#three things i have planned to do for the day… only remembers one
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LoTR Characters + Pregnant Reader (Wife!Reader)
Back with more parent AU because it's some of my favorite fluff! Consider this a Part 1 to an anon request that’ll be on its way hehe (also an AU where something happens with Celebrían apparently 😥)
Warnings: conception, pregnancy-related illness and symptoms mentioned, very long post lol
Aragorn
✧ Neither of you had made any concrete plans. No set in stone hour of your marriage reserved for the growth of your family or dubbed too early. Thus, you are unsure how your husband will feel about your news, the fact that you got yourself checked out the first moment of illness, mother's intuition in full service already, it would seem. You cannot keep your smile to yourself, though, as you stroll in search of Aragorn, hand hovering about your own waist as if in disbelief. He had just returned from a hunting trip when you found him, smiling shakily at his amusement when you pulled him immediately aside into the next room over. "What troubles your heart?" The man had intuition of his own, years of silent observation- there was no lying to him. "I just learned that I am with child, Aragorn," you took his hand, seeing no point in being anything but direct, "due for the birth next spring if all goes well." "With blossom comes the next blessing of my kin," your husband replied, that wise look in his blue eyes causing you to shake your head fondly, "what could be more beautiful? What a gift you have given me and how could I ever repay it?" Shaking your head once more, you simply grinned and, sighing with relief and anticipation alike, replied that being the amazing father you know him to be will be all you need. Leaning forward, Aragorn laid his head against yours, brushing your noses as he held you.
✧ Looking out upon the kingdom, the realization that is is his kingdom still sinking in, and that he has made this place a home for new life as well. That this is the very reason he fought for a safe world. It brings such a rush to his heart that he goes off in search of you at once, kissing you warmly and caressing your still-small bump.
✧ Aragorn loves doing anything he possibly can to make your days easier, treating you like the queen you quite literally are! He pampers you with treatment like massages, washing your hair for you, drawing you baths, and the like.
✧ While you no doubt have many people at your disposal, quite similarly your husband enjoys cooking for you by hand and memorizes everything that makes you sick if anything as well as the random foods your cravings make you obsessed with, trying to creatively incorporate them into everything.
✧ You knew it already, but your pregnancy brings about the reminder that this man has such a way with encouraging words, his voice the only thing that cuts through the clouds of your changing moods.
✧ Aragorn is the one who tells you not to be so hard on yourself, that you are doing an amazing thing and you are desirable as yourself, no more and no less. No need to hide yourself, no need to perform, no need to feel anything less than the beautiful soul you have always been. Remember, he tells you, he is going nowhere, and you will endure all together.
Legolas
✧ For so long had you and Legolas hoped for your little life, long enough of trial and hope that you’d all but given up until you felt a shift. Felt on the brink of illness at nearly all times, seeking healing for a mystery illness and leaving with news that had your husband holding you for minutes on end, tears sliding down his cheeks, and refusing to let go of your hand all day. Holding you like you might shatter, his other hand wrapped gently around your waist where his hand can brush the curve of your soon-to-be-growing belly. “We did it, my love. We will finally be three.”
✧ Your husband grows wistful, getting a distant look in his eyes before smiling and reminiscing on his younger days. “What demeanor shall our little one have, do you say? I would not mind having two of you,” he teases, while you say a child like him would be much easier!
✧ “Both of your little ones sound quite healthy.” “Both?” You are shocked, but Legolas’s grin never falters, nor does his surprisingly tight, hearty grip upon your shoulders. “Twins,” he keeps repeating in wonder throughout the day.
✧ You and Legolas have a bet running on the twins, if they are to be identical or not. You think they are both boys, while Legolas thinks he has a little girl waiting for him, too. “Wishful thinking,” you tease him. “Absolutely,” he agrees, smiling softly at you.
✧ As time passes, he does tease you about your waddle. “Shall I slow down a bit?” Cheeky prince, but that’s why you love him!
✧ Legolas’s eyes never fix you with anything but awe. He is simply amazed at all the wonders your body is capable of and what it endures. Even though that wonder also manifests as him almost constantly asking if you are alright, it is worth it when your husband looks at you as though captivated by a goddess.
