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#they were supposed to come spend a couple days at my place
smol-soop-spoon · 3 months
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canceling plans is fine and welcome except when it's one of your Favourite People who cancels and then it's just The Dread
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Fandom can do a little gatekeeping. As a treat.
So I finally decided to archive-lock my fics on AO3 last night. I’ve been considering it since the AI scrape last year, but the tipping point was this whole lore.fm debacle, coupled with some thoughts I’ve been thinking regarding Fandom These Days in general and Fandom As A Community in particular. So I wanna explain why I waited so long, why I locked my stuff up now, and why I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m a-okay with making it harder for people to see my stories.
Lurkers really are great, tho
I’m a chronic lurker, and have been since I started hanging out on the internet as a teen in the 00s. These days it’s just cuz I don’t feel a need to socialize very often, but back then it was because I was shy and knew I was socially awkward. Even if I made an account, I’d spend months lurking on message boards or forums or Livejournals, watching other people interact and getting a feel for that particular community’s culture and etiquette before I finally started interacting myself. And y’know, that approach saved me a lot of embarrassment. Over the course of my lurking on any site, there was always some other person who’d clearly joined up five minutes after learning the place existed, barged in without a care for their behavior, and committed so many social faux pas that all the other users were immediately annoyed with them at best. I learned a lot observing those incidents. Lurk More is Rule 33 of the internet for very good reason.
Lurking isn’t bad or weird or creepy. It’s perfectly normal. I love lurking. It’s hard for me to not lurk - socializing takes a lot of energy out of me, even via text. (Heck it took 12 hours for me to write this post, I wish I was kidding--) Occasionally I’ll manage longer bouts of interaction - a few weeks posting here, almost a year chatting in a discord there - but I’m always gonna end up going radio silent for months at some point. I used to feel bad about it, but I’ve long since made peace with the fact that it’s just the way my brain works. I’m a chronic lurker, and in the long term nothing is going to change that.
The thing with being a chronic lurker is that you have to accept that you are not actually seen as part of the community you are lurking in. That’s not to say that lurkers are unimportant - lurkers actually are important, and they make up a large proportion of any online community - but it’s simple cause and effect. You may think of it as “your community”, but if you’ve never said a word, how is the community supposed to know you exist? If I lurked on someone’s LJ, and then that person suddenly friendslocked their blog, I knew that I had two choices: Either accept that I would never be able to read their posts again, or reach out to them and ask if I could be added to their friends list with the full understanding that I was a rando they might not decide to trust. I usually went with the first option, because my invisibility as a lurker was more important to me than talking to strangers on the internet.
Lurking is like sitting on a park bench, quietly people-watching and eavesdropping on the conversations other people are having around you. You’re in the park, but you’re not actively participating in anything happening there. You can see and hear things that you become very interested in! But if you don’t introduce yourself and become part of the conversation, you won’t be able to keep listening to it when those people walk away. When fandom migrated away from Livejournal, people moved to new platforms alongside their friends, but lurkers were often left behind. No one knew they existed, so they weren’t told where everyone else was going. To be seen as part of a fandom community, you need to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known, etc. etc.
There’s nothing wrong with lurking. There can actually be benefits to lurking, both for the lurkers and the communities they lurk in. It’s just another way to be in a fandom. But if that is how you exist in fandom--and remember, I say this as someone who often does exist that way in fandom--you need to remember that you’re on the outside looking in, and the curtains can always close.
I’ve always been super sympathetic to lurkers, because I am one. I know there’s a lot of people like me who just don’t socialize often. I know there’s plenty of reasons why someone might not make an account on the internet - maybe they’re nervous, maybe they’re young and their parents don’t allow them to, maybe they’re in a bad situation where someone is monitoring their activity, maybe they can only access the internet from public computer terminals. Heck, I’ve never even logged into AO3 on my phone--if I’m away from my computer I just read what’s publicly available. 
I know I have people lurking on my fics. I know my fics probably mean a lot to someone I don’t even know exists. I know this because there are plenty of fics I love whose writers don’t know I exist.
I love my commenters personally; I love my lurkers as an abstract concept. I know they’re there and I wish them well, and if they ever de-lurk I love them all the more.
So up until last year I never considered archive-locking my fic, because I get it. The AI scraping was upsetting, but I still hesitated because I was thinking of lurkers and guests and remembering what it felt like to be 15 and wondering if it’d be worth letting a stranger on the internet know I existed and asking to be added to their friends list just so I could reread a funny post they made once.
But the internet has changed a lot since the 00s, and fandom has changed with it. I’ve read some things and been doing some thinking about fandom-as-community over the last few years, and reading through the lore.fm drama made me decide that it’s time for me to set some boundaries.
I still love my lurkers, and I feel bad about leaving any guest commenters behind, especially if they’re in a situation where they can’t make an account for some reason. But from here on out, even my lurkers are going to have to do the bare minimum to read my fics--make an AO3 account.
Should we gatekeep fandom?
I’ve seen a few people ask this question, usually rhetorically, sometimes as a joke, always with a bit of seriousness. And I think…yeah, maybe we should. Except wait, no, not like that--
A decade ago, when people talked about fandom gatekeeping and why it was bad to do, it intersected with a lot of other things, mainly feminism and classism. The prevalent image of fandom gatekeeping was, like, a man learning that a woman likes Star Wars and haughtily demanding, “Oh, yeah? Well if you’re REALLY a fan, name ten EU novels” to belittle and dismiss her, expecting that a “real fan” would have the money and time to be familiar with the EU, and ignoring the fact that male movie-only fans were still considered fans. The thing being gatekept was the very definition of “being a fan” and people’s right to describe themselves as one.
That’s not what I mean when I say maybe fandom should gatekeep more. Anyone can call themselves a fan if they like something, that’s fine. But when it comes to the ability to enjoy the fanworks produced by the fandom community…that might be something worth gatekeeping.
See, back in the 00s, it was perfectly common for people to just…not go on the internet. Surfing the web was a thing, but it was just, like, a fun pastime. Not everyone did it. It wasn’t until the rise of social media that going online became a thing everyone and their grandmother did every day. Back then, going on the internet was just…a hobby.
So one of the first gates online fandom ever had was the simple fact that the entire world wasn’t here yet.
The entire world is here now. That gate has been demolished.
And it’s a lot easier to find us now. Even scattered across platforms, fandom is so centralized these days. It isn’t a network of dedicated webshrines and forums that you can only find via webrings anymore, it’s right there on all the big social media sites. AO3 didn’t set out to be the main fanfic website, but that’s definitely what it’s become. It’s easy for people to find us--and that includes people who don’t care about the community, and just want “content.”
Transformative fandom doesn’t like it when people see our fanworks as “content”. “Content” is a pretty broad term, but when fandom uses it we’re usually referring to creative works that are churned out by content creators to be consumed by an audience as quickly as possible as often as possible so that the content creator can generate revenue. This not-so-new normal has caused a massive shift in how people who are new to fandom view fanworks--instead of seeing fic or art as something a fellow fan made and shared with you, they see fanworks as products to be consumed.
Transformative fandom has, in general, always been a gift economy. We put time and effort into creating fanworks that we share with our fellow fans for free. We do this so we don’t get sued, but fandom as a whole actually gets a lot out of the gift economy. Offer your community a story, and in return you can get comments, build friendships, or inspire other people to write things that you might want to read. Readers are given the gift of free stories to read and enjoy, and while lurking is fine, they have the choice to engage with the writer and other readers by leaving comments or making reclists to help build the community.
And look, don’t get me wrong. People have never engaged with fanfic as much as fan writers wish they would. There has always been “no one comments anymore” wank. There have always been people who only comment to say “MORE!” or otherwise demand or guilt trip writers into posting the next chapter. But fandom has always agreed that those commenters are rude and annoying, and as those commenters navigate fandom they have the chance to learn proper community etiquette.
However, now it seems that a lot of the people who are consuming fanworks aren’t actually in the community. 
I won’t say “they aren’t real fans” because that’s silly; there’s lots of ways to be a fan. But there seem to be a lot of fans now who have no interest in fandom as a community, or in adhering to community etiquette, or in respecting the gift economy. They consume our fics, but they don’t appreciate fan labor. They want our “content”, but they don’t respect our control over our creations.
And even worse--they see us as a resource. We share our work for free, as a gift, but all they see is an open-source content farm waiting to be tapped into. We shared it for free, so clearly they can do whatever they want with it. Why should we care if they feed our work into AI training datasets, or copy/paste our unfinished stories into ChatGPT to get an ending, or charge people for an unnecessary third-party AO3 app, or sell fanbindings on etsy for a profit without the author’s permission, or turn our stories into poor imitations of podfics to be posted on other platforms without giving us credit or asking our consent, while also using it to lure in people they can datascrape for their Forbes 30 Under 30 company? 
And sure, people have been doing shady things with other people’s fanworks since forever. Art theft and reposting has always been a big problem. Fanfic is harder to flat-out repost, but I’ve heard of unauthorized fic translations getting posted without crediting the original author. Once in…I think the 2010s? I read a post by a woman who had gone to some sort of local bookselling event, only to find that the man selling “his” novel had actually self-published her fanfic. (Wish I could find that one again, I don’t even remember where I read it.)
But aside from that third example, the thing is…as awful as fanart/writing theft is, back in the day, the main thing a thief would gain from it was clout. Clout that should rightfully go to the creators who gifted their work in the first place, yeah, but still. Just clout. People will do a lot of hurtful things for clout, but fandom clout means nothing outside of fandom. Fandom clout is not enough to incentivize the sort of wide-scale pillaging we’re seeing from community outsiders today.
Money, on the other hand… Well, fandom’s just a giant, untapped content farm, isn’t it? Think of how much revenue all that content could generate.
Lurkers are a normal and even beneficial part of any online community. Maybe one day they’ll de-lurk and easily slide into place beside their fellow fans because they already know the etiquette. Maybe they’re active in another community, and they can spread information from the community they lurk in to the community they’re active in. At the very least, they silently observe, and even if they’re not active community members, they understand the community.
Fans who see fanworks as “content” don’t belong in the same category as lurkers. They’re tourists. 
While reading through the initial Reddit thread on the lore.fm situation, I found this comment:
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[ID: Reddit User Cabbitowo says: ... So in anime fandoms we have a word called tourist and essentially it means a fan of a few anime and doesn't care about anime tropes and actively criticizes them. This is kind of how fandoms on tiktok feel. They're touring fanfics and fanart and actively criticizes tropes that have been in the fandom since the 60s. They want to be in a fandom but they don't want to engage in fandom 
OP totallymandy responds: Just entered back into Reddit after a long day to see this most recent reply. And as a fellow anime fan this making me laugh so much since it’s true! But it sorta hurts too when the reality sets in. Modern fandom is so entitled and bratty and you’d think it’s the minors only but that’s not even true, my age-mates and older seem to be like that. They want to eat their cake and complain all whilst bringing nothing to the potluck… :/ END ID]
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“Tourist” is an apt name for this sort of fan. They don’t want to be part of our community, and they don’t have to be in order to come into our spaces and consume our work. Even if they don’t steal our work themselves, they feel so entitled to it that they’re fine with ignoring our wishes and letting other people take it to make AI “podfics” for them to listen to (there are a lot of comments on lore.fm’s shutdown announcement video from people telling them to just ignore the writers and do it anyway). They’ll use AI to generate an ending to an unfinished fic because they don’t care about seeing “the ending this writer would have given to the story they were telling”, they just want “an ending”. For these tourist fans, the ends justify the means, and their end goal is content for them to consume, with no care for the community that created it for them in the first place.
I don’t think this is confined to a specific age group. This isn’t “13-year-olds on Wattpad” or “Zoomers on TikTok” or whatever pointless generation war we’re in now. This is coming from people who are new to fandom, whose main experience with creative works on the internet is this new content culture and who don’t understand fandom as a community. That description can be true of someone from any age group.
It’s so easy to find fandom these days. It is, in fact, too easy. Newcomers face no hurdles or challenges that would encourage them to lurk and observe a bit before engaging, and it’s easy for people who would otherwise move on and leave us alone to start making trouble. From tourist fans to content entrepreneurs to random people who just want to gawk, it’s so easy for people who don’t care about the fandom community to reap all of its fruits. 
So when I say maybe fandom should start gatekeeping a bit, I’m referring to the fact that we barely even have a gate anymore. Everyone is on the internet now; the entire world can find us, and they don’t need to bother learning community etiquette when they do. Before, we were protected by the fact that fandom was considered weird and most people didn’t look at it twice. Now, fandom is pretty mainstream. People who never would’ve bothered with it before are now comfortable strolling in like they own the place. They have no regard for the fandom community, they don’t understand it, and they don’t want to. They want to treat it just like the rest of the content they consume online.
And then they’re surprised when those of us who understand fandom culture get upset. Fanworks have existed far longer than the algorithmic internet’s content. Fanworks existed long before the internet. We’ve lived like this for ages and we like it.
So if someone can’t be bothered to respect fandom as a community, I don’t see why I should give them easy access to my fics.
Think of it like a garden gate
When I interact with commenters on my fic, I have this sense of hospitality.
The comment section is my front porch. The fic is my garden. I created my garden because I really wanted to, and I’m proud of it, and I’m happy to share it with other people. 
Lots of people enjoy looking at my garden. Many walk through without saying anything. Some stop to leave kudos. Some recommend my garden to their friends. And some people take the time to stop by my front porch and let me know what a beautiful garden it is and how much they’ve enjoyed it. 
Any fic writer can tell you that getting comments is an incredible feeling. I always try to answer all my comments. I don’t always manage it, but my fics’ comment sections are the one place that I manage to consistently socialize in fandom. When I respond to a comment, it feels like I’m pouring out a glass of lemonade to share with this lovely commenter on my front porch, a thank you for their thank you. We take a moment to admire my garden together, and then I see them out. The next time they drop by, I recognize them and am happy to pour another glass of lemonade.
My garden has always been open and easy to access. No fences, no walls. You just have to know where to find it. Fandom in general was once protected by its own obscurity, an out-of-the-way town that showed up on maps but was usually ignored.
But now there’s a highway that makes it easy to get to, and we have all these out-of-towner tourists coming in to gawk and steal our lawn ornaments and wonder if they can use the place to make themselves some money.
I don’t care to have those types trampling over my garden and eating all my vegetables and digging up my flowers to repot and sell, so I’ve put up a wall. It has a gate that visitors can get through if they just take the time to open it.
Admittedly, it’s a small obstacle. But when I share my fics, I share them as a gift with my fellow fans, the ones who understand that fandom is a community, even if they’re lurkers. As for tourist fans and entrepreneurs who see fic as content, who have no qualms ignoring the writer’s wishes, who refuse to respect or understand the fandom community…well, they’re not the people I mean to share my fic with, so I have no issues locking them out. If they want access to my stories, they’ll have to do the bare minimum to become a community member and join the AO3 invite queue.
And y’know, I’ve said a lot about fandom and community here, and I just want to say, I hope it’s not intimidating. When I was younger, talk about The Fandom Community made me feel insecure, and I didn’t think I’d ever manage to be active enough in fandom spaces to be counted as A Member Of The Community. But you don’t have to be a social butterfly to participate in fandom. I’ll always and forever be a chronic lurker, I reblog more than I post, I rarely manage to comment on fic, and I go radio silent for months at a time--but I write and post fanfiction. That’s my contribution.
Do you write, draw, vid, gif, or otherwise create? Congrats, you're a community member.
Do you leave comments? Congrats, you're a community member.
Do you curate reclists? Congrats, you're a community member.
Do you maintain a fandom blog or fuckyeah blog? Congrats, you're a community member.
Do you provide a space for other fans to convene in? Congrats, you're a community member.
Do you regularly send asks (off anon so people know who you are)? Congrats, you're a community member.
Do you have fandom friends who you interact with? Congrats, you're a community member.
There’s lots of ways to be a fan. Just make sure to respect and appreciate your fellow fans and the work they put in for you to enjoy and the gift economy fandom culture that keeps this community going.
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muchosbesitos · 6 months
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Every day I wake up and want Miguel O’Hara, a man who can cherish me with all my heart but also fuck my brains and yk what so hard to the point it’s mush /j
That aside, I’d looove to see jealous Miggy railing the shit out of Y/N all bc an old classmate from high school/uni was all being handsy and Miguel didn’t like that bc he didn’t get the hint 😏
celoso
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pairing: miguel o’hara x fem reader
contents: situationship, jealousy, mentions of verbal abuse, reader gets pinned against wall, semi-public sex, oral (m receiving), fingering, biting, marking, unprotected p in v (be safe 🤨🤨), doggy, brief choking, spanking
a/n: so i was thinking of making this into a relationship fic buttt my hand slipped (whoops)
word count: 4.3K
"Wey, you're gonna end up breaking that cup."
Miguel looked down at the glass of champagne he was holding, his knuckles starting to turn white from how forcefully he was holding it. He couldn't help it though, especially with the way Flash wrapped his hand around your waist while he made you laugh. "Not like they don't have more cups," he responded, looking back over to his brother who had a knowing smile on his face. "I don't get it, you both like each other so why not pursue something?" Gabriel asked him, the same question that had been tormenting Miguel these last couple weeks.
The only reason that Miguel had even agreed to come back to the reunion was because of the way that you looked at him, clearly excited to see how everyone's life had been going so far. He didn't care that much about the people that used him for test answers but he wouldn't miss the opportunity to spend some time with you. "We wouldn't be seen together but as long as the two of us know we're there together then who really cares?" You had told him, his plans wrecked by the bomb you'd dropped. He ended up going to the event regardless because no matter how hard he tried, he could never find it in him to deny you anything.
Flashing disco lights mixed with the loud music was supposed to provide an ambiance full of enjoyment but it did nothing more than just torment Miguel. He hated the fact that his eyes seemed to find you in every room you were in without putting in much effort like a siren capturing its prey. All the event did was remind him that he no right to be feeling possessive over you, that he had no authority to be feeling jealous at some other man having his hands all over you.
He knew that you didn't want to pursue a relationship, but he couldn't help the feelings that he'd developed towards you. So in attempt just to have you present in his life, he'd agreed to keep this no-strings fling with you. The lines kept blurring every so often though, with the two of you going on dates and being each other's confidant. He was moderately happy with the arrangement that the two of you shared, but seeing you getting so comfortable with another man made him wish that he had the balls to ask you for something more.
"We're both fine with the no-strings thing we have going on," Miguel told him, loosening his grip on the cup before taking a sip. Gabriel raised a brow as he reached over to grab a champagne glass from the table. "Ya estas muy viejo para andar con estas mamadas," Gabriel retorted, standing next to him as he patted him on the shoulder. (you’re too old to be doing this shit) "Ni tan viejo, solo 27," he grumbled, his brows furrowing even further as he saw you place your hand on Flash's shoulder. (not that old, just 27) "There's people here who are already married," Gabriel offered, letting out a laugh as Miguel’s scowl deepened further.
You were talking with some friends in the middle of the gymnasium floor, trying to avoid eye contact with Miguel as your friends tried to recognize the people around them. "Wow, he's so tall and hot," Sasha, your friend, pointed out and you didn't even have to turn around to know she was referring to Miguel. "Isn't that the guy who used to wear those stupid glasses? I think his name was Manuel or something," your other friend, Jenna, remarked once she stopped kissing her boyfriend long enough to see who you were all talking about. You bit on the inside of your cheek to avoid correcting her, not wanting to drag any suspicion to yourself.
You listened to your friends talking as they excluded you from the conversation, wondering why you even put up with them back in uni. You excused yourself though you weren't sure if anyone really cared about your absence and headed to the bathroom. You were about to enter when you suddenly felt a strong grip on your arm, turning around to be faced with Flash. "Why'd you leave so early, pretty girl?" He asked you, his mouth reeking from the vodka he'd been drinking all night. "I just need to fix my makeup," you responded, trying to get him to loosen his grip but he pushed you against the wall.
"I've been thinking.. we were really good during university so what do you say if we rekindle that flame?" He asked, clearly oblivious to the fear sparking up in your eyes. "Dude, get off me. you're hurting my arm," you tried to plead with him but the grip around you only intensified. He leaned into kiss you, your knee hitting him in the groin once he got close to you. "STUPID WHORE!" He screamed after you ran away from him. You weren't too focused on where you were going, just making the effort to get away from him as much as possible.
You didn't realize you'd bumped into someone, your eyes flickering up to meet Miguel’s red ones. "What's wrong?" He questioned, his gaze softening a bit as he looked down at you. "Oh thank goodness I found you," you mumbled, just burying your head in his chest without caring who was around. His hand came to hold yours, only stopping when he felt you flinch underneath. "Who did this to you?" you could tell that he was trying to remain calm as he asked that question, some venom still managing to seep through. "Flash Thompson," you responded, holding his arm before he had the chance to storm off.
"Can you just stay with me, please?" You asked him, tears brimming on your waterline. He let out a small sigh, almost like he was conflicted but he nodded and went with you to the football field. The two of you sat on the stands, sounds of cicadas around filling up the silence. You leaned against Miguel’s shoulder, finding comfort in just being around him despite the rough facade that he'd built for himself. His arm wrapped around your shoulder, seemingly wanting to keep you away from any further danger that would come.
"It's so stupid, I actually thought that he was an okay partner during our time in university. Like sure, he was verbally abusive towards me but he was nice during these short periods of time," you spoke out, feeling Miguel’s eyes bore into you as you did. "Is that why you're so avoidant on being in a relationship?" He asked you, his hand tracing small circles on your shoulder. You took a couple seconds to think about his question, wondering if Flash had really had that much of an effect on you and your future relationships. "It's part of the reason why, I think seeing everyone around me in unhealthy relationships kind of set in stone for me."
"I don't think it's wrong what you're doing, but are you sure you're not closing off opportunities just because of that fear?" He inquired, his hand coming down to your waist as he held you close to him. The truth was that you did allow yourself to wonder about the 'what-ifs' but they always ended up in the worst result. "I just don't see the whole point of putting myself through the pain of being in a relationship, y'know? Plus, you're pretty good company," you responded, flashing a small smile towards him.
Miguel didn't say anything, but he didn't need to in that moment. All you were looking for was for someone to hold you, to make you feel like you were okay again. You got up when you heard your phone buzzing, a message from your friend asking to come back to the party. "I'll come meet you later tonight," you told Miguel before you left, leaning over to press your lips against his cheek. You couldn't help but feel butterflies in your stomach as you saw your lipstick mark on him, practically marking him as yours. "Don't think I forgot about all those little touches by the way!" He yelled after you, a small chuckle escaping from his lips while he waited for you to leave.
You walked back into the party, seeing your friends still standing in their spot without Flash. You grabbed yourself a drink from a table nearby, listening in to the conversation happening around you. You let out the small occasional 'hm' and 'mhm' in response to their conversation, not willing yourself to feign more interest than that. If your friends had noticed something off, they hadn't bothered to mention it. Your eyes glanced over to Gabriel, seeing that Miguel still hadn't come back from the field. You found yourself growing a bit worried for him, taking a sip from your soda to try to calm down.
Miguel saw Flash as he walking back from the football field, unable to hold himself back the longer he looked at him. As Miguel approached him, he could tell that his frame clearly overpowered his, but Flash still tried to pretend like he was the one in power of this situation. "What the hell do you want, nerd?" Flash asked him, speaking to him like he didn't matter much more than the dirt below his feet. "What I want is for you not to put a hand on her again," Miguel spoke calmly, despite the storm that was brewing up inside him. "And if I don't?"
