I said. I'm the monster, not you. You're everything good and I'm nothing." You continued to stay silent not wanting to give in.

You couldn't hold your emotions in anymore, so you just cried. He wiped your tears from your eyes and you shook your head not wanting him to touch you, you hated it, you hated that he was here. He sighed and removed his hand from your face.

You felt like he deserved it, he hurt you, and you want him to feel the pain. He stepped back a few steps, giving you space. "I'm sorry for hurting you, Doll." He apologized, "I'm a fucking asshole and a coward. I should have never done that."

"Please doll, don't cry… I'm really sorry… I shouldn't say those words. I shouldn't hurt you." You continued to cry, "Tell me what to do to make it stop."

"Just go away, Bucky." Your voice barely whispered.

"Do you really hate me that much, doll?" You nodded at him, "Will it make it better if I go away?"

You stayed silent, this was what you wanted, for him to leave. But why did you feel so hurt? You didn't answer him, you couldn't answer him.

Instead you just sobbed like a mess. "Y/N, please, look at me." You didn't, you were so tired of everything, you couldn't even lift a finger. You felt numb and just sad, it hurt so much.

"Please, doll. I'm a jerk, a horrible person. Tell me what I can do to make it up to you.” He dropped down on his knees looking at you with sad eyes, begging. “Please. I need you. I can't lose you."

You were shocked, the most feared assassin in the world was on his knees, in front of you. He looked at you, and you just shook your head. He was being sincere and genuine, but you couldn't accept it. "I need you, please. Give me a chance, let me make it up to you. I beg of you, don't leave me." He was being sincere and genuine, but you couldn't accept it.

You were looking at him crying, not knowing what to do. There wasn't an excuse, nothing would make this better. You felt your heart break, seeing him like this made your heart ache. You had so much pain inside of you. You just couldn't.

"Bucky, just stop." You tried to made him stand up but he wouldn't. "Get up, this is stupid."

He shook his head, "Not until you give me a chance. I know I don't deserve your forgiveness, I'm not even worthy of looking at you, but please, let me have a chance." He looked up at you with tearful eyes.

"Don't do this. You're making it worse." You said and he grabbed your hand, "If it means I get a chance, then I'm not getting up. Just please, tell me what I can do."

You closed your eyes. This is so wrong, he was so wrong, this is not right. "I can't do this, this is crazy." You closed your eyes tightly and sighed. You were conflicted.

He shook his head and cried, "I didn't know what came over me, I wasn't good at expressing my feelings, I don't know what else to say, except that I'm sorry.”

You scoffed, "And why do you think you have the right to say that, after all the shit you've done?"

He looked at you, and spoke, "Because, I was wrong, and I'm really sorry."

You didn't want to give in but he was looking at you with such an innocent expression, he looked so broken and helpless. "Sorry just doesn't cut it, Barnes.”

He was quiet for a moment, then spoke, "I know I don't, doll. I know I'm a monster. A murderer. I don't have a right to live." He said in between sobs, and you couldn't help but feel pity towards him. "I've given up all my hopes and dreams when I've been in the hydra. But you give me hope, doll. You give me dreams."

His eyes were filled with sadness, tears streaming down his face. "The minute I saw you, you were everything that was right. I didn't know who you were, and I had no idea how I was going to tell Steve, or anyone. I was afraid. So, I tried to stay away, but the more I was away, the more I missed you.”

Your heart beat faster, you felt something in your stomach. You couldn't describe it, you went to knelt in front of him, he didn't dare to meet your gaze. "Bucky, look at me.”

"I don't have the right, doll. I don't deserve to look at you." He said in between his sobs. “I'm a monster. I deserve to die, not to love."

"You are not a monster.” You placed your hand on his cheek, stroking it gently, hoping it would soothe him. “I’m sorry too for hurting you for all the things I said to you...”

He leaned into your touch, placing his hand over yours. "Please, don't apologize. It was all my fault. I caused this, I hurt you." He whispered.

"We both hurt each other, Bucky. We both fucked up.”

He still didn't meet your gaze. You held his chin and forced him to look at you. You cupped his cheeks, he looked so broken. You wiped his tears, and said, "Why did you say those things to me? Why you said I was a mistake? Why did you say you used me? Why Bucky?"

He took a deep breath and said “Because I was afraid that if I got close, I'll just end up hurting you. I always fuck up in the end somehow, look what I did. I'm such a stupid man. I'm an idiot and an asshole." He took your hands from his face, kissing them before placing them back to his cheeks. "I've never felt anything for anyone. I've never loved anyone, never been in love. Not until I met you. When I'm with you, I feel different. When you smiled at me, when you look at me, I feel that I could be a better man. I want to be a better man for you. You make me feel, you make me alive, you made me happy. You showed me a new life. You're everything I could've ever dreamed of. You're perfect and I don't deserve you."

His hand then touched your hand caressing it lightly, "I was really going to confess everything to you that night. I was going to tell you that I like you, and ask you if I can take you out, or if I can have the chance to show you how much you mean to me. That you make my heart beat fast, and how my whole body goes numb, and my skin tingles when I'm around you. I wanted to tell you that I love you, because I'm pretty sure that I do. But, when I was about to do it, I knocked on your door couple of times, but you didn't answer, so I thought that maybe you were already asleep. So I decided to wait until the next day.”

He took a deep breath before he continued. "That morning, I got a message from the victim's family when I killed them as winter soldier. They told me how they wished that I died instead. How they wished that it was me. And they said they had a daughter, and her name was Bianca. They said, she was beautiful and full of life. They said, if it wasn't for me, their daughter wouldn't have been murdered."

Your heart broke at his confession, but you stayed silent, listening to him, you couldn’t speak, not yet.

He confessed as he looked at you, his eyes filled with tears, and you couldn't help but cry too. "I felt so guilty hearing them said that. I was angry because of what I did. I was mad at myself, and I didn't want you to get involved with someone like me. I can't have anyone else get hurt. I don't know what I’ll do if anything happens to you."

You pulled him into a tight hug, and he clung to you. His arms wrapped around your waist. "I wanted to push you away, you deserve someone better. I thought, maybe if I was a jerk, you would stop liking me. But as soon as I realized, I regretted everything.”

You held him tighter, your heart aching for him. He sobbed quietly, burying his face into your neck. “I'm sorry, I didn't know what I was thinking. You were never mine, but losing you broke me. It was so hard for me to keep myself away from you when all I want is to be with you. I know it, and I don't deserve you.”

"It's okay, I'm here." You rubbed his back, trying to calm him down.

He broke the hug and looked at your eyes, "You have every right not to believe me, but please. Give me a chance. One last chance, and if you decide you still hate me, then I'll let you go. But please, please give me a chance to prove myself."

You didn't know what to do. He was broken, and he was begging you for a chance. It was the least you could do. You were conflicted, but your heart won over, you couldn't bear to see him on his knees like this. "Okay, Bucky. But first let's stand up, my legs are killing me."

He pulled you up, his arms encircling your waist, pulling you flush against him. "I won't disappoint you, doll. I promise. I will make it up to you, and if it takes me forever, then I'll do it."

You stood and looked at him, "Bucky, if we're going to do this. You must promise me, no more secrets. We have to be honest to each other. We have to learn to talk about our problems, and we have to try and understand each other. If you have something bothering you, don't push me away. Come and talk to me."

"Okay, I promise." He nodded, "Thank you, doll. For giving me a chance. I won't fail you." He pulled you closer, his hands gripping your hips, his eyes burning with lust.

You looked at him and smiled, he looked back at you and gave you a small smile. "But that doesn't mean I already forgive you. It's going to take some time, but I want us to work on this. Together."

"Yeah, I know. I will beg every minute if it takes.” His hands moved to your hips, holding you firmly in place. You both stood there in silence before he asked, "Doll, what are we now?"

"What do you mean?" You knew what he was asking but you pretended to not know.

"Doll, can I ask you out? Will you be my girl?"

You relished the moment, letting him wait with a playful pause. His nervous anticipation brought a smile to your face. "Yes, if you'll have me."

Bucky sighed in relief, "Finally!" A broad smile adorned his face as he hugged you tightly, lifting you off the ground and spinning you around. Laughter bubbled from within you. "Thank you, doll." He gently set you down, and you both stared at each other.

You then wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into a kiss. He was shocked at first, but soon his arms wrapped around your waist. He kissed back and it was the most passionate kiss ever.

You then wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into a kiss. He was shocked at first, but soon enough, he responded. You moaned into the kiss, your body melting into his embrace, and his arms circled your waist, pulling you closer.

His tongue brushed against your lower lip, asking for entrance. You parted your lips, allowing his tongue to slip inside, tasting your mouth. Your tongue danced with his. His tongue explored every inch of your mouth. His hand found its way into your hair, tugging slightly, eliciting another moan from you. He pulled back and pecked your lips, smiling softly. "You're beautiful, doll."

You blushed and bit your lower lip, a smirk forming on your face. "You're not so bad yourself, sergeant."

He chuckled and shook his head, "You're making me blush, doll."

“Shut up, kiss me again.” You tugged his collar and pulled him closer, your lips colliding in a passionate kiss. You two had a lot to talk about, but that could wait. Right now, you just wanted to stay in his arms. You wanted him.

Bucky then grabbed your ass and lifted you, and you wrapped your legs around his waist. You felt the wall behind you and Bucky placed his metal arm on the wall.

You felt his erection rubbing on your center, and he started grinding his hips into yours. You felt him rub against you and moan into your mouth. "Ahh, Bucky."

You could feel him twitching through his jeans, and his metal hand moved from the wall, to under your shirt. He caressed your stomach and moved his hand upwards. Your heart was pounding, and you were excited.

He stopped the kiss and placed his forehead on yours. “Doll, can I?"

"Yes." You whispered.

His hand cupped your breast, and he groaned. “You drive me crazy, doll." He pinched your nipple between his thumb and finger. You moaned and he placed his other hand down your pants. You felt him pull your pants down, and he slipped his fingers in between your folds.

"Bucky."

"Doll, you're so wet." He groaned, and started to rub your clit. "So beautiful."

His metal hand continued to play with your nipples, and he used his left hand to start rubbing your clit faster. You started to moan louder, and Bucky put his other hand over your mouth.

"Shh, baby, be quiet. I don't want the others hearing." He smirked and removed his hand from your mouth. You bit your lip and his finger started to slide inside you.

"Please Bucky..."

"What do you need, doll?"

"You."

He grinned, "Are you sure? I mean we just made up."

"I'm sure, and plus I've already touched myself thinking of you."

Bucky groaned, "Oh god, that's so fucking hot. Tell me more."

"I was fingering myself and I was thinking about your dick, and how much I needed you. I was thinking of your cock filling me up."

"Oh god, fuck."

"But it wasn't enough, and it would never be enough. I needed your big fat cock to make me cum."

When things got intense, then suddenly you heard something fell down. You both froze and looked around, then Bucky let you go and you were back on your feet.

Then a rat came out, and you and Bucky breathed a sigh of relief. You laughed, and you were blushing.

"Hey, don't laugh." He teased.

"That was a huge ass rat! What was it doing in here?" you exclaimed.

"Welcome to New York, doll. It's a rat haven." he chuckled.

“Ugh, gross." You laughed and shot him a playful glance.

Bucky responded by wrapping his arm around your waist, pulling you in for a kiss. "Shall we continue this somewhere more private?" he suggested with a mischievous grin.

"Thought you won't ask." You said, smiling. You kissed him and bit his bottom lip. He moaned and looked at you and smirked. "Lead the way, Sergeant Barnes."

"Anything for you, doll." He guided you outside the alley, holding your hands. As you walked down the street, you felt a nervous excitement. His hand in yours, palms sweaty, he squeezed your hand and shot a warm smile your way.

You couldn't believe that he was actually holding your hand, and he was being nice. You felt something in the pit of your stomach, a good feeling. The man you have been in love with for two years, the man who is now your boyfriend, and the man who is going to take you back home and make you scream his name.

"Wanda saw us you know in the gym, why did you lie about it?" You looked up to him and he averted his gaze.

Bucky face hardened, he looked annoyed, "She told you that?" You nodded in confirmation. He sighed, a conflicted look in his eyes. "I didn't want you to be embarrassed or feel awkward. I thought it was best to say no one saw us. I guess she's a rat, just like those in the alley," he gritted his teeth, frustration building.

You chuckled, "It was awkward, I mean I got blackmail by her into buying her sex toys." You were giggling but Bucky wasn't.

"She did that to you? I'll talk to her." Bucky's tone indicated he was ready to take matters into his own hands.

"No, no, it's fine. Really," you reassured him, placing a gentle hand on his arm. "Don't be upset. And please, don't have a word with her. It's between me and her."

"Fine, baby. Only because it’s you who asked me.” He said.

You giggled and leaned up and kissed his cheek. Then Bucky called a taxi and opened the door for you. You blushed and thanked him. He climbed inside the car and sat close to you. He put his arm around your shoulders, and you laid your head on his chest.

The whole ride was silent. You noticed this wasn't the way to the compound, "Where are we going, Buck?"