Boromir
✧ Boromir caught you with your eyes bulging out of your head, not a single chance of delaying your discussion. Such news as you have just received can only be considered a blessing, and yet you still are shaken to the core with the spiking precursor of excitement and hope, hope that your husband would be happy. Your words burst forth the moment he took your hands, asking you whatever was wrong and nodding faster and faster with each step of your detailed medical visit. His smile grew and grew until he could hardly help himself, taking your face in his hands and pulling you into a kiss that more than assuaged your worries. “Why do you look so worried? Such a wonderful blessing was beyond anything I could imagine,” he tells you, a hand reaching to rest gently upon you.
✧ He all but tackles you to bed that night, kissing again and again your lips, your cheeks, and down finally to your belly.
✧ Boromir’s appreciation of your body never ceases your entire wait. His hands always caressing you, his words always sweet upon your ears, especially to cut through the deprecating ones your own lips utter. It baffles your husband that you cannot see how utterly glowing you are.
✧ One hundred percent though will he be teasing you about the odd cravings you get; even as he goes to fetch them he’s making faces, asking if you’re sure, joking about what strange taste the little one has.
✧ You suspect you are carrying a son while Boromir’s guess is a little girl. After you remind him that a mother knows, he rests a hand over your bump and replies with a teasing grin “Why can’t a father know as well?” “Because you do not have to carry him for the better part of a year!”
✧ One of Boromir's favorite things in this world is the sight of how his lent garments fit you tighter and tighter, bringing a twinge to both the loving and the possessive sides of his heart...and his hands to wrap around you or cup your cheeks and pull you into a kiss!
Gimli
✧ His intuition is off the proverbial charts. It is he who first makes any mention of your chances, stating you should not strain yourself in your condition. You are confused, you even protest, but in the end you have your little appointment and your husband has a smug little moment of ‘I told you so’ before the realization of just what he’d been sensing hits him, dropping his jaw and sending his arms flying about you, lifting you up into the air with a hearty laugh. “The mighty line continues! And thanks to such a beautiful lassie no less! You'll want for nothing, I promise you, and no harm'll come to either of you while I yet draw breath."
✧ Has strong opinions about how well you should be eating, so barring you being stricken with sickness Gimli will be making or otherwise providing for you the heartiest of meals, all the things he believes are necessary to raise up a strong little dwarfling. Thank the fortitude and solace of his people, but you are sick very little your entire journey with this and all other little ones you share!
✧ Given the strength of dwarven genetics, you both assume that you are expecting a boy; thus, your husband insists on crafting a tiny axe for him. “For when he’s older, of course!” Gimli assures you, waving his hands defensively.
✧ No worries about your pregnancy weight here- suffice it to say that a dwarf finds the extra pounds quite appealing and has no hesitation about showing you such!
✧ Any exhaustion you feel is the only thing that stops Gimli from taking you around to all his friends and loved ones and likely anyone else who will listen and announce that he has a child on the way!
✧ Nesting is a very strong instinct of his! Gimli builds and crafts by hand all of your baby's furniture and decor, even an adorable mobile of horses, little dwarves with pickaxes, and little effigies of your favorite animal all dangling above his crib! Leaning his head against your belly, he asks the baby "Well, what do you think? Only the finest for my little flame!"
Frodo
✧ Your husband wasn’t sure at first. Not sure if he would feel whole enough after all he endured to bring a life into this world, but you, oh, you… The one who brought life vividly rushing back to his heart, color returning to his life and comfort to his pain. One day a pang struck his heart and he realized it would mean the world if after it all he was able to create life, and more importantly to have something so amazing come of your love. Soon after you both eagerly hoped for the signs, and it took but a few months. Frodo worried you would be sick, but confirmation comes after weeks without your cycle, nothing more. For once, no pain shall come to Frodo Baggins or those he loves.
✧ Your health is his greatest concern, so much so in fact that Frodo has soon befriended practically every midwife in the Shire, melting them with his endearing eagerness to know all he can about your possible afflictions and what you need. His concerns soon gather you the proverbial village of help should you ever send Frodo off for something beyond his breadth.