The whole thing had happened in a blur, one minute Flash was laughing in face and calling him a nerd and the other he was on the floor screaming for help. Miguel had to mentally restrain himself as he punched him, his fist leaving Flash with a crooked and bloody nose. "That's what happens if you don't," Miguel responded, wiping away the blood on his handkerchief before walking away. He stepped away into the restroom, his hand throbbing as he washed away the blood flash leaked onto his hand. Your concern for Miguel was quickly replaced with shock when Flash came into the gymnasium, blood spilling onto the white shirt he had on.
You’d almost missed Miguel walking in behind him as he tried his best to blend into the shadows while he walked back to Gabriel. Your attention was brought back to the group when they let out a collective gasp once they noticed Flash walking over. "What the hell happened to you?" Sasha asked him, a tone of amusement in her voice as she spoke. "Bumped into a door," he responded, grabbing some ice from the bowl nearby and placing them into a napkin. You noticed he kept his distance from you this time, giving you only the occasional dirty look.
Gabriel looked up from his phone to look up at Miguel, taking a look at his throbbing hand. "Don't ask," Miguel grumbled, placing an ice cold soda against his knuckles. "Wasn't going to. How's the other guy doing?" Gabriel asked before he looked over where Miguel was staring, noticing Flash's bloody nose. He let out a small hiss as a response, clapping Miguel’s shoulder. "Well at least he looks worse than you. I was gonna text you after you abandoned me, met some girl that wanted to dance with me," Gabriel spoke before leaving Miguel alone in the shadows.
You watched as Jenna danced with gabriel, despite the fact that her boyfriend had only just left the event. The group decided to join her on the dance floor and so you did the same, dancing to the rhythm of the song that was playing. Your eyes met Miguel’s as you danced, your hips moving sensually to the rhythm of the song. You could feel other people staring at you and the way that you moved, but your eyes couldn't leave Miguel’s no matter how hard you willed yourself to try. His stone cold facade broke down when he clenched his fists by his sides, a clear sign that you were affecting him.
You looked at him as he pulled his phone out, his thumbs rushing across the keyboard as he tried to write the words out to the best of his ability. You felt a buzz in your purse, seeing a text message from Miguel to meet him in the restroom. You placed your phone back in your purse, taking a small gulp as you walked into the restroom after him. "Second stall," he spoke up once he heard the door close, your heels clicking across the bathroom floor while you walked to him. "What if that'd been someone else?" You teased him as you walked into the stall, closing it immediately to avoid getting caught.
The words soon enough died in your throat as Miguel unbuttoned his pants, his cock hard under his boxers. "You see what you do to me, beautiful? Couldn't stand all those others staring at what's mine," he told you, bringing your face up to his as he kissed you. The kiss was rough, like he was just desperate to get a taste of you. His mouth travelled down to your throat, leaving a small mark on the side of your neck. "You're all mine," he whispered, his touch featherlight as he kissed your neck. You got down on your knees, palming his cock through the boxers.
You slid them off, his cock hitting his stomach once it was released from its confines. You wrapped one of your hands around it, starting to stroke him as your mouth went towards his thighs. You left small kisses on his thigh, making your way up to his cock. You placed a small kiss on the tip of his cock, your lipstick leaving a mark as you did. You opened up your mouth, swirling your tongue around the reddened head with your eyes locked straight on his. His hand came back to the back of your head, holding you in place as you got started.
You took more of his cock in your mouth, never growing quite adjusted to the size of him. Your cheeks hollowed as you made your way down his shaft, your tongue running down the underside of his cock. His hips bucked forward, your gags filling up the empty bathroom. "So pretty, all stuffed with cock like that," he murmured, your eyes watering slightly as you tried to control the tears streaming down from your cheeks. Your hand wrapped around the base, pumping what your mouth couldn't reach and the other one went to play with his balls. You held his heavy balls in your hand, tugging them slightly and massaging them in your grasp.
"Oh fuuuck, just like that," he moaned quietly, soft groans erupting from his chest as you continued to suck on his cock. You pulled away, spitting on the tip while the liquid travelled downward. Your grip on the base tightened as you moved your hand up and down his cock, looking up at him in anticipation. You brought your mouth back to his cock, your lipstick smeared across and your mascara dripping down your cheeks. "Tan hermosa que eres," he groaned as he felt your tongue running along the underside of his tip, the sight of him looking so disheveled making your panties wetter by the second. (you’re so beautiful)
You felt your pussy clench around nothing as you sucked him off, your panties damp from how much you were affected by this. You felt his legs shaking underneath you, his groans becoming louder as he approached his orgasm. "Where do you want it?" He asked, his voice cracking a bit from the sensation he was feeling. You opened up your mouth, sticking your tongue out as your hand pumped him at the same rate you were going beforehand. "Just like that, don't stop," he told you, biting into his hand as he approached his orgasm. White ropes of cum filled up your mouth, some of it landing on your cheeks and chin.
"I look horrible," you noticed as you looked at yourself in the mirror, your lipstick barely clinging on. "Well I think you look pretty," Miguel responded, wrapping his arms around your waist as he peppered your neck with more kisses. You wiped away at the mascara dripping down from your cheeks, deciding to give up on that aspect and just fix up your lipstick. You couldn't help but let out a chuckle as you saw the mark on miguel's lips, handing him a piece of tissue paper to clean up.
Once the two of you had fixed up the slightest bit, you left at separate times. You waited for Miguel to text you the okay before leaving the bathroom, walking back over to your friends. "What's up with you? You keep disappearing," Jenna pointed out once you came back, the darkness of the gym hiding away the hickey blooming on the side of your neck. So much for them not noticing your absence.
"Just drank a little too much soda," you responded, keeping your voice even so they wouldn't notice your little fib. You looked around, noticing that Gabriel was standing off to the side once more. "What happened to dancing with him?" You decided to change the subject, receiving a small shrug in response. "I don't know, he's too sweet? His brother, though, definitely looks like he's a freak in the sheets," she pointed out and you couldn't help but feel a bit of possessiveness over Miguel. You decided to ignore her little comment, letting her go back to talking with the rest of the group.
Miguel walked back over to Gabriel, finding him sulking alone in the shadows. "It's funny, almost every girl I've been with chooses you for some reason despite the fact that you're an asshole," Gabriel spoke up, Miguel’s chest tightening up a bit as he spoke. He'd never meant to make his brother feel inferior, never meant to make him feel like he was something less. "The girl you were dancing with had a boyfriend so I wouldn't wallow too much over that," Miguel responded, approaching Gabriel slowly. "Yeah, you're probably right," he responded with a small sigh, still feeling down.
Soon enough, another woman had approached Gabriel and asked him for a coffee, without offering Miguel as much as a second glance. Miguel looked down at his phone, checking the time on his phone before walking out of the gym. You came out right after he did, stepping side by side with him. "How's your brother doing? Jenna’s kind of.. a lot so I’m sorry," you spoke up first, looking up at Miguel. "He's alright, he found someone else to get over it. How do you feel about getting back to my place?"
On the drive back home, you couldn't help but feel aroused at the sight of him behind the wheel. He just drove so eloquently, his muscles flexing in the thin button down he had on with every movement that he made. You spread your legs, noticing Miguel looking at you through the corner of his eye. You tentatively played with your folds through the thin material of your panties, looking over at Miguel as he struggled to maintain his composure. "It's like you want me to crash, little minx," he muttered, looking straight at the road. You took off your panties slowly, bringing your fingers up to Miguel’s mouth.
He wrapped his mouth around them as he kept his attention on the road, covering them in his spit. You brought them back into your weeping hole, sticking them in. You started off slow, your slick combining with his spit each time you pushed them inside. Miguel’s hand around the steering wheel tightened, letting out a grunt as he heard the squelch from your pussy. You began rocking your pelvis against your hand, riding your two fingers as soft moans escaped from your lips. Miguel brought his other hand towards your clit, rubbing the nub as he continued to drive across the empty streets.
Just as you were about to cum, Miguel pulled his hand away despite your protests. "You'll only be coming around my cock, understand?" He told you, the car coming to a stop. You looked around, noticing that the two of you had arrived to his penthouse. You felt your pussy clench up at his promise, your shaky feet barely taking you out of his car. Without a word, miguel picked you up with ease and locked up the car before taking you inside.
The two of you had barely gotten through the door when Miguel started kissing you, his mouth engulfing around yours like he was afraid you'd go away. "We should go to the bedroom, yeah?" You suggested to him in between kisses, his hand grabbing yours as he led you up the stairs. The minute the two of you had made it back to the bedroom, his lips were back on yours as his tongue explored every inch of your mouth like it was the first time doing so.
He wasted no time in zipping down your dress and taking off his clothes, a pile quickly building up underneath the two of you. "Get down on your hands and knees," he told you, your body obliging almost immediately. His hand rubbed the globe of your ass cheek, a sharp smack taking all the breath from your lungs. "I want you to count for the amount of times he had his hands on you," he spoke, his hand gently soothing the sting from the previous slap. "Okay!" You exclaimed, letting out a moan as his hand came down to smack your ass once more. "One!"
The process continued for four more times, Miguel’s hands gripping your hips as he pushed his cock inside of you. "You only belong to me, I don't care if it's official to you or not, it is to me," he spoke, a small grunt escaping from his lips as he felt your pussy clench around him. No matter how many times he'd fucked you, the process was still a stretch every time. You gripped onto the pillow below you tightly, his cock moving inside of you slightly as he tried to fit in.
He retracted his cock, slamming into you in sharp thrust. "All mine, understand?" He told you, leaning in slightly as his chest hit your back. "All yours!" You responded, the words not feeling like something you were just saying in the moment. The grip around your waist tightened, his cock retracting out of your pussy much faster this time. Drool rolled down to your chin as he sped up, his thrusts almost punishing you for letting another man touch you. Your back arched, stomach against the bed as he rocked you back and forth.
He brought you back up, your back plush against his chest while his hips snapped into yours. You held onto the headboard, the wooden frame hitting the wall with every thrust that he took. One of his hands held your waist as he fucked you to his will, the other wrapping around your throat. He provided enough pressure to make your vision blur at the edges but not enough to the point where you were suffocating. The blood rushed up to your head with every thrust that he took, your mouth parted in a 'o' shape as you moaned out babbles of what seemed to be his name.
He tilted your head back to his directions, leaning in as he kissed you with such intensity that it made you dizzy. You weren't too sure if it was from him or the momentary oxygen loss, but you couldn't get enough of how well he was fucking you. You went back to being on your hands and knees, almost feeling his cock in your throat from this angle. One of his fingers circled the rim of your ass, never willing to do that without your proper consent but he liked to toy with the idea every so often. That hand went down to your clit, rubbing your clit and flicking the nub to the rhythm of his thrusts.
A new wave of your slick coated his cock, some of it rolling down to the covers beneath the two of you. Your mind was erased from every thought that didn't include coming around Miguel’s cock. Your walls clamped around him once more, a moan erupting from your throat while your release coated his cock. He continued with the same pace, fucking you through the orgasm as he sought out for his own release. His thrusts stuttered slightly, becoming off-pace as he reached the brink of his own orgasm.
His head came down to your shoulder, biting down on it as white ropes of cum coated your walls. His fangs gently grazed against your shoulder blade when he removed his mouth, waiting for his cock to soften up so he could remove it. He slid out in one swift motion, getting a rag from the bed stand. he cleaned in between your thighs, his touch light as he did. "Can you stand up for a minute? I'm not letting you sleep on those sheets," he asked you, helping you get up from the bed.
After he'd changed the sheets, you couldn't help but look up at him curiously. "Was that talk about me being yours just something out of the heat of the moment or..?" You asked, trailing off since you didn't want to make wrongful assumptions. "No, it wasn't. I only agreed to this stupid fling because I just wanted to be with you. I'm sorry if I'm acting rash or anything, we can go back to normal," he responded, willing to put aside his feelings for you just so he'd have these moments. "I don't want things to go back to normal, I want to be with you."
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roturo · 5 months
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⋆⭒˚。⋆ SHE'S BACK! PT2
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GUESS HE COULDN'T KEEP IT IN, SO HE HAD TO KEEP IT INSIDE! (again)₊˚⊹♡ dilf!gojo satoru x teacher!reader
tags: smut, unprotected sex, breeding kink, size kink, jealous!reader, jealous!gojo, fluff, creampie, squirting, matingpress, age-gap, reader is described as way smaller than gojo, tummy buldge, teasing, use of nickanmes, overstimulation, dumbfication, fluff, gojo has an ex-wife, yuuji is gojo's son...
PART 1
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Life is fun.
To say you’ve been having the best months of your life would be an understatement. Starting to know Go- Satoru Gojo has been a rollercoaster of emotions. Mostly the age difference. It wasn’t that big, but 7 years was enough for people to talk. And now that he’s turning 32 people have been checking on him for no stop. You guess he was pretty famous when he was younger, at least more than now. 
Even though he is older than you, he’s a ray of sunshine full of brightness for this sad gray world. He finds fun in the sadness, and that’s why every time you see him, not only his eyes shine because of his beautiful blue orbs, but he makes your life shine with how good he makes you feel.
Another day being a teacher wasn’t like any other- But now you have this pink haired kid running across the classroom, and even though you don’t let your personal ‘persona’ interrupt in your job life, you couldn’t stop from falling into your lover son’s cuteness. But you don’t have favorites! At least you don’t say it out loud…
Satoru always trusted you to keep Yuji Itadori with you whenever he had some extra work to do– and he would spend time with you, sometimes at the classroom while you finish some work, or on special days both of you go out for some ice-cream.
But now Satoru hasn’t called or sent a message. 
You were kinda nervous- Your turn was over and you were waiting for everyone to go home, but you were still wondering what was going on with Yuji.
“Hey cotton-candy, is your daddy coming for you?” You asked the little boy, leaning down to have his attention. Not that you needed it much, you know this kid was about to be as tall as his dad.
“Uh, well…” the kid looked up, shifting your gaze too, looking towards a beautiful woman with pink-ish hair and hazel eyes. holy shit- she really looked like Yuji- maybe she was his-
Mom. Standing next to fucking Yuji’s daddy.
Gojo Satoru.
“Yeah?” He called out your name, you were too lost staring at the couple that you never realized you said his name out loud. Shit. Giving the fakest smile to ever exist in this universe you bowed to both of them, while saying your greetings towards Yuji’s mom.
The little kid called your name, losing the soft grip from your hand and while he ran towards his parents. Real. Real parents.
“Look! Mom and daddy are together! They’re taking me to an amusement park because of my birth-day!” His birthday is next week. You know- you have it in your calendar. But you suppose he wanted to spend a day with both of his parents at the same time.
Does she know you’ve been fucking her hus- ex-husband? And you guess she knows about you by the way she looks at you with a sour face, masked with the hypocrisy of a ‘capitalism smile’
“Oh! You must be Yuji’s favorite teacher- Him and Gojo love talking about you.” The sound of her voice almost made you puke, but the moment she places her hands on Gojo, you swear something inside you exploded. You couldn’t tell how he was feeling- your mind full of how you’re getting yourself out of this situation, and maybe out of the city too.
Are they getting back together? Does he still love her? Is he playing with you?
Does he also have that ‘capitalism smile’? Do you have to be at their economic level? The fuck.. why you’re feeling like this! You and Gojo haven’t even officialized any titles for your…. relationship?
Gojo sensed the change of atmosphere once he saw you staring at them with a lost face. He didn’t intend to come here with her. But he didn’t trust her with you. Your shoulders were tense, that fake broken smile you give to people that have hurt you but way too afraid to speak up towards his way. That kinda broke his heart. 
And what angered him the most, was when the witch laid hands on him. He also felt like he was about to puke, way too disgusted with this encounter that it was almost an instinct when he rapidly moved his body- But at the time he did that, a voice called out your name, making you shift your gaze to the sudden voice.
A tall blonde (not as tall as him), buff, (not as buff as him), with formal clothes he could easily identify that were old but classic- nothing like his style. He was not boring. Came walking towards you, waving at you and later placing his hand in your fucking lower back before both of you paid attention to the family infront of you again.
“Oh- I’m sorry. This is the school principal, Mr. Kento.” He might be overreacting, because a principal shouldn’t be this close towards a teacher, his blue eyed-gaze piercing holes into his face, clearly criticizing any aspect that came from him and fit his mind.
Everything after that was like a bullet piercing his head. Getting in automatic mode to survive this awkward encounter and finish the day as soon as possible. Obviously missing the fact Mr. Kento was married and you were his bridesmaid. 
Gratefully the next was saturday- not losing the chance to get drunk and convince yourself that yesterday didn’t happen. You kinda have problems.
Gojo was worried you didn’t answer any of his calls in the morning. Instead, he went looking for you at your house- using the extra pair of keys you gave him. He was practically married to you. At least what he thinks. 
But he couldn’t understand you. Not once he entered the room and found you staring at the TV, your phone long forgotten somewhere. He called out your name, obviously worried about you. Thank god you showered and cleaned yesterday’s mess. “Baby- Are you okay? What’s wrong?”
“Are you getting back together?” 
“With who? What are you talk-”
“With her.”
Gojo gave you a breathless laugh after the last words came out of you before embracing you with his arms. Feeling the heat radiating from his body, the sun to your moon. “With that witch?-- Ppft”  His chest pressed against yours while he chuckled at your assumption. “Why would I ever go back to her, or even meet other women when I have you?”
He felt the tears coming out of your pure eyes wetting his shirt, before his hand traveled and caressed your cheek– kissing away those awful tears that he hated. If he ever has to see you cry it should be– one, because he fucked you so good, or two because he gave you a ring to be by his side for eternity.
“Are you with him?” It’s now his time to ask questions.
“With who?”
“Blonde old guy from yesterday…”
“Oh, Mr. Kento? He’s my best-friend's husband and he's younger than you Satoru” You said while a giggle came out of your mouth and hit his chest with your hand in a light way. 
“Ouh- You tiny thing- How can you hit so hard?” His movements were fast, caging you as fast as possible in his body while he laid you again on your back into your mattress, filling your face with kisses. Seeing you like this was something different to Gojo, it was… more intimate. Your beautiful smile is all for him to adore. Seeing your small body compared to his affected his brain chemistry, leading his blood all down into his cock. 
“I can’t stop wanting to kiss you when you smile, because I want to steal it from you.” His words went straight to your heart, making you blush and avert his gaze from you. “Don’t hide my love, please- let me show you how much I need you.”
His kisses were tender, starting as pure pecks until those pecks turned into trying to claim you as him all over your neck– making you whimper only by his touch. “Maybe we should fullfish Yuji’s wish of giving him a small sister- what do you think?”
“Satoru…”
“What? He keeps rambling about you even when his biological mother is around. Kids his age don’t know how babies are made- but I would gladly show you how and keep you full of my cum everyday just to make sure, y’know?... fucking you here, at mis house… ffuck- at your desk… whenever I have the chance baby.”
Whimpers became moans once his hand reached your trembling core searching for release. Moving your panties to the side– “Sshit baby- You’re so.. wet.” A moan came out of you when his fingers went back to his mouth and he thrusted his covered hips into yours– also searching for friction.While he undressed you and himself too. “Wanna keep you full and nice f’me. So everytime you sit down you think of me. I would love to see your body once I get you pregnant– Ffuck- Scratch that. I would love to wake up every morning by your side. Wake up because of the cries or sounds of our kids. So be a good girl f’me and get pregnant and wifey just f’me, yeah?... fucking yyeah…”
His voice echoes inside your brain, being a trembling mess once he ponders inside of you. Keeping it there just for a moment and feeling him twitch because of how good you make him feel. His thrusts went feral once he truly realized the size difference and the bump forming in your tummy every time he thrusted inside you. Leading one of your hands to rest on your tummy. “Ya feel that? Yeah baby honey… I’m gonna fill this up with my cum- and you’re just gonna take it.” You were a rambling mess once he pressed hard in that spot- Trying to move his hand away from there because the abuse your g-spot was receiving.
The only coherent thing coming out of you,’ah, ah~, ah’ while he dumped his cum inside of you. Still rock hard and full to do it again. His arms engaged with your legs to have better accesses to your pussy, feeling his cock way goo deeper than the first time– taking you in a masting press.
“Fill me up again ´toru…” And oh shit. That made him go feral. His thrusts were erratic and unsynchronized, but each time you swear you could feel him inside your throat. He knew how to use his thing. Your orgasms were not like the other ones you had before. Coating your sheets and Gojo’s pelvis with your liquids– heavy breathes trying to accompany you while Gojo reached his high while you received him like a good girl even when he could barely fit it in again because of your intense orgasm. 
He would always whisper cute things in your ears after sex. Making the both of you laugh with adventure you were slowly creating with him. The family you were creating. And now? His talk while cleaning you up was about baby names 
A/N: this was an experience... the sex was A LOT for me, i never want to hear the word cock again.
taglist: @sirachano0dles @4imhry @chimmysoftpaws @philiatothephobia @xthatpottahfanx @chaotic-tnt
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AITA for coming to dinner with my ex and his new GF uninvited?
This situation is long and messy, so I'll try to include the relevant info only. I (F32) broke up with my long time partner (M33) right before COVID hit. We stayed in the same house during lockdown and continued to live together after lockdown was lifted, because we generally get along and we had a child (F11) to raise together. Over the last 3 years we've been roommates and co-parents and that's it.
One day he was supposed to take our daughter to buy new school clothes, and she came back 10 minutes later in tears. She said they were on their way to the store when his new GF called, and he drove her back home and dropped her off so he could go spend time with her. He even asked our daughter to lie to me for him, but she was tired of covering for him (implying she'd been lying for him for a while now).
When he got home we had a massive argument. I didn't care if he dated other girls, I cared that for some reason he thought he had to sneak around, and it made him act like a jerk to me and our daughter. I told him if he had been a man about this new girl and just introduced me to her then maybe we could have all been friends, but instead he had to act like a horny teenager. It ended with him moving out to live with his parents.
A couple days later he called and apologized. He said he hoped it wasn't too late for him to do things right, and he hopes we can all be friends. I was hopeful that we could finally co-parent in peace for the sake of our child.
This is where I may be TA: I have always been close with my ex's parents, to the point where even after we broke up I would be invited over regularly for dinner. They said even if I wasn't their son's partner I'm still their grandchild's mother, and that makes me family.
So one day when my daughter texts me while at my ex's parent's house and invites me to dinner because they're having my favorite meal, I don't think twice about coming over even though my ex and his GF I've never met now live there. I figured everyone had to be okay with it, since my daughter was inviting me.
I end up having dinner with my ex's parents and daughter, but my ex only comes upstairs to grab two plates of food and goes back downstairs. I ask my ex's mom why and she says his GF doesn't feel well today. Whatever, I think. She's just sick and I'll meet her another day. I have a perfectly pleasant dinner with my ex in-laws, help clean up, and make a promise to bring them a coconut cake (ex father-in-law's favorite) and take my daughter home.
Later my ex blows up my phone with texts and calls, saying it was so weird and rude that I came over for dinner uninvited. That I made his new GF uncomfortable, and like she wasn't welcome there. And that I caused trouble in their relationship because she assumes we must still be in love for me to come over and see his parents out of the blue like that, because "exes don't do that. it's creepy."
I had a talk with my daughter and asked her calmly if she had asked everyone else if it was ok if I come over before she texted me, and she sheepishly said she didn't know she had to ask since it had never been a problem before. (I didn't tell her about her dad's meltdown at me, or tell her dad that she's the one who invited me. She's a child and shouldn't be involved)
Instead I just told him I'm sorry me dropping by made things awkward, but I thought he wanted us all to be friends from now on and I figured this was a good place to start being friends. He said there was no way she'd want to be my friend now that I made her feel uncomfortable in her own home.