He rubbed his thumb on your bare skin and you relaxed in his arms. "To my place."

"You have a place? But you live in the compound."

"Yeah, I have a place in Brooklyn. Just for me, no one knows about it, except Steve. I wanted some privacy and peace away from everyone. But, now you're going to know where I live, too."

"Oh, okay." You were so comfortable and calm that you fell asleep. You woke up to a gentle touch of a hand, stroking your hair.

"Wake up, doll. We're here." You arrived at your destination.

You lifted your head and looked at him sleepily. He looked at you and chuckled, "How can you be so cute and sexy at the same time, huh?"

You blushed and giggled, "Shut up."

"C'mon."

He took your hand and guided you inside the building. It was really nice, the hallway was bright and had a fresh scent. It was an old building, but it had a modern vibe. He opened the door and let you in.

It was a spacious studio apartment. The living room was open to the kitchen and the bedroom. "Wow this place is amazing."

When you turned around, Bucky immediately kissed you and his hands were cupping your face. You smiled as he kissed you and his tongue slid in. The kiss was hungry and passionate, you felt how much he desired you, you could taste him, smell him. He pushed you against the wall and his thigh was pressed between your legs, rubbing you through the fabric.

His body pressed up against yours. His thigh was pressed between your legs, rubbing you through the fabric. He let go of your hand and you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him even closer. "Mhhh..." Your lips parted and his kisses moved to your neck. You were breathing heavily, moaning his name. His teeth nibbled at the skin and you grabbed his hair.

He moved his hands down your back and cupped your ass, lifting you up. Your legs automatically wrapped around his waist and your arms were on his neck. He carried you to the bedroom, his hands were everywhere and you were moaning into the kiss.

He sat on the bed and you were sitting on his lap. "Let's not stop this time, okay?" He looked into your eyes.

"Yes, yes." God yes, it had been too long since you had his cock inside you and you desperately wanted him.

"Good girl." Bucky started kissing your neck and you moved your hips, trying to grind against him. You let out a moan and held his head, running your hands through his hair.

He started pulling off your clothes and you sat up and took off your shirt. Bucky stopped and was just staring at you. "What are you waiting for?" Your grip tightened around his hair.

"Sorry, just admiring the view." He pulled off his shirt, and then took his pants off. You stared at him, and he was breathtakingly beautiful. His body was chiseled and sculpted like a Greek God, and he was the most beautiful thing you've ever seen.

"Fuck..." You cursed as he unclasped your bra and began sucking on your left nipple and while his metal hand was kneading your right breast. He did the same to the other side. You were a moaning mess under his touch.

"Your breasts are so perfect, doll. Can't get enough of them."

You kissed him again and began grinding your hips against him. He then grabbed your hips and began grinding you back, you felt him getting hard, and you felt like you were going to explode soon. He was breathing heavily, his eyes were dark, lustful.

You then started to take off your panties. "No, leave them on. That's my job." He threw you on the mattress and got on top of you and started sucking and licking your nipples before he went down kissing your body. He was trailing wet kisses to your stomach. He took off your underwear and spread your legs.

Then he was on his knees, he kissed your inner thigh and made you whine. "So impatient, baby."

"Shut up."

He chuckled and then he was kissing the junction of your thighs and hips.

"Bucky, please!"

He smirked and then licked your slit. Your hands went to his hair and he was holding your hips. He was sucking your clit and licking your entrance. You were writhing under his touch. started licking your pussy, eating you out like a starving man.

"Holy shit... Bucky!" You were panting and he was going deeper and deeper. You couldn't think straight anymore. All you could think was his mouth on your pussy. His tongue was working wonders on your cunt. You were moaning his name and tugging his hair.

He inserted a finger and pumped slowly, making you gasp and moan. "Ah, Buck, feels good." Your breath hitched.

"I can feel your tight pussy clenching around my finger, Y/N." He said as he added another finger. You arched your back and whimpered. He sucked your clit and pumped his fingers faster.

His fingers were reaching places that you didn't know existed. He sucked harder and was now fucking you with his fingers. You could feel his metal finger and the vibrations were intense.

He curled his fingers and you arched your back. He was sucking your clit and licking, too. Your legs were shaking and he was holding your hips harder.

"Fuck! Bucky!" You couldn't take it anymore. You were so close. "I'm gonna come."

"Come for me, baby. Come on my face."

"Fuck! Oh god. Bucky!" You screamed as you came on his face. You felt him smile as he licked up all your juices.

When he was done, "That's it, doll. Good girl. Come here." He got on top of you and kissed you. You could taste yourself on his tongue, and it was making you even more horny.

He was kissing your face and lips. "I want to ride you properly now, Bucky."

"God yes, whatever the lady wants." He moved off of you and lied on his back, and you crawled on top of him.

You kissed his chest and his stomach, then you looked into his eyes as you were moving down on him. You were rubbing his cock between your folds. His hands were on your hips, squeezing and digging his nails in.

"Baby, please." You heard him whisper.

"Please, what, Buck?"

"Please, stop teasing me. I need you, now." He was looking at you, and his pupils were so dilated, you could barely see his beautiful blue eyes.

You lined his cock up with your entrance and sank on him, both of you moaning when he was fully inside of you.

"Jesus Christ, doll. You're so tight. And warm."

You put your hands on his chest and started moving up and down on him, slowly at first. He was squeezing your thighs and hips, helping you move.

"Shit! Oh, fuck!" You were bouncing on him now, and he was thrusting up to meet your hips. He was gripping your hips tightly. You started to bounce up and down, and your hands were on his chest. "You feel so good, Buck. You're stretching me out so well."

"Yeah? You're riding me like a champ, baby." He was breathing hard and grunting every time he was slamming into you.

"Ahh, Bucky, yes!" You were biting your lips and throwing your head back, and Bucky was thrusting up.

"Mmm, you like that, sweetheart?"

"Yes! Harder!" You closed your eyes, he felt so good inside you.

"Look at me, baby. Look at me, while I'm fucking you."

You opened your eyes and you were bouncing faster, and he was thrusting his hips faster, too. He was hitting your g-spot and you were getting closer to your orgasm. You were squeezing his biceps. "I've been waiting to fuck you properly since our last time. Couldn't wait to make you scream my name, doll."

"Then do it, make me scream, Buck"

"I will, doll. I promise." You were slamming into each other now, both of you close. You felt his finger touching your clit. "Ahh, you look so pretty when you're riding me, doll. Look at you. So fucking perfect. You're gonna make me cum."

He was looking at you with lust in his eyes. You grabbed his metal arm and sucked on his fingers. You started to suck harder, and you moaned.

He started thrusting harder and faster, the bed was hitting the wall. His hand went to your clit and he started rubbing fast. His other hand kneaded your breasts. You moved even faster and you were getting close, "Buck, you're so good. I'm close."

"I know, I can feel it. You’re doing so good for me, doll. Fuck, doll. Can I come inside you? Please?"

"Yes! Yes, please, come inside me, Buck."

You were screaming his name and digging your nails to his chest. His hand left your breast and was gripping your hips hard. You knew it was going to leave bruises. You were bouncing faster and your orgasm hit you like a truck.

"Oh god, Bucky!" You screamed his name and collapsed on his chest.

"I'm gonna fill your tight pussy up, baby."

"Please, Buck, please."

"FUCK! Y/N! Take it all, baby. Take it." He was filling you up, and you could feel him twitching inside of you.

"Yes! That's it. Fill me up, Buck."

"Jesus." You were both panting and trying to catch your breath. You were resting your head on his chest, and you could hear his heartbeat. He then flipped you over, so you were under him. You felt him that he was still hard, and he was looking at you with a grin. "Can you handle another round, doll? Or are you too tired?"

You smirked and raised your eyebrow. "Are you challenging me, Barnes?"

"Maybe."

"Let's see how long you can keep up, sergeant."

"I can do this all night, doll. How about you?"

"Oh, I'm just getting started."

"Good, 'cause I'm not finished with you yet." He smirked and moved over you.

"You're in for a wild ride, Barnes."

"Bring it on, doll." He pulled your legs and you were in a mating press position, with him towering over you.

"Show me what you've got, soldier."

"Oh, I'll show you." He pulled your legs and you were in a mating press position. He was teasing you with his tip and you were moaning loudly. You were already so sensitive, you were ready to cum again.

"Tell me you want it."

"Yes. I want it! I want you, Bucky."

"Beg me, doll."

"Please. I beg you, please fuck me."

"Who owns you?"

"You do. Only you!"

"Good girl." With that, he entered inside you in a swift motion and buried himself to the hilt and you screamed. "I'm gonna fuck you so hard, and make you forget everything."

He was holding your legs and spreading them more. You were a moaning mess underneath him. He pounded into you so hard, and you were gripping the sheets. Your orgasm was approaching and he was holding your hips hard. You were sure he was going to leave a mark.

"You're not gonna walk after I'm done with you." He was thrusting faster and harder. You were a mess, you were sweating and panting. He was rubbing your clit and pumping into you. He was kissing your neck and you were screaming his name.

Then, he was thrusting fast and rough, and kissing your face. He was nipping your neck and biting. You were leaving marks on his back, and he was gripping your hips.

The way he thrusts his hips, it was like he was a fucking machine. He was a man of his word, and you weren't going to walk tomorrow. He was grunting and groaning and kissing your neck.

He was now pounding so hard into you, and your breasts were bouncing. "You love when I fuck you, don't you?"

"Yes, Bucky. Yes, I do. You're stretching me out so good, Bucky. Don't stop."

"Oh, I'll fuck you until the morning, baby." He was now fucking into your g-spot and his vibranium hand was rubbing your clit.

"Fuck! Bucky, I'm gonna come again!"

"Cum for me, doll. Be a good girl."

"Fuck, Bucky." He gave few more thrusts, and you were seeing stars. You were coming hard and screaming his name.

You were both panting, and Bucky was trying to catch his breath. "Holy shit, doll."

"Yeah, that was amazing."

He lifted his head, and looked at you. "Was? I'm not done, yet."

"What?! Bucky, we can't do it anymore. I already came three times. I can't go again."

"Awww, is my little kitten too sensitive, huh?" He teased you as he lightly slapped your pussy making you yelp.

"Stop it." You said, still sensitive, “Please…”

"Well, we're just getting started. I meant when I said I'm going to fuck you until the sun rises." He flipped you over and he was kissing your back. "Your body is so perfect, baby."

His hands were rubbing and squeezing your ass cheeks. "I want to take you from behind, baby. Can I do that? I want to see that pretty little ass.”

"Mmmmm, fine."

He slapped your ass and you moaned. "Such a good little kitten." He slapped your ass a couple more times, and you moaned. "Now, I'm gonna make you purr like a kitten."

He grabbed a handful of your ass and spread your cheeks. He was teasing you with his tip, and you were pushing your ass against him. "Such a horny kitten, you are." He slowly pushed his cock into you, and you were moaning. He grabbed your hips and started to thrust. He was fucking you slow and deep. But then, he was moving his hips faster.

You were lying on your stomach, and Bucky was pounding into you hard and fast. You were screaming his name. "You're all mine, baby."

He gripped your hair yanking you into pulling you into a kiss. You opened your mouth and his tongue slid in. He explored every inch of your mouth. Your tongues wrestled for dominance, and he won.

"That's it, doll." He was fucking you so hard, he was slapping your ass, and was holding your hips. His dick was hitting all the right spots. You were a moaning mess, you couldn't form words. He was fucking you hard and fast.

The slapping noises were getting louder and the bed was squeaking. His hands started to pinch your nipples making you scream his name, the pleasure was too intense. "I'm close, baby. Let's cum together."

He then continued pounding and you could feel his dick twitch inside. He was grunting and panting. “FUCK, Y/N!” He then came, filling you up. His cum was dripping out of your pussy. He was still inside you, riding out his high.

He pulled out of you but then you noticed he was still hard. "Buck, how are you hard again?!"

He chuckled, "You're the one who made me like this."

You were mesmerized by his stamina but also scared at the same time. He got in between your legs and kissed you passionately. He was kissing down your body and leaving a trail of wet kisses.

“Fuck… Ah… Bucky I can’t… Not anymore.” You were so sensitive and spent, you have came so many times.

"Your moans say otherwise, doll." He grinned as he took his cock and lined it to your entrance and entered you without warning once again. You screamed and gripped his biceps.

He was thrusting his hips faster and hitting your g-spot. You were both moaning loudly, and saying each other's names. "You're taking me so well, sweetheart." You were a sweaty mess and Bucky was gripping your hips.

He was pounding into you and he was so big, it felt like you were being ripped apart. But, you loved the pain. You were scratching his back and leaving marks. You were both leaving bruises on each other's body.

"Fuck, Bucky. Ah, yes!" He was pounding into you and you were moaning loudly.

"That's it, doll. Moan for me."

He was thrusting deeper and harder. Your hands were roaming around his body. You were touching and squeezing every part of him. You cried out as he increased his speed. "Fuck Bucky i can't..." you couldn't come anymore, you were overstimulated.

"Yes you can doll, I know you can." He rubbed your clit faster with now his teeth bit your nipple, “Fucking give it to me, doll.”