✧ It breaks Frodo's heart when his nightmares or moments of panic coincide with your own fragile emotions for the first time, for he should be caring for you, not the other way around, but when you hold each other, tears soaking into the opposite shirt, he realizes that what you two have is an understanding and trust strong enough to fortify each other even in darkness.
✧ In case you were not already aware, you are so lucky in your choice of husband! Discussing names soon emerges into your conversation and it almost takes you aback how quickly agreements on a girl and boy name are reached!
✧ The one time during your entire wait for your little one that brings tears to Frodo’s eyes is the day you bring home a bolt of fabric and when he asks what it is for, you answer to make him and your new arrival matching garments.
✧ You catch him smiling widely at you, love glowing in his bright blue eyes as he watches you do even the smallest things, your little waddle or the way you practice folding diaper cloth. All you can imagine is those same eyes fixed upon a babe in his arms, shooting Frodo the same look right back.
Sam
✧ It seemed that every other conversation you shared with your beloved Samwise revolved around babies, so much so that your few still-unmarried friends had grown sick of it. Anyone with a baby in the Shire, though, knew who to look toward for care! You and Sam gushed over little clothes, little hands, went on for goodness-knows-how-long about how much you'd like a little Sam and he wants a miniature version of the loveliest girl he'd ever seen followed of course by you saying why not both? Sam loved life so much, saw beauty in growth and creation and every joy in it, so of course he wanted a big family and all his infectious sunshine on the subject just made you fall in love with him more and more. Months of trying passed, though, before you came to Sam in a daze, before you cupped his precious face in your hands and whispered to him we did it. Before he tackled you to the soft grassy ground and held you, weeping tears of joy and kissing your hands, your cheeks, finally your lips once he'd spoken how much he loved you.
✧ Takes to sleeping a bit lower, his head nuzzled against your torso. In the night you can feel his nose and lips ghosting over it and even hear little whispers when you both can't sleep, but you say nothing, letting Sam have his moments with the little one.
✧ The worry he has about everything the first time around. "Are you sure you can eat that? I don't want you to get sick." "Is that too heavy?" "Don't trouble yourself a mite when I'm right here, I'll bend over for it." "Alright, only if you're certain nothing will happen to the baby, sweetheart." As much as you want to remind him that you are still a fully functional woman, you know that Sam is an action man and this is his way of showing he cares.
✧ The meals he cooks you. You will be eating like a queen all because Sam wants to keep the baby strong, of course! As a bonus, it truly is like he knows what sets you off and avoids those things without even having to ask.
✧ “Imagine all the wee feet running through here,” Sam muses in bed one night, your head tucked in the crook of his neck. “The little hands grasping ours,” you add. “All the little ribbons we can tie in a girl’s hair.” “Taking your little boy out to the garden!” Once again, your friends act positively sick of how sweet you are, but inside anyone can see how deliriously happy you and Sam are and feel warmed by it.
✧ “When the time comes,” Sam always assures you, your hand tightly in his, “I’ll be right here. Wild horses could hardly drag your Sam away.”
Merry
✧ Your reveal is made a bit anticlimactic thanks to your husband’s teasing ways. “You’re knitting.” Glancing down at your work, you simply nod. “Yes.” “You never knit.” Merry’s eyes narrow. “Is it for somebody?” “If you must know,” you set your needles carefully in your lap and tease back, “this is for your child. Any complaints now?” “My child?” Jaw dropping, Merry looks at you like you’d just offered him the whole of Middle Earth. “That’s right,” your voice softens, even cracking a bit with emotion at the sight of his smile, “you’re going to be a father, Merry.”
✧ Merry’s adorable little habit of making you a pillow pile to lay on during your time of the month carries right through to your pregnancy. And of course it continues even when you remind him you’ll not be able to stand up from in because he will be right there to help you up!
✧ Because you've taken up knitting, Merry wheedles with all his charm and love and kisses an additional creation from you: a sweater made from the same yarn as baby's. "You are lucky to be so adorable," you tease him, looking up from your work to kiss his lovely lips. Maybe, you thought, a whole matching set for three would be in order, though…
✧ Another one who teases you, joking about how he is finally able to outrun you!