It wasn't my intention to make anyone uncomfortable, but I admit I'd be perturbed if he brought this woman into MY home and I had not even been warned first. So AITA?
What are these acronyms?
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slushycoookie · 8 days
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My Husband Has a Symbiote! Pt.5
Pt.1 ~ Pt.2 ~ Pt.3 ~ Pt.4 ~ Pt.5
Relationship: Miguel O'Hara x AFAB! Reader
Word Count: 3.2k
Content: Lactation kink, pregnancy sex, childbirth, MINORS DNI!!!
Summary: In the final stage of your pregnancy, you find out a new thing your husband likes.
A/N: This will be the "last" part of this mini-series. I'm leaving it open-ended just in case I have another one in me. But count this as complete! I appreciate anyone who's been reading! (And I totally forgot to make a tag list. I will do that next time I do a series.)
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“Aww, you shouldn’t have!” You hold up the hundredth spider suit onesie designed for an infant.
Miles' small smile was something you couldn’t be upset at, “It's no problem. But there's more.” He points to the tissue paper, causing you to look deeper inside. You gasp at the hand-drawn baby book. It's colorful and bright with a story about how a young spider made her way to find her family.
“Miles! This is adorable.” You squeal with excitement, holding it up for Miguel who was watching from afar with a smile. You motion Miles over to proceed to kiss his face with gratitude. Miles accepts your appreciation before politely pulling away.
“You're welcome.”
“My turn!” Another spider jumped in with another present.
For some reason, you've never pictured yourself having a baby shower. At HQ, out of all places. Plenty at Spider Society wanted to give you gifts to celebrate the baby. Which mainly consisted of their spider merch for babies.
Others were thoughtful. Hobie gave you a few CDs of punk music for the baby. He said it was supposed to help with developmental growth. Pavitr and Gwen collaborated on buying some baby toys. It was mainly stuffed animals. Somehow you also noticed the stuffed version of their spider personas in there. And Margo gave a few video games that also helped the development of the baby. Although these weren't going to be used until your child was big enough to hold a controller.
You were ecstatic to have a large circle who loved and cared for you genuinely.
“Oh, you're…leaking.” A spider pointed out. You looked down and your blouse was getting stained by milk droplets from your breasts.
Miguel was immediately by your side with a few wipes, “We can stop if you want-”
“I'm ok.” You said, “It's just a little milk.” In fact, it's been happening occasionally throughout your third trimester. Milk staining your shirts, preparing for your baby. Your husband lingered by your side for a moment and you caught him glancing at your breasts. Probably out of concern.
After getting home from the baby shower, Miguel insisted you relax on the couch. Making you watch him carry endless boxes from the party through the portal, setting them inside the house.
“I guess we don't have to worry about getting baby clothes for a while, huh?” You joked, losing count on how many baby spider onesies you all received.
“I'm not having our daughter just wear clothes that look like spider suits.” Miguel sighed, looking amongst all the boxes. Trying to figure out where to put them. You stood, ready to come to his aid. “I got this, baby. Go sit and relax.”
“I've been sitting all day.” You reminded him. “I need something to do.” You picked up a marker and started to go through what was in each box and label it. The two of you agreed to keep a few boxes in the house and put the rest in the garage. ‘It's what they're for’ as your husband would say.
It was a comfortable silence while you two dove in the boxes. After spending all day surrounded by people who constantly congratulated you, giving you stuff you needed, it was nice to enjoy the quiet. You two were pretty much ready for the due date in a couple of weeks. Miguel was not going to stand being underprepared if he couldn’t help it.
The boxes were almost done, your husband paused and honed on your breasts. “It's happening again.”
“God.” You huffed, going to the nearest bathroom. Quickly grabbing some paper towels. You understood that you had to produce milk for your baby, but it was getting a little annoying.
“Shut up.” You heard your husband say. It caused you to peek out from the doorframe in question.
“What was that?”
“Nothing!” Miguel quickly said, “It's just Ravage.”
You blinked, decided to not indulge and went back to cleaning yourself up. You were actually surprised by Ravage's willing cooperation throughout your pregnancy. The alien was still insatiable though and you were hesitant at first. Once the doctor reported that you should expect to have a healthy pregnancy, the symbiote was on to have sex a lot. Not letting a baby bump stop them from getting what they want..
It was actually nice though since your hormones have been off the charts. If you even looked at Miguel, you'd get horny. Not caring where you were at all. As long as he fucked you.
“Need some help?”
Miguel asked, standing by the door with a washcloth in his hand. He closes the door to the bathroom to create some more privacy like you two didn’t have.
“It's ok.” You try to decline but he takes away the paper towels, tossing them in the trash.
“It's not. Let me.” He dabs the warm, damp cloth on your breast. A much better feeling than the coarse texture the paper towel gave. You didn’t protest, knowing he was going to care for you in any way he can. But you watched his eyes.
They were honed in on your breasts. As if he was under a spell. Enraptured by the rag soaking up the milk droplets from your nipples. You held your breath, worried that if a small gust escaped you, it would break him from his trance.
“I think you're good.” Miguel snaps himself out of it, shooting you a small smile.
“Are you okay?”
“I'm ok. Why?”
You weren't sure whether to bring up what you just saw. Maybe it was your hormones acting up again. “Nothing. Nevermind.” You reassure him with a kiss.
While getting ready for your due date, you wanted to get ahead on things. You spoke to Jess on some breastfeeding tips. You figured it would be a good idea to ask since you've been leaking every five minutes.
The spider woman helps you on how to hold the baby, demonstrating by holding the air. You were listening to what she was saying, but you wondered if it would be better to have a visual aid.
“I would show you with Gerry, but he's a bit old to be breastfeeding now.” Jess laughs, “But I think there's something that could help.”
She shows you the breastfeeding dolls. Designed to do exactly what the name says. A baby with its mouth partially opened, giving you ample amount of practice to hold your baby correctly while they're feeding. And you could customize the baby too.
You quickly bought one, excited when it arrived a few days later. You undressed your fake baby from the plastic, eager to try it out.
With the help of Jess’ advice and a few diagrams from the pamphlet that was with your baby, you practiced. Holding the child close to your chest, making sure the mouth was positioned correctly so your not real kid was fed. How convenient that while you were practicing, milk started to leak from your nipple again. Into your fake baby's mouth.
“What are you doing?”
You turn from your position on the couch to see your husband, back from work. His face twisted in question. “Practicing. Wanna see?”
“Practicing what?” Miguel hesitantly walks over, answering his question as he sees you and the fake baby. “You need to practice breastfeeding?”
You nod, still cradling the child in your arms. “I want to make sure I get it right. I don't want to mess it up.”
“You won't mess it up.” He sits beside you, “I know you won’t.”
“Thanks. But I just wanna make sure.” You go back to pretend feeding your baby. Miguel is still next to you, watching you practice. It wasn't weird, you figured he wants to see how it works.
“And you need a fake baby to practice?”
“Yes, Miguel.” You give him a quick kiss to make him hush and you think that works but…
“This baby doesn't have fangs. Our baby might.”
You purse your lips, “I know. We already talked about the genetic make-up of our kid.” It was concluded that there was a strong chance your daughter would have fangs and red eyes. Since the percentage of spider genes in your spouse was 50/50. But you didn’t care. You'd love your daughter if she had eight eyes.
“Then maybe you should practice with something that has fangs.”
Your brows furrowed in confusion, “The baby design options were not that detailed. And we don't know any babies with fangs. Not that I'm saying to steal a baby, I'm just-”
Miguel takes the fake baby from you, placing it behind himself. Your eyes follow his movements when he turns you to face him.
“I have fangs.”
You blink, “They retract.”
“So?”
“So, I'm not going to breastfeed you.”
“Why not?” He looks at your chest again, still exposed from your practice. Milk leaking out once more.
You force out a chuckle, “Mig, you don't want to drink from my boob.”
“I didn't say that. Why are you implying that I don't want to taste?” His thumb presses against your nipple, drops of milk pouring down his digit. “It's food that helps feed our baby. It's not dangerous or anything.
You bite your lip as he flicks your nipple to watch the milk pour out. You didn’t want to admit out loud that seeing him like this was sexy.
“Is this you or Ravage being like this?”
Miguel leans forward, his body right above yours, “This is me and Ravage.”
“Oh.” Your face starts to get hot, “How long have you two been like this?”
“Since you started leaking. I'm not proud of the unnecessary thoughts I've had.” He ducks his head in embarrassment. But you couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that your husband wants to suck on your tiddy.
“I don't mind.”
Miguel groaned, his hands gripping the couch. “Sure you don't. I feel like a…pervert.”
“You're not a pervert.” You reassure him by resting a hand on his cheek. “You're just…discovering something new.”
“That's putting it lightly.” Miguel starts to push away, shutting himself down from what he craved deep down. But you didn’t want him to make him feel ashamed. You wanted him to do it.
By taking his arm, you make him stay. Removing your shirt, ignoring the milk dripping down to the underside of your breast. You keep calm as Miguel’s eyes darken at the sight of you. Licking his lips at the sight of the liquid. “Do it. It's ok.”
He bends down after your permission, capturing a breast between his lips. Miguel sucks, his body rumbling at the taste of your milk. Because of your hormones, everything was dialed up to 11. The sensation of his lips on you was enough for your wetness to stir down below. An embarrassing whimper escapes you, while you clutch at him in need.
Miguel makes sure both of your breasts are tended to by licking a strip of excess milk up from your other breast. His groans fill the open space and your ears.
“You taste delicious.” He compliments after getting the remaining droplets from your skin. “Our baby will love it.”
You notice his bulge amongst his pants, “You're loving it too.”
Miguel’s hand dips inside past your sweatpants and underwear. The lightest touch amongst your folds makes you croon as he feels your wetness. “So are you.”
Miguel became relentless once he started tasting your breast milk. The two of you played it under the guise that you were practicing when this was nowhere near that. Whenever you two were alone and you started leaking, instead of using a tissue, he used his mouth. Collecting every ounce of milk that came from your nipple.
It was addicting.
Your husband taking turns with the symbiote, tongues lapping at your nipples, tasting every single drop. Satisfied for the day. Especially when it came during sex.
You wondered if your belly would be in the way but Miguel took care of that. Using his strength to make sure he did all of the work, not you.
He would secure you by gripping your thighs. Spreading your legs just right before lifting you up and sinking you down on his gigantic cock. You refrain him from taking his symbiote form while having sex during the last trimester, unsure if his larger length would affect the baby. But his normal body was more than enough.
You'd whine while taking him as he lazy thrusts up into you. His face buried in your chest as he did so. Sucking on any drop of milk, groaning with his movements. Your arousal coated his cock, easy for him to slip and slide right in. And then a sense of satisfaction waved over your body once you were finished.
You had to enjoy these moments while you still can.
Your due date was coming in a few days. In a perfect world, Miguel would stay by your side. Watching over you and ready to go once the big day arrived. Instead, there was an influx of anomalies popping up in different dimensions. Leaving your husband to take care of it.
Plans had to change. He connected his watch to yours so he'd be informed when you call him for the big moment. He promised to pick up right away. You noticed his annoyance of the change of plans, knowing he didn't like not being nearby while you were like this. But you took it in stride. Soon, your baby girl will be here in your world.
Miguel had to go once more, kissing you goodbye along with the usual spiel of what to do when your water breaks. You decided to do a once over the baby’s room for the fifth time this week. A wide range of emotions consumed you, from excitement to fear. You want to be a good caretaker for your daughter. But you didn’t want to mess it up. All the self-help parenting books in the world wouldn't help you with the real thing.
A strange rush of fluids went through your lower body, staining your pants and the floor in the baby's room. Did your water just break?
Sharp pains riddle your stomach as you lean on the crib for support. The baby was coming. You tried to call Miguel through your watch, taking slow, deep breaths. You weren't going to panic. You two had planned for this.
He wasn’t picking up.
You could hardly move. Any attempt committed shockwaves across your entire body. You can't have the baby here, by yourself in the baby room. So you called Lyla.
“Heyo! What can I do for ya-oh that's not good.” Lyla says while watching your hunched state.
“Where's my husband?”
The AI shows you a bunch of screens you couldn't understand at the moment. “Tech issue while on a mission. Margo and I are working on it but communication is currently difficult.”
“H-How long will it take?” You were hoping for a good answer, anything to soothe your worries.
“ETA is ten minutes for all communications to be back online.”
That was definitely something you were not looking for. “In ten minutes, I'll be having this baby-” You groan, a contraction hitting you. “I-Is it possible…to tell Miguel that our baby is coming?”
“I can but it'll be delayed. He won't get the message right away due to his location.”
“Would anyone get it at HQ?”
“Oh yeah, there’s no issues there.”
“Who's at Spider Society?”
Lyla did a scan. It was quick but in your current state, she took forever. “Ben is.”
“Will the message be delayed if you reach out to him?”
“No, he should get it instantly.”
You told Lyla to send messages to Miguel and his left-hand man. You knew your spouse was going to be upset that he missed the start of what would change both of your lives. But you don’t think you could wait for him any longer. With all the strength you could muster, you grab the baby bag and place it on your shoulder. It takes everything you can to maneuver to the living room so Ben could pick you up quickly.
To your relief he was there in a flash, blue eyes darting around to get a clear look at the situation.
“Hi, Benny.” You gave him a weary smile, “Can you get me to the hospital?”
He quickly nodded, putting the baby bag across his shoulders. “I can't wait to tell Miguel I came to the rescue. You think he'd give me a metal?”
“Maybe.” You pat his shoulder as he gently picks you up, positioning you tight as he goes through the portal.
Your husband made sure there was a maternity ward and a birthing center in the building. Making sure you get top-notch level care throughout your pregnancy. Right when Ben takes you in, Miguel picks right up.
“Are you okay? Lyla told me the baby's on the way.” Before you could answer, you whined, a contraction stopping your words completely. That was enough to answer his question. “I'm coming. Just breathe like in those exercises we saw, okay? Like this.”
He starts breathing through the watch in a certain rhythm and you follow it as your doctors put you in a room. You lean against the hospital bed, the nurses helping change you into a gown.
“I really need you here, Miggy.”
You didn’t want to admit that you were scared. You had nine months to overcome your fear but now that you’re facing it, you wanted him there.
“I'm coming. Don't worry.”
True to his word, Miguel is in the delivery room not long after. Still in his suit but instantly by your side. You felt much better by his presence, gripping his hand as the birth of your baby began.
The entire labor was eight hours. You were doped up with medication so you couldn’t tell. The trials and tribulations of pushing, Miguel holding your hand to help you through it all. Thank goodness for his spider strength. It was hell, you weren’t sure if you wanted to get pregnant again after this. But it was all worth it for your baby girl.
Gabriella was beautiful with her brown skin, gentle red eyes and curly brown hair. Almost a spitting image of her father. A person you two made together after going through constant efforts of conception.
Miguel wipes his eyes, unsuccessful at holding back tears of joy. “She's beautiful.” He kisses your daughter's head and then yours.
Ravage comes out, the symbiote getting a good look at the sleeping baby in awe. “She smells. Like baby powder.”
“She does.” You press your nose to your daughter’s head, taking in that new baby smell. “Thanks, Rav. For helping us have this baby.”
The alien gets taken back. You wanted to express your gratitude, knowing your baby wouldn’t be here without them. “You are welcome.”
“We’re not letting you babysit though.” Miguel says, making it clear.
“At least until Gabi's older.” You clarified.
Ravage hums, “Fine. As long as we can have intercourse again.”
Miguel fights the urge to pinch his nose while you giggle. “Of course. Don't worry about that.”
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formula-nyoom · 29 days
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Grid Graduation
Platonic!Grid x Fem!Reader
Summary: Being a racecar driver and actively pursuing a higher education is a feat in and of itself. You didn't let your career get in the way of going to college. But when racing seems to prevent you from attending your graduation ceremony, your fellow drivers decide to take matters into their own hands
A/N: Congratulations to all the people that are graduating this month or next month! I hope you guys have amazing celebrations. And to my fellow college students who still have a year or years left to go, we’re going to get through it, even if it seems like hell. I know that the color of the graduation gowns can vary by college or are usually black but I went with dark blue because that was the color of my gown when I got my associates degree. 
~~~
Some people would say it's stupid to try and get a bachelor’s degree while being a race car driver. 
“You already have a career. Why would you spend all your free time off track pursuing something you don’t really need?” is the question that was constantly asked to you during interviews. Your answer: because it was important to you. It’s common knowledge that karting and racing takes up most of a driver’s life. And while most drivers are able to pursue basic schooling and education during their karting days and early single seater days, once a driver makes it higher up the racing ladder, pursuing an education becomes second to trying to be the best race car driver on track. 
You on the other hand felt that your pursuit of racing should not get in the way of your education. And thankfully with the ability to take online classes, you didn’t have that worry. 
“You’ve refreshed that page five times in the last 30 seconds.” Alex said as you two sat in the drivers lounge. It was media day so thankfully neither of you had to worry about racing and instead your worry was focused on something else.
 “Can you blame me? I’m supposed to get sent an email that tells me whether or not I graduate today and I’m dying to know.” You said, refreshing the page again. You had finally completed all the required courses you needed to graduate and get your bachelors degree. Now you were just waiting for the confirmation that all the hard work, all the study sessions you had done between and after races, and all the all nighters was worth it. 
 “Have you gotten the email yet?” You looked up from your laptop to see Logan approaching with Oscar behind him. You refreshed the page again.
 “Nope. Still nothing.” You let out a frustrated sigh. All the other drivers knew about your pursuit of a college education while also being a race car driver. They had been nothing but supportive in your efforts and could tell how worried you were about having to wait for your college’s final decision on you graduating.
 “The email will come eventually. Staring at the screen isn’t going to help.” Oscar said. 
“I suppose you’re right.” You said, refreshing the page again. You were about to close your laptop, putting the matter temporarily to rest, when the page loaded and showed you had a new email. It was from your college.
 “It’s here!” You exclaimed. You were about to open the email when you paused your finger over the mouse pad.
“I don’t think I can open this. What if they deny me? Or what if this email tells me that I still have some courses that I need to pass to graduate?” You started nervously chewing on your bottom lip as worst case scenarios started to run through your head. Logan placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder
 “(Y/N), you’ve been working your ass off the past couple years to get this degree. They’d be stupid to not let you graduate.” Logan said. 
 “I can read the email for you first if you want.” Alex offered. That seemed to calm your nerves. You handed Alex the laptop and waited with bated breath as he opened the email. Anticipation started to build as it seemed to take forever for Alex to read the first line of the email
“Congratulations (Y/N) (L/N), you have met the requirements to graduate!” Alex exclaimed.
 “Really?” You grabbed the laptop and read the first line of the email that did indeed confirm that you were graduating. Logan and Oscar started to shake your shoulders in excitement as you started to laugh from happiness.
 “I’m graduating!” You exclaimed. Logan, Alex and Oscar let out cheers of excitement as you read the first lines of the email again.
“What’s with the excitement?” Charles asked as he and Max entered the driver’s lounge.
 “(Y/N) got the confirmation that she’s graduating college.” Alex said.
“Congratulations!”Max said. He ruffled your hair while Charles gave you a hug. You were practically beaming with happiness as you started to read the email out loud. 
“Congratulations (Y/N) (L/N), you have met the requirements to graduate! We commend you for this amazing accomplishment and we’d like you to attend the graduation ceremony on….June 7th.” Your voice trailed off after reading the date and your smile slowly started to drop.
 “Are you gonna go?” Oscar asked. You shook your head.
“I can’t. We’ll all be in Canada for Free Practice.” You said. It was true. Your college’s graduation ceremony was the same week of the Canadian Grand Prix.
 “Do you think your team will let you go?” Alex asked. “I mean, you’ve done Canada multiple times and you’ll do it again. But you only really graduate college once, especially considering you're a race car driver.”
 “I don’t think (Y/N)’s team will let her go. Free Practice isn’t something you can really miss.” Max said. He was right. Attending a graduation ceremony seemed like a trivial matter compared to your career. 
 “But (Y/N)’s worked so hard for this. Surely her team will understand.” Logan said.
“No, it’s…it’s ok if I miss the graduation ceremony. I’ve been given confirmation that I’m graduating and will get my diploma in the mail later this year. That’s enough for me.” You told them. But that wasn’t really true. You would have liked to attend the ceremony. If not for just the celebration but also for the sense of normalcy away from the racetrack and responsibilities of being a Formula One driver. 
 “Well we can still celebrate right? Maybe get all the drivers together for a dinner?” Charles suggested. You smiled a bit.
 “Yea Charles. A dinner would be nice. This is still a cause for a celebration. Even if I can’t go to the official one.”
Dinner with the other drivers was a nice celebration. It helped you forget about not being able to attend the graduation ceremony for a while. But the week of the Canadian Grand Prix seemed to bring up that fact again. It seemed the media wanted to remind you too.
 “Well, before we start taking questions, I’d like to say congratulations to you, (Y/N). It was recently let known that you’ve graduated college and now have a bachelor's degree.” The media commentator for the drivers press conference said to you as you sat on a couch next to George, Lando, Lewis, and Zhou. 
“Thank you. If I didn't have to be here in Canada, I'd actually be attending the graduation ceremony, which is happening tomorrow. But racing takes priority.” You smiled to hide some of your disappointment, but the other drivers seemed to notice.
 “I’m sure you and your family are proud of all your efforts. Maybe some of the drivers too?” The interviewer said, motioning to the drivers next to you.
“I’m insanely proud of (Y/N) for what she’s accomplished. She’s shown that racing shouldn’t get in the way of pursuing an education.” Lewis said.
 “I will say, (Y/N) has worked harder than anyone else on the grid.” Zhou said. 
“She won’t admit it herself though.” George said, nudging your side. You shook your head.
“In terms of something like this, even if I can’t attend a graduation ceremony, I’m proud of all the work I’ve done.” You said.
 “Well, I hope you celebrate or have already celebrated what is an immense accomplishment.” The interviewer said.
 “Me and the other drivers on the grid actually went out to dinner to celebrate the day I found out I was graduating to make up for the fact that I can’t attend the ceremony. It was a really nice dinner and I’m glad I have friends to celebrate my accomplishments with.” You smiled at your friends sitting next to you. They smiled back, but for a different reason. 
Despite your efforts to hide your disappointment, your fellow drivers could tell how upset you were about not being able to attend your graduation ceremony. And while the dinner was indeed nice, they wanted you to have a proper celebration for such an immense accomplishment.
That’s how George and Lando ended up knocking on your driver’s room door after interviews and media responsibilities were done for the day.
 “Hey guys. What’s up?” You asked as you opened the door for them.
“Put this on.” Lando handed you a bag with what you assumed had to contain clothing.
 “Why? What is it that you have handed me?” You gave him a skeptical look.
“Open the bag and find out.” Lando said. You did as he instructed and pulled out something made of dark blue fabric. At first you thought it was a dress, but unfurling it revealed to be a graduation gown. You tried not to frown. The only need for something like this would be for graduation photos, which you had already taken. But Lando and George were insistent and you decided to amuse their idea for now and put it on.
“Now what? You want me to get into a race car and drive around the track in a graduation gown?” George and Lando just laughed.
 “I don’t think the FIA will allow that. At least not in just the gown.” Lando said.