You cried out and came all over his cock. "That's my good little kitten." He praised.

But he wasn't done with you yet. You felt so much pleasure and pain, but it felt so good. Bucky thrusted faster and harder, his thrusts were deep. He slammed into you and started thrusting even faster and deeper.

"Shit. Bucky, ahh..." You gasped when his hand found your neck and he squeezed. His grip tightened and he began pounding you harder. You were moaning his name over and over again. You could feel every inch of his thick, long dick, and it was filling you so good.

He then leaned down and was fucking you deep. His metal arm was wrapped around your waist and the other one was choking you. He was sucking and licking your breasts. You were moaning uncontrollably. "Fuck, I'm so close. Let's come together, come to me one more time."

"I can't, Bucky! It's too much." You whimpered. “Please, no more.” You were begging him, you couldn’t take it anymore.

“You can do it doll. Show me what a good girl you are.” He pounded to you faster, his thrusts becoming erratic as he pistoning you in and out.

You were a sweating mess and you couldn't form a coherent sentence. "Holy shit, oh my god, ahhh, fffuck, ahh, ah, mhh, ohh, shit."

You gripped the sheets and screamed his name and you were shaking uncontrollably. Your vision went white and your ears rang. You felt your body go limp. You couldn't move. Your body was overstimulated and tired.

Bucky continued thrusting and you felt him twitch inside you. You both cried out each other's names as you came together. Bucky got off you and laid next to you, pulling you close to him.

You felt so sleepy afterwards, you were spent. He then cleaned you both up before he snuggled with you. "How are you feeling, baby?" He asked.

"Like I can't feel my legs."

He kissed the top of your head and laughed. "Sorry about that, doll."

You chuckled. "Don't apologize. That was the best sex I've ever had."

He held you close and kissed you deeply. You ran your fingers through his hair and he cupped your cheek. As you laid there with him, “I’m sorry Bucky for what I did to you back then on the gym, I took advantage of you… I-“

Bucky stopped you with kissing you. “I know doll, you don’t have to apologize. Like you said, we both hurt each other. Let’s not from now on okay? I promise I’ll be the best version of myself and no more hiding from you.”

You smiled at him, “I would like that.”

Bucky then kissed your forehead, “I love you, Y/N.”

You couldn’t believe your ears, he said it again, “I freaking love you. I've fallen for you ever since the day you helped me out at the hospital and you didn't judge me, you treated me with nothing but respect when I treated you horribly. You have a heart of gold and I'm just glad I was able to finally tell you my feelings. I'm sorry for the way I treated you before, I was just scared to let you in but now I want you in my life, you make me feel safe and loved."

He cupped your cheeks, "Please stay with me. Don't let go of me. I'm begging you to be mine, just mine. Only mine. And I will give my whole life for you, just to be with you, to make up for the time we lost. You are all that I want and all that I need. You are the one for me. If I can't be with you, I don't want to be with anyone else. Please let me take care of you and treat you like the angel you are."

He leaned down and pressed his lips on yours as he whispered, "Be mine and no one else's. Please..."

You felt tears in your eyes, this time it was tears of happiness. "Yes...yes Bucky...I'll be yours. I'm all yours." You went to kissed him but soon the kiss deepened. You moved on top of him as he squeezed your ass and you grinded against him.

Bucky broke the kiss and groaned, "Doll, we have to stop." He put his hands on your waist, trying to slow your movements. Bucky bit his bottom lip. "Or I’m going to get blue balls for the rest of the night."

Your eyes went to his cock seeing it starting to get hard once more. You chuckled and got off him. Bucky laid on his side as you snuggled next to him, "You're right."

Bucky kissed the top of your head, "Thank you, doll. Thank you for loving me. For being my girl and only mine."

"You are welcome, and thank you, for making me yours." You snuggled close to him.

He pulled you closer and caressed your cheeks, "You are perfect, just perfect."

He pulled the sheets over you, so you didn't get cold. You yawned and closed your eyes as you held Bucky's hand and drifted off to sleep. "Sleep well, baby."

You smiled, “Good night, Bucky.”

You were happy, and he was happy. This was all you ever wanted, and it seemed like everything was going well.

But, you still have a problem, a big one. Your friends and the Avengers. They would definitely freak out.

—— FIN ——

Thank you immensely for supporting this series! Your encouragement means a lot. Although I might not be very active here, your comments always bring a smile to my face. I hope you'll stick around for my upcoming projects!

Would love to hear your thoughts on the hyperlinks. Did you like them? Should I continue adding them in future projects? Let me know!

Special thanks for you guys! Thank you for all the love! Sorry if I can't reply to all of you, your comments truly made my day.

@vicmc624 , @am-3-thyst , @blackwood-bodecker-housewife , @barnesandsteven , @rainy-day-lady , @nouk1998 , @cl7ire , @oneofthedyingpoets , @dnovastark , @waywardhunter95 , @wintrsoldrluvr , @learisa , @angel-xx-1 , @spngingerbread21 , @pattiemac1 , @mavrellover91 , @kentokaze , @simpfoegeorge , @k4t13l0u1s3 , @nothingbettertosay81 , @walkingwithoutreason , @buggy14 , @everythingmarveltopgun , @emerald-writes , @bisexuawolfsalt , @aboobie , @unaxv , @buckybarnessimpp , @sstanbarnes , @cjand10 , @spencerreidisagorgman , @lalau , @mostlymarvelgirl , @iloveceandsswithallmyheart , @ridingthehotmessexpress , @bisexualnikkisixx , @browneyedgrli , @blueraspberryreader , @hereticdance , @kittenkiryu , @loki-laufeyson68 , @ghostlypineappl , @capswife , @mayusenpai666 , @abeltownshipslittlebitch , @pizzagirlxnsfwx , @scorpiosaintt , @mrsjoequinn , @funkybarnes , @introverbatim

#bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel x reader #bucky barnes angst #groveling #jealous!bucky #bucky one shot #bucky an asshole

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neroushalvaus · 6 months

Text

Tumblr in the 60s – deleted posts

Some people requested a sequel to this post so I thought I'd post these drafts that didn't make it to the original. Maybe doing more at some point if the inspiration hits me but I hope these bring you some joy.

🚀 starrfleet Follow

HEY GUYS!! We're buying The Beatles so John and Paul can finally get together!! Who's in

🎹 nixonsafascist Follow

Call that... Beatles for Sale

🚀 starrfleet Follow

Dude this is serious. We want to free them. Why is homophobia so very funny to you?

🎶 mclennstarrison Follow

Didn't The Beatles start managing themselves after Mr Epstein died? So you plan to buy them... From themselves?

🚀 starrfleet Follow

Oh so the george harrison vampire mpreg blog is going to preach to us now.

92 notes

📻 lesbianbobdylan Follow

"Let men have short hair!!" "It's okay to not agree with the civil rights folk" "Don't let tumblr tell you that serving your country is bad" You are all so chronically online and convinced your little hippie bubble represents the world that you have the worst takes. Conservatism is alive and well, us hippies are the fucking minority. The outside world is perfectly okay with all the anti-mlk short-haired men who are happily getting drafted. You are not counterculture.

15,5 t. notes

☁️ ankin-vaimo Follow

Tumblr is so US/UK centric. Scrolling through this site you'd think there were no other tv shows than star trek and no other bands than the monkees and that the stonewall riots were the only meaningful political activism that has ever happened. There's so much great culture elsewhere. I bet you have never even heard of Tapani Kansa.

🇻🇳 shirellesofficial

#shhh don't tell Tumblr that other countries exist #they couldn't even admit Please Mr. Postman was originated by black women (tags via @marvelettesofficial)

peer reviewed tags

#sorry for going through your tumblr marvelettesofficial #you're just so funny #hope i'm not annoying you

54 notes

🌼 andpeoplesaywebeatlearound Follow

People really like to pretend us Beatles girlies hate Y*ko for being asian and a woman like she didn't literally make John cheat on his wife and leave his young son

🪕 prostitutesandlesbians Follow

don't talk like us beatles girlies are all the same, i personally want to fuck her on a canvas while we're both covered in menstrual blood, creating modern art by making love

✝️ jesusrevolution Follow

Op is this you? ↓

🎶 mclennstarrison Follow

Also like, "made John cheat on his wife and leave his young son", did John himself have nothing to do with that decision or..?

🪕 prostitutesandlesbians Follow

do you guys think she and john do mommy play

🎶 mclennstarrison Follow

I appreciate the input @prostitutesandlesbians but we're trying to call the op out for being a racist misogynist

🪕 prostitutesandlesbians Follow

sorry

346 notes

🤪 thekinkykinks Follow

Why is there even discourse about this... Yeah, the folks at Stonewall could have been more respectful towards the police officers who were just doing their jobs, but why are we acting like throwing some pennies at the police officers and calling them "Lily Law" is the worst type of oppression

🥿 trustnobutch Follow

You know what? No. Fuck you. I'm tired of you all talking about these people like they were your poor little meow meows. Have you read about this at all? The raid did not happen because the police "hates gay people wah wah". Stonewall Inn was run by the mob. The. Fucking. Mob. Would you rather have the police not protecting us from criminals, huh??? And the rioters were nothing but a bunch of attention seekers. I heard that a guy from the fucking Mattachine Society phoned newspapers and took pictures of the riot. I'm so disappointed, that was the only gay group that seemed to care about looking respectable in the eyes of the heterosexuals. People who were there made us all look bad and set our movement back like 50 years. Fuck you for supporting them.

🍊 kissmemissoklaholma Follow

Yeah. I heard someone threw a brick.

✌ draftdodgerdyke

??? Nobody threw bricks, where the fuck do you get your information ??

#they should have tho #chilling at the stockholm airport finding the weirdest takes

998 notes

🧸 teddyboyfemme Follow

i'm sharing a joint with this cute ass butch with the cutest curliest hair ever guyyyyssss I think i'm falling in love

🧸 teddyboyfemme Follow

she plays the harmonica for me i want to fuck her to the mattress

🧸 teddyboyfemme Follow

i don't have any idea what she's singing about but i think she likes the rolling stones too, we have so much in commonnnn

🧸 teddyboyfemme Follow

So it turns out that was Bob Dylan.

70,9 t. notes

#tumblr in the 60s #1960s #dashboard simulator #i edited some of them so they'd appear more finished #racism ment //#better safe than sorry

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loonmartell · 21 days

Text

𓄹𓄼 Rainy day brew 𓄼𓄹

(No outbreak Joel Miller x f!reader)

Summary : Can a stormy night and well brewed coffee bring two hearts together?

Rating : Explicit/+18 (Smut! MDNI)

Word count : 6,336 (I got carried away sorry..)

Warnings/tags : No outbreak AU, pining, Alternating POV, pet names, one “yes, ma’am” because I couldn’t help it, a sprinkle of plot, SMUT (unprotected PiV sex, fingering, dirty talk, grinding, kissing, teasing, One (1) playful ass slap, creampie), storms (rain, thunder & lightning), A LOT of yapping about pour over coffee, no use of y/n.

A/N : Hello again! Today I come with Joel smut 🙏🏻. I wrote this for @undercoverpena ‘s April Showers Challenge! I absolutely fell in love with the idea when i saw it, cuz if there’s one thing about me it’s that I LOVE rain! So ofc i had to try and do it <3 A big huge colossal thank you to @joels-darlin for being my lovely beta <33 and @coispunk for not blocking me after i bounced off the walls contemplating if i should upload this or not ✨✨✨

Masterlist

——

“You need a ride home darlin’?”

You turn to the source of the voice and find Joel talking to you through the rolled down window of his pick up truck.

“Oh! no it’s okay I can wait for the rain to—”

“Non ‘a that now, This storm could last ‘til tomorrow night” he leans over the passenger seat to open the door for you.

It’s not that you wouldn’t appreciate the ride —you most certainly would— but you didn’t want to be an inconvenience and you especially didn’t want Joel to think that you were aburden.

You didn’t know each other very well. Your best friend Maria is dating his brother Tommy. And you’ve been dragged to a couple of dinners and drinks over the last couple of months with the three of them. But the conversations were always guided by the other two, so you and Joel never really spoke much. In fact, you had the fleeting idea that maybe Joel didn’t like you. He’s always so tense around you, you know this because you literally saw his jaw tensing after you showed up. And you caught him glaring at you a couple of times. You thought you may have unknowingly offended him somehow, but Maria assured you afterwards that you didn't say or do anything wrong and that he was probably just tired. So you let it go, but the idea is still floating around in your head.

Tonight was one of those nights where you went out for drinks, Maria and Tommy headed home early and left you with Joel half an hour ago. And not long after that Joel excused himself saying he had an early morning and said his goodbyes.

You waited a couple of minutes before you got out as well. Only, much to your delight; a storm was brewing and it was raining by the time you were ready to walk home. What an incredible choice you made to walk instead of drive on this day.

When Joel was one street away from where he left you at the bar. He thought back on when you mentioned leaving your car at home because you thought it was nice weather for a stroll. He tried really hard to get the idea of you walking home in this storm out of his head. You can manage. Get an uber, call a cab, whatever. But then again, Joel's southern manners would never allow him. That, and this big, colossal crush he has on you.