✧ The type of father to chastise the baby whenever they kick you too hard, lecturing to the front of your dress about hurting your mother and how that simply won’t do, then looking up at you with a humored smile.
✧ Compliments increase at least twofold upon your revelation, Merry never sparing the kindest words about your strength, certainly, but mostly your beauty. Never once during any pregnancy do you feel unloved, unwanted, unattractive, for even when your eyes can find no light within your reflection there your husband is practically worshipping every corner of your form.
Pippin
✧ Desire for a family was something that had drawn you two together as a couple, though you may have found yourself talking Pippin down from ten children! “Maybe start with five,” you would always tease him. So the moment your hypothesis is tested and confirmed, a grin you can’t remove spreads across your face and you run to collect everything for your surprise. Surprise is the only word you can use when Pippin opens his gift and sees the tiny knitted hat you’ve placed inside the box. “What is this for? Little small, is it not?” “If it was for us, perhaps.” It ended up taking you reaching out for his hand and resting it upon your lower belly for the massive grin to spread across his face, but once it does Pippin is laughing loudly and giddily, swinging you back and forth in ecstasy!
✧ Runs to get you whatever your need with barely an question. After all, who is he to say what it's like being with child, and if you want it, you shall have it. Hot water bottle? Certainly. A cup of tea? Of course. Three more pillows? Why, he'll strip your whole bed down. Panics a little if the request is to relieve pain, so prepare to hear a crash or the shuffle of a trip or two before you have the item in hand or on body.
✧ "What is this for?" "What are these?" Lucky you love him, your husband does have many a question of all the supplies you gather for after your new addition is welcomed. "Oh, to keep the hands safe? That makes sense." "Wait, you need to wear that... to catch the bloo- oh, my." He gulps. "I'm going out right now. I'm getting you a cake and some jewelry and some flowers and anything else you'd like."
✧ Can barely keep his hands to himself. Pippin was always the most affectionate husband you could ask for, but now? Now you two are practically a package set and nary can you travel without his arm around you, hand about your waist and gently running up and down over your little growing bump.
✧ Your baby seems to have inherited your husband’s personality, for even before the birth many signs of how active your little one is are present! Those poor ribs of yours will get kicked more than a few times with all the fluttering your little one stirs up inside of you! Pippin, of course, wants to feel it all and luckily he is never far from the scene. If he is, though, you bet he will run!
✧ Pippin is always laying with his cheek resting on your belly, talking to the baby about anything from how his day’s gone to how they have the most amazing and beautiful mother. Your heart can’t help fluttering every time.
Faramir
✧ Faramir has the most uncanny way of reading you like a book, a habit endearing as it is frustrating. Thus the moment he catches you smiling to yourself he is smiling back, approaching you with teasing question of what has you so happy. For once, though, you have the satisfaction of catching your husband off guard, resting your head against his shoulder and a hand upon his chest as you tell him you just cannot wait to see him as a father. "Someday, my love," he takes your hand and kisses it, "if I am so blessed." Giggling, you shake your head against him. "Blessed indeed! Someday shall be this fall," you answer, and peeling back from him you receive another spike of satisfaction at his wide blue eyes, the drop of his jaw and the race of his heart beneath your hand. "Are you certain?" You nod. This time, he takes both of your hands in his and with tears in his eyes thanks the heavens for you even as he shakily laughs, your bright demeanor never failing to put a smile upon his face. "Our child will be so loved." "I know."
✧ Your husband finds himself lost in reverie more and more often, drifting out of reality into some distant, but nowhere near out-of-reach, dream of your family, seeing you as a mother the most beautiful sight he can conjure.
✧ Faramir adores holding you from behind, his hands curled gently over where your bump forms and his head resting gently upon your shoulder, flowing hair tickling your cheeks and neck lightly.
✧ "One for each of us," is Faramir's joke when one of Gondor's finest medics grants you the knowledge that you are not expecting one child, but two. Your husband is there in the storms, the waves of anxiety rolling within you over being there for your twins. "You are not alone," he always reminds you, a hand joined with yours right over the twins' little hearts.