“Of course you can’t have the gown without the cap.”  George handed you a graduation cap with a tassel in your team color. The cap was decorated with a little race car on top that had a diploma trailing behind it. 
 “What’s…what’s all this for?” You asked, while putting the cap on. You don’t know why you decided to put the cap on, but did so anyway.
“It’s for your graduation ceremony of course.” Lando said. You frowned.
 “There’s no way I can attend that ceremony.” You said.
“We’re not talking about your college’s graduation ceremony. We’re talking about the one that’s happening right now.” George said. “Come on.”
George and Lando ushered you out of your driver’s room and started to lead you somewhere. You still looked at them with confusion. 
 “We already celebrated during that dinner.”
“But it wasn’t a proper ceremony.” Lando said, leading you towards the track entrance. By now, you were starting to suspect what George and Lando were up to. It wasn’t confirmed until they led you to the start line.
“You guys did not….” Rows and rows of chairs were set up on the track with a makeshift aisle in the middle. Each chair was filled with one of your fellow drivers or members of your team. Tears started to well up in your eyes at the realization of what was happening. 
 “We wanted you to have a proper graduation ceremony.” Lando said, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you into a side hug. Now you were trying really hard not to cry.
 “C’mon. Everyone’s waiting for you.” George said. He and Lando walked you past all chairs, the drivers and team members applauding you as you walked past. 
Lewis and Fernando were standing at what was designated the stage and greeted you with a hug and a whispered “congratulations” as you approached. 
 “Shall we get started then?” Lewis, who had been designated the commencement speaker, said to get everyone’s attention. Everyone quieted down and took a seat
“We are gathered here to recognize the immense accomplishments of (Y/N) (L/N) in her pursuit of a higher education in the form of a bachelor's degree. Not only has she strived for what many have wanted to achieve, but did so while also managing the life of a Formula One driver. That is something not many can do.” Lewis said.
 “I now ask for Fernando to present the graduate with their diploma.” Fernando walked over to you and handed you a piece of paper, then the two of you shook hands as formality of a traditional graduation ceremony while George quickly snapped a photo. You looked at the “diploma” that was handed to you and couldn’t help but let out a laugh. It was a diploma template that you could find on the internet that included your name and the name of your college. Though the official seal had your team logo on it. 
“I now ask the graduate of 2024, to move your tassel from right to left and signify your newfound graduation status.” Lewis said. By now, it was getting really hard to try and keep the tears in as you moved the tassel from right to left. Lewis smiled.
 “It is my pleasure to present (Y/N) (L/N) as the grid’s graduating class of 2024.” Everyone stood up and applauded you. At this point you couldn’t keep the tears in any longer and started to cry but also cheer. Lewis pulled you into a hug, followed by Fernando, then Lando and George and it got to the point of just being a big group hug full of drivers.
 “Go on, toss the cap!” Logan exclaimed once the group hug broke away. Chants of “Toss it! Toss it!” started to echo till you took the graduation cap off and tossed it into the air, signifying that all that hard work was worth it.
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pennylanefics · 23 days
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Lake House - Quinn Hughes
a/n: first time writing for quinn! i really need to get the library fic done and i promise i will, i know it will come to me one of these days 😅 also i was able to get this done late last night! :)
summary: quinn invites you to his family's lake house for a week to get away for a little bit
word count: ~ 1.8k
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After a brutal two hour drive in the rain out to Quinn’s family’s lake house, you finally arrived just as the sun was beginning to set, despite your desperate attempts to get Quinn to pull over and wait the storm out. But he wanted to get there in a reasonable time, so he took it slow, while you shielded your eyes the entire time.
Quinn brings your suitcases inside, not wanting you to slip and fall on the wet concrete, so you took this time to look around the house, admiring all the decorations and photos of him and his family. He returns for a second time, bringing the last of your things inside and kicking the door shut behind him.
“I hope it stops raining soon,” he grumbles, kicking his wet shoes off and leaving them on the door mat. You chuckle and walk over to him, brushing his hair away from his face, having been pelted with the drops falling from the sky.
He smiles at you and leans into your touch as your hands come to caress his cheeks. Turning his head, he places a kiss on the palm of your hand, and then one to the other hand right after.
“We have an entire week, I’m sure the weather will get better sometime during our stay.” He nods in response and sighs softly.
“Well, let me give you the official tour,” he grins sweetly, taking your hands in his and beginning to guide you through the house.
“And this is my room,” he opens the final door, showing you a neat bedroom with a nautical theme. It was very cozy, the main colors being creams and navy blues, the bed spread the same color blue. It felt calming, with a photo of a wave on the wall, but Quinn made sure to decorate some things himself, including a photo of you two on the dresser.
“I’m assuming this didn’t come with the house?” You tease, pointing to it. It’s from Brady Tkachuk’s wedding, the first big event the two of you attended as a couple. It was a photo that the photographer took of all the groomsmen with their dates, the two of you looking at each other and laughing, your smiles wide.
“It’s my favorite picture of us,” he admits, coming up behind you. “I needed something to personalize the room a little, with photos that don’t include Jack and Luke.”
The rest of the night is spent sitting on the couch, staring out the window and watching the lightning light up the sky and the rain hit the lake in a hypnotizing manner.
The next couple of days, the weather was thankfully better, but there was more rain forecasted towards the end of your stay. The first day there, you two spend the morning swimming in the lake and messing around with each other, Quinn playfully chasing you around the muddy yard; you were sliding and falling every few seconds, but neither of you cared one bit, grass and mud getting stuck to your damp skin.
After you get all cleaned up and showered, Quinn started to prepare dinner and you helped, taking direction from him since he was the cook between the two of you. When it was finally in the oven, you sit out on the back deck, your legs in Quinn’s lap as you both read the books you were currently reading, his hand stroking up and down your shin, sometimes creeping up to your knee.
“What do you want to do tomorrow?” He asks after ten minutes or so of quiet. The birds were chirping around you, stopping near you on the birdhouse filled with seeds, giving you an entertaining sight to watch as they flitter around.
“We could take the boat out on the lake, it’s supposed to be clear skies,” you say, looking out at the sunset.
The clouds created a breathtaking pattern in the sky, the sunlight beaming from behind them, the rays golden and shining. It was bright orange with hints of purple and pink, the sun a massive orange orb on the horizon.
“So beautiful,” you whisper, not having heard a word that Quinn said in response to your suggestion. He just laughs and shakes his head a little. 
“Did you hear anything I said?” He asks, though he was well aware of the answer.
“No, sorry honey,” you turn back to him, patting his cheek.
“I said we could definitely do that, it won’t be too windy either so that’ll mean the lake will be calm.”
“Then sounds like a plan,” you agree, leaning over to kiss his cheek. “Now let me go back to looking at the sunset.” He laughs loudly, his head throwing back as he does. 
“You’d rather look at the sunset than your handsome boyfriend?” He teases you, reaching over your bodies to grab your chin in his hands and turn your head back to him.
“I don’t know…have you seen the sky right now?” You continue to play along with the joke. “I will say it’s making your eyes look so magnificent, and I didn’t think it was possible for them to get prettier.”
He blushes at your words and hides his face behind his book, feeling very bashful all of a sudden. Quinn was never one to do well with compliments. Sure, he was happy to hear them, but he never knew how to accept them, or react when he was given one. You always told him it makes him even cuter, which leads him to always get even more shy.
His phone goes off for the timer for the food being done, so you head inside to plate everything and finish up the side dishes. Once everything is plated, you sit down at the dining room table, with you at the head of the table and Quinn to your left.
Dinner is quiet for the most part, with small conversation here and there, but you enjoy each other’s company and the peace of the still house. This is the kind of getaway the two of you needed, and you were so glad that you took a week off work to be here with him.
The days following are just as fun as the first day you were there. The second day, as promised, Quinn took you out on their boat and you two spent some time jumping off the side of the boat and swimming around in the water rather than near the land. 
Unfortunately, the third and fourth days, rain was forecasted, so you found some things to do inside. On the third day, you relaxed by having a movie marathon with a mixture of your favorite movies, with a small break so that Quinn could catch up on some reading he wanted to get done. But, to still be with one another, you laid with your head in his lap and took a small nap before dinnertime rolled around.
The fourth day is when things took a slight turn.
You were inside, curled up on the couch with some popcorn, talking about the plans for the upcoming hockey season and how you’d work around your schedule to travel with him and things alike, when the front door starts to jiggle and suddenly, Jack barges in, announcing his arrival.
“No need to worry! I have arrived!” He shouts, Luke following close behind. Quinn’s expression drops with disappointment and he turns to look at you. Quinn sometimes struggles with speaking what he’s thinking, but his face always says it all.
“What the hell are you guys doing here?” He grumbles, rubbing his face. You set the bowl of popcorn on the coffee table in front of you, standing to hug his brothers. Just then, his parents stroll in with their things.
“Mom, I told you I was taking (Y/N) here for the week and didn’t want anyone else here,” Quinn complains, finally standing from the couch to walk over to his parents.
You’ve met them plenty of times already, so that wasn’t an issue. But you knew Quinn wasn’t happy, and you suddenly felt like a nuisance. However, you were well aware that no one thought that of you, and this was all his family’s doing, as he did tell them he’d be there with you, and specifically wanted to be alone.
You greet them after Quinn does, giving both of them a hug before stepping to the side.
“Sorry for crashing your little romantic getaway,” Jack comes over to you, nudging your shoulder and laughing awkwardly.
“It’s not like that,” you mumble. “We’ve both been super stressed and needed to decompress away from everything.” 
Jack still takes your words as suggestive, and he wiggles his eyebrows teasingly. You scoff at him and shove him away from you just as Luke walks up to the two of you.
“I tried to tell them not to come here, but they wouldn’t listen,” Luke tries to advocate for yours and Quinn’s side.
“It’s fine,” you shake your head. “I’m not the one you should be trying to apologize to.” You nod your head in Quinn’s direction, where he was in a slightly heated disagreement with his dad, his hands running through his hair in an annoyed manner.
When his parents finally go to their room and Jack and Luke head upstairs, Quinn returns to where you stand and hides his face in your neck, nuzzling into your shoulder. His arms go around your torso, just holding you to him.
“Hey, it’s alright, honey,” you whisper. He was very clearly upset that his family couldn’t give him just a week to himself, and he didn’t need to say this for you to know why he was upset.
“I told them not to come here,” he mumbles against your shirt. Your hands begin to mess with the curls at the back of his neck, twirling them between your fingers and combing through them.
“I know. We can try to take another trip together in a couple months, if that’ll make you feel better. Or we can leave a day early, in the morning, because I’d rather not be driving in the rain at night.”
Quinn is hesitant to answer, but after a few moments of thinking, he nods his head.
“I think I wanna leave in the morning.”
Your heart aches at the tone of his voice. Quinn was a family man more than anything else, but when he wanted his time away, he was serious about it. His brothers and parents crashing your small vacation has thrown off all of his plans, and he was now no longer wanted to be here.
“Okay. We can pack everything up right now, spend the rest of our night in the room, until dinner, and leave early before anyone wakes up. I’m so sorry, baby.” He raises his head and kisses you sweetly, silently thanking you for being so understanding and kind.
“It’ll be okay, honey, I promise,” you whisper, wanting him to know that you’re going to be here for him and advocate for him and his wellbeing.
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431 notes · View notes
wednesdaynn · 2 months
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birthday special
A/N: HI! omg it's my birthday and i thought i'd write a little special something from myself to you, as i'll be spending my birthday alone. So here is a little special poly!marauders smutty fic to make myself happy and not dread this awful day.
i also got a cake with the faces of multiple celebrities i love, including the OG fancasts... so
not edited, not even double checked or rewritten, i did this in 3 days and expected it to only be around 2000 words, so it might be awfull, dont blame me
This is also uploaded 9 hours after scheduled time but shhh
word count: 4388
warnings: reader who feels left out and sad on her birthday/ foursome, oral sex, penatrative sex, awkward positions and understanding lovers, dirty talk, slight overwhelming feelings so a bit of crying.
pairing: poly!marauders x fem!reader
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It's eerily quiet in the great hall. lunch time had just passed and most of the students were spending their time outside in the great fields outside of the castle. Spring break was coming to an end and most of ‘em filled their last couple of free days soaking up the sunlight outside, a rare occurrence in scotland. except for your friends, who had been all over the place since that morning. you suppose you had been slightly jealous towards them. Every time it was someone's birthday they made sure to plan something that would interest the birthday person. 
For Lily's birthday, you had spent the evening outside after dark playing in the snow and staying up all night in the boys dorm, drinking wine and gossiping. Remus' birthday was perfect, it had fallen on a sunday, giving you guys the entire day to do nothing except to annoy Remus, plan pranks and sneak into the kitchen to eat until you guys couldn’t . For james’ you guys had planned an entire party that lasted through all the night. 
But this morning you woke up to everyone rushing around. You had thought that because it was spring break there would be a lot of time to hang out with the lot, but to your surprise, you got a kiss on the cheek from your girl friends, and your boyfriends had to get up for quidditch practice early and stayed until lunch. They wished you a happy birthday and let you unpack your presents at the breakfast table. but the celebrations were soon pushed aside for more important tasks, such as studying. 
since breakfast you hadn’t seen anyone, the first hour after breakfast spent in the common room reading a book, you had soon grown bored. you went to the library to study but found it to be too crowded with most of the students cramming for their latest exams. the hot weather tearing them down. and right before lunch you headed outside to join Hagrid in feeding the latest creature he had brought home with him. both of you working in silence. 
But lunch rolled around and you hadn't seen any of your friends. When you walked into the great hall, your boyfriends were just on their way to return to the dorms to take a long awaited shower, while Remus and Peter joined them to finish the last part of their essay. 
And you know there was an open invitation to join them. they always made sure to let you know you are welcome there, even Peter had let you know he enjoys your company, more than the boys he had said. but you didn’t want to intrude on their tasks. you already felt like you were overreacting and the boys knew you too well. you knew they’d worry about you and set their own things aside to make sure you’re okay, but you didn’t want them to do that, feeling like a burden. 
you push yourself up from the table and swing your legs over the bench. with no idea what to do the rest of the day you make your way back up to your room, checking the last couple of assignments off of your to-do list, watering the plants, stoking the fire in the room when the evening chill started to roll around and the sun had disappeared behind the clouds. you had picked up your book again, but to no avail. you were bored, extremely. and you don’t hold it against your friends, knowing that they have things to do as well since classes are starting soon again. but you had spent the entire spring break hanging out almost every day, and the one day that was important to you, they couldn’t. 
you felt left behind. turning around one more time on your bed, you let out a sigh of annoyance. Another birthday spent doing nothing, another birthday spent alone, another birthday spent depressed. you had learned your lesson the past couple of years not expecting much. but it was your last year at Hogwarts, your last year spent with friends. you had hoped this year would be different. not a quick ‘happy birthday, and we’ll see you again tonight when we are already half asleep.’ 
Was it unfair to think that way? yes, but you couldn’t care at the moment. you were feeling lonely and bored. but you picked yourself up enough to at least head  to dinner, where you were greeted with all of your friends sitting together, laughing and having fun. you walked over to Remus and sat beside him quietly, giving him a tight lipped smile while he kissed you on your temple and put his hand on your thigh. 
The entirety of dinner had been spent in silence while your friends talked. they had tried to get you to join the conversation, but your energy had been drained from the constant worrying the entire day. the hand on your thigh had left when Remus had to start eating, but the second he was done it was around your waist pulling you in closer.
"You wanna talk?” he whispered into your ear, his hot breath a comfort on your neck. you looked up at him and shook your head softly with a thin smile, not quite reaching your eyes. the thumb on your waist moves ever so slightly, rubbing comforting circles into your skin. Remus hymned and turned back to his friends, his hand not leaving your side. 
When they finished with their meal, Remus slid his arm back and grabbed your hand to bring you along with him. you walked along with your friends, every so often listening in on their conversation. you followed them up onto the moving stairs but only raised your head when you passed the door to the gryffindor common room. Remus let out a soft chuckle, his grip on your hand getting tighter. you walked after him as he dragged you up more and more stairs.
entering the top corridor the girls giggle as they open up one of the doors to an empty classroom, and Peter walks up to you, circling around until he puts his hands in front of your eyes and covers them. you let out an annoyed sigh, but smile nonetheless. Remus leads your hand further into the room where he leaves you waiting.
you tap your foot impatiently and Peter clicks his tongue in response. you hear slight rustling in the background and Marlene and Sirius whispering, although it’s louder than they probably intend to, seeing as they are bickering about godric knows what. but the noises slowly die down and someone is back at your side again holding onto your right hand. 
Peter slowly slid his hands away from your face and in front of you laid a couple of blankets with candles and a bunch of food and drinks on the floor. the tables and chairs had been pushed to the side. you look to your right seeing James and squeezing onto his hand tighter, giving him a grateful smile. He lets go of your hand and wraps it around your waist, pulling you into him. 
your eyes stare in awe at the scene in front of you. your friends standing around you with a happy smile. Mary shakes out her hands and squeals and before she can contain herself, she runs over to you and envelopes both you and James in a tight hug. 
“didn’t think we’d forget now, huh love?” you shake your head and she pulls back from your embrace holding your face in her hands. “Happy birthday sweetheart.” you give her a sweet smile and they both release, just far enough for your other friends to congratulate you. 
pulling back from all the hugs, you all make your way down to the middle of the room, filled with sweets. sitting cross-legged on the blanket across from your friends, squished between your boyfriends, you felt slightly guilty.
you couldn’t believe you thought they were capable of forgetting, or just not wanting to celebrate your birthday. or thinking they didn’t know you well enough to know how you wanted to spend your birthday. you silently scold yourself on your mistrust towards your boys and try to focus back on the scene in front of you. 
you lean into James’ embrace next to you while he puts his arm around your shoulder and try to relax into it as much as possible. “Thank you, darling,” you whisper to him. “I love it.” he just winks and holds you tighter. 
The night carries on with lots of laughter while you stuff your mouths with a bunch of food and the alcohol, which you can only assume Sirius and Mary took care of. it was getting late and everyone was relatively tipsy, you all decided it was best to head up back to bed. standing up from Sirius’ lap, all of you stumbled your way back down all the stairs and into the common room, getting dirty looks from the paintings. He held onto your waist tightly as you walked up towards the boys’ dormitory. 
taking off your shoes next to the door, you walk over to the fireplace in the centre of the room, stoking the fire with a spell, instantly warming the room. You watch as you see your boys make their way over to the bathroom individually. Coming out with pyjamas and brushed teeth, the padding of their socked feet towards their beds. You quickly ascend to the bathroom yourself, the stressful day had made you quite tired, and the slight state of drunkenness you were in didn’t help either. 
You quickly took off your makeup and brushed out your hair and teeth. Getting out of your clothes and putting on your pyjamas. You lean your head down and take a sip of water from the faucet and make your way back to their dormitory. Getting into Remus' bed you sit cross legged on the cover. 
“I’m sorry if i acted odd tonight, i loved what you guys did for me, honestly. It was the best birthday.” you say softly. Sirius's face contorts into one of confusion and he cocks his head up towards you. “What are you talking about, love?” James crosses over from his bed to yours and leans against the bedpost, his arms crossed on his chest. 
“You were fine sweetheart, but if something is bothering you, you know you can always talk about it with us right?” you nod and give James a soft smile. Remus pats your thigh. 
“Come’ere.”  you climb up higher on the bed and throw your leg over his lap, making eye contact with your lover. He gives you a soft peck on your forehead and his thumb draws circles into your waist. You feel a dip in the mattress behind you and feel Sirius his hand brush the hair away from your neck and shoulder, leaving soft peck along the neckline of your pyjama shirt. You lean into their embrace and let out a soft sigh.
You see James get on the bed on the other side of you and look over at him. “You want us to take care of you? Or do you just want to cuddle until we fall asleep?” you’re already letting go of your inhibitions while in the hold of your boyfriends, and you know they will take care of you. 
“Take care of me please.” you let out softly, looking up at him with sweet eyes. He gives you an adorning smile and a kiss on the cheek. 
Remus his hands slowly slip under your shirt, rubbing the skin underneath. He spreads his hands across your back, “lean back for me sweetheart.” Sirius whispers in your ear as his lips ghost across your jawline. You look at Remus and he nods at you, he holds you as you lean back into Sirius his arms, your shoulders resting on his chest. 
Sirius his hands move down towards the hem of your shirt and slowly inches it upwards. His knuckles grazing your skin, leaving behind goosebumps as his cold hands touch you. He moves until he reached the underside of your boobs. 
“Can i, love?” you nod as best as you can. He lifts the shirt over your breasts and skims his hands over them, brushing along your nipples and pinching them slightly. You let out a soft sigh at the contact and look away from his movements and make eye contact with Remus who winks at you. He gestures over at James to get closer and you feel James moving on the bed as he leans down on your level.
He softly brushes some stray hairs away from your face and leans in closer kissing your lips softly. You fully let go in the embrace of your lovers doting on you and your body. The kiss quickly turns a lot more fierce and you realise in this position both of your bodies have to contort to kiss properly, so James makes his way down your body, jaw, neck, clavicle bones, and just under your shirt where Sirius pulls his hands away to give James free reign to pleasure you. 
James leaves wet kisses all on your breast, and soft bites around your nipples leaving slight marks all over your chest. He finally wraps his lips around your left nipple and sucks lightly. You let out a moan at his administration and he groans around your nipples, heat flows down your body. 
Sweat starts to form on your forehead and you notice how much of a strain your body is being put on being in this position. You move your hand to tug on Remus' arms.
“You like how he’s making you feel darling?” you nod but a slight grimace pulls at your face. “This position, baby, it’s slightly uncomfortable, I'm sorry.” you apologise to them. Sirius tuts behind you and moves his hands behind your shoulder blades to give you some elevation to get up properly. 
Being sat back on Remus' lap, he slowly lifts you up from off of his lap and moves you next to him on the bed, the spot James was previously occupying. Sitting up on the bed you roll your shoulder around, letting the tight spots ease. You remove your shirt entirely from your body and Sirius softly pushes at your sternum, easing you onto your back, your head resting on the pillows. 
James resumes his former position, leaning over you and softly kissing your chest and upwards, now finally having the space to kiss your neck and leave marks all over. Sirius, who is still sitting between your legs, ghosts his hands across your stomach and reaches the waistband of your pyjama pants. He hooks his fingers underneath the band and glides them across your waist, teasing you. 
You panting beneath them, wishing they would just do more. Having 3 boyfriends and still not getting where you need them seems pathetic, but Remus just finds your frustrations comical and sweet. He puts his hand on your forehead and strokes the top of your head. 
Sirius his hands finally make their way down when he pulls down your pants and underwear at the same time, helping you lift your hips and pulling them all the way down your legs and throwing them next to the bed. You have half a mind to tell him it’s gross to leave clothes lying on the floor, but James his lips are back on your nipples and thinking straight with them is just too difficult. 
He brushes his hands on your calves, massaging them and pushing them up, leaving your knees bent. You feel Remus’ hands skim across your stomach downwards, a ghost of a touch on your mound leaving goosebumps in his wake. 
“Please, Rem?” with the comforting touch of Sirius’ hands on your calves, soothing you into a deeper rest, you can’t help but beg for Remus to touch you. 
“Since it’s your birthday, sweetheart, I'll go easy on you.” His voice sounds rough, but he complies immediately. His middle finger and ring finger skim over your slit collecting wetness from your core and he circles your clit with them. You whine, the touch of James his lips and teeth on your nipple and Remus his light circular movements on your bundle of nerves, makes you set alight. 