The first time he ever saw you was when he picked up Tommy from Maria’s (and your) apartment one morning. Tommy left him waiting long enough for you to get out and go to work (he assumed). You really had him in a chokehold. You were really, breathtakingly beautiful. You had your hair in a high ponytail with a few strands deliberately out, framing the gorgeous features of your face. You had both your hands full. One had a large handbag hanging from your wrist, hand holding a travel mug and a coat hanging on your forearm. The other hand was holding a bright red watering can. You started watering the flower beds on the windowsills and the big pot of gardenias right by the door. Your next door neighbour, an old lady, got out at that time. And Joel saw your cheery smile for the first time, and what he assumed were good mornings were exchanged. What a sweet, little thing.

He had the sudden urge to roll down the car window so he could hear what voice accompanied that divine face. But he thought better of it. And sooner than he would prefer, you were in your car and driving off.

When Tommy finally showed up, apparently physically unable to take his lips off of Maria’s, judging by how they never separated even after he was out the door. Joel rolled his eyes and turned his face away from that scene and towards the street on his other side.

Finally Tommy got into the car with a disgusting, lovesick smile on his face. But he smelled like shampoo and his hair was relatively wet. He showered and for that Joel is eternally grateful.

“You’re late” Joel deadpanned.

“And good morning to you too, brother” The younger man scoffed before placing two travel mugs in the cup holders.

Joel scrunched his eyebrows “what's that?”

“Coffee, Maria’s roommate brews her own with one ‘a those pour over kits and she insisted that we try hers.”

Joel’s throat went dry, thinking about that pretty girl he was unashamedly staring at, going out of her way to make enough coffee for her friend’s boyfriend’s brother. A sweet, delightful little thing.

“That’s real nice of her” if his voice cracked a little, Tommy didn’t notice.

“Yeah it is. So I’ve been thinkin’,” Tommy changed the subject faster than Joel would like. “You think you can drop me off at my place at say.. Two?”

“Two? We finish at the site at least after Three, what d’ya mean you wanna get out at Two?” Joel shifted his eyes from the road long enough to glare at his brother.

“Yeah I know but I was thinkin’” Joel is really starting to hate it when Tommy thinks “today’s me and Maria’s six months anniversary, and I kinda wanna do somethin’ special for her”

Six months anniversary Joel mentally scoffed, the fuck is a six months anniversary? And why isn’t he talking more about that damn sweet roommate!

“Yeah no can do, Romeo. We’re already behind ‘cause ’a last week, need I remind you that you ditched me laying down parquet on my own? had to do the three bedrooms that day all by myself”

“I told you we should’a done planks instead of parquet but you never listen to me, do you?” Tommy’s counter argument was weaker than he was hoping for. It was the owner’s choice, not Joel’s. And they both knew it. “Plus I had a damn plausible excuse that day”

“Not sure if a discount on an already cheap restaurant counts as plausible”

“It wasn’t just a ’discount’, Joel. It was a surf ‘n turf for half the price!”

“Yeah well I was surfin’ and turfin’ alone on the floors of the Johnsons. You’re not ditchin’ me again.”

Tommy slumped down on his chair like a toddler would.

On a red light Joel finally picked up his mug and took his first sip. A sweet, delightful, damn-good coffee making little thing.

——

Before he even knew it, Joel was opening the passenger side door for you, not taking no for an answer. Thankfully, you didn’t put up that much of a fight and climbed your pretty ass in his truck.

The ride was pretty short and silent. The sound of thunder and loud smacks of raindrops against the car not leaving much room for chatting anyway.

When he parked as close as he could to your door, he reached behind your seat to the pocket of it. And brought out a small, folded umbrella. He knew it was a mere seconds walk from the car to your door, but he had the umbrella with him already, so why risk giving you a cold? Your nose, red and sniffling. He had to actively suppress the upturn of the corners of his lips.

“Here” he handed you the umbrella and before you could get a chance to speak, he followed with “not taking no for an answer, darlin’. Gettin’ soaked in this wind could get you sick”

“Um.. actually the storm’s getting stronger, and I was gonna suggest you come inside? I don’t know if I’m comfortable with you driving in this weather”

A sweet, delightful, damn-good coffee making, thoughtful little thing.

He looked out the windows, trying to figure out his next move.

“Think I’ll take you up on that offer. It does look pretty bad, and the slippery streets are harder to navigate when I can’t see further than my nose.” He brought his eyes to you. Hoping he wouldn’t seem too eager to agree.

You graced him with a smile and said “well alright then, guess now I don’t have to feel bad for hogging you umbrella”

“ ‘s not hogging if I’m voluntarily givin’ it to you” he smirked as he turned off the car. He got out of it with a quick “stay where you are” and opened the umbrella as he rounded to your side of the truck.

You walked under the umbrella he was holding. You’ve never been this close to him before and it gave you goosebumps that had nothing to do with the weather. You fiddled with your keys until you got the door open. There was no car outside or shoes in the foyer. They must’ve gone to Tommy's then. As much as you always wanted some quiet, alone time in your apartment. This was not one of those times. You were hoping Maria and Tommy were here to take the edge off of being alone with Joel, but you can’t really back out now and you’re already here. So, time to take a page out of the southern manners book.

”What would you like to drink?” you offered after he settled on the couch. His large frame dwarfing your whole living room, making everything look almost miniature. The thought had you blushing and you don’t really know why, but you don’t even want to find out.

“Coffee would be nice, if it's not a bother” his voice travelled through his place on the couch to the kitchen.

You can’t help the excited grin you have on “not at all! I just got a new Holklotz set that I’ve been dying to try out” when you get a new brewing set, you need time to experiment with different coffee grinds, ratios and timing between blooming and brewing to master the perfect cup. Time is a luxury not available to you on late mornings when you trade it for extra minutes of sleep.

Footsteps approaching the kitchen make you raise your head to see Joel coming into view, his eyebrows scrunched and confused “you got a what?”

You smile and hold the wooden base of the dripstand that you took out of the cabinet “this is my newest set, it arrived a week ago but between work and being too tired after, I haven’t had the time to bring it out and try it yet. Until now” you look at him with a too excited smile that you don’t try to hide.

“Well alrighty then, you happen to have here the perfect white mouse, test away” he settles at the barstool by the kitchen island that you’re standing by. You weigh the coffee beans and put them in the manual grinder, set to the size you need. Not too coarse but not too fine.

“Okay white mouse, care to help?” You hold up the grinder.

“Tell me what you need, boss” he concludes. So, you hand him the grinder to work on it as you heat the water and take the rest of the set out and put it together.

He continues working on grinding the coffee and wonders if you have immensely great upper body strength, since you do this every morning. His coffee is already ground and comes in a container. He doesn’t see the necessity for an upper body workout every time you need a little caffeine. But truth be told, he has been craving that coffee you made him that one time. Damned if it wasn’t the best cup he’s ever had.

The silence is killing him, and he has to avail from the storm that brought him to your home. “So, when you’re not at work or training for an arm wrestlin’ tournament,” he gestures to the grinder “what do you like to do?”

“Obviously, I take part in the tournaments I train for” you say with a serious expression that has his eyes widened in surprise. “I’m kidding, Joel. Although I think I have a good solid shot at winning.” You stick your nose up in the prettiest little smug face and Joel wants to kiss it away so bad. Focus.

He drags himself back to the present “can’t argue with that. But, if you’re basing that over this,” he again gestures to the grinder in his hands “then it’s not enough bargain for winning”.

You scoff and raise your hands up, wiggling your fingers “you have no idea what these hands can do” Joel can see you regretted blurting out the words without thinking, judging by the rising blush on your face and the way you don’t meet his eyes anymore. He can’t say he’s any better, his mind is already conjuring unholy images, reeling his brain and sending a rush of tingling heat down south.

What can they do? He imagines your small hands trying to wrap around his throbbing cock. Or you writhing on your bed stuffing yourself with three of your too small fingers, desperately trying to cum. He bets he can do it faster and better for you. If you give him the chance.

He knows he shouldn’t be picturing you like this. It’s crazy to even think about you like this. You haven’t even told him if you’re interested. Hell he never even said anything to show you he’s interested.

Clearing your throat, this time you’re the one bringing him back to the present, you say “anyway, I think I got off topic there” you let out a nervous chuckle. “To answer your question. My time is pretty much divided between work, coffee and my plants. I’m kinda boring, don’t really got much going on”

Joel doesn’t hear the presence of a partner in your life, and he selfishly likes it.

“Don’t sound boring to me, ‘s pretty comfortable” you smile at his comment and he gives you the coffee grounds, ready to be used.

You start your brewing process, talking him through every step you’re doing. Wetting the filter, dumping the coffee grounds in and meticulously pouring the water on the dripper. The blooming, the timing. He can’t promise he heard everything. Because you bite your bottom lip and your face contorts in the cutest focused face and he can’t help but stare. You really love doing this and he wants to eat you up.

“My chemex is my go-to on late mornings,” You suddenly pipe up as you’re waiting for the water to drip through the coffee grounds. “Even though it takes longer than a V60, It’s just faster to clean up and I can dual-task while it’s brewing. So I don’t mind.”

He lets out a hum from the back of his throat, considering what you said. “What about the taste? Whaddya like more?” He surprises himself that he actually cares and not just trying to be polite.

“I like them both the same, the flavour with the V60 is usually richer ‘cause the filters are thinner, but I still like the soft, smooth taste when using the chemex”.

In the back of his mind, Joel thinks he’s ready to fall in love with you. He loves coffee, sure. But to him it’s just something he needs in the morning and sometimes later in the day. Never really thought much of it, he has a coffee machine that gets work done for him. And yet, here you are, showing him a different, almost artistic aspect of it.

“Although..” Okay so you’re not done yet. “If we’re talking taste-wise in the brewing methods, I’ll have to go with the syphon”

“Syphon?”

“Yes syphon, I tried it once in a lovely family owned coffee shop across town. I’m telling you, if I lived near there? I would be a regular faster than you can say syphon”

“Well syphon is a long word, two full syllables” he faux ponders, making you giggle.

“Okay smartass, coffee’s ready.” You pull out two mugs from the cabinet. And fill them up. And slide his across the kitchen island, a brown owl adorning the ceramic surface.

You both sip at the same time then let out a ridiculously simultaneous soft sighs. You look at Joel with wide, pleading eyes, gauging his reaction. And of course, being the honest man that he is, he would never lie.

“Damn, that is good” he clicks his tongue and goes for another sip.

You smile brightly “I like it too. Although it’s a little more bitter for my liking, think I'll adjust the grind next time.”

You want to kick yourself so bad. You’re only now realising that you got too comfortable and you let yourself go on and on about something he probably doesn’t even care about. You had to shut the caffeine talk down.

“So, Joel, how's Sarah?” You gestured for him to follow you to the living room.

He settled on one side of the loveseat while you occupied the other, folding your legs under yourself. “She’s alright, her mom wanted her to see her grandma so she’s with her this week.” Maria told you all about their co-parenting system and how they’re succeeding in making it work so far. Little 10 years old Sarah spends equal amounts of time with both her parents and she feels loved by both. Not everything is a bed of roses, of course. But they deal with obstacles when they appear in their time.

“That’s nice, and how was her game last week? I remember you said she was nervous about it?” He stared at you for a few seconds too long that it makes you wonder if you crossed a line or said something wrong. But he blinked a couple of times and continued.

“Doin’ great actually, my little goal getter” he pondered softly before announcing “she scored the winning goal in last week’s game!” He sat up a little, you think it’s unconsciously as a result of his excitement.

“Oh my god! That’s so amazing!” You matched his energy “you must be so proud!”.

His smile widened if it was possible “I am, she puts her mind into something and never rests ‘til she gets it,” he reclined against the couch again “dunno where she got it from, but I sure as hell am not gonna complain”

“You’re selling yourself short, Joel.” You offered a warm smile “I’m sure you’ve been a great influence on her, your determination is probably rubbing off on her.”

Joel’s expression softened, a hint of pride flickering in his eyes. “Thanks, sure means a lot coming from you, sweetheart. If I’m bein’ honest, I just wanna see my girl chasin’ her dreams and be happy. ‘s all I want”

“I have no doubt she’ll do so much, and she’ll achieve great things with your guidance and support” you placed your hand on his knees for reassurance.

He felt warmth all over his chest, his heartbeats exceeding those of a hummingbird. His eyes fell down to where your hand was touching and almost burning him, and they stayed there for a while before looking back at your eyes. He has this immense urge to kiss you. The tension has been building all night and his ability to hold himself off is getting harder and harder by the second.

He cleared his throat, trying to steady his racing heart as he met your gaze. "Thank you," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "Your faith in her means the world to me."

Your hand lingered on his knee for a moment longer before you withdrew it, a faint blush coloring your cheeks. "She's lucky to have you as her dad, y’know" you said softly, the look in your eyes showing the sincerity of your words.

A moment of silence passed between you, the air thick with unspoken emotions. Joel's gaze flickered to your lips, his own heart still pounding accompanied by longing. He swallowed hard, struggling to find the right words to convey the feelings swirling inside him.