✧ If you wanted a husband who actually does his due diligence learning all he can about growing babies, birth, and postpartum care, then Faramir is another excellent choice! He’ll be spouting off facts about the whole thing ranging from what size the babies currently are to why you might have contractions after giving birth. Your mood determines whether you listen in or tell him to kindly stop.
✧ Just as with you, Faramir’s insecurities sometimes get the better of him, but they also fuel him, bringing a fire you can see to his fair eyes as he speaks with determination how he will love all his children equally.
Eomer
✧ Pride glows upon your countenance as you flit about the kitchen putting the finishing touches on the roast you'd made for dinner. A kingly feast is in order, for not only had you heard your husband performed exceptional drills this day, but you yourself are the host of something exceptional. Eomer and you have been enjoying each other's company much these days, so the news is not so much of a shock as it is a celebration, exuberance at a line enduring, two dreams fulfilled as one, especially for your husband, who speaks often of how he longs for a full, boisterous home. Six if he's lucky. Well, you can hardly wait to help him along, pulling Eomer into your arms for an enthusiastic kiss before he can even toe his boots off, and when he chuckles and asks what has taken hold of his beautiful wife you let your news fly. Shouting for joy with abandon, Eomer lifts you up into his arms bridal-style, kissing your lips again and again. Dinner is all but forgotten as he kneels before you, holding your waist and pressing kisses all over the bodice of your dress and thanking you for making his day, nay, his life, perfect.
✧ Eomer is always proud of you, but the moment he finds out you are with child that feeling swells and positively drips off of him, every outing with him suddenly seeming quite like a chance for him to show you off. An arm around you at all times, a smile of great joy and satisfaction, news shared to all who dare make conversation with you both, and even kisses in public! Eomer is simply on top of the world and not a thing will topple his spirits.
✧ As somebody who never much studied the workings of women, though, Eomer is… a bit out of his depth. You will have to teach him some things like why your emotions swing so or what to look out for to know when your water breaks. This man has been in battle, seen heads roll in the most literal sense, and yet when you describe the eventual passing of your placenta his entire face contorts in a look of horror that has you all but doubled over in laughter.
✧ “You look so beautiful with child,” Eomer purrs, “we’ll have to do this again sometime.” You smack his arm, but cannot resist giggling at the way your husband still gives you butterflies.
✧ Your new addition had not even arrived yet and Eomer is commissioning a child-sized saddle, unable to contain his excitement as he describes all their future rides to you!
✧ As you dream up names, Eomer has many suggestions from the great halls of his own people, ancestors and great warriors alike, but making considerations of your own background is equally important to him, so he is more than willing to go back and forth for the perfect solution.
Eowyn
✧ No one had thought it possible, but they should have known. Impossible was not in Eowyn’s lexicon, and that was exactly why you loved her, one part within many of why you became her wife. And now, the healer confirmed you were carrying her child. …Very well, technically her banner-bearer’s child as the two of you had been forced to get a bit creative, but to have support and help from those who had begun with such uncertainty meant the world. Even Eomer had come around, having offered similarly, but of course you had to remind him that Eowyn wanted a child of her own, not a niece or nephew! Without Guthláf’s, er, donation, you would never bear witness to the broad and beautiful smile on your wife’s face, the tears glistening in the gorgeous blue of her eyes. “A child…” “Our child,” you add, leaning forward until your foreheads touched and noses brushed, a tearful smile upon your own face as your wife gently held your waist.
✧ Having worked so many times as a nurse lends well at least to Eowyn, for she is firm and unrelenting in her urging, nay, forcing, you to rest. No ifs, ands, or buts are to be accepted from your strong-willed beauty, let her dote on you, for she does it with great pleasure. And besides, the harder you fight, the harder she'll work to keep you lain down.
✧ Understanding the pain and symptoms of your time of the month completely also translates; thus Eowyn is ready with remedies for your aches and pains, hot water and herbs awaiting you. She rarely snaps back at your moods, choosing to be silent in the worst of times because she knows. Really, she does.