They’re barely doing anything, but it’s making you let out all sorts of noises you’ll probably be embarrassed about tomorrow, but for now you couldn’t care, knowing it only eggs your partners on further. 
Remus his fingers slowly move down to your hole circling it, teasing it, before finally pushing on finger in slowly. He eases it into you, taking his time, moving it in and out slowly. He watches your face intently. Making sure to catch any noise you let out, and face you make and any sign of unease. He sees your hands grab onto the blanket and takes it as his queue to add a second finger. 
No matter how many times the four of you have sex, the stretch never gets any easier. You scrunch your face up slightly. “Am i good to continue, or do you need a second?” he asks, and you have half a mind to tell him to shut up and continue, but you find it so endearing how caring he still is. “You’re good to continue, baby, was just a pinch.” he nods and continues pushing into you, but this time at a much slower pace, taking extra caution. 
Once he feels you’re rightly accommodated to the stretch, he starts pumping in slowly again. Taking his time dragging his fingers against your walls, your pussy quivering around his fingers. You feel every drag with his slow pace, the way he barely misses your g-spot. 
Your hand curls around his wrist and he gives you a smirk. “You want more, baby?” he hymns at you.  You just nod to the best of your ability. He increases his pace, only ever so slightly making you whine. You liked when he teased, but it was god damn frustrating. 
Your nails scratch at his wrist and pull at his hand hoping to speed it up even more, but Remus is relentless in giving you what you want. He makes a tsks noise, hoping to tell you off, but he sees the desperate look on your face and he almost gives in.
“Be good for me baby, and you’ll get what you want.” you nodded fervently at him. James leaves a peck on your cheek and makes his way over to your lips, kissing you with renowned vigour. Tongue sliding in your mouth. 
You feel the butterflies in your stomach making rounds at the slow pace, not enough to make you cum, but it leaves you teetering on the edge. Sirius moves closer to you, your legs on either side of his hips. He slowly takes off his shirt, making it a show for you. He leans down to give a kiss on your knee and pushes himself down onto the bed, laying down on his stomach in between you. 
Remus makes a move to take his fingers out of you, but the hand that’s on his wrist holds him there. 
“Sweetheart, let go, Sirius wants to make you feel good, don’t you wanna cum?” he asks in such an endearing voice. You moan into James’ mouth and he takes it as a queue to lean back and observe. You whine for him, wanting to feel the taste of his lips back on your once more, but he just gives you a sympathetic smile and mouths an apology at you. 
Sirius begins by slowly kissing up and down the inside of your thigh. He sucks onto the skin leaving marks behind, maroons and reds splotched all over your legs, small indentations of bite marks etched into your skin. He kisses the juncture between your thigh and mound and puts his thumbs onto your vulva.
His thumbs spread your lips apart and he lets out a groan at the sight, wetness covering your entire pussy, your hole quivering from the need to cum. You feel a warmth spread over your face all the way down to your chest. He latches his lips onto your clit, sucking on it harshly. 
“Holy fuck.” he hums around your bundle of nerves making electricity shoot up. He agrees with your sentiment. You were on edge form cumming the whole time Remus was fingering you, and this just shoots you right over the edge. Your hands make their way downwards, grabbing onto Sirius his long hair and pulling, hard. He lets out a moan at the roughness and scrapes his teeth against your clit. You give a short warning before your orgasm takes full control. You scratch at his scalp as you pull, as Sirius pulls you through the afterwaves of your orgasm. You feel your chest going up and down, heaving. 
Sirius gives a loving pat on your inner thigh before moving up again, and getting off of the bed, standing next to James on the left side of the bed. You look over at them and you feel Remus, who is still sitting beside you on the bed, take your hand and grab onto it. 
James scurries out of his clothes, first his shirt, revealing his toned chest from quidditch. Then his pyjama pants. You see Sirius next to him gulp as James’ cock springs up. James his face contorts into a look of proudness. A smirk plastered onto his face. He resumes his movements and gets onto the bed taking Sirius his former position between your legs. He spits onto the palm of his hand and strokes his cock slowly. 
“You ready, doll?” he asks you before inching closer. You let out a soft please and he strokes his cock up and down your slit. Gathering your wetness before slowly pressing into you. He inches in closer and closer, taking his time with you, letting you get adjusted to the stretch of his cock. 
You breathe in deeply, in through your nose, out through your mouth. Taking the time to enjoy the moment and feel the intimacy with your lovers. Remus who is feeling up your breasts, encompassing them with his hands and squeezing them, pinching your nipples and rolling them between his thumb. 
Sirius is still by your side, holding your hand and stroking his thumb up and comforting you. His other hand pushing away fly hairs and stroking your head, creating a soft moment between you both. Looking up at him, you can see the love and adoration in his eyes and he gives you a sweet smile. 
James’ hands rest on your waist, pressing into the skin there, you know he’s trying to hold himself back, but he’s trying to be considerate, your sweet boy. 
“It’s okay James, please.” you give him an encouraging nod and he stares at you for a while, trying to see if you are truly okay. Finding no resistance, he pushes further in almost bottoming out inside of you. He inches out slowly and pushes back in with careful intention, making sure to make you feel every drag slide against your walls. Hearing the lewd sounds the two of you make, feeling your hole contract around him. 
You both let out a sigh of relief at the sensation followed by a deep moan. He makes sure to hit you deep and slowly, dragging the sensations out. All that you feel, everything you feel coursing through your body is love. Undevoted love. Enveloped by your boyfriends, taking care of you in the way that you need. 
It encompasses your very being and you feel yourself tune out everything around you except for the feeling of safety, the pleasure of their comfort. Peace. You know they see it, see how you’re feeling, or maybe they even feel it themselves, because Sirius is squeezing tighter around your hand and Remus gives intentional soft strokes around your breast. It makes you want to cry and release every emotion you’ve felt for a while. Wanting to cry out in pure ecstasy. 
“It’s okay, you’re safe with us.” Remus tells you and you let a single tear drop when you squeeze your eyes shut. A silent ‘fuck’ leaves your mouth and your eyebrows scrunch together. They just hold you closer.
James picks up his pace slightly, his thumb moving to your clit, rolling circles on it with the pad of his finger, increasing the pleasure that shoots through your body. 
He digs his knees deeper into the mattress, laying the top of his feet flat on the bed and shifting his hips just ever so slightly, lowering them closer to the bed and his cock drags against your walls deliciously. 
James feels all his nerves being set on fire, feeling the tightening of your walls around him, the wetness making it so easy to glide in, and he feels the tip of his cock hit that spongy spot inside of you. Making you keen,
You lean your head back, releasing a loud moan. Your eyes shoot open and you grab at the bedsheet. Curling your toes and enclosing your thighs around James’ hips. You feel the familiar flare in the bottom of your stomach, the butterflies fluttering around. 
“Baby? Babes, I'm gonna cum, please.” you beg of James and he keeps repeatedly hitting your g-spot, keeping up the pace as before and tightening the circles he makes around your clit. He lets out a high pitched whine and looks down at where your bodies are connected, seeing your arousal around his cock, your hole pulsing around him. The stickiness on his thumb. 
Your breath hitches, Remus pinches your nipple, Sirius gives you a sweet kiss on your forehead and the soft strokes of James gives you everything you need to orgasm again. You squeeze tightly around James his cock and James hisses at the constriction, cumming just after you. He pumps in just a little bit longer, riding out both of your orgasms, until both of you become too sensitive. 
“You did so well darling, so beautiful for us, happy birthday baby.” 
(Down below my bday cake cuz y’all need to see it)
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506 notes · View notes
tonyspank · 10 months
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CAUGHT
Warnings: G!P Reader, smut, almost getting caught
Summary: You really need to stop sneaking in through your girlfriends window.
A/N: end of the 1,000 follower special because i lost my complete draft of nasty & i hate shirt’s prologue so i have to rewrite it whenever i get the chance!
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Sneaking into Tara's window was supposed to be a one time thing. She had texted you asking you to come over at midnight, and you had agreed. You had only meant to stay for a few minutes, but you ended up spending the whole night talking and laughing. You knew it was wrong, but it was worth it.
The second time you snuck through Tara's window was two days later. You had promised yourself it wouldn't happen again, but you couldn't help it. You found yourself returning to Tara's window again and again, until sneaking through her window became a regular occurrence. Soon, you discovered that the feeling of sneaking into Tara's room was not just thrilling, but comforting as well. You felt safe and secure in those late night visits, like you had a special secret between the two of you.
Sam was one protective sister and if she found out you had been sneaking through her window she would have been furious. Sam didn't even approve of you and Tara dating in the first place, so she would have been livid if she found out you were coming over late at night. She would have probably had some choice words to say, if not more. Sam was a force to be reckoned with and she wouldn't have let you get away with it. In fact, she would have likely put a stop to it immediately and made sure you never came back.
It's not like you snuck into Tara's room every single day, it was like a weekly thing to do. It felt nice to sleep next to each other even if it was for a couple of hours. You never stayed past midnight but it was enough to make you feel connected. It was a nice escape from reality.
This time, it was different. Tara didn't approach you on campus with a kiss like she usually does before asking you to sneak through her window. This time she texted you randomly at 10:18 PM. You had never seen her do that before, texting you so late. You were a bit worried, but you decided to text back and ask her what was going on.
tara <3 : can u come over
you : what's wrong?
tara <3 : please. just come over. my windows open
you : okay im omw, but is everything okay?
You pause your movements from grabbing your coat as your phone vibrates in your pocket. It's a voice message from Tara, you immediately click play, the audio playing in your right airpod. Your eyes nearly budge out of their sockets as you stare at your screen. Tara moans your name, and you can hear heavy breathing as she stutters out her message. You feel your cheeks flush with heat as you quickly shut off the message. You look around, glancing at a sleeping Chad and Ethan on the other side of your dorm room.
Forgetting about your jacket, you leave the dorm room in a hurry, almost tripping over Ethan's slides in the doorway. You take the stairs two at a time as you rush out the door, hoping to make a quick escape. As you step out into the fresh air, you walk as fast as you can to Tara's apartment, your heart pounding in your chest. You arrive at her window, opening it and calling out her name. She appears at the window, half naked, red cheeks, and a smile on her face.
"You're such a tea—" you're cut off by a pair of soft lips onto yours. You wrap your arms around her waist, feeling the warmth of her skin against yours. You pull back, looking into her eyes and she smiles, resting a hand on the side of your neck before pulling you into a more heated kiss.
You reluctantly break away, both of you breathing heavily. She looks into your eyes before gripping your white tee, trying to pull it off your body. You look around, knowing you should stop, but you can't help but smirk as you allow her to pull it off. She then moves to your Batman pajama pants, roughly pulling them down.
She moves back and looks at you with a sly smile, her eyes roaming your body. You laugh at her before taking her into her arms, your lips meeting in a passionate kiss as you both fall onto the bed. You savor the moment, feeling the warmth of her skin against yours, straddling the shorter girl.
She smiles against your lips before pushing you away gently, her hands running over your abs. You smile at the brunette under you, "What's got you so needy?" She blushes and looks away, biting her lip. "I guess I just want you," she whispers, her eyes finding yours again. You lean back down and kiss her deeply, letting her know without words how much you want her too.
She wraps her arms around your neck, pulling you closer. You can feel her heart beating faster in her chest, and you feel overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment. Your lips leave hers, moving to attack her neck. She moans softly, her grip on you tightening. You can feel her trembling, and you know she's as lost in the moment as you are.
She pulls you even closer, her head thrown back in pleasure as you continue to explore her neck with your lips. You can feel her body trembling with anticipation, and you know you can't wait any longer.
You move your lips down to her chest, your hand moves her bra away desperately, your lips finding her hardening nipples. She gasps with pleasure as you slowly move your tongue over her nipples, teasing them into arousal. You can feel her body arching in response, her hands finding their way tangled in your hair.
You move lower, trailing kisses down her body, feeling her shudder beneath your touch. You reach her stomach, exploring her with your tongue as you make your way lower. Your hands find her hips, and you move your mouth to the place between her legs.
You feel her body tense, her breath coming in short gasps as your tongue caresses her. She murmurs softly, her pleasure evident in her voice. You move your hands to her thighs, feeling her trembling with anticipation as you continue your exploration.
"No," she gasps out. You pull away, confused. She takes a deep breath, trying to steady her breathing. She looks up at you, her eyes full of desire.
"I want your cock," she finally whispers, her voice full of need.
You smile, feeling triumphant as you pull down your underwear. She wraps her hand around your length, her touch gentle but sure. You lean in and kiss her, your tongues entwining in passion. You take her then, pushing her to heights of pleasure like she's never known before.
"Fuck." She mutters as you bottom out inside of her. You stay there for a moment, allowing her to savor the feeling before you move in and out of her in a steady, rhythmical motion. "You're so wet, Tara." You groan, gripping the pillow she rests her head on.
She throws her head back and moans in pleasure, her grip on you tightening. You can feel her muscles contracting around you, pulling you deeper into her. "Shit, shit, faster, fuck..." She screams in pleasure, her body trembling with every thrust which is harder and faster as she requested.
Tara's legs wrap around your waist, and her breathing becomes more labored as you push her closer and closer to the edge. She didn't exactly tell you Sam was home, but the idea of her being caught made her pleasure intensify. One of her hands leave your back, moving to hold your forearm as her eyes roll back in pleasure. "Oh my god...fuck, Y/N."
You let out a satisfied moan as her body shudders beneath yours. She reaches her peak before you do, her body going limp beneath you as she's filled with warmth and contentment. You lean down to kiss her softly slowing down your movements to help her ride out her high.
Sam sits up in her bed, her eyebrows furrowed as she swore she just heard the sound of moaning coming from down the hallway. But hearing it's silent, she lies back down, trying to fall back asleep. She listens for a few moments more, before deciding it was just her imagination. With a sigh, she turns over, trying to get comfortable enough to fall back asleep.
Until, she hears it again.
Tara's face is now buried in her pillow, her arms being pulled back behind her as your hips thrust into her relentlessly. She gasps in pleasure as her body moves with yours, pushing back into you with each thrust. A loud slap is heard throughout the room, followed by Tara's moans of pleasure. Her back arches as you build up to your climax, your movements becoming more and more frenzied.
You lean into Tara, letting go of her arms as you wrap a hand around her throat, pulling her back against your chest. She calls out your name as her body trembles, "Y/N...I'm about to cum..." You tighten your grip, pushing her closer to you as your other hand caresses her body. She gasps and her body quivers as you move your hand lower, and her breathing begins to deepen. "Me too, baby."
Sam angrily stomps through her apartment, her body subconsciously walking to Quinn's room. She stops in front of the door, noticing the moans still sound far away. This causes even more confusion in her brows, and she realizes it's coming from Tara's room. Her legs move even faster.
Sam slams open the door to Tara's room, only to find Tara asleep in her bed. Sam stands there, dumbfounded. She can't believe it was all a dream. She quietly closes the door and slowly walks back to her own room, her mind filled with confusion.
You let out a breath, moving from under the bed. "That was so fucking scary." You stand up and Tara watches you with a small smirk on her lips. "I wouldn't let Sam hurt you, baby. You know that." You roll your eyes at your girlfriend, grabbing your shirt to finish getting dressed. You then laugh, pulling your shirt over your head. "Suree..."
Tara pulls you in for a hug, her arms wrapping around your waist. You can feel the warmth of her embrace, and it immediately relaxes you. You press a kiss to her forehead, mumbling against it. "I'll see you tomorrow, love."
She squeezes you tight, before finally letting go. You take a few steps back, smiling at her before turning around and waving goodbye. Tara smiles back, waving as you leave through her window.
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biteofcherry · 4 months
Text
Echo that thunders
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Bucky Barnes x female reader
summary: The life you and Bucky built has crumbled. Or so you think. But maybe some ruins can be reconstructed, if true love is given a chance?
warnings: angst; lots of feels; hurt/comfort; divorced couple; mention of past infidelity; marital problems; both Reader and Bucky are self-blaming and self-punishing idiots; and obviously are still deeply in love; they need therapy and I encourage that; reconciling intimacy (yes, I mean sex with feelings and tears); Alpine is almost squeezed to death with love (truly affectionately);
word count: 6k
Author's Note: This is my entry for Eight Types of Love challenge from @the-slumberparty. I took a twist on pragma: exes with feelings.
Bucky Barnes Masterlist
Main Masterlist
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Every week the hollow in your chest would ache and you’d try to cram it with sweetness of fleeting moments: catching the pure joy and love on your little boy’s face, mulling your sorrow with pastries that you’d eat alone, then quiet your longing with laughter and shouts of your friends. 
You made it look like it was easy, like you didn’t die a little every damn Friday when you drove your son to his father’s place. 
Maybe you’d feel better if it was the mother missing her baby boy for the weekend, but the wounds opened not for the few days of empty nest, but because seeing Bucky ripped you to pieces. 
You wouldn’t avoid it, though. He loved your son so much, was so happy to spend every possible day with him and you would never take that away from either of them. 
Even if it hurt. 
Truth be told, you wouldn’t let anyone take that away from you, either. Because the pain of seeing Bucky was also sprinkled with that fluttering, bittersweet feeling. Love that you still harbored. 
You didn’t think it was possible to ever stop loving Bucky. 
As you proved, it was possible to divorce him, but it didn’t sever the hold he had on your heart and soul. 
So you welcomed the ache in your chest as an invisible iron fist clenched its cold claws around your heart, when Bucky smiled and waved at you from the sidewalk in front of his building. You knew he waved at your little boy, who was already bouncing in his seat, but you couldn’t help the smile spreading on your lips in return.
“Hi, rascals!” Bucky greeted you, the same way he’s been greeting the both of you ever since your son was born. 
He waited for you to round the car after you parked it, loosely wrapping an arm around your middle and giving you that awkward half-hug. 
You assumed it was as awkward for him as it was for you, though for different reasons.
Bucky was simply nice, trying his hardest to maintain a good rapport with you for the sake of your son, while he had to be repulsed by you inwardly. For you, the hug was difficult, because you always craved to bury yourself within his arms and feel that protective, loving hold. 
“Hi,” you smiled and ducked under his arm, before he noticed that pathetic longing shining in your eyes. 
You went to retrieve a small bag and backpack with Stevie’s clothes and belongings, while Bucky unbuckled your son from the car seat and scooped the boy up in his arms. Joyous squeal “Daddy!” melted you all over again, reminding you how ecstatic the boy was every time Bucky returned home - no matter if he’s been gone a few days on a mission, or just an hour running errands. 
When you turned to them, the sight of them grinning at each other froze you on the spot. You were aware that Stevie shared some of Bucky’s mimics, but it was that moment when your boy pressed his cheek to Bucky’s and they both looked your way with lopsided grins that shattered your heart into pieces. 
You squashed the flare of sorrow inside, saving it for later when you’re alone with a pint of ice cream. 
Bucky had suggested a couple of times that he could come pick Stevie up from your place, but you were too scared of seeing Bucky back in the apartment where you all used to live together. Where the love and happiness were supposed to be forever. 
You were scared he’d come inside and see that you still had a few photographs of him on the shelves. 
You reasoned that it was for the sake of your son, so that he felt his dad’s presence at all times, but you couldn’t fully let go of Bucky yourself. 
“Hey,” Bucky took the bag from your hands, but left you holding Stevie’s backpack. “Can you come upstairs for a second? I wanted to talk something over.”
He always invited you under the pretext of talking over some details regarding Stevie, but ended up dealing with it in two sentences and then coaxing you into a neutral small talk that left you all the more missing him. 
Yet you couldn’t force yourself to say no. 
“Sure.” You nodded, squeezing the strap of the small, red backpack in your trembling fingers. 
Bucky’s apartment, which he got after you filed for divorce, was small, but clean and spacious enough for a four year old and a cat.   
Alpine stuck her head from behind a wall when you entered. She made a tiny meowing sound and walked forward, but the second Bucky put your son on his feet the cat bolted away. Stevie of course followed, running after the furball with glee.
“So I know there’s still plenty of time to plan summer vacation-” Bucky started, leading you toward the counter separating the kitchen from the living room- “but Sam invited us to Louisiana, to spend a few weeks at his sister’s place.”
“Oh.” It was instinctive, that very first thought about your baby boy being away for weeks. In a different state, nonetheless. 
However, you promised yourself to not be an overprotective, controlling mother. And you trusted Bucky with your son at all times. 
“That sounds fun.” You relaxed your shoulders and smiled. “I’m sure Stevie will love it. Especially if you take him on a boat.”
He was in a marine fascination phase. At least once every few weeks you had to go to the aquarium and turn on Discovery channel instead of morning cartoons. 
“Maybe I’ll manage to re-do his bedroom, while he’s away with you,” cogs in your brain started turning. “It’d be a fun surprise when he gets back.” 
“Won’t you need help with that?” Bucky asked, perking up. “We could do that on the weekend when he’s with your parents? You know I’d be happy to help. We can rope Sam into it, too.”
He sounded so eager. For a fleeting moment you enjoyed the warmth at the thought of the two of you doing something for your son together, but you quickly reminded yourself that Bucky would do absolutely anything for Stevie, including dealing with your presence.    
“Umm, sure,” you swallowed nervously, “if you’re not on a mission.”
You regretted saying it, seeing a flash of guilt on Bucky’s face. 
It was a sore subject and bringing it up hurt you both. 
You always admired Bucky for what he did, how much he risked to save others. It didn’t change the fact, however, that saving the world meant neglecting you at times. He tried his best, you knew he did. Still, it hurt when you spent some nights and celebrations alone. 
“We’ve made some changes on the rooster.” Bucky didn’t look at you as he talked, instead focusing on taking out ingredients from the fridge. “It’s doable to book some dates as non-active.”
“That’s good!” You tried to sound genuinely happy for him, while inside you felt a wave of rage that the accommodation wasn’t made when you needed it in the past. “All of you deserve rest and to, you know, live your private lives, too.” 
“Yeah.” Bucky’s shoulders drove up in tension even as he nodded. 
You stayed quiet for a long moment, the sound of your son’s giggles coming from the bedroom where he chased Alpine filled the space, but didn’t ease the sudden heaviness. 
“I better-” you started at the same time that Bucky began:
“Do you want to-”
Both of you paused, but before either motioned at the other to finish, you were interrupted by a pitiful meow and soft paddle of your four year old’s feet.
You both turned and watched your son wobble as he carried Alpine. Though carried was a bit of a stretch to describe two tiny arms tightly wrapped around the upper half of the cat’s body, with its head barely sticking out and two front legs sticking upwards while the rest of the furry body dangled down. 
You quickly covered your mouth to stifle the burst of laughter, but Bucky behind you couldn’t help the snort. 
“Buddy.” He moved around the counter and crouched in front of Stevie. “Alpine knows you love her lots and want to play with her, but this is a bit uncomfortable for her.”
You thought the cat is an actual saint for not having yet scratched Stevie for all the love she was getting from him. 
“Hey!” You chimed in, reaching for the small backpack. “You forgot about the present you have for Alpine.”
“Mousey!” Stevie dropped the cat almost instantly and ran towards you. 
“A present, huh?” Bucky placated Alpine, scratching her behind the ear while she rubbed against his leg. 
“Made it with mommy!” Your son beamed proudly after you fished out the small toy from his backpack. “For artses-” which was his version of saying art classes. “But mommy said it’s perfect for Apine.”
It was a bright blue, slightly askew, crocheted mouse. With a very, very long tail. You thought it would be perfect for Stevie to hold the end of the tail and slide the mouse across the floor, so Alpine could chase it.