He brought his eyes back up to yours only to see that your gaze had been on his lips, mirroring his desires. Your gazes met, the tension snapped. Lightning flashes through the window right before your eyes and your lips crash in a bruising, soaring kiss that to outsiders would look as if you were trying to devour each other. Everything happened at a rather fast pace. The roaring of the thunder dwindled by frantic breathing and the rush of blood in his ears. His tongue demanded entry, which you gave no problem. He brought his large palm over your hips, pulling you over to straddle him, never breaking the kiss.

He felt your heat through the layers of clothes between you as you settled on his lap, pulling a soft gasp out of you. Using his grasp on your hips, he rocked you back and forth to grind your center on his bulge, eliciting a string of whines you let out in between the clashing of tongues. In a moment of sudden clarity, he broke off your lips but never moved too far away, he rested his forehead to yours, sharing the air. Finally, he spoke, his voice husky with emotion.“Um- I’m sorry, is- is this okay?”

You continued to move against him, seeking more friction. Then you chuckled through your laboured breathing, “yeah, yes I want this. If- if you do too.”

“Oh darlin’ you have no idea” he hurried out before picking up where he left off, trailing his lips down the corner of your mouth, your jaw, your neck where he settled on open mouthed kisses that sent your head falling back, giving him more of you. He got addicted to the taste of your skin on his tongue fast and he craved to taste more.

Dragging his mouth over your shoulders then to your collarbone. He huffed in frustration, your shirt was personally offending him by denying him the access he needed. Seeming to sense his frustration, you pushed him away slightly so you could pull off your shirt over your head in one smooth motion. He wasted no time roaming his hands all over your torso, returning his mouth to your collarbones, kissing his way down to the parts of your breasts spilling out from your bra.

His hands slithered up from your hips to the sides of your waist, then wrapped around your back and moved up to hook his fingers underneath the strap of your bra. He mumbled against your skin, “can I take it off?” You gasped your affirmation. Overwhelming sensations leaving you breathless.

Even though it was a simple bra strap, he struggled to unhook it. Hands too shaky and excited. You breathed a laugh and did it yourself. Once you’re completely bare, nipples perking up as soon as the cold air hits them. He pulled away, looking at you with wide, fascinated eyes. His lips immediately latched around a nipple, flicking his tongue slowly, almost as if he’s savouring the feeling. He pulled away and murmured “beautiful”. Just to latch onto the other one with the same treatment, “absolutely beautiful” he murmured again into the plushness of your tits.

You felt a shiver at the undivided attention from the gorgeous man that seems to never get enough of you. Of course you always thought he was handsome, that was non negotiable. The man was gorgeous from day one. And tonight, you felt a connection that you never felt before. And as soon as the ties were made, the tension rose suddenly, as if it had always been there but you were too much in your head to notice it, contemplating whether he likes you or not. But now, you do notice it. Very much so. And it’s becoming unbearable. You want him so bad. You want him to drown all your senses. You want him inside, outside, under and over you.

Joel, Joel, Joel.

You held his head with both your hands to pull him away from your chest before saying “need to see you too, Joel” you pleaded as you fumbled with the hem of his shirt trying to lift it. His eyes darkened at your desperation. As quick as the lightning that occasionally lights up the room around you, he flipped you so your back is against the couch and took off his shirt and jeans and hovered above you.

You took a steadying breath and your eyes drank in the sight in front of you, bringing your hands on each of his wrists. You mapped the outlines of his thick arms, moving towards his shoulders. Then brought them back to his broad chest, bare except for the hair that formed a thick layer in the center. You felt the muscles ripple under your fingertips. Built from the physical labour that a contractor would endure. You lowered your touch a little to feel his soft stomach. Squishy tummy, a sign of a man that was actually living and feeding himself well. Not shying away from a meal or obsessing over fitting society’s mould of perfection. You wanted to kiss it and nibble on it so bad, but you weren’t sure if he’d be okay with it, that was probably more of a second time type of thing. Mentally shaking your head away from the idea that you’re already thinking of next time when nothing even happened yet. Lastly, you ran your fingers on the smattering of coarse, dark hair that dipped further down into his tented boxers.

Mostly empty coffee cups long abandoned on the table. He knelt on his knees between your spread legs, and yanked your pants and panties in one quick motion. Towering over your naked form. His eyes danced around every inch of your body. He brought his thumbs to each side of your heat. Tracing the outside of your folds. He murmured so low, almost as if he’s talking to himself “Too goddamn pretty for your own good, baby”. He was basking in the sight of your desperate writhing as your need for any kind of friction became unfathomable.

“Please,” you whined in frustration, A smirk pulled on his lips at your little pouty face.

“Please what, darlin’?”

“Touch me” your keen hands reach for his wrists to coax them where you want him. But he was determined to keep his hands at their place.

Yeah, your hands are too small, too soft for such a sweet, delightful, damn-good coffee making, thoughtful, eager little thing.

“I am touching you now, ain’t I?” He keeps stroking the outside of your lower lips.

“More, please.” You whimpered.

“Well, you leave me no choice now, since you asked so nicely”

He wasted no time gathering the slick from your opening and plunging his thick middle finger in and out. Your breath catching at the sudden but welcome stretch. Not long after, his ring finger joined inside and he curled them both up, searching and finding the spot that makes your eyes roll and your hips buck into his hand in shock.

“sit still, angel.” He placed his other hand on your lower stomach to keep your back rested on the couch. He picked up the pace of his fingers thrusting in and out, in and out, massaging the same spot over and over and over. He felt your walls slightly tightening around his fingers, and there’s a change in the rhythm of your breathing. You’re close. “Cum for me, angel. Come on lemme see this pretty pussy droolin’ for me”. He kept his pace up until you were gasping for air. And with a specifically strong stroke, your walls clumped down, choking his fingers and soaking them to the wrist. Working you through your high, he kept his eyes on you, the sight of you coming apart on his fingers. Heavenly.

He took his fingers out and sucked them with lewd, obscene sounds. He made a show to lick his palm clean of your release and humming around his fingers. “Next time, I’m havin’ it straight from its source” he leaned down and kissed your parted lips. “Oughta have a palate cleanser ‘f we’re gonna give your coffee a fair shot” he gave a playful smack to your ass “and you sure know how to make ‘em.”

You blushed and giggled as you couldn’t help the giddy feeling of the prospect of a next time. The image of Joel relishing the taste of you is already seared deep in your brain. You couldn’t wait to have these slurping noises happening between your legs, certain already that he doesn’t eat, he devours.

He sat up on his haunches and lowered his boxers below his balls. He took his cock in his hand. Not even his large hand wrapped around it makes it seem any less girthy. The head is angry and leaking a steady stream. He gives himself slow, languid strokes from base to red-purplish head. You couldn’t help yourself, you sat up and your hand took over his. Stroking him at the same pace he was. He shuddered at your touch and marvelled at the contrast between his rough, calloused hand versus your soft, smooth ones on his cock. You gradually increased the pressure, adding a twist at the end that sent his head falling back with a stifled groan between his clenched teeth.

His hands were tight fists by his sides, desperately trying to hold off but ready to pounce at you any moment. “Hold on, baby” he groaned “I- I gotta grab a condom”

“But I wanna feel you, and I’m safe” you said in a little, unsure voice. Still stroking him and loving the velvety softness enveloping the steely hardness. When your gazes met again, the hungry look in his eyes made a tiny sound climb to the back of your throat. With that, the last thread holding off the beast inside him snapped. With a low growl he grabbed your ankles, yanking you closer to his pelvis, making your back hit the soft pillow on the couch with a dull thud.

“Baby, I’m clean too. But I need ya to be sure, angel. ‘Cause when I start, ‘m not really sure I can stop” He said through dark eyes that were straining to hold off.

You held firm eye contact with him “I’m sure, Joel. Please fuck me now”

“Yes, ma’am” with that, he ran his cock through your slit, gathering you wetness before lining it with your entrance and with one quick motion he sinks into you. Your moans and his name on your tongue, dripping honey onto his ear. He feels your warmth enveloping every inch of him. He wants to get lost in the feeling. To replace every bad memory he has with this sensation, the divine fit of your silky smooth walls, encompassing him. So tight, so soft, so perfect.

As his hips rocked back and forth, you wrapped your legs around him, and dug your heels into his ass, wanting him impossibly deeper. Sweet, delightful, damn-good coffee making, thoughtful, eager, greedy little thing. He removed his hands from beside your head to hold the base of your skull in one of his palms and wrap the other under your waist for leverage. Grunting into your neck while your pretty moans filling his ears got louder as he moved in a pace that promised him a date with painkillers and an ice pack on his back tomorrow night.

When he felt the telltale signs of your near release, he gently let go of your head to bring his hand down and circle your bundle of nerves. Your continuous string of frantic pleads prompted him to lay soothing kisses to the corner of your mouth. With a compulsive string of “it’s okay, baby”, “sound so pretty whinin’ like that”, and “just let go for me, princess.”

The last one pushing you over the edge. With your legs quivering, your breathing turning into shallow panting and your hands clawing at his back. He was working you through it all with a “that’s it, angel. There ya go”, “so good for me” and “look so pretty cummin’ on my cock”.

Once your muscles stopped contracting and your heartbeat settled on. Joel switched to a more gentle pace. You stuttered out between small gasps of air “cum for me, Joel. Fill me up”. Leaving him no choice but to buck into you wildly with renewed vigour. Fucking you like all of his goddamn life is depending on it.

Loving the effect you have on him, you whispered “Wanna feel you inside me after you leave, Joel”. This makes his release hit him like a freight train. With a few forceful plunges and a string of grunted out fucks. He shoots his load with a prolonged groan of your name, painting your walls with strong, long spurts. He came so hard, he thinks he blacked out for a minute.

He collapsed on top of you, nuzzling in your neck and surrounding himself in your scent as he comes down from his high. In the middle of the chaos of regulating heartbeats and relaxing bodies, your laboured breathing turns into a giggle when his beard tickles your neck and under your jaw. He lifted his head to look at you with a “what?” and scrunched eyebrows. You stifled your giggle with a shake of your head. Only failing when he dips his head in your neck again. He smirked when realisation hit him. Lifting his head again “You’re ticklish ain’tcha, angel?” His face is so close your noses were touching.

You pressed your lips in a firm, straight line and shook your head again.

“No? So you don’t mind me doing this?” He rubbed his beard on your neck again and again. You went into a giggle fit that triggered his own breathy chuckles as he switched to the other side.

“Okay, okay I am, I am!” You managed to say between giggles.

He stopped and looked you straight in the eyes “ ‘s what I thought” he descended his lips on yours and they mingled in a soft, deep kiss that made you lightheaded. He wouldn’t mind getting used to this, “Lemme clean ya up, princess”.

One year later.

The anniversary of your first “get together” is today. Joel wanted to skip work all together, but he knew Tommy would give him shit about it. How ironic.

He rented a gorgeous, comfy cabin for the weekend, that’s a thirty minutes drive away from town. Joel coaxed Sarah into a slumber party at her uncle’s, which she would’ve very happily agreed to either way. But she’s a smart kid and she chose to haggle for a later bedtime and ice cream for dessert both nights.

He wanted to take the extra time to prepare everything you might need, from basic essentials like food or first aid kits, to extra entertainment options like books or puzzles. He doubts they’ll need the latter though.

——

But then again, it’s April, and a storm was closing in. Rendering the drive there too dangerous to make during the night. And the storm is predicted to last the whole weekend, even threatening to close schools on Monday.

“I’m just upset you didn’t get your money’s worth from that cabin” you say with worried expressions as you put away the food that you aimlessly packed earlier.

Joel brings the last of the suitcases in, sitting them by the door. “The owners seem pretty nice, bet they’ll understand and agree to push the reservation back”

“Then, that settles it.” You sighed and closed the fridge with finality. “We’re having our anniversary weekend here” you approached him and wrapped your arms around his neck.

He instinctively placed his hands on the dip of your waist, and grunted with furrowed eyebrows “I got a long ass list of things I wanted to do to you in that cabin, now ‘s just sitting in my wallet mockin’ me”.

“It’s for the better, gives me time to make my own list” you teased him with a wink and a bite to your lower lip.

He squeezed your waist with a low, gravel groan. Eyes on your lips in a strong, hungry stare.

But before he can act on his thoughts you unwrap yourself from his tight grasp and turn away with a shout that carries upstairs “Sarah, change of plans! We’re staying here for the weekend!”

Hearing her footsteps descending the stairs, Sarah asked “you’re staying with us too?”. She squeals when you nod with a bright grin. “Now we can watch that movie I told you about last week!” With that, she drags you into the living room, gushing to you about the movie while you listen with interest and occasional oohs and aahs and reactions Joel knows are genuine.

Every other sound dies down as one thought only echoes in his head.

Oh god, please let me keep her.

The black, velvet box burns a hole in his suitcase. And item no.1 on his list sits idle by, just waiting to be checked.

He knows you’ll say yes, this isn’t a subject you avoid. You’re both aware of what you want in a relationship and you communicate your needs to each other. So you’re both sure that you’re on the same page. The element of surprise lies in the timing and method only.