✧ She cooks for you, and whether you say anything about that or not likely depends on how willing to hide your honesty behind the hormone excuse if it is not taken well.
✧ Reminds you constantly how strong you are. In your lowest of moments, the times you struggle to stand and straighten your aching spine, feeling massive and utterly useless, Eowyn is there to hold your hand and tell you that you are hosting and creating life as she so speaks. You have made the ultimate sacrifice of your body and the greatest of pain to bring just as great a blessing to yourself and your wife. Far from useless, you are divine.
✧ “What does it feel like?” Resting her head on her hand, the one that wasn’t lain against your fluttering belly, she questions you as the baby kicks. “For you?” Part of her wishes to have this experience herself someday, while another takes your descriptions with trepidation. She does not enjoy being restricted, after all.
Haldir
✧ “Lie down, please, my love.” Haldir’s concern with your sickness increased daily as did the pain of seeing you feeling so weak and ill. You tried to push through and for as much as he loved your strength, your husband was not having it this time. Pride was not worth seeing you doubled over again, whether from pain or, arguably worse, illness. You relented in the end, resting and beneath the spinning of your head at the end of the day feeling not a seed of energy to protest an inspection. Healing herbs had you perking up a bit, and perked up you needed to be when the dark-haired, round-faced healer nodded sagely and with a wide smile told you you were with child, and these early days were likely to be the worst. For the first time in days the sobs that escaped you were accompanied by a smile, your face utterly breaking as Haldir held you against his chest, weeping too and thanking you for all you would endure for this blessing.
✧ Physically carries you places as often as he can be spared to do so. Lifts you up bridal-style to move you across your home and sits you up before he feeds you. Your illness brings out a tender, caring side you have never seen in your strong, stoic husband, but it makes your heart swell that much more for him and for the life you two are to have with your child.
✧ Another symptom you experience is the aching and swelling of your feet, but Haldir sits you down facing him and makes the best work of them he can, hands gentle as always as they soothe your skin.
✧ Even in the later months as your illness abates, though, your husband remains protective as ever, standing between you and any potential harm with the fiercest look upon his face and a hand upon your middle, even if the threat is an object you’ve hurt yourself on.
✧ The way shock melts into a wide, ecstatic smile unlike your husband’s typical demeanor when the healer repeats that yes, she could definitely hear two heartbeats beside yours is worth more than any gold in the world. Haldir pulls you into his arms, chuckling deeply. You feel his head shake slightly, slowly, atop yours in wonder.
✧ When you sleep, Haldir will always be holding you close, whether it is an arm draped over your bump loosely if you’re hot or need space or else you fully tucked into your husband’s warm embrace.
Galadriel
✧ Galadriel is actually the one who assuages your worries that your dream will not come true, having full faith in you as much as the magic of this world. And she is right, of course, confidence proven in the aid you receive from a member of her guard and even the way she knows it to be true before the healer even confirms the news. As much as she jokes about seeing a glow around you, the width of her beautiful blue eyes, the shine therein, tells you that your wife is as elated to hear it beyond a shadow of a doubt as you are: you are hosting a little life for you both to nurture.
✧ You being pregnant only aids in her mysterious nature. She can be convening in a council with the wisest of minds from afar and will use you as an excuse to step away at her will. "If you will excuse me. My wife is with child." They are not even aware she is married. Some of them may not understand how it all works, but before they can ask any clarifying questions Galadriel has already slipped away to be with you.
✧ One tendency you unwittingly adopt is falling asleep in the oddest of places, your exhausted body giving out upon its own terms. Always will you wake up draped in one of your wife’s shawls or blankets, however, no matter how odd the spot.
✧ Both of you can hardly resist the allure of tiny garments, smiling every time you see them. It also rings a bell of realization within your minds as you hold a tiny gown up to your midsection. Truly as you speak, there is a tiny body within you! What magic it is to be a woman!
✧ What magic indeed, you later reflect as another pain strikes your back not long after. Hosting tiny bodies came with all the assorted blessings and curses of your kind, one not long without the other. Sighing, you make to approach the chaise across the room and soon your wife is with you, moving its drapes aside and lowering you gently to its cushions, a soothing hand tracing up and down your aching spine.