“It really is,” Bucky nodded, noticing that the soft toy had caught Alpine’s attention. “Why don’t you run around with it, play nicely with Alpine, while I make us spaghetti?”
Stevie didn’t have to be told twice. Alpine seemed eager for this kind of play, as well. Chasing a new toy surely was more preferable than being squeezed to death. 
Bucky straightened. His tall, broad figure filled your vision. He was much closer now, with no counter separating you. He looked after your son fondly, then his soft gaze switched to you. Not for a second did the affection fade in his eyes as he looked at you. 
“Thank you,” he almost whispered, touching your shoulder gently.
You wanted to blurt out that there was nothing to thank for, but you understood what he meant. The same way you were grateful for his concern whenever you had a cold and he took Stevie so you could rest (bringing you some chicken broth on his way), or that he picked you up when your car died. The small gestures each of you displayed, that betrayed care neither of you seemed to be able to lose. 
Bucky’s hand slowly slid down your arm and because you were so lost in the blue of his eyes and the tenderness of the moment, you forgot to brace yourself for the small sting that his touch brought when he passed your forearm.
You winced. 
Unfortunately, Bucky noticed.
Instantly, he stilled. His hand remained on your forearm, but his touch eased. His gaze flicked from your face to the spot covered by your sleeve and up to your face again. 
“What is it?” Worry pinched his features. “Are you injured?”
He moved even closer, angling his head so he could maintain eye contact with you, even though he towered over you. He gently took your wrist into his metal hand and carefully rolled your sleeve up. 
“It’s nothing. It’s-” 
Words died on your tongue when Bucky’s gaze hardened, a muscle in his jaw twitching, as his gaze landed on the injured spot. 
There were no visible bruises. Not to you, anyway. You mostly felt the tenderness of that area than saw any marks. But Bucky’s senses were enhanced and he definitely could see the difference in the smallest changes of your skin, the barest hint of different pigmentation. 
And, much to your dismay, you could never lie to him. 
“Who did that?” Bucky kept calm, but you sensed the concern bursting into protective rage inside of him. 
“Someone, who is no longer in the picture.” You replied, tilting your chin up. “I may have not expected it happening, but once it did, I wouldn’t chance it repeating.”
The whole attempt at dating was so uncomfortable for you, but seeing some pap pictures of Bucky with an unknown female had made you impulsively agree to the fifth invite from a guy from accountants. 
It was irrational and irresponsible - as some of your past mistakes. There was nothing that suggested Bucky and that woman were connected in any way beside the work area. They weren’t even alone in that place. It’s just that he had his hand on her back and she was giving him a flirtatious smile. 
Well, your jealous brain told you it’s flirtatious. The same brain that forgot to remind you that it was no longer your business if and whom Bucky was dating.
So you went on the stupid date yourself, feeling all kinds of wrong during it. Then got a glimpse of what shit you almost got yourself into, when you wanted to end your date short and the guy called you a tease. His hold on your forearm when you tried to leave was forceful enough to leave a painful reminder. 
“I’d still like to know the name.” Bucky’s gaze shone a dark glint; plates in his metal arm moved in a reflection of muscles tensing. 
“No need.” Placing your free hand on his chest to soothe him was a habit, you didn’t even realize you were doing it. “I promise you, he won’t ever find himself near Stevie.”      
Bucky frowned at that. Suddenly, he was letting go of your arm and cupping the side of your face instead.
“Baby,” it slipped out of his mouth as mindlessly and naturally as you touched him. 
“I know you’d never let anyone hurt our son. But no harm should come your way, either. The guy deserves having his fingers dislocated.”
Bucky wasn’t a violent person. His past, which was beyond his control, painted a certain picture that some people still believed in. But you knew how soft-hearted and kind he really was. He used force and combat in missions, but his teammates knew he would be the first one to show mercy and pull back his punches. 
However, he was protective. And when he entered that mode, he could be very scary. 
Your fingers on his chest clenched slightly, gripping the fabric of his soft, blue henley; as if you were trying to stop him from marching away and finding whoever posed as a threat.
You felt the steady thud of Bucky’s heartbeat beneath your palm, the rhythm of his breath. You sensed the moment his muscles slightly relaxed.
“How about-” hands cupping your face slowly slid down and away, but Bucky didn’t put any distance between you- “you stay for dinner and we’ll talk more about it later?” 
There was nothing to talk about, really. Or maybe there was, but it shouldn’t be Bucky giving you the talk. His concern only messed with your head and your heart, leaving you with incomparable longing and aching solitude when you went back home. 
You opened your mouth to refuse his proposal, but your son suddenly found himself nearby and torpedoed your resilience.
“You gonna stay mommy?” He looked up at you with big, hopeful eyes. 
Bucky and you made sure to be together for important events like Stevie’s birthday, or kindergarten recitals, or even for the 4th of July. But day to day everything happened separately. You didn’t share meals, or walks, or trips the way you used to when you were married. 
You were aware of the impact it had on your son, but one can’t be divorced and still spend every day with each other. 
However, you couldn’t find the strength at the moment to crush your son’s unexpected spark of joy at the prospect of something so simple like spending the afternoon with both of his parents. 
You couldn’t deny your deep, wallowing desire to spend some more time in Bucky’s presence, either. As self-harming as it could be. 
“Um-” you swallowed nervously as you looked down at your little boy. “Yeah- yes, I’ll stay. You know I always liked your daddy’s cooking.” 
Your heart nearly burst when Stevie launched himself forward, wrapping his small arms around yours and Bucky’s legs. Then he was running away, with even more bounce to his skip than before. 
To your relief, Bucky easily switched the topic to casual conversation as you joined him in the kitchen to help prepare dinner. He told you a few latest, funny stories; gushed about a new book series he started reading; asked about your dad’s knee surgery. 
Falling into this comfortable pattern of domesticity with him was too easy. Like you haven’t been living separately for the past year, nursing deeply hidden resentment (which you expected from Bucky) and heartbreak. You knew it would hit you harder when you got back home, step into that silent, empty bedroom, which once upon a time was your nest of safety, laughter and love. 
All of which you blew up. 
You didn’t protest too strongly when Bucky fed your son an extra portion of ice cream after dinner, you were too distracted with your own ache that was spreading its nasty vines over you. 
You played with the melting scoops in your own bowl as Bucky picked up a half-asleep Stevie and carried him to the bedroom. Alpine trotter right after them. From the occasional pictures that Bucky sent you when Stevie was staying at his place, you knew that the cat would jump onto the bed next to your boy and fall asleep with him. 
When Bucky returned and sat beside you on the couch, his presence almost toppled you into a sobbing fit. 
Once upon a time, you’d cuddle on the sofa in your living room and talk for hours, or watch shows, or make out. Even sitting in silence, while Bucky read a book and you browsed social media, was comforting and easy. 
There was nothing easy about it now. Because that desperate need to crawl into his arms and have him chase the sorrows away couldn’t be sated.  
“I’m sorry about earlier.” Bucky’s quiet voice surprised you.
You blinked as you looked at him, slightly confused with what he was talking about.
“I know you’re responsible and very strong. You’re more than capable of looking after yourself and don’t need my meddling in your intimate life.” He said, staring down at some spot and not meeting your eyes. 
The words intimate life sounded as if he almost choked on them.
“I know it’s too late to mend what I fucked up.” He sighed, bowing his head even lower.
Your heart ached, seeing him so resigned.
“James Buchanan Barnes, what the hell are you talking about?!” Instinct to rush to his aid kicked you from your stupor. 
The anger at yourself heightened as once again you saw first hand how much you hurt him. Bucky wasn’t flawless, but he didn’t deserve what you’ve put him through. To know that your actions added to his tendency to self-blame, only made you hate yourself more.
“It was me who fucked everything up.” You countered, setting the bowl on the coffee table with a loud thud. You shifted on the couch, turning your body so that you could face Bucky directly. 
“I broke what we had. I- I broke your heart and you never deserved such awful treatment!”
Neither of you deserved all that pain, but it was on you to take the responsibility for it.  
“I’m not gonna lie, the divorce hurt more than falling off that damn train…” Bucky’s voice quivered with emotion; his fingers shook slightly as he wiped his palms on his thighs.
“Divorce?” You paused, slightly stunned. “I mean, I know it was hard. For both of us. But I knew I needed to set you free after what I’ve done.” 
It was Bucky’s turn to frown, his muscles pinching in a quizzical look as if he didn't understand what you were aiming at, at all. 
“Bucky, I cheated on you!” You hissed loudly, but minding your voice enough to not wake your son.
There it was. The heaviest of truths which triggered the whole domino effect and which both of you avoided naming directly.
But Bucky deserved it - you admitting your faults. There was enough on his shoulders and you couldn’t stand the thought of him taking this burden onto him as well, when it was yours to pay for.
Bucky’s face cleared of confusion, however his frown deepened. 
“What I know is that you were hurt, alone and inebriated. A state some douchebag took advantage of.” There was an undertone of anger in his tone, but not directed at you.
You shook your head in exasperation. 
Leave it to Bucky Barnes to be an understanding, chivalrous knight. It was a wonderful trait, but shouldn’t apply on all occasions, to all people. It definitely should be directed at you. As much as you’d love to follow that reasoning, you had enough self-awareness and responsibility to not go easy on yourself.  
“Being drunk doesn’t excuse what I did.” You stated.
“It wouldn’t, if that was your aim.” Bucky argued. “But tell me, did you go to that bar because you were looking for a hookup? To get back at me?” He rushed with his counter arguments. 
When you tried to turn your head slightly to avoid his gaze, he squeezed your chin between his fingers and gently guided you to look back at him. 
It was hard. To face him when the memories of that awful evening replayed in your head, bringing back a wave of shame and regret. You vomited three days in a row after that night; and only the first half of the first day was due to the alcohol. All the rest was stress and guilt. 
“No, you didn’t.” Bucky continued when you remained silent. 
“You went there, because it was our anniversary and I wasn’t home. I was on a mission. Again,” he sighed regretfully, aware of how his absence weighed down on you. “You went to the bar which we often went to on our dates, before we got married. Probably cursing my ass for absence on another important day and drinking the pain away.”
That was true. Your parents took Stevie for the whole weekend, starting Friday. It was supposed to be a carefree, romantic time for you and Bucky. Even if he would need to just be lazy in bed for an entire day, to recharge after a mission, you still would be together. 
While Bucky returned from one mission, he jumped onto another one right away. He called you to say that he’d be later than he first anticipated, but in the craze of it forgot what date exactly was it. 
You were understanding. Or, well, you tried to be. There was a whole monologue you gave yourself as you paced the floor of your apartment, convincing yourself that your husband was saving someone. So that someone else could return to their family. 
But you still felt bitter and angry that your husband didn’t return to you for something that was supposed to be important to the both of you.
When you went out to that bar, which wasn’t that far from your place, your plan was to have a drink or two and wallow in self-pity. Perhaps to be passive-aggressive, take a picture of yourself all dolled up and send it to Bucky with happy anniversary wishes.
That was it.
Then that man joined you. For a conversation, at first. Two drinks turned into four. Then five. To be honest, at some point his face got a little blurry. He had dark hair, like Bucky. Had his arm wrapped around your middle the way Bucky often did. 
At some point your drunk brain was certain it was Bucky fucking you, not some stranger you just met at the bar.
“I could’ve chosen to stay at home.” You argued, clenching your fingers into fists so hard that your fingernails needled your skin. 
“I could have drunk a bottle or two of wine alone in the safety of our home and sent you angry, slurred messages. Or wait for your return and throw something heavy at your head.” There were so many choices to be made that night. 
“Instead, I made a mess of our lives…” the words fell out of your lips in a broken whisper, your eyes filling with tears.
“And I forgave you.” Bucky said softly as he released your chin. 
“Hell, I don’t even think I was angry with you.” He huffed, running a hand through his hair in a nervous manner. “Oh, I was pissed and hurt!” He gave you a pointed look when you opened your mouth to protest. “I even tracked that man and… well, let’s not talk about things that thankfully didn’t happen once I saw him.” 
“Most of all, I was angry with myself,” Bucky suddenly deflated.
“Why?” You frowned, barely stopping yourself from reaching out to caress his cheek.
“Because I let it happen.” Bucky sighed and leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his thighs. “It was my constant absence that started those clouds over our heads. I was so focused on redeeming myself that I took on more missions than I should.”
A part of you wanted to contradict him, to convince him that he wasn’t doing anything wrong. But there was also a part of you that was still resenting him for doing that, for constantly choosing others over you.
“I think I also wanted to feel needed, which is why I joined teams even though they could’ve handled things without my presence.” He shifted again, sitting across the couch with one leg bent, so he could face you fully. 
He was more hesitant as he reached out for you again. Though you didn’t flinch away, he still dropped his hand as he revealed his own guilt:
“I forgot that you needed me, too.”
You still did. But you wouldn’t dare to tell him that.
“What you do is important. You save lives.” You said quietly, but there wasn’t as much heat to it as you’d like to present.
“I didn’t save us.” Bucky’s words opened the gate to the feelings you tried to stifle for many months.
You almost lifted your fist to angrily rub away the tears threatening to spill, but Bucky reached for you faster. His warm palms rested on your fists; he squeezed them gently.
“Baby, I remember when you mentioned therapy.” He admitted, wincing at the memory of signals which he ignored. “You tried to say it so casually, I know you were afraid of telling me directly that you needed me to save our marriage. I dismissed it.” 
“You hate therapy. I didn’t want to force you into it.” There wouldn’t be any point in attending any sessions, if Bucky would stay guarded.
You understood his hesitance, too. The mandatory therapy he went to a few years back was hard for him, not only because of the topics he had to deal with, but he didn’t feel emotionally safe or comfortable with the appointed professional.
“I disliked my assigned therapist.” Bucky pointed out, with a slight eye roll. “There are hundreds of therapists in this city. I’m sure there’s at least one that I could connect with.” Suddenly, he shook his head. “Or hell with how much I like a therapist, it should be about me connecting with you!”  
He let go of your hands and cupped your face instead.
“I wonder-” he leaned forward, closing the distance between you. “I’ve been wondering, if I didn’t fuck up by signing those divorce papers so easily.”
He did it without much questioning. Which only strengthened your notion that he was repulsed by you and couldn’t wait to be as far from you as possible. You didn’t blame him.
“I understood that. After what I’ve done.” You whispered. 
A single tear rolled down your cheek, stopping on Bucky’s thumb. 
“I couldn’t look you in the eye, because I was so ashamed. I wanted to give you a chance to find someone worthy of you.” More tears flowed.
Bucky tenderly wiped them away.
“I don’t think I’m worth a single hair on your pretty head.” He said, resting his forehead against yours. “I signed those papers, because I thought you were going to find happiness with someone else. That you wanted to build a life with someone else.”
“I don’t think that’s possible.” You would shake your head, if Bucky wasn’t holding you in place.
If his hold didn’t feel so overwhelmingly wonderful.
“Why not?” Bucky asked, incredulously. “You’re the most amazing, kind, smart, beautiful-” 
“Because I’m in love with you.” You blurted out.
Your eyes widened when you realized what you said. Scorching shame mixed with a sudden wave of cold fear as Bucky slowly pulled away and stared at you in shock. 
He was still cupping your face, though.
“Say that again, baby?” Bucky’s tone was a whisper, like he was afraid he’d burst some magical bubble if he moved or spoke louder. “Please,” he squeezed your cheeks slightly.
Maybe the best choice would be to take those words back. Or to start listing all the arguments to why it didn’t matter. But you couldn’t lie to Bucky. You never could. Especially not when he was looking at you with those beautiful blue eyes, filled with hope.
“I love you, Bucky,” you confessed. “I never stopped loving you.”
Tears streaming down your face were warm, but they felt much colder when compared to the warmth of Bucky’s lips on yours. 
He kissed you with reverence and despair, like the first gulp of breath after drowning in murky waters for much too long. There was nothing but his closeness, beckoning you like a flare in the darkness. You followed the coaxing of his lips, the unspoken vows he sealed with his mouth. 
You weren’t even fully aware of your body moving, yielding to Bucky’s smooth maneuvers. Until the full weight of him rested on top of you. 
He provided both that shield of safety and heavy temptation that had your legs spreading to accommodate him.
“I never stopped, either.” Bucky croaked out as he broke the kiss; his lips still brushed against yours as he spoke.
“I love you so much. So much, baby.” It crushed your heart to see his own cheeks glistening with tears. “Please, can we try again? Let me mend it. Please.” He begged.
Bucky sounded so helpless and so hopeful at the same time. If your heart was set in cold stone, it would still shatter for him like a fragile glass. 
“I should be the one mending it,” you pressed your fingertips to his cheek.
“Us. We’re going to do this together,” he briefly closed his eyes, leaning into your touch. 
“Always together,” you agreed and tipped your lips upwards, tempting Bucky into another kiss. 
Months of distance surely added fuel to the fire of need, but Bucky’s touch always had the power to ignite your desire. Him being on top of you, the kiss deepening, his hand traveling down your side - your body responded instantly. 
You wrapped your arms around him; one hand combing through his hair, the other mapping his broad back. Your legs were already spread to accommodate his hips between yours, but as Bucky continued to kiss and touch you, your knees drew up higher and your hips rolled against him.
Bucky’s responding grinding was most welcome, but he suddenly froze. 
“Baby,” he groaned, almost in pain. “I don’t want to ruin the moment, but if you keep doing that I’m going to lose it.”
“Need you,” you whined. 
You grabbed a fistful of his hair and slipped your other hand beneath his blue henley. You bit your bottom lip as you looked at him and rocked your hips into his once again.
“Need to feel you!” 
For months you were deprived of any intimate touch, somehow not in the mood to even give yourself a release with your pitiful toys. To even think of anyone beside Bucky ever touching you like that made you nauseous. And you missed it so much!
Missed the way Bucky played your body. The way he felt inside of you. 
“Bucky, please!” There was urgency in your tone that made Bucky snap to attention.
His gaze held yours for a moment longer, as if assessing that you were as sure as you sounded. A glint brightened his steel blue eyes and he swiped his tongue over his bottom lip in the most sensual way. That had your clit pulsing wildly. 
“You always beg so prettily,” he murmured against your skin as began chaining kisses along your jawline. “I’ve got you, baby.”
Bucky braced his weight on his metal arm as he used his other hand to pull up the layers of your tulle skirt. You shivered, nipples pebbling, as his touch shifted to the inside of your thigh and wandered upwards. 
He pressed the pads of his fingers against your throbbing clit, finding your panties already damp. It wasn’t a novelty how quickly your body responded to Bucky’s ministrations, but it seemed that longing for him sped up the process. 
Bucky swallowed your moan in a messy kiss as he pressed harder on your nub. While you loved the way he sometimes drew this pleasure out, how long he could spend just fingering and licking you, it wasn’t what you needed at the moment. 
You dropped both of your hands to his hips then slid them between your bodies to fumble with Bucky’s zipper.
“Fuck!” He cursed, dropping more of his weight onto you when you freed his cock out and wrapped your fingers around him. 
“I’m afraid I won’t last long this time,” he groaned, tugging the fabric of your panties aside. “I’ll make it up to you, baby, I promise. But, fuck, it’s been so long since I felt you-”
“Uh-huh,” you nodded fervently, not really listening to him. 
All your focus was on that throbbing need that spiked even higher as you guided the tip of Bucky’s cock inside you. 
It was everything - the stretch of his girth spearing through your neglected pussy, his scent and warmth, his mouth sucking on your neck, his moan at the feel of your tight walls gripping him - that had your body seizing in the most rushed climax. Already, while he was barely halfway in. 
You dug your fingernails into Bucky’s hips as your legs shook; your upper half curling up, face buried in the crook of Bucky’s neck to muffle your cries of pleasure. Your walls clenched so hard it was almost painful, then fluttered in a crescendo of aftershocks. 
“Sorry, sorry,” you babbled, falling onto your back and squirming as the orgasm continued to tingle in every part of your body.
“Sorry?” Bucky choked on breath. “My girl cumming for me so fast is an ego boost beyond any other,” he chuckled. 
He always had the ability to make you fall apart rather quickly, but that was a new record. Provided by suppressed sexual tension and emotional connection you were deprived of for so long. 
“Don’t worry, baby,” Bucky cooed as he continued to slide into your fluttering cunt, “I’ll give you more.” 
He shifted his hand, so that his thumb brushed over your swollen clit. He moved with no rush, but each of his thrusts was deep, nearly painfully so. As if Bucky sought more of that connection; needed it as fiercely as you. 
As promised, he made you cum again. Then shuddered within your embrace as he followed you over the edge. And though your heart was thundering in your chest from the exertion, it was the first time you felt complete and at peace since a very long time. 
You welcomed Bucky’s full weight as you laid spent, your hands drawing soothing patterns on his back. His cock was still nestled inside of you; neither of you wanted to lose that intimate connection too soon. You rested, listening to each other’s breathing and soaking in the comfort of being together. 
When Bucky fucked you again a while later, it was more languid and sensual. He made breathless vows of love, curling his metal fingers around your throat and squeezing just enough to spill more of your warm tears. He confessed his need for you in his life as he increased his pace, tilting your ass with his other hand, so he could spill deeper inside of you. 
In the morning, as he woke up early with the intention of going to the bakery and getting fresh treats for your family breakfast, there was so much brightness in Bucky’s eyes. So much love and happiness, like on the day your son was born.
As you looked at your own reflection in the mirror in his bathroom, you saw the same spark in your own eyes. 
544 notes · View notes
mrchiipchrome · 5 months
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The Mechanic
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W.C. - 4.2k
A/n: This was a bit rushed and not very good but anyways I’m going to bed now
——————————
Growing up, your father had been a mechanic and when you had days off from school he would bring you down to the auto shop he owned and worked at. Later, that would turn into you spending your afternoons and weekends down at the shop, learning everything there was to know about cars and how to repair them.
After graduating secondary school you were employed by the shop you had grown up in, rising through the ranks like any usual person would their job. You had close to no help from your father after your employment, he had always been clear that you had to work to get to your position especially if you wanted to one day inherit the shop.
So when your father died, you had more than enough experience with how to run an auto shop. In reality you were nothing less than a parentless kid trying to navigate their way through life without their biggest role model and simultaneous favorite person.
But eventually you found your footing, with the help of a bit of therapy that you'd gone to reluctantly, and had managed to find the balance between repairing cars and handling everything else that came with owning your own mechanic shop.
Still you consider yourself lucky, lucky for having Mitch who had been helping you with all the financials and all the other confusing things.
Mitch, or as you knew him Uncle Mitch, had been one of your father’s childhood friends and had been around since before you had been born. He was there for your father when your mother decided that she didn’t want to be part of your life and when he had no choice but to become a single father. He took you to school on the days your father couldn’t and helped you with school work.
So when a very pretty girl with car problems appeared one day, he was the first one to tease you about your obvious starstruck behavior.
—-
08.00 on a thursday and you’ve already been at work for a few hours, finishing up some paperwork and a couple small repairs on easier cars before all the other mechanics came in at 9. Hearing someone walk in through the open garage door is not an unusual feat, in fact you were used to your other mechanics coming in a bit earlier, so when uncertain footsteps echo in the peopleless shop you don’t roll out from where you’re situated under the car.
“Um, hi. My car just broke down like 2 minutes from here and I have no idea what to do.”
The soft fleeting voice is feminine and unfamiliar, definitely not one of your mechanics with their gruff chain smoking voices. Your head perks up and the hand holding the wrench from your tool set stills. With hands covered in soot and oil like most of your work clothes, you slide out from your place underneath the car.