As he looks at you and his daughter, he knows that this feels right. This is how it is supposed to be.

Okay, he owes Tommy an apology. Because now he understands disgusting, lovesick smiles and the urge to get out of work early. He understands six month anniversaries, because when he’s with you; there isn’t a damn thing he wouldn’t do for the mere chance to make you happy.

A Sweet, delightful, damn-good coffee making, thoughtful, eager, greedy, dreamy little thing.

My Sweet, delightful, damn-good coffee making, thoughtful, eager, greedy, dreamy little thing.

——

A/N : Again, if you’re still here, I love you so much & you made my day <333 pls tell me your thoughts! I write cuz i love doing it but i need to know if i should continue to upload or just let the contents of my delulu brain stay in my phone 🫣

Loon out, luv yaa <33

#undercoveraprilshowerschallenge #joel miller x f!reader #joel x f!reader #joel miller x reader #joel x reader #joel miller #joel tlou #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller fic

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anisespice · 1 year

Text

“ the fuck-it list ” || hq! pt. 2

one || three

synopsis: there’s a list going around consisting of hot guys on campus that are deemed “fuckable” with theories as to what they’d be like in bed. it’s all fun and games until somehow your boyfriend ends up on this list.

pairing: various x gn!reader [ hinata, bokuto, kuroo ]

warnings: cursing, suggestive language, hinata’s is SUPER long lol mild objectification, bo and kuroo’s are criminally the shortest ones i’ve written so far ugh (but they get the point across), and I think that’s it :D

notes: first of all, can i just say THANK Y'ALL SO MUCH ♡♡♡ i did not expect that headcanon to blow up, so i will do my very best to make the following ones just as juicy and entertaining for y'all :))) special thanks to @melanatedkink for helping out with this, she helps bring out my inner whore lol hope you guys enjoy !!

notes ii: didn't want the situations to get too repetitive, so these may take me a little longer for the other characters i do in the future, but i appreciate the love and patience for the series thus far !!! you guys are awesome

tagged: @daedaep69 , @ahahadumbo , @viktoryn , @mdsb , @ourgoddessathena , @ushygushybaby , @hyori2 , @lumpywolf , @fantasycantasy

HINATA knew all about the list. Being the social butterfly he was, it would be impossible for the topic not to come up in conversation, especially since a lot of his friends were on it. He found it interesting, to say the least, but never really took the whole thing too seriously. It was just for shits and giggles after all, right?

During a water break in the gym, Hinata aimed for his mouth while squeezing the bottle. Most made it inside, but the rest dripped down his chin. Thinking nothing of it, the spiker used the bottom of his jersey to wipe his face dry, be it water or sweat. And even though it was for a split second, it was more than enough time for the damage to be done to the hearts of those chilling up by the railing on the first level. Beneath the LEDs, in all their sinful glory, were Shoyo Hinata’s nipple piercings.

The gates of heaven have opened, and the choir sings a hymn. But, along came Satan, as he rubbed his seedy hands together in mischief. The groupies were shellshocked and knew they must alert the masses, eyeing their prey all the way until the end of practice. This caught the attention of a certain blonde setter, who brought it to Hinata’s attention right off the bat as they cleaned up the court.

“Oi. Don’t wanna alarm ya or anythin’, but…those spectators up there been eye-ballin’ you for quite a while. Could be trouble.”

The tangerine gave a confused grin, looking over his shoulder in their direction. Sure enough, their eyes never wavered, not even after being caught. However, he merely shrugged it off. “It’s probably nothing.”

Atsumu hummed, skeptically. Though, he didn’t push it any further.

Once they were dismissed and sent to the showers, by the time Hinata was done he'd be the only one left in the locker room. He had to take his time and be extra careful not to bump his piercings, still kinda sensitive. Kageyama offered to stay behind so they could walk back together, "HINATA-BOKE, HURRY UP BEFORE I LEAVE YOUR SLOW ASS IN HERE."

But, Hinata politely declined. "SUCK A DICK, BAKAYAMA. I'm going over [_____]'s tonight, so go on ahead!"

With a nod, the stoic setter took his leave. "Cool. Tell 'em I said hey. See you tomorrow."

"See ya tomorrow!"

And then, all was quiet.

The only sounds filling the space were the running water, his humming, and the flickering overhead lights. When he stepped out with a towel wrapped snuggly around his waist, Hinata heard the sound of his phone ringing in his bag. His tired expression soon melted into joy at the cheesy love song he used as your ringtone.

Pressing the answer button, Hinata greeted you with his face all in the camera, and a bright, "Hi, [_____]!!~ You here already?"

Your eyes were on the road but you grinned, adoringly. "Hi, Sho. And, no, almost there though. I stopped by the canteen to grab some dinner. Know how hungry you get after practice."

"Mmm, starved. You're an angel, angel."

Staying on the call as he changed, the two of you conversed about each other's day as normal. However, when the topic of those groupies eventually came up, it instantly made you tense. Even though most of his fans were harmless, there were still a few rotten apples in the bunch that made you wary. "God, don’t tell me they asked you to spike their ass like a ball again."

Hinata snorted, throwing on a clean shirt, "That wasn't me, remember? That was Sakusa-san. Never seen him look so horrified." You laughed, having recalled. "But, according to 'tsumu-san, they hardly took their eyes off me tonight.”

“That’s old news, babe. Those vultures are always watching you.”

“Not always-”

"ALWAYS." You affirmed, pulling up to the building. Parking outside the doors, you teasingly said, "We can continue talking about how wrong you are in the car, I’m outside. And hurry, the food's gonna get cold."

"Yes, boss," he chuckled, gathering up his things. Throwing the duffle over his shoulder, Hinata made haste for the lobby, making sure to turn the lights off behind him. “See you in a minute, sunshine.~”

With that he hung up, walking with a spring in his step. He had a surprise for you, and couldn’t wait to finally show them off later. Now that the piercings had healed enough, Hinata couldn’t fight the obscene images clouding his mind of all the things you’d do once you saw them. It made him dizzy just thinking about it…

Unfortunately, someone would beat him to the punch. Or, more specifically, something.

‘Shoyo Hinata. 5’6ft sweetheart, and a ball of energy who’ll light up any room he walks into. He may look all innocent, but clearly, we’ve been underestimating him. Kinda has everyone wondering what other piercings he may be hiding…and where.~ What he may lack in height, he makes up for in girth. Expect to go for several rounds back to back, ‘cause he’s got STAMINA. This man will also be very vocal—Talk you through an orgasm, how good you make him feel, dirty-talk, begging, you name it—He is BIG on communication. He's also a cuddler, after-care will be disgustingly sweet, and pillow talk will be a must. 100/10.’

Wow. You suspected those parasites were up to no good, but never would’ve expected this. The picture attached to the thread was of your boyfriend, mid-air from blocking a ball, with his arms straight up. As he was coming down, his shirt was coming up, exposing his whole torso. It was a little blurry, but whoever took the photo zoomed in enough to where you could easily make out the silver on his nipples.

You pursed your lips, uncertain on how to feel. On one hand, you were kinda annoyed they, let alone the whole campus, got to see them before you even knew about them. But, on the horny hand…

“Hey, gorgeous!” Hinata exclaimed, startling you out of your thoughts. He had opened the back door, and threw his bag on the seat before eagerly joining you in the front. Leaning across the console to give you a kiss, he was taken aback when you stopped him, placing a finger on his lips. “Mmm?”

You gave him a blank look, making him a little nervous. He was just on the phone with you and things were totally fine, what could’ve possibly changed in the five minutes it took him to get to the car? Hinata didn’t have to ponder for long, though. Not when you used that very same finger to hook around his collar, yanking it downward. He yelped, pulling away in the last second, but his reflexes couldn’t save him this time.

You confirmed it with your own eyes now.

“I uh—…T-Those are…,” he spluttered, scratching his cheek. You happily watched him squirm, arms crossed with a knowing grin on your face. Hinata sweat-dropped. “I-I was gonna t-tell you, I swear, but I wanted them to heal a little before I did, so that you could…”

“Could what, Sho?”

His face was pure vermilion. With a huff, Hinata whined, “How’d you even find out? I had a whole thing planned and everything! Was it Bakayama? Did he tell you?? Dammit, I knew I should’ve asked someone else to come with me to the appointment!”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “No, it wasn’t Kageyama. I told you so, those vultures are always watching.”

“Huh?”

“I’ll tell you later. For now,” you reached over again, this time with both hands as lithe fingertips slid underneath the thin cotton of his shirt, trailing up the smooth skin until you brushed against the perked nubs. Hinata twitched, immediately biting back a moan as you began teasing them at once. If he got any redder, he’d surely pass out from all the blood rushing to his head. Luckily, it was also rushing elsewhere. “Let’s hurry and get you back to mine’s, hm?"

"...S-So I uhn," he keened when you lightly tugged on one, hand reflexively grabbing your wrist, but not to stop you. His eyes fluttered as he let you feel him up as much as you pleased, mouth hung open as he began panting like a dog. "...I take it y-you like them, then?"

"Oh, baby, I love 'em. Best investment ever, honestly. Can't wait to put them in my mouth," you sighed dreamily, gently pinching to elicit a moan from the ginger. Music to your ears. From the look on his face, he could probably cum from this feeling alone. You pulled away at the thought, smirking as he instantly began protesting.

"Aht, not so fast, we still gotta eat. But, don't worry. You'll get your dessert."

Homie nodded so quick, you were sure he gave himself whiplash. Adorable.

By the end of a very long night full of debauchery, you eventually told him about the list and how exactly you found out about the piercings. And you know what? He couldn’t even be mad. At least it wasn't Kageyama.

“Oh! He says ‘hey’ by the way.”

Now, BOKUTO thought he knew about the list. But after the whole…misunderstanding with Akaashi, it turned out he knew absolutely nothing. Granted, how he felt about it didn’t really change after his friends spent over an hour explaining it to him. If anything, it fueled his distaste for it even more. When he showed up on your doorstep looking absolutely distraught, fat tears rolling down his face as he proclaimed his unwavering devotion to you, you only needed one guess.

‘Kotaro Bokuto. 6’2ft of GAWD DAMN. He's sweet, confident, and R E S P E C T F U L?? We love a triple threat. Not to mention how MASSIVE he is, and don’t even get me started on his ass. Would literally be unable to keep my hands to myself, just saying. Like how you see him dominate the volleyball court, the same could be said for the bedroom, without a doubt. Bokuto loves to give, but he’s also a taker. Definitely gives off Switch with service Dom tendencies. Plus he’s greedy. He doesn’t care if you already came four times, give him some more!!! ∞/10. He is beyond the standard. Argue with the wall.’

You remembered reading it while taking a break from studying, merely brushing it off. It was only a matter of time he’d end up on their radar, you had prepared for it since the list first started circulating around campus. Frankly, you had completely forgotten about it; up until now.

“Ko, baby, please calm down-”

“I don’t care how many people wanna touch my ass! They can’t have it, it’s for you to touch and nobody else!”

You quickly pulled him into your room before he screamed any more embarrassing stuff in the hallway, knowing your neighbors probably recognized his voice by now. The last thing you wanted was another noise complaint, your RA already despised his visits enough to consider banning him altogether–Whether or not they had the authority, you’d rather not find out today.

Once behind the safety of a closed door, the behemoth of a man came crashing down to his knees, arms circling around your midriff as he buried himself in your stomach. You jumped slightly as your room shook from the sudden action, deeply exhaling in order to reconfigure your thinning patience. Taking a page from Akaashi’s book, you knew getting snippy with Bokuto while he was in this state would only worsen it, so you approached cautiously.

“Ko,” you cooed, reaching down to caress his deflated hair. He sniffled, hugging you closer in response. Gently, you pushed him far enough to see his face, wiping away the tears as you offered him a soft smile. “Look at me, do I look upset to you?”

Bokuto took a moment to search your eyes, then shook his head.

“Exactly. Which means you don’t need to be, you’ve done nothing wrong. Now stand up, I’m sure that drop hurt your knees, didn’t it?”

He sniffled once more, then nodded. Slightly embarrassed, Bokuto stumbled back up to his full height, and sure enough, his knees were red. You tsked, gesturing to your desk chair for him to sit on while you fetched an ice pack from your fridge.

“Although I appreciate the reassurance, I already knew you were on the list, babe.”

Bokuto’s head shot up from looking at the floor, mood instantly doing a one-eighty as he gaped at you in shock. “HUH? Why didn’t you say anything to me about it?”

“I didn’t think you cared,” you replied, chuckling. “It’s been up for weeks. I figured you saw it and just ignored it, or something. Besides, I’ve gotten used to people openly expressing their attraction to you, so it wasn’t anything new.”

“You shouldn’t have to get used to it! People need to respect our relationship, no matter how fantastic I am!”

You snorted, but couldn’t help the chuckle. Returning with an ice pack, you kneeled by his legs and placed the cooling relief upon the irritated skin. “Mm, you are pretty fantastic. But, I don’t mind the attention you get, Ko. Because I know I’m the lucky one who gets you all to myself.”