✧ "I hope she looks like you," you both turn to each other and say simultaneously, mothers' intuition firmly aligned in your hearts, from which so much love for each other pours from, Galadriel immediately drawing you closer to press her lips to the crown of your head.
Arwen
✧ Elrond had been quite hesitant about your relationship with his daughter at first- were you the best choice for her? Could someone like you keep her safe? And how, of course, would she be given the child she so desired? Questions you yourself had posed to her, but she refused to listen, telling you her mind, and heart, were sealed. Little do you know, however, that all of Rivendell would come to love you as their own, see and praise the way you cared for Arwen, and in Lindir’s case even provide the healers with a chance at you giving your wife the family you both yearned for. The moment you tell her the healers’ method worked and she is to he a mother, you both are, her features lighten, taking on the wondrous joy of youth again as she grabs your face, falling onto you with a kiss of pure love.
✧ So accusing if you've overexerted yourself, leaning in closer with a look of sometimes-teasing, sometimes-serious scrutiny. "Surely you did not carry that up the stairs all by yourself, right?"
✧ Do not even bother trying to fake feeling up to anything, whatever the task, for Arwen can see right through you and will insist you sit down, taking your hands in hers. "Rest. You have your burden- let me take the others. My heart bears no ill."
✧ Her affection gets softer, light touches to your waist and hands resting over yours. One hand upon your hip or belly and one on your shoulder as you two sway gently, foreheads pressed together.
✧ Arranging your nursery is one of Arwen's favorite pastimes: painting a gorgeous meadow mural upon the wall, stitching a soft toy to lay within the crib, asking you which fabric you prefer for blankets.
✧ Your bundle of joy can make sleep difficult, but one silver lining Arwen points out in a low whisper one morning is how many sunrises you’ve now gotten to share with each other.
Elrond
✧ Reservations about having a fourth child so long after the others disappeared every time Lord Elrond caught sight of you holding a neighbor’s child or even just showing the loving care that had him convinced he would be well even marrying a second time at all. Every smile, every sweet thing you did, all of it came back to Elrond in a rush when you told him he was to become a father again. For once he did not feel too old, too tired, nothing but the elation of his every desire unfurling to him before his very eyes from your warm embrace. To be chosen as the father to your child was the greatest honor the lord of Rivendell could imagine.
✧ Your every ailment is minimal, for Elrond knows exactly what is best for each and every one. Nausea? The perfect tea blend awaits to calm the waves you feel. Aches and cramps? Your husband is happy to give you the most heavenly massage, his hands finding every needed spot as if by magic. A swell of emotion? He does not speak unless bidden to, simply holding you through sudden waves of tears, frustration, or both until he feels your body relax against his.
✧ Being married to an elf with the gift of foresight comes with the benefit of worries soothed, but also a joke shared between you both. For many a time you teasingly chastise him not to look too far and spoil the surprise of whether you have a son or daughter on the way!
✧ Standing behind you, Elrond rests his hands around your middle and presses a kiss to your cheek. Just when you think the bliss of this moment, of having your whole little new family all together within your husband’s arms, cannot increase is when Elrond shifts his hands, taking on the great weight you carry. Peering up into his soft blue eyes, your whole body deflates in a sigh of sweet relief as he holds you.
✧ He can never truly understand your experience, but Elrond has witnessed this process. All he wishes is to tell you all your pain shall pass, even the worst memories will fade and ease, but such words will sound insensitive, so all he does is continue to hold your hand and stand proudly at your side.
✧ One thing your husband cannot resist is showering your future little one with gifts, even jewelry for when they are a bit older and the tiniest circlet to place upon the beloved head, matching Adar's perfectly.
Want to meet the little ones? Part 2 coming soon 😉
Taglist: @lokilover476 @fuckyoumakeart @kilibaggins @mossthebogwitch @ibabblealot @stormchaser819 @pirate-lord-of-narnia @datglutengoblin @letmelickyoureyeballs @mossyskinn @wordbunch | Message/Reply/Ask to join 🥰
#lord of the rings#lotr#lotr imagines#lotr x reader#the fellowship of