“What seems to be the problem with it? Did it indicate something might've been wrong before it broke down? Any unusual sounds…?” Your voice trails off as you see the gorgeous blonde standing there looking around in curiosity, seeing all the different cars around the large shop. You just stand there, like an idiot seemingly enamored by the pretty stranger in front of you. She doesn’t seem to acknowledge your clear inability to act like a normal human as she directs her eyes toward you, eyes not even the greatest poets could try to describe.
The woman fiddles with the rings adorning her slender fingers as she rushes to explain the moments prior to her car stopping functioning.
“Oh god, yeah. I was supposed to come in for an oil change but then out of nowhere, my car started to make these kinds of crunching sounds and then there was a slight pop before it just broke down. Since I was supposed to come here, I knew it wasn’t that far so I left it with my friend and ran here for help”
The stress she’s feeling is evident in her actions and a surprising sense of protectiveness overtakes you, a feeling you can only describe as wanting to wrap her up in bubble wrap and protect her from the cruel world.
“Alright, have you called a tow truck yet?” The blush that immediately covers her face indicates that she had not, apparently not thinking that far. A sly smile takes over your face, fingers wrapping around a towel laying haphazardly on the deep red metal bench.
The soot and grime your fingers are covered in transfers over to the white surface of the towel, more soot at your hairline and your nose.
“You’re in luck miss, we have our very own tow truck.” Your hands shake deliberately as you try to lighten the mood, leading the blonde girl over to the regular truck you had. It was an old model, but damn if that car didn’t run perfectly. It had been a gift from Mitch for your 18th birthday, he knew that you adored putting excessive amounts of effort into your projects, and that car was truly a piece of work.
It had taken you a few short weeks to get it done, you were somewhat of a prodigy.
“Hey, take the passenger seat! I need you to show me where your car broke down.” You shouted as the blonde girl made no motion to move in any direction. She slowly shuffles her feet towards the car,enjoying the way your eyes raked over her body.
“Okay, so basically it’s just up the road, you’ll see a tiny dutchie standing beside it panicking.” She laughs softly as the last words escape her mouth, and in that exact moment you decide that it’s the greatest, most beautifully enticing melody ever created.
Your eyes are glued to the road, knowing that if you were to look into her eyes once more you’d get stuck looking at her. She felt like home even though you’d just met her moments before.
“Oh yeah? Why do you have a tiny Dutch person in your car?” The banter with you the girl you’d yet to get the name of was like you’d been friends for decades, you easily bounced retorts back and forth like great friends would.
“My teammate, we were driving to training and then my car decided that it didn’t want to work anymore. Wait, I haven’t phoned Jonas yet, I’m so dead.” You didn’t understand what she was talking about at the last part, the girl seemingly talking to herself.
Just like the woman beside you had said, there was a seemingly frantic short woman besides a white Mercedes. “How’d you know?” You ask the woman sitting in your car, her expression silly beyond comprehension. Her tongue was trapped between her teeth, her bright smile on display and her nose scrunched up adorably.
“A magician never reveals his secrets, right?” She fixes you with another cheeky smile, dark pink lips pulled together in the most admirable way. She was nothing if not perfect.
Her eyes shine brightly as you pull up next to her blinking car, the Dutch girl pulling the door open with a surprising amount of strength.
“Less, we are so late, Jonas is going to kill us!” Her foreign accent is quite noticeable, not that it bothers you. What did bother you was the way she threw the door of your beloved car up so violently.
“Yeah Vic, I know.” Less, as you’d come to know, told the other girl, Vic. Vic’s eyes flit over to you, taking in your non-threatening appearance and awkward smile. You wave at her before exiting your truck.
“So if you don’t mind, I’ll just pop your hood and try to find the problem.” You spoke to the taller of the two girls in front of you, who nodded her head vigorously, allowing you to do whatever it was you needed.
The smoke that escaped from beneath the hood concerned you, as did the heat of the motor beneath your fingers. It didn’t look too good for the blonde’s car, but for both her and your sake, you didn’t tell her.
“Well it’s definitely a problem with the engine, that much I’ll tell you.” A bit of worry seeps into your tone and Alessia doesn’t seem to like it.
“But my car will be fine right?” She was worried beyond recognition.
“Yeah, they say that I’ve got magic fingers for a reason” You sent her a quick wink, the statement true in both ways. The blonde’s face darkened significantly, red sprouting at every soft turn of the face.
“Okay there Casanova, why don’t you just hook the car to yours and take it back to the shop?” The dutchie’s tone left no room for argument, clearly she was protective of the blonde.
Pulling the wires from your trunk, you quickly hooked her car to yours in a safe way, making sure that her keys were out of the ignition and that her car was completely turned off.
Vic jumped into the backseat begrudgingly whilst Less took her place in the passenger seat.
You drove back to the garage in a slow pace, not wanting to damage the car behind more, plus you got to have the beautiful blonde in your car for longer.
“Less, how are we supposed to get to training if your car’s like that?” The girl in the backseat frowns at the blonde through the mirror, but you’re already multiple steps ahead, having put your thinking hat on before.
“I can drive you, and if y’all want we can take my coolest car too.” You spoke up nonchalantly, even though you were riddled with anxiety inside.
Less shakes her head softly, putting a soft and warm hand on your shoulder, stroking down your arm.
“It’s no problem really, we’ll just take an Uber.” She waves you off, despite seeming quite excited at the prospect of showing up to ‘training’ in a cool car.
“It’s no bother, my mechanics don’t come in until 9 so I’ve got time to kill. Plus, I haven’t been able to take the baby out for a while, needed to fix her up a little after the last time.” You laugh out, hand coming up to rub at the back of your head as you pull into the workshop.
“Take your things from your car and follow me.” The two of them do exactly as you say, getting their duffle bags from the white car.
You take them to the very back of the workshop, back to the garage where you kept your most prized possessions. In the smack middle it stood, your baby.
A 1968 Ford Mustang.
It was a gorgeous, shiny black color and you’d picked up a fair few ladies with it, just like your father did before you. He’d got it from his father, they’d started working on it before your grandfather died, and your father vowed to complete the work with his child.
Unluckily, your very own father died before the project was done, and so you were left to finish it.
“Here’s my beauty, my 1968 Ford Mustang, ain’t she a beaut?” You asked the two girls, standing behind you with their mouths wide open.
“Where’d you get it? Aren’t they super expensive?” Vic asked and Less slapped her arm harshly at the latter question.
“Passed down to me and yes, they’re incredibly expensive.” You could see how their eyes looked over your car, it was safe, modernized just enough so that it wouldn’t lose its charm.
“Right, you two can squabble about who sits in the passenger seat and who sits in the back, I’ll take your bags though, no scratching my paint.” You pluck their bags from their hands and put them in the trunk whilst Less and Vic actually squabbled.
Eventually, it was Less who won the battle, her hair blowing in the cool wind that passed you by as you drove. You’d gotten the address from the younger of the two as soon as you all got settled in the car.
When you finally pull up in front of the seeming training center, it’s to the sight of multiple girls standing with mixed expressions. Some were stern, others were shocked and some were confused.
“Alessia Russo, Victoria Pelova, where have you been?” The short woman at the front asks sternly, though shock does seem to flutter over her face for a second as she clocks your ride.
“Well my car broke down so I walked to the workshop not too far away-“ Alessia starts sheepishly, her fingers scratching at her forearm.
“Where she met Casanova, who decided to help by getting Lessi’s car to the shop and then driving us here in her sweet ride.” Vic finishes off Alessia’s sentence, patting your shoulder as she climbs out of the car. Alessia once again blushes at the name Vic gave you, just as you roll your eyes at it.
“You have a really beautiful car, miss.” One of the more sheepishly shy looking girls tells you, she had an accent you just couldn’t place.
“Thank you dear, tell me, where is it you come from? I can’t place your accent.” You ask her softly, not wanting to scare the young girl.
“Uhm, Denmark miss.” She looks down at her feet, shuffling them around as she blushes more than usual.
“Oh, I’ve never been, do you have any recommendations for me when I visit?” That seems to set the young girl off as she starts to babble on about different places to visit and where you could find the best food.
Alessia looks on as you engage with her teammate, with you leaning back on the side of your car and Katherine standing in front of you.
A sudden loud noise comes from your phone, and you recognise it as the jingle you’d put for Mitch.
“Hey uncle Mitch, whatchu calling me for?” You answer the call quickly, waving a little at the girls you’d met before.
“Where are you? The shop’s empty and I don’t know if I need to remind you, but your employees arrive in 10 minutes.” He was pretty clearly stressed about your current predicament.
“Oh shit, listen Mitch I needed to help a client and I took the Mustang so I’ll be back in like, 5 minutes.” You knew that he knew exactly why you’d taken the mustang, it was simply a lady magnet.
“A ‘client’ of course, that's what your dad always said when he wanted some alone time if you know what I mean.” Even if you couldn’t see your uncle’s face you knew that he was smiling and winking slyly. Your face scrunches up uncomfortably at the insinuation, not really wanting to know of your father’s ‘endeavours’ before you.
“Ew gross Mitchy, it’s not like that.” The whisper-shout you let out into the mic has the women around you looking at you weirdly.
“Alright, alright, I’ll open for the guys but you make sure that you don’t get in too late, you still have that car from a couple days ago to finish.” Rolling your eyes at the older man, you climb back into the car and put the keys into the ignition, turning the car on and saying a quick goodbye to the girls you’d given a ride to, telling the gorgeous blonde that her car would be done in the next few days.
You were fully on the road when the blonde realized that you hadn’t given her your number, which meant that she didn’t know when her car would be done.
You on the other hand knew exactly what you were to do when the car was done, it really wasn’t hard to make the plan.
—————
“Uncle Mitch? I’m going away for like an hour to help a client, so let the guys go on break for an hour and a half. They sure do need it.” You call out for your uncle who found himself at the shop more often than not.
“Okay kid, just make sure not to fool around too much okay? I know how you are-“ He starts off with a large smile on his face before you interrupt him with your own sentence.
“Yeah just like my father, I know, it’s kind of who I was raised by, you know.” You smile at the old man whose hair was graying and face wrinkled. He was like another father figure.
“Yeah, yeah, off you go to see Juliet.” He responds, shooing you out of the main room and towards the private garage where your Mustang was located.
“What is it with people naming us after old romance stories?!” You say exasperated, but the blush covering your face tells a different tale.
Revving up your car, you quickly pull out of the garage and pull out onto the road. The wind blows through your hair and the freeing feeling makes you smile, the hot summer breeze never failing you.
As you pull up to the training grounds there’s a large group of people exiting the building, training bags over their shoulders as they talk eagerly with each other. They do notice the car that didn’t fit in, black leather seats and black shiny exterior.
When their resident clumsy friend spots the car she trips over her feet, luckily enough for her, Vic is right beside her and she manages to catch the falling forward. It’s no easy feat by any means, but the smaller midfielder manages to pull her back to her feet.
When you pull up next to them, she comes up to greet you.
“Hi Casanova” She starts off, smile splitting her face open from ear to ear. Your face mirrors hers, the stupid nickname seemingly stuck around.
“Hi Alessia, I was popping by to pick you up as the work on your car is done.” The forward eagerly puts her bag in your backseat before she’s plopping down in your passenger seat. She smiles even wider as she realizes the soft rock flowing out from your radio. All of a sudden her face turns into a mess of confusion and a bit of fear.
“Wait, how did you know when my training ended?” She was staring deep into your soul, eyes glistening in the sun.
“Well I had a little help.” Turning around to face her Dutch friend, you can see the way she winks at the blonde sitting beside you, who merely raises an eyebrow at her. There were more questions to be answered but she decided that it wasn’t worth the effort.
“Are you ready to go back to the garage?” You ask her softly, her face just so enticing that you could do no more than whisper in her presence. She nods her head though and as you’re pulling out of the parking lot you both hear a:
“Don’t forget protection!”
The blush that comes over her face makes her look like an overly ripe tomato, though you don’t have much to say, looking like a tomato yourself.
The rest of the drive is spent in silence, Alessia looking out at the streets of London like she'd never seen anything like them before and you admiring her at every red light. It’s not until you pull up at the shop that she looks at you properly, her eyes glimmering.
“So if you just follow me out here, I’ll lead you to your good as new car.” She exits your car to follow you out and towards her own, the Mercedes that you’d put extra time and effort into. Nothing but the best for the gorgeous girl.
“Thank you so much. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you weren’t here to save the day, I really do owe you one.” Her seemingly never ending smile shines even brighter at the sight of her car, and as she turns to you it seems to get impossibly brighter.
“Well it’s my job you know, I kind of own the place.” It’s a hastily thrown out comment that seemingly piques her interest, Alessia’s hand coming up to rest on your slightly sooty arm.
“How do you own this place? I don’t mean it in a condescending way or anything but it’s just that you’re so young and pretty and you don’t seem like the type to buy a workshop.” She rambles in her nervousity, eyes shifting around the shop like they’d done only days before.
“I inherited it from my dad, the same with my car. He uhm, he died and my mom is like fully out of the picture so I got most of his stuff, my uncle Mitch also got some stuff but I was the main person.” She was so easy to talk to, you’d only met her days before and it felt like you’d known each other for years. Your dads death wasn’t something that you talked about often or with most people, so your heart had really taken a wild leap for the young striker.
“I’m so sorry for your loss, I know that he’s watching you with pride wherever he is.” Her hand rubs up and down your arm comfortingly, smiling sorrowfully at you as you recount your grief at the most important person in your life’s death.
“It’s not your fault, he lived his life to the fullest so I know that he was content when he died…” Alessia notices the want to change the topic of your conversation and so she shifts it to something more trivial.
“Uhm, how much do you want me to pay for this?” She asks, her voice wavering slightly at the whiplashing change of topic.
“You can pay with a hug and a kiss?” You joke lightly but it seems like the forward takes it seriously, as her hands come up to slither back around your neck, fingers tangling in your baby hairs.
Big hands settle on the blonde’s waist as she moves her face closer to yours, leaning up to rest her lips against yours in a soft embrace.
The kiss is nothing short of magical and as her tongue pokes against your lips you open your lips, basically french kissing the girl in the middle of your workshop. The kiss only breaks apart as whistles from your employees ring out throughout the shop, the guys having come back from their break.
When they finally quiet down it’s by the threat of you withholding their next paycheck and they all look away as you peck the girl’s lips a few more times before letting her leave in her fixed up Mercedes.
“Not a word of this to Mitch.” You look at them all sternly, but the knowledge that all of them had basically watched you grow up made you realize that they definitely weren’t scared of your empty threats. They sealed the deal by chuckling at you before turning back to their individual projects.
————-
In the weeks following the blonde leaving your motor shop she’d come in more than once for imaginary problems with her car, which you knew was just an excuse to see you. No one had that many problems with their car.
When she comes in fully unexpected one Thursday it’s with a fleeting problem with her motor from before.
“Hi Y/n, my car has been acting up a little again, mind checking it out for me?” She pops her head into the shop after hours, you’d just been finishing up some paperwork that needed to be done.
“Alessia, you do know that you can just ask me out on a date instead of making up problems with your car?” You prayed that you’d read the situation right, otherwise it’d be quite the awkward conversation.
“Oh thank you, it’s really hard to just come up with problems out of the blue” Her body leans on her hands that are now pressed against your desk, her face close to yours.
“So, are you going to ask me?” You ask her the question you’d been thinking about for a while, her face and the tops of her ears turning red.
“Y/n/n do you want to go on a date with me?” She asks nervously, like you’d ever reject a girl like her, a beautiful and kind soul that did nothing if not light your day up with her made up problems.
“Of course I would Less.” You respond to the girl, only for her to lean forward and capture your lips with her own. People always talk about the first kiss, but the second kiss was always so much better, and all the kisses after that were pretty great too.
Who would’ve thought, a footballer and a mechanic getting together, the very own Casanova and Juliet of the world.
Maybe some weird romance book would be written about it in a few years, but for now you were content with watching the stars with your gorgeous girlfriend in your less gorgeous (but still very beautiful) car, sharing deep kisses into the night.
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y-umiko · 1 year
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TOKYOREV BOYS WHEN YOU CALL THEM BY THEIR FIRST NAME FOR THE FIRST TIME p.2
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CHARACTER(S): Rindou . Mitsuya . Sanzu . Mikey WARNING/S: Suggestive content at Rindous' and Sanzus' part P.1 Ran . Hanma . Baji . Kisaki a/n: Due to popular demand, heres the part 2
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Rindou Haitani
Rindou doesn't mind that you're calling him by his last name, except for Ran everyone had called him Haitani or the younger Haitani for as long as he can remember. though it would be nice for you to call him by his name, he doesn't want to force you.
He did inform you that you have the privilege to call him by his given name whenever you want and it had always been stuck in your mind. but finding the right timing to call him by his given name was harder than you thought until it just slips your mouth one day in a middle of an intimate moment between you and Rindou.
With his head buried between your nape and neck, showering your skin with kisses your lips barely parted and mumbled his name.
"Rindou…" it doesn't even register in your head at first what you mumbled until he completely freezes and slightly lifted his head to look into your face, wondering if his mind was playing tricks with him.
"what's the matter?" you asked with the same tone and softness in your voice, immediately erasing all his doubts about hearing his name.
"Say it again, I wasn't ready for the first time" he mumbled, you were confused at first, not until you saw the look of anticipation within his eyes. a warmth spreading within your chest as you can't help the corners of your lips from smiling.
"I love you, Rindou"
upon hearing his name leave your lips he lets out a shaky breath before dropping his head on your shoulder, the tips of his ears are red as his heart beats strongly. how could a single word like his name sound so perfect in your voice. if you can make him feel like this with his name, he wonders how perfect would it be if you call him cute nicknames. but he'll worry about that later, for now, he wants to savor this moment as he made you let out his name throughout the night.
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Takashi Mitsuya
"Sometimes Hakkai feels more like Mitsuya's lover than you" It was meant to be a joke by Draken but thinking deeper about it, it really seems like Hakkai was his lover.
They spend almost the whole day together, they see each other every night, Hakkai has Mitsuya as his wallpaper and Hakkai calls Mistuya not just by his given name but also by a nickname.
you knew they had known each other longer than you two but you were the significant other, you're supposed to be calling him cute nicknames like all the other couples. so you spend the whole night thinking of nicknames to call him. even proud of some of the nicknames you come up with.
but as soon as you're in front of Mitsuya, all the nicknames you come up with was forgotten as you only simply called him by his given name.
"Takashi" you called him confidently but your shoulders immediately drops in disappointment and pouted your lips, upon realizing that all the effort you put in the night before was wasted.
It took Mitsuya a few seconds to process what you said, never would he had imagine this was what you were going to say after coming up to him earlier and saying you had a very important thing to say.
"Finally" Mitsuya can't help but chuckle as he placed his hand on top of your head and ruffle your hair. he won't lie that it bothered him when you called him by his last name considering how long you two had been going out.
It wasn't magical as they say in books but the unknown tightness in his chest slowly loosened and was only filled with more love for you.
"But why do you look so disappointed? does saying my name that bad?" he teased upon noticing your pouting lips.
"Of course not, it's just that I came up with all these cute and sweet nicknames but I panic and ended up just saying your name"
if only Mitsuya can fall even harder for you. as if taking your worries with him, he gently took your hands in his. "Don't worry I have plenty of time to listen to all of them"
"But really, I thought I'll never hear you say it, It'll be confusing if we're both called Mitsuya in the future won't it?"
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Haruchiyo Sanzu
Lately, Sanzu had been bugging you about calling him by his given name, stating that couples should be comfortable enough to call each other by their first names. a logical claim coming from him.
and when you did not call him by his name right away, he made it known that he was quite upset, making you feel guilty, maybe it is the right time.
"San- Haruchiyo…" you quietly let out as if testing the name for the first time when in truth, you had already practiced his name countless times but saying it in front of him feels different.
Sanzu definitely heard it but pretends he didn't hear you the first time. he stood in front of you, one hand placed on his waist as he looks down at you with a glint in his eyes, trying to look like the part where he was upset with you when in truth he can never be upset with you.
“Did you say something?” he asked, already smiling a bit upon hearing his name from you but refraining himself from showing.' just a little more he thought.
you bit your lip, cheeks burning red as you stood your ground and proudly spoke, "I said do you have plans later?…" but confidence left your voice as your voice wavers, "…Haruchiyo"
“Can you say that a little louder?”
"Haru-" he didn't even let you finish saying his name as he straight up pressed his lips on yours, even sucking your lower lips while his hands cupped your face. Sanzu doesn't think he can hear his name 3 times consecutively when you were looking all bashful and cute and red in front of him. all his plans to tease you a little bit more were thrown out the window as soon as his name left your lips again.
"Haruchiyo is kinda long to pronounce, I don't want to wait that long to kiss you. Haru is perfect"
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Manjiro Sano
You stared at Mikey from a distance as he converse with Chifuyu, you were Deep in thought ever since Baji teased you about Mikey having selective hearing when it comes to you. the conversation ended with you teasing him back that he even knew what selective hearing is.
but Baji's statement and you quote that 'If Mikey is the middle of a serious fight and you so much let out a quiet grunt, Mikey will definitely hear you', had stayed in your mind and today you decided to try it out.
"Man.ji.ro." you mumbled playfully, not loud enough for him to hear but not so quiet that a human ear can't hear.
and to your surprise, Mikey immediately perks up, head snapping back at you as if he had just heard something unbelievable, staring at you meaningfully, blinking once and twice before smiling so brightly.
he quickly bid goodbye to Chifuyu and ran towards you and planted himself in front of you, he was smiling so brightly that he look as if he had grown dog ears.
"How did you hear that?" you asked in amazement as soon as he stood in front of you, as you peeked passed him to look at his previous spot.
"Did you think I will miss it when you finally said my name?" he giggled, and for a moment you thought you saw a tail wagging behind him.
Mikey thought nothing would some more perfect coming from you when you called him 'Mikey' as everyone else does. but the newfound excitement and joy he felt upon hearing you say his given name, can't compare to the joy he felt before.
"Say it again, properly this time" he demanded, and who were you to deny him that satisfaction when he look so happy and bright, waiting in anticipation for you to say his given name and not just the usual nickname the others call him.
"Manjiro" you chuckled and there it was again, that skip on his heart that he'll definitely be addicted to. though he prefers to be called by his nickname, it's not bad to be called by his given name every once in a while.
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igotanidea · 3 months
Text
Shunning: Jason Todd x reader
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request: Jason comforting reader cause her friends ostracised her.
A/N: hopefully this will put a smile on the face of everyone who felt back for being rejected in any form it may come.
***
They were madly in love, there was no denying that.
But not in a lovey-dovey kind of way that was reserved only for the time they were alone and felt safe enough with the other to let that side out. It was rather mercilessly-teasing-not-really-meaning-all-those-mean-words-coming-out-of-my-mouth-cause-only-I-can-do-that manner.
However, there are boundaries to every relationship.
Especially when one of the parts in couple is a infamous vigilante/antihero.
And ever since the beginning Jason made it very clear that Y/N was not supposed to visit his apartment when he was not there. It was his duty to keep her safe. At all costs. And since sometimes it happened that due to lack of strength after patrol he just crashed his regular flat instead of safe house, no one, no one, was allowed to connect Y/N Y/L/N to Red Hood.
No fucking one.
Even if it meant giving her the spare key as a sign of commitment (but only because Jason tended to lost his own too often), but also simultaneously pushing her away by making the hereinabove mentioned rule.
Yeah… it hurt.