Bokuto beamed down at you, lower lip quivering at the praise.

Effortlessly, he swooped you up from the floor and held you in his lap, the ice pack long forgotten as it slipped out your hands. With a loving squeeze, Bokuto nuzzled into the side of your neck, forcing soft giggles out of you from the ticklish feeling as you hugged him back. You felt so warm in his embrace, and he smelled like home. Even if you’d never say such corny things out loud, the way you melted in his arms was enough for him to know exactly how you felt; it was mutual.

"Plus, you can get a bit intense. They wouldn't last the night."

"Hey, hey, hey, you got that right," Bokuto grinned, smugly. "No one could ever handle me as well as you do, baby owl..." he purred, warm breath fanning over the skin of your shoulder, signaling goosebumps up your arms. You hummed in thought, snuggling in closer, whilst also not-so-accidentally grinding back against the flag pole in his sweats. He grunted, hips jerking upward in surprise.

"Hm, I dunno. It's been a while, I may have forgotten how."

Bokuto chuckled at the tease, the vibrations deep within his chest as he squeezed you a little tighter. You bit your lip to hold in your giddiness as his large hands began to wander, feeling a different kind of warmth as he began to overwhelm your senses. Trailing wet kisses from your shoulder to the side of your face, he playfully nipped at your cheek, eliciting a tiny squeal from you as you wiggled in his hold. And doing so only made you grind back on him even more.

His breathing grew heavier with each passing second, letting out a guttural groan before he flipped you around, making you straddle him. To anyone else, experiencing his sudden mood changes would've given them whiplash. Just moments prior, he'd been on his knees, crying with his head buried in your stomach like it was the end of the world. Now, he looked about five seconds from being on his knees for a different reason. For you, it was just another Wednesday.

"That so? How 'bout I remind you then?"

KUROO thought the list was the most hilarious thing to ever occur on campus, hands down one of his go-to's for entertainment when he’s bored.

Like right now.

The lecture dragged on for what felt like forever, the professor mumbling about absolutely nothing of value as everyone in the class busied themselves with whatever would keep them awake. Some played games on their laptops pretending to take notes, while others blatantly chatted with their deskmates.

With an airpod in, Kuroo had you on facetime in the corner of his screen so that you could keep each other company while he scrolled through social media, and you put away dishes. You tried to convince him to leave the class early, "Clearly you aren't paying attention, so you might as well."

"Unfortunately, he only counts attendance if you sign your name on the exit sheet at the very end of the lecture. So leaving early's out of the question." He muttered. You hummed in understanding, then chortled.

"Oh. Sucks to be you, then."

Kuroo glared half-heartedly at you, but it completely softened at the sound of your laughter, despite it being at his expense. He kissed his teeth after checking the time, mildly annoyed that he still had less than ten minutes. “Why’d you even take the course if you couldn’t care less about it?”

“I needed another elective. And…Kenma was the one who recommended it. Said it’d be an easy pass.”

“And you believed him?” Cue another round of your laughter.

He grumbled, off-screen for you but clearly pouting as he chose to ignore your question. No matter, his silence was answer enough.

With a mere shake of your head, you continued putting away dishes on your end. Kuroo, on the other hand, found himself stumbling upon something that perked him up instantly. After refreshing the feed for more mindless content, the user-handle he knew all too well showed itself like a beacon of hope, beckoning him with the promise of filling the next ten minutes with something way more interesting than…whatever this class was about.

@/FckIt22.

After the last fiasco with Bokuto, then later on Kenma, the ravenette contemplated blocking them. As golden as those situations were, something told him that deep down he could be next. But, it was days like this he was glad he didn’t. His boredom was becoming unbearable…and it was so tempting. What harm could it do to look at this one little upda—“HAH?!”

‘Tetsurou Kuroo. 6’2ft gentleman that you’d proudly take home to mom, and even get your father’s approval. With his charm and roguish good looks, it's no wonder his reputation screams 'playboy'. But, he can’t fool me. I know what he is. A whole SUB, no sandwich. I’m sure being as tall as he is, and how he carries himself, people automatically assume he’s a Dom. False. If you’re looking to be dominated, keep looking. Kuroo wants to be babied, told he’s a good boy, and edged until he nearly passes out. Definitely a little brat, but his hair defies gravity for a reason, PULL ON IT. Boss him around, take control, and watch him literally melt in your hands. 8/10 because he's also a stubborn mofo. Literally would pay to see this man cry from overstimulation ugh.’

Kuroo shot out of his seat, practically piercing right through the air of humdrum. He not only startled you, but the entire lecture hall including the professor. Comically slapping a hand over his mouth, Kuroo’s face immediately began to burn from not only his outburst but also at the fact that his karma came way sooner than he was prepared for...

He wanted nothing more than for the ceiling to collapse on him and him only.

“Tetsu?? Are you okay, what happened?? Hello??”

"U-Uh, I'll call you back." He squeaked, double-tapping his airpod to end the call.

The professor crossed his arms, "Mr. Tetsurou. I understand that my lecture may not be the most enjoyable part of your day, but I would appreciate it if you endured it for just," the professor checks his watch, "six more minutes. Is that alright with you?"

Before he could even open his mouth to give an excuse, a chorus of vibrations, dings, and whistles from various phones instantly made the business major shrivel up. Next thing he knew, what used to be a room full of the undead was now livelier than ever before. Kuroo could feel every single one of their searing gazes; like being an insect under a microscope.

"Bro, this you?" A student sitting behind him leaned forward, phone in hand as he shoved it in Kuroo's face. The picture stared back at him, smugly grinning and shirtless as he ironically thirst-trapped the camera. Out of all the pictures…

He internally cringed. "U-Uhh..."

"Please, everyone settle down, so we can continue-" The professor attempted to redirect focus, but he had already lost it way before all this happened. A few more students jumped straight into bombarding him with questions, eager to push for more info now that this supposed new side of him had been revealed.

“Whoa, how much of this is true??”

“Kuroo-san, I’ll happily baby you!~”

“Aw man, thought for sure you’d be the type to take control, not give it up. What a bummer. No offense.”

He absolutely took offense to that.

With no help from the professor, as he tried and failed to recollect everyone's attention, Kuroo thought of the next best course of action to get him out of this sticky situation. Jumping out a two-story window didn't sound so bad, and the broken bones would be a great distraction from the suffocating feeling of public humiliation.

In the midst of all the theories and queries being thrown at him from every angle, his phone went off multiple times. Mostly from you, but the rest were no doubt the groupchat clowning him once they caught wind of the news. The guys weren't gonna let him live this one down, that's for certain. And to make matters worse...he still had four long minutes left in the class.

He exhaled, "Should've blocked 'em when I had the chance..."

Gathering up his stuff, Kuroo used his long legs to evade the ever-growing crowd of prodding students, all most likely not even caring about the post itself, but more so just wanting to kill class time; he refused to be a scapegoat.

Marching right up to the professor, who gave up trying to round up the class, the rooster-head mustered up the most pathetic look possible to evoke sympathy outta the wrinkly man. "Hey, so uh… may I please be excused a little early for this one time, sir? I'd really hate to be such a distraction from your insightful lecture-"

"Just go, Mr. Tetsurou." Didn't need to tell him twice.

As soon as he made it to your dorm, you could imagine his shock that his friends were already there, waiting as if they knew he'd come running straight to you. You offered him a teasing grin, shrugging as you said, “They came for…emotional support.”

He didn't know if he was mortified or mortified—Yaku, Yamamoto, Bokuto, Akaashi, hell, even Kenma rolled out of bed, wrapped in a blanket burrito and all, just to see the look on his best friend's face. He grinned, sardonically, then patted the empty spot on the couch right next to him. "Welcome to the club. We've been expecting you."

Oh, he was definitely blocking that godforsaken list now. And finding a new elective.

#🍁wasabi #SHES FINALLY HERE #hq #hq!#hq!!#hq scenarios #hq smut #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu smut #hq hinata #hq bokuto #hq kuroo #the fuck-it list

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russellsppttemplates · 6 months

Text

I thought you didn't want to tell anyone (Charles Leclerc)

It appears that the Leclerc family is growing

Note: english is not my first language. I got this request from @myheartgoesvroom a good while ago and I finally had the time to write it!

my masterlist

Tw: mentions pregnancy symptoms, feeling sick, being bothered by warm temperatures/heat

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog

"Are we all ready to go?", Charles checked with everyone inside the jet, seeing the nods and Charlotte, Lorenzo's girlfriend shrug her shoulders, "I slept funny last night, it's just tiredness", she said, closing her eyes and resting her head against the seat, "I'm going to sleep for a little bit".

Charles told the pilot they were ready, sitting next to you in the three seater, his mother sitting next to you on the other end, "I hope you are all going to take this time to rest", Pascale looked at all of you, "if I see any of you checking work e-mails, I'll swat your phones myself", she chuckled, seeing Arthur shake his head and Charles grab your hand in his, "if I see you in your phone, I'm locking it", you threatened, "you need to rest, amour, this season has been pushing you too much", you mumbled, kissing his cheek as Carla started talking about something she had seen on the news.

When you arrived at the airport, it didn't take long until you were in the van that was taking you to the hotel you were staying in, "well, these are some winding roads", Carla said, opening the window to get a little bit of fresh air, "we're nearly there, miss", the driver smiled apologetically, "but it is true, these roads are not the the weak".

"I'm usually fine, but motion sickness is bothering me a lot today", she muttered, taking big and deep breaths as she looked out the window, "it's that one there right? Looks really good!".

The check in was done seamlessly and everyone was given a card key before you headed to the villa, the staff members that helped you with the luggage also explaining a few of the amenities and how the services worked for you since you were staying in a villa and not in the hotel building.

"We have to go see about the rental cars, and the boat, too", Charles put his hands on either of his brothers' shoulder, "which one of you guys want to come with me?".

"I'll join you, and we can stop by the supermarket to get some snacks, yes?", Pascale suggested, grabbing her bag as the boys grabbed their wallets, "do you need us to go?", Charlotte asked, "no need, chérie, they can go and get the cars and we'll do the shopping. Go rest for a little bit, yes?", Lorenzo said to his girlfriend, kissing her forehead and leaving the three of you to unpack.

"The rooms are all pretty identical. The suite is bigger and has a bigger balcony, but they all have a bathroom", Carla pointed out as she opened the door to exemplify, "it has a bigger bed, but Charles will sleep glued to me, it's not like a bigger bed would make much of a difference", you blushed, "so if any of you guys want it, go for it. Or we can leave it for Pascale", you suggested, seeing the other two girls nod and go to each of the smaller rooms, leaving the one closest to the suite to you and Charles.

The room was decorated in a minimalist way, tones of white, beige and light brown complimented by the sunlight coming from the window to the balcony. While the girls unpacked, the boys and Pascale got back and discussed the plans for dinner.

"I can get them to deliver the food to the door, no problem", Charles said as Charlotte admitted that she was hoping for an early night, her headache still bothering her, "we just have to set the table and they'll bring anything we want", he showed them the menu, "I'm not picky", you said, "but if they have that local dish, you know the one with the chicken we had last year in that restaurant? I'll have that", you said to your boyfriend, getting up and heading to the kitchen with his mother, hoping you'd be able to find all the cutlery, cups and plates that you needed.

When the food arrived, everyone helped set it up in the table, "I'm just going to wash my hand quickly and I'll be right back", Charles mumbled, kissing your cheek as he held out his hand that seemed to have some sauce on it.

The first full day began with a walk along the beach since you wanted to get to know the area and Charles didn't mind joining you, walking hand in hand along the wooden decking, "it's really warm today", you pointed out, fixing your cap and adjusting your sunglasses, "yes, last year wasn't so warm, right?", he said, "it's a good thing we always have the time and the opportunity to come here year after year, specially as a family.

"They won't say it out loud, but I know maman, Lorenzo and Arthur, and girls, too, they consider you family already. The guys specially, I think they've always considered you part of our family and Pascale Leclerc herself has never failed to mention how much you and I were made for eachother since I was old enough to understand what that meant", he kissed your knuckles.

"I'm very grateful for that, I'm very grateful for you", you whispered, almost like you were telling him a secret even though you made conscious effort to let him know how much you loved him and cherished him everyday, not wanting him to ever entertain the idea that you didn't feel those things towards him.

The walk was going well until the heat started getting to you, "can we go walk along the water, please?", you caught Charles' attention, "I think it's getting a bit too warm for me, I'm nearly tripping over my steps", you giggled as Charles pulled you to the warm sand, "do you want me to carry you? Get some water? Look, there's a bar", he pointed, walking with you to the beach bar and getting a bottle of water, "here, amour", he handed you the bottle.

"I think it's the heat", you blushed, "and I admit I could be more diligent about my water intake", you admitted, holding Charles' hand in yours and pulling him towards the water, the freshness from the water in your feet helping you cool down.

Walking back to join the rest of the group, you noticed Charlotte in the water with Lorenzo and Pascale while Carla and Arthur stayed in the sun loungers, "I see Charlotte is feeling better, that's good", you smiled, arranging your towell and laying down on it, "can you reapply my sun block, please?", you asked Charles since he was still up.