But she understood.
She understood all the rules and boundaries and safety precautions coming from being with him and if that’s what it took to call him hers – so be it.
So normally she stuck to the principles.
But—
***
8 a.m.
It was one of the hardest patrol he had ever had, but some kind of crazy instincts made him push forward and patch himself up at the nearest lair. Which wasn’t even his in the first place, but that was something Grayson would never know. And also- besides the point.
The fact was, though, that he came back to his  official address (official for someone who was still legally dead, of course), dressed in regular clothes and without blood stains with plasters all over his face.
Planning to maybe call his girlfriend so they can spend the nice day together.
Hoping to see her teasing smirk and eyes rolling, knowing she was the one to match his sarcasm, give him hard time making this relationship a challenge for him, which was exactly why she fell for her in the first place. Or maybe it was the fact that underneath all that rough-around-the-edges surface they were so similarly sensitive on the inside it made it easier to connect on so many levels.
Lost in his thoughts he opened the door and immediately knew something was wrong.
Energetic music coming from the kitchen.
Some crazy (DELICIOUS!) smell.
And the opened curtains that make the dim Gotham light permeate the room.
The hell?
Jason grabbed his pistol from the shoe (regular clothes or not, forewarned is forearmed) and busted into kitchen, grabbing the intruder by the arm, pointing the gun to their head.
“Auch! Fuck! Jay!”
“Y/N!” the gun landed on the floor and she immediately kicked it away, so it wouldn’t fire on her leg or foot.
‘Well morning to you to!”
“The hell you doing here?!”
“fucking breakfast!”
“What?!”
The scene was truly grotesque.
Boyfriend and girlfriend, who were, may I remind you, madly in love, standing on the opposite side of the kitchen, one of them clearly in need of some loving and rest, the other offering exactly that and yet they settled on yelling their surprise out at one another.
“I’m gonna ask you again- what are you doing here?” Jason almost hissed, his own protective and possessive instincts kicking in in a Red Hood style.
“I told you-“ she became a little defensive, but sure as hell not submissive or humble.
“Y/N!”
“Stop yelling at me Jason!”
The way she accentuated the last word, his name, made him stop for a moment, groan in frustration and run hand over his face, almost poking his eyes out. Right. He was Jason now. Her Jason. And she didn’t deserve the aggression and violence (she had her fair share of that coming from men).
“Okay, fine. I won’t yell. But explain to me.”
“I needed you—” she finally whispered.
Any other guy would just melt at such sweet confession coming from the loved woman, but Jason? Nah. He was way more perceiving and knowledgeable about her quirks.
So he noticed.
Her sad eyes.
Her nervous energy.
Her feigned smile.
And the fact that she not only just made him his favorite breakfast but also was currently keeping an eye on the blueberry muffins in the oven.
“Y/N….” he said calmly to get her attention.
“Yeah, huh, what’s wrong?”
“I should be asking you that question…”
“What you mean?” she raised an eyebrow.
“Don’t trick me honey.” He warned with a grin and before she realized what was happening around her he grabbed her, threw her over his shoulder and carried her to the living room, ready to coax, force or hug the truth out of her. No holds barred.
“My muffins!” she yelled struggling against his grip.
“Yeah, whatever, as long as we don’t need firefighters here I don’t care.”
He threw her on the couch sitting beside her.
“Talk to me.”
“It’s nothing really I –“
“you know I’d hate to be the therapist in this relation and steal the job you do for me, but for Christ’s sake Y/N, let it out.”
Okay, so he clearly did not think those words out.
And it was not his intention to make her cry.
Even if her snuggling into his chest made him feel like she actually needed him. Like she wasn’t always the tough, self-made, self-sufficient girl.
“Oh…” he gasped wrapping arms around her. “Shh… sh… it’s okay. I got you. I got you, you can tell me.” The mindless words were just coming out his mouth when he pulled her closer not caring about black mascara smudges on his favorite shirt. (which was old either way, so no shame in ruining it).
“Do you think I’m pathetic for being an introvert?”
“What?” he blinked a couple times, frowning and searching her face to make sure she was serious with that question “Since when you’re an introvert?”
“Jason…”
“Ok, princess listen to me. I have no idea from where that idea got into your pretty little head but-“
“My friends.” She stuttered wiping her eyes smudging makeup even more looking like a cute little panda and despite all the seriousness from her part Jason smiled for a moment considering the view adorable.
“come again? Your friends?”
“Yeah…” she sniffled “my friends. We were supposed to hang out last night, but when I reached out, cause I was feeling a tad lonely” she send him a look “they all respectively said that they are busy and tired and maybe another time.”
“Uh-huh.” He nodded “I got a feeling I know where this is going-“
“Believe me, you have no idea.” She rolled her eyes, sadness slowly making way to annoyance and frustration “not only they went partying, which I found out via Instagram, hashtag somuchfun, hashtag hotgirlsparty,  but also figured it was Allison’s bachelorette party!”
“That Alison?! The friendship bracelet Allison?!”
“yes! Can you imagine the audacity!? And she’s been engaged for months and everyone knew!”
“No way!” Jason gasped while they both acted at least like Hollywood wives gossiping about first world problems.
“Also, I have to say how much I appreciate you actually listening to all my silly girly ranting.”
“Of course baby” he kissed her forehead rubbing her back affectionately “but don’t tell it to anyone. Now seriously, all jokes aside, are you all right? I mean – not that I have much experience with friendship-“
“Roy.” She cuts him off with a firm voice.
“Ok, fine, fine! I’ll make peace with him!” he raised his hands in surrender “that’s not the point. You were straight forward casted out! Ostra-fucking-cised! And the fuck why??” now he was becoming a little angry.
“Cause clearly I’m a mood killer, no fun, tense, embarrassing, don’t know how to party-“
“WHAT?!”
“Jason?” she looked at him briefly “Jason! JASON! HELL! Put that gun down and get back here!” she yanked the back of his shirt pulling him back to the couch before he could something reckless and irreversible.
“Let go off me princess I have to-“
She started crying again.
“Oh god! Oh baby please don’t cry, I’m sorry-“ he cupped both her cheeks falling to his knees and wiping the tears away “Y/N, love, please I didn’t mean to –“
“There’s only one thing you have to do now.”  She calmed down at once, revealing that her tears were just another trick.
“Bloodbath?”
“What?! NO! You stay here and pamper me! Comfort me!” she smacked him on the head, soft enough to not make any damage. “Jeez! How many times will I have to teach you!? A girl, your girl is crying. What do we do then?” her voice was reminiscent of that of a primary school teacher
“We hug. We say nice words. We don’t let go until she feels better. We let her do all she wants cause she’s sad.” He answered mechanically.
“Very good, Jason” Y/N teased “gold star for theory, now can you please make it into practice?”
Ten seconds later she was wrapped up in his strong arms, with one of his hand cradling her head and brushing the strands of her hair, the other on the small of her back.
“For the record, I think introverts are cool. Seriously, the hell is wrong with the world making a false impression that you need to crash everyone just to get somewhere in life? Like I don’t know, make a name for yourself by being loud and show-offish.
“Jason…” she laughed and it made his chest reverberate
“What--? Oh! Hey! That’s not what I meant! We were talking about you,, not me!”
“Well you made me laugh, so good job on that!”
“You know what on the other hand, introverts are assholes. They are always quiet and listen and remember everything you say only to use it against you later on. Like little rat searching for the hole in everything.”
“Hey!” she poked his ribs
“Oh no, princess, that’s out the line!” he laughed rolling on top of her, tickling her. “You’re the most amazing introvert I have ever met, you hear me? Life is a constant party with you and your beautiful mind, ok? So what if they didn’t tell you about the bachelorette? I mean, sure it sucks, but I bet her fiancé is an ugly ork.”
“And how is that supposed to make me feel better?”
“Cause baby believe me, once you get thrown a bachelorette I’ll make sure that not only Instagram but also all the magazines will be racing to get photos of that party. How could they not? The prettiest, most amazing girl in Gotham not being available anymore! Damn, Kardashians will get jealous of you!"”
“Are you asking me something here Jason Peter Todd.”
“You and your admirable fantasy.” He smirked kissing her forehead “I’ll leave you hanging, but tell me one thing. Do you really need fake friends? You already have a zombie boyfriend, isn’t that enough for you? Starring in a “Walking Dead”, now you also want “Mean Girls?” he faked indignation “so greedy!”
“Your impossible you know that?” she smiled at him, the first genuine smile since she came to his apartment.
“Hell no, I’m way more handsome than Tom Cruise!”
“Jason!”
“What? You wanted to be comforted, you can only get it done my style.”
“Hey. Hey look at me” she cupped his cheek so their gazes could meet.
“Yeah? What is it my sunshine and rainbows?”
“Don’t stop, okay?”
“Never.” He grinned. “You’re stuck with the tacky humor and dry jokes.”
***
And with a burning blueberry muffins
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sturnioloskyline · 3 months
Note
Matt x reader
The triplets are filming a random video and somewhere during the video they try smelling salts Chris calls reader to try them not telling her why it is and she has a funny reaction but a couple seconds after she has a massive nosebleed.<3
nosebleed
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pairing: matt sturniolo x fem!reader
warnings: language, smelling salts(?), blood, pain, yelling
summary: your boyfriend's brother makes you try smelling salts without a warning.
thank u for the request, anon! 😚
your boyfriend, matt, had invited you to spend the night with him at his and his brothers' house. you were sitting on the couch in their living room, scrolling on your phone while the triplets were all in the kitchen.
nick had informed his brothers just yesterday that they didn't have enough content for their vlog that was supposed to be out in a few days. as a result, the three of them had been carrying cameras around all day trying to record as much as they could.
chris had ordered something on amazon for his brothers to try on camera, and he was currently trying to convince them to do it for the vlog.
"c'mon, just try it!" chris giggled. his brothers looked at him as if he were insane.
"i don't trust you," nick said, his eyes flicking to the unlabelled bottle in chris's hand.
"yeah, just tell us what it is chris," matt agreed with nick, backing away from chris.
"ugh, just try it! it'll be funny!" chris whined, getting fed up with his brothers' refusal to participate.
"chris, we're not gonna sniff something out of a random bottle you ordered from amazon," nick rolled his eyes.
chris looked at the camera in defeat, before noticing you sitting on the couch on your phone. an idea immediately popped into his head.
"hey, y/n, can you come over here and smell this for the vlog?" your head snapped up at the request. you didn't think much of it, tossing your phone on the couch and getting up to join the boys by the counter.
"what is it?" you asked chris, looking at matt and nick, who just shrugged their shoulders.
"you'll see," chris replied secretively, twisting open the bottle and setting the cap down on the counter. he handed the bottle to you. "just take a big ol' whiff."
you hesitantly brought the bottle under your nose, before inhaling deeply. you were immediately hit by an intense burning sensation in your nose. you slammed the bottle down on the counter, doubling over.
"WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT, CHRIS?!" you yelled out, causing chris and his brothers to break out into a fit of laughter. chris picked up the camera from where he had it propped up, angling it to record your reaction. a lightheaded rush washed over you as tears welled up in your eyes, and your nose felt like it was on fire.
matt walked up behind you and placed his hands on your hips. he was laughing softly at your outburst, but the longer you stayed leaning against the counter, the more he grew concerned.
"are you okay?" matt whispered, rubbing your waist with his thumbs. you sniffed and let out a groan, shaking your head. the lightheadedness you were feeling quickly turned into a throbbing headache. matt's smile faltered a bit, but chris and nick just kept laughing.
"can you get me a tissue?" you croaked out a request to matt. he immediately rushed to grab a box of tissues, setting it down beside you on the counter. you grabbed a tissue and wiped your eyes, before using it to blow your nose. you sighed and stepped back from the counter, rubbing your nose and letting out a sigh.
"OH MY GOD," chris exclaimed when your face was visible again, his eyes widening. you looked at him in worry, before looking down at the tissue in your hand. the tissue was now almost completely dyed red with blood from your nose. you looked back up at chris before feeling liquid rush out of your nose again.
"oh my god!" you shrieked back, quickly grabbing another tissue and bringing it to your nose. nick was at chris's side, clapping a hand over his mouth when he noticed the bloodied tissues.
matt stepped in front of you so he could see what was going on, his jaw dropping at the sight of blood filling the tissue pressed under your nose.
"chris, what did you do?" matt yelled at his brother, not taking his eyes off you. he moved the tissue you were holding to better assess the situation, wincing when he saw blood smeared on your upper lip.
"i didn't know they could make her nose bleed!" chris set the camera down, turning it away.
"what the fuck is in that bottle chris?" nick yelled in confusion and concern.
"smelling salts! i thought people used them to like, get better at sports!" chris tried to defend himself. nick buried his face in his hands.
matt turned away from you to stare at chris in shock. "chris, those are fucking dangerous! they can seriously hurt if you don't use them right!"
"i'm sorry, i didn't know!" chris apologized regrettfully, watching matt as he wet a tissue and tried to wipe the blood from your face.
"it's okay chris," your voice was muffled from the tissue matt was using to dab your nose. chris frowned at you with remorse.
by the time your nose had finally stopped bleeding, matt was still inspecting your face, his eyebrows still knitted with worry.
"matt.." you chuckled softly, hoping to ease some of his tension. "i'm okay now. everything's fine."
matt met your eyes and smiled softly at you, pulling you into a tight hug. chris picked the camera back up and pointed it at you, teasing matt.
"shut the fuck up chris," matt turned around to look at his brother, rolling his eyes. "don't ever try some shit like this again."
chris was unfazed by matt's comments, knowing that matt wasn't actually mad at him. he smiled at him through the camera.
"we have to put this in wednesday's video." chris looked at you for confirmation.
"yeah, of course? i didn't do that shit for nothing," you scoffed, holding back a smile.
"yes y/n!" chris cheered, panning the camera to nick and matt. nick still had his face in his hands, turning away from the camera while matt shook his head.
"you guys are insane," matt mumbled, walking out of the kitchen to his room. you and chris looked at each other and burst out laughing.
...
COMMENTS[extra!!!]:
holy shit chris almost killed y/n 😭
HELP THE SMELLING SALTS?!?!
matt hugging y/n my heart 🥹🥹
chris + y/n = underrated duo
...
author's note: ngl i didn’t actually know what smelling salts were before this…
884 notes · View notes
anantaru · 1 year
Text
— sleeping over for the first time
including scaramouche, heizou, kazuha, xiao x gn! reader
genre: fluff, they‘re nervous, kissing, loads of cuddling
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— scaramouche
with absolute certainty, the moment you had asked scaramouche if you could sleep over at his place for the first time, his mind threatened to black out in front of your eyes.
obviously in your relationship, things were destined to be quite behind time, it was important for the both of you to take things slow and without rush so no one would end up feeling overwhelmed.
as luck would have it, it was clear you both were ready to take it a further level up.
naturally, it was one thing to meet each other and go on a date, but another to sleep over and spend the night, most importantly, wake up encircled in your arms the following day.
so for quite a while, it rattled an undeniable horror in his unruly thoughts, clearly scaramouche desired to have all ready and set for you but how was he possibly supposed to sleep while you're next to him?
what if the awkwardness would suddenly become so overbearing that one of you would die off suffocation?
mindlessly rehearsing the lines he had set in his brain, you at last, had come to sleep over at his place with his arms already greeting you.
"this is my bed, if you don't fancy it that's on you."
primarily calm, he had now turned back to his usual self, scaramouche found comfort in just being himself and he was thoroughly filled with joy that you did not mind his sense of wording.
"it looks very comfortable, i love it." he took in a second to indulge in your small compliment before snapping himself back to reality. "if you say so."
after a nice dinner the both of you shared, night already approached with you getting ready to sleep.
followed by putting on your sleeping garments, scaramouche and you lowered your bodies into the comfortable cushions together.
the contrast between your slightly nervous, but still composed being and him absolutely not knowing what to do with himself was somewhat hilarious in your eyes.
he could be especially adorable whenever he got flustered by small things like that, might remind him sometimes that that‘s one of the things that made you fall for him in the first place.
taking matters into your own hand, you slowly drew yourself to his body before cautiously looping one arm over his body to rest your head close to him.
scaramouche lightly flinched at your touch, just a bit, it took him off guard but he did not complain, in truth he was delighted that it was you who took the first step because he was sure he wouldn't be able to move a muscle all night.
breathing out relaxingly through your mouth, you voiced your last words to your boyfriend.
"goodnight kuni." to add to it, you made sure to leave a small but memorable kiss on his soft cheek before gathering yourself back on his cold chest.
barely, he was barely able to say anything back. But you sure oughta give him some slack for not saying anything snarky back, at this point he was more nervous than you were.
how do you seem so calm when he's literally dying next to you?
he very much rambled on about this in silence as he turned his body towards your own at last, to of course, embrace you back and get on with this.
his hand was until now shaking but gingerly stilled completely upon placing it on your warm hips.
"goodnight to you too."
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— heizou
ah, well, you're mistakenly aware of your boyfriend and his infamous tendencies of being bold in your relationship.
lets say, the both of you shared a nice date together, strolling through the ever so ravishing inazuma city, hand in hand, before he decided to walk you home at last— as heizou tends to do quite often.
by the end of it you beckoned him to come inside for a couple more rounds of cuddling and sweet talks about your days.
but especially after all of that, heizou will become quite tired, he'd rub his blurry eyes ever so often and hug himself closer to your chest before just blurting it out to you.
"i'm sleeping here tonight, okay? okay."
his words were hazy and low now, they broke a little towards the end by how drowsy he had gotten, with that it was only a matter of time before he was fully gone.
"aren't you uncomfortable like this?"
it's as if he didn't even need an answer from you as well, heizou was extra sleepy and wasn't capable of moving a muscle, even if you denied his request, you'd be the one who’d have to walk him home instead.
his whole play with you was a hot take, but you did not mind. Clearly your relationship was very much fresh but it was going to happen sooner or later before you'd sleep over at his place, or vice versa.
especially since you preferred to sleep in your own bed, it was a lot more comfortable for you.
mindlessly, you slipped out of his grasp before he whined for you to come back. You rolled your eyes at him and struggled to piece the words he had thrown towards you together, at this point your boyfriend was simply muttering nonsense to himself.
the most important necessity in your eyes was to get a few extra blankets, in truth, you were quite nervous about all of this but the excitement deep within you took over.
the connection you shared with heizou was already strong on its own but to share a bed with him and wake up the next day was something deemed as romantically intimate in the beginning of each relationship.
before throwing a blanket over your boyfriend, you quickly slipped out of your clothes to put the garments you were sleeping in on, strolling back at last.
frankly then, you got a glance of heizou grimacing a loving grin at you through his sleepy face.
swiftly his arms flew up in the air towards your body to motion you back at him, whining like a puppy when you of course, obliged to his pleas.
"finally, i thought you'd never come back to me."
who knew heizou could be so dramatic when he was sleepy? "i was barely gone." at the last giggle, you closed your eyes to slumber away, this time with your boyfriend by your side.
heizou‘s natural body heat melted into you and at this, you felt secured, safe and were certainly ready to fall asleep.
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— kazuha
as were most situations with your boyfriend kazuha, this too, was the result of a spontaneous effect taking place.
he truly couldn't keep his hands off you, they'd either have to be entangled with your own or carefully clasped around the entirety of your body.
after all, kazuha wanted you to be snug and warm at all times, ever so often rubbing calming circles on your back while you were telling him all about yet another boring day which somehow sounded exciting to him.
you see, kazuha was a great listener, and there was nothing he treasured more than you fully trusting him and talking about whatever crossed your mind.
so he figured, maybe, he should just ask if you want to sleep over tonight? it was already appeared to be quite the night, the scent of rain was laced around the cold air and he didn't want you to catch a cold either.
"what do you think of the idea to sleeping over at my place?"
he approached you slowly, noticeably he took baby steps to voice his question, whispering it against the shell of your ear while you were still locked in his sweet embrace.
"sure, if it's really fine by you."
deep within your core, you had anticipated this for a fine while, so you're naturally excited to finally fill a new sense of innocent intimacy in your relationship.
at this, you can be sure about it that kazuha will prepare everything himself, he wants you to feel just like home and doesn‘t require any help from you.
because you, in his heart, were his home so obviously he desired to awaken the same emotion in you. If his place became like a second secure home to you, he'd be more than delighted and filled with sheer bliss.
the thought alone of having his arms around you while dozing off to sleep together made his heart swell heavily, bubbling with excitement.
all the greater was the experience as he got back with an extra pair of blankets and a soft pillow, gently placing it where it belonged before draping the cover over your bodies.
"come here."
the next gesture of his was easy to decipher, kazuha wanted you near and spread his arms apart so you could properly find a homely spot to sleep on, embracing him back.
"are you comfortable?" he gingerly kissed your forehead, once, twice, before lowering his head to meet your glowing eyes, "i am."
the soft hums of his voice were relaxing like a silent sea on a calm night, helping you doze off.
furthermore, the once nervous emotion had soon gone missing and the anticipation of waking up next to your boyfriend the following day had you fancy all the future memories greeting you.
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— xiao
it was clear as day that xiao was exceedingly more anxious and nervous than you were.
on top of that he wasn't certain on why he'd become so tense at something so ordinary than sharing a bed with each other.
of course, he wasn't the most experienced in the relationship department, but his mind would still spin uncontrollably within his lost thoughts.
at one particular point xiao's muscles would become so stiff, you'd actually have to ask him again if he was okay with you sleeping over tonight.
to add to his already embarrassing display, he now had to make sure he isn't scaring you off.
"of course you can stay, why wouldn't you?"
coughing right after answering, xiao repeated the same sentence in a much lighter, smoother voice.
"just asking, i want you to be comfortable."
you're certainly no stranger to your boyfriends personality, but unexpectedly to you, he did agree on spending the night together.
you could've bet on it that he would simply switch topics, which of course, wouldn't be a problem either.
"i‘m always comfortable with you by my side."
with someone as xiao, patience was key, you were ready to wait as much as needed for him to warm up to all of this, after all he hadn't encountered relationships like this before, meaning you were his first in many things.
xiao wasn't showing any signs of real emotions anymore, he simply laid flat and waited for you to be done in the bathroom.
you gradually lowered yourself to the snuggly bed afterwards with xiao sharply watching your every move.
from there on, you scooted closer to place your arm on him so he could lay his head on your chest, if he so desired it, you would never force anything on him.
"goodnight xiao, sleep well."
knowing full on well that xiao could become quite embarrassed by you simply looking at him, you closed your tired eyes and appeared to have been dozing off, not fully but almost.
it was then when he slipped himself towards you, closing the gap of your bodies to nuzzle himself in your chest, just a tiny bit, so featherlight he was almost unable to be perceived if it wasn't for his warm breath coating your collarbones.
tired of his own jagged breathing, he bit back his lip to force himself to calm his nerves before letting go of his tender muscles.
as his lips were carefully grazing over your tender skin— not to mention how he thought you were already long sleeping, he added a quick kiss on your collarbone.
you could discern that particular motion of his as a way to show worship and appreciation towards you.
obviously xiao was never full asleep, he honestly couldn't be, even if he tried.
if there was something to happen he had to be full on awake and face the so called enemies and protect you in the process.
but being directly confronted with a newly found emotion like this surely was scary at first, not because he was scared of you, but because he did not encounter a situation like this before.
at one point he debated what was harder to pass, a bloodthirsty fight or this.
yet for you, the fact that he had shown you slight factors of his own vulnerability was surreal, after all, there was nothing better than xiao showing you the undying trust he held towards your person.
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