"Sure", he grabbed the spray bottle, rubbing the product on your skin, "and are you feeling better?", he asked, "I think my mother always has a hand fan with her, I can go a look for it in her bag", he offered.

"Are you feeling okay?", Carla checked, emphasising you, "I'm fine, just bothered by the heat, I was not made for these temperatures", you chuckled.

"Oh, I just remembered that really hot summer in Monaco where you had to stay inside because the heat outside made your face go tomato red in less than a minute!", Arthur teased you, "Hey!! I was about eleven, I was going through puberty and, like I said, I wasn't made for these temperatures", you added, "Carla, if you want to to hit your boyfriend for that one, you have my blessing".

By the time the rest of the group came back, lunch time was approaching and you made your way to the villa, deciding to make something for lunch since you had the fully equipped kitchen. The boys were on the grill and Pascale was seasoning the fish, "you have to make sure it's properly cooked", Lorenzo explained to his younger brothers, assertive that no raw fish would end up on the table, "do you guys need help? Y/N is just finishing the salad, Carla went upstairs and Charlotte also went up to wash the salt off of her skin".

"She's okay, right?", Arthur asked, the worry in his voice noticeable, "I think so, yes, she said something about cream for her shoulders, I think", Pascale quirked her brow, "her skin was slightly red when we walked back here", Charles pointed out, still not convincing his youngest brother as he walked upstairs to check on his girlfriend.

"I don't want that towell, I want this one", Carla stated, swapping the identical towells on top of the sun loungers after everyhting was tidied and you decided to spend the afternoon by the pool, "sure have that one", Arthur smiled charmingly, "do you want anything else?", he asked her, "I can go and get if for you", he said as he saw her negative nod, moving to the lounger next to her, "I'd like a beer, actually", Lorenzo called for him, "then you can get up and go get it yourself, brother".

After you arrived back from dinner, Charlotte went upstairs so she could rest, Lorenzo excusing them and wishing everyone a good night before they went up, leaving you, Charles, Arthur, Carla and Pascale in the outside area, sitting in the sofas as you talked about the plans for the next day, "are we still up for the boat?", Charles checked.

"Do you feel better?", Arthur asked his girlfriend, rubbing her shoulder, "yes, I told you it was just the road. I'm not used to winding roads like that, not all of us can be fine at all that speed and turns and bumps", she nudged her boyfriend, "are you sure? We can just sit it out", Arthur insisted, "I'm fine, Arthur, let me go on the boat with my favourites. You'll also be there, but that's a pain I have to deal with", she teased him.

By the time Pascale asked for your intake on something, you were already asleep, holding one of the pillows, "Oh, bless her", she smiled, catching Charles attention to your figure, "I should take her to bed", he stated, getting up and storing his phone on his pocket.

"How do I...", he mumbled to himself, trying to find the best way to move you to the bedroom without waking up, "you can just wake her up, Charles, like usual", Pascale noticed her son's dilemma, "she needs her rest, she's... she needs all the help she can get from now on", he said, sliding his arm around your back and the other under your knees, successfully holding you safely against him, "Good night everyone, see you tomorrow", Charles said lastly, heading to your bedroom.

When he laid you down on the bed, you stirred a little bit, opening your eyes, "hey, beautiful, I did my best not to wake you up", he cooed, softly touching your cheek, "you can go back to sleep, amour, here", he nodded, taking his t-shirt and shorts off before laying down next to you, pushing you to lay on his chest, "have a good sleep, my loves", he kissed the top of your head.

"Are you sure you're okay?", Arthur asked Carla again for what felt like the tenth time in the thirty minutes they had been on the boat, "if anything feels wrong, you tell me and we will go back to the port?", he nudged, "yes, amour, I will tell you", she told him, looking at you and silently questioning if you too thought this was a bit much, her quirked brow showing her own confusion, "he's just being caring, I guess? It would be worse if he didn't care about you", you reasoned, grabbing your bag and finding a spot to lay on.

"I have your water, amour, to make sure you actually drink more that the average for a little kid", Charles said, walking to meet you in the deck with two big bottles of water, "I have ice cold and room temperature, depending on how you're feeling", she smiled, sitting next to you and placing a tote bag down, "I also have snacks if you get peckish", he said, "we just had breakfast, Charles".

"I know, but of you get peckish, it's okay, it's normal, so you have your snacks here if you want them", he added, laying on his stomach as his arm wrapped your body near your waist, his hand rubbing small circles and shapes on your tummy.

"Lorenzo just called me to check if I was okay. Am I being inconsiderate if I think this is too much?", Charlotte confided with you, "don't look at me, Charles suggested I sit this paddle game out 'and take the opportunity to rest, amour', like that's not what I have been doing", you reasoned, seeing Carla walk in with a pharmacy paper bag, "Arthur asked someone from the reception to bring me this, and then he texted me saying that 'they're safe' for me. Isn't medicine safe anyway?", she took a box from the bag, "those are anti-sickness pills", Pascale recognised after reading the box.

"We all believe something is wrong with them, don't we?", Charlotte was the first to point it out, verbally you soon after found out, as Pascale shook her head as he laughed, "something has been wrong with them since this holiday started. I know I raised attentive boys, but neither of them have let either of you out of their sight, I mean, yesterday I heard Charles tell Y/N that he was going to use the bathroom and he would leave the door semi open so she could call him if she needed anything", Pascale offered, seeing you roll your eyes, "that was true, I was hoping no one heard it", you blushed, "no worries, the walls are not that thick, chérie, and Charles didn't exactly whisper either", she rubbed your shoulders.

"So they're treating us like we are made of porcelain and no one knows what is up with them?", Carla asked, "a couple of nights ago, Lorenzo told me he would wait until I was ready to tell him", Charlotte shrugged, "I just let it slide because I didn't know what he was talking about and, honestly, I was closer to dreamland than I was to here, so I didn't pay it too much attention".

"What would you tell him, though? And it seems like they haven't talked about whatever is going on between them either. Was it something they saw?", you reasoned.

"We have to try and think like they're thinking so we can figure out", Carla said, "a hard task at hand considering how they think", Pascale retorted.

"They've been very caring with us, more than usual, and it's each one of them with each one of us, and not with you", you pointed to Pascale, "do they think we're ill? We're not mad at them, right?", you looked over, "so, it's, like a health thing, something that requires changes in the long run and- Oh no", you pitched in, sure that if you were a cartoon, the light bulb would be lit up on top of your head.

"I think my card is not working properly, I'm going to the front desk to see if they can sort it out or give me a new one", you informed Charlotte and Carla as you closed the door before you. When you went to the front door to grab the towells one of the staff left there, you weren't quick enough and let the door close, and when you tried to ring your card in, it didn't work.

"I'm sorry for the inconvenience", the man at the front desk apoligised, "it's okay, these things happen. Thank you again, have a good day", you smiled at him, grabbing your new card and walking back to the villa.

The house had three big bedrooms, the suite, a big living area connecting the kitchen to the living room and the outside was even bigger. You had direct access to the patio where you had a big table and barbecue area, as well as a pool and a big garden with a small gate at the end that led to the beach. Overall, it was the perfect place for you to spend your holiday and you had been looking forward to spending time with family.

You were taking in the view and enjoying how the warm air surrounded you when you stumbled on someone, "I'm so sorry, are you okay?", you asked, looking at the whole situation and seeing a few games on the floor and a small box you recognised from the pharmacy.

"I'm good", a shaky voice said, "I'm sorry I ran into you, I have to admit I was distracted", a young woman around your age apoligised back to you, "I work with kids all day, why would I be so nervous to be pregnant?", she blurted.

Sensing her nerves, you thought you could help her, "do you need help with that? I'm pretty good in a crisis so I can be a sound mind of you want to", you attempted.

"Would you, actually? I really need to vent it all out", she cringed, "I'm staying right here, let me just tell the girls", you opened the door, "Carla! Charlotte!", you called, seeing them join you in the hall, "this is Ana", you introduced, "these are Carla and Charlotte, we are all dating brothers, different ones, I mean", you chuckled, "and Ana here could use our support because she has to take a pregnancy test", you smiled.

"It's very nice to meet you, you can use this bathroom, here", Charlotte said warmly as she opened the door of the bathroom by the stairs.

After reading the instructions, you left Ana to do her thing before she opened the door again, "so,", she smiled nervously, "is this your first time here?". "Yes, we've never been here. Last year we stayed somewhere else. So far, so good", Carla responded, "pardon my question, but are counting on a certain result?".

"My boyfriend and I have been together for a long time, and we've not been not trying, I guess?", she chuckled, "it's just nerve wracking you know? I work with kids, that's why I have all of those games, I work at the kid's club", she explained. The phone with the timer beeped, catching her attention and making you rub her back soothingly as she got it and read the results, "you're pregnant, Ana", you smiled.

"She must've put it in the trash and they saw it, let me check", you said as you walked to the bathroom, "there it is! She put it in the trash and they all saw it", you reasoned.

"Well, that surely explains a lot of it. I have seen Charles, particularly, dote on your like your a porcelain doll, but even these last few days were unusual for him", Pascale chuckled, "the way he helped you up the stairs? That's when it clicked for me that something was really different".

"Well, the things is that there's nothing different", you stated, "and Lorenzo and Arthur too, then!", you rubbed your temples, giggle alongside with the rest of the women in the room, "Pascale, with all due respect because you've raised these men impeccably, sometimes they're not the sharpest", Carla touched her shoulder, "should I be offended because I followed their train of thought?", you wondered.

When the boys arrived back from their paddle game, you and the rest of the group stayed in the living room as they headed up for showers, claiming you'd prefer to stay in for the night since you weren't feeling well, earning all of the three boys' approvals without further questions.

Charles was the first to come down, hair still wet as he walked to you, kissing your forehead, "do you need anything, amour?", he asked and acknowledged your negative answer, sitting next to you and cuddling you to his chest, "have you been feeling good today?", he brushed your hair and pulled it behind your ear. On your end, you were trying your best to keep a straight face, "yes, I'm fine, got all the rest I needed", you smiled, kissing his cheek and allowing him to place his hands under your top you were wearing and touch your tummy.

A little while later, Lorenzo walked dowstairs too, stopping by the kitchen to grab a bottle of water for him and another for Charlotte, checking if she was feeling better while Arthur also joined you in the living room.

"I'm just ordering dinner", Charles said as he typed on his phone screen, "they say they can put everything with eggs on the side and separately, and there are no raw ingredients, everything is washed and I-", he was interrupted by Carla's loud laugh.

"I'm sorry, I can't do it, not when I know where all of this is coming from", she continued as Charlottle broke down, too.

"What do you mean?", Charles said as the confusion on his face became clear, "Charles, amour, look at me", you called, "do you think there is something wrong with me? That my health status has changed?", you questioned honestly.

Charles fumbled with his words, "I mean, amour, I- do you want me to say it out loud or whisper in your ear? I didn't know of you wanted to tell anyone because you haven't told me either, and that's okay! But do I say it now?", he yelped, "you're pregnant, Y/N", he stated.

Arthur and Lorenzo got up as if on cue, both belting out "Y/N's pregnant, too?", before looking at their girlfriends and seeing their giggles, "you think the three of us are pregnant?". The brother's looked between them, "I saw the test in the trash bin, and Carla had just been in the bathroom, so I assumed we were having a baby", Arthur reasoned, "Charlotte hasn't been feeling well, it's her test", Lorenzo offered, "are we talking about the same test on that bathroom or has that bathroom been the 'pee on the stick and find out you're pregnant' Station?", Charles argued back.

Chuckling you got up and cupped Charles face with your hands, "it happened once and it's Ana's test", you smiled, "the girl from the kid's club. She was scared to take it and we gave her some support, that's all", you smiled, "no one's pregnant here", you finally said.

The boys made a collective "oh" noise until Arthur spoke, "you were not feeling well and I just thought that it was yours", he said to Carla, accepting her hug, "same goes to you, you kept saying the food tasted funny and I connected the dots, that apparently weren't so clear", Lorenzo said to Carla.

Charles had shifted on his feet a couple of times before he turned to you, "I thought you didn't want to tell anyone, that's why I didn't say anything. If you did not feel comfortable in telling it, it was because you wanted privacy and I respected that. I thought you'd eventually announce it when you were ready so I didn't push for it either, I just wanted to be there", he admitted. You kissed his jaw soflty, "well, there's no baby in here, the test does not belong to any of us".

"It's a good thing to know, though. Whenever the time comes, I'm having enough grandchildren to spoil to my heart's content", Pascale clapped, getting up and heading to the outside area, "Oh, look at that sunset, it's beautiful!".

"So, no baby...", Charles trailed off, holding your hands in his, "I have to admit that, in a way, I'm relieved, because that would change up our lives a lot, especially with three babies in the family", he chuckled, "but when things are more settled, in a few years surely, we can start our family if you want to", he smiled charmingly, "of course, whenever the time comes. I love you, Charles, I love you so much", you smiled, "but, please, whenever that happens, don't coddle me like I'm a porcelain doll", you attempted, "Oh, that will have a to be another negotiation I'm afraid, amour".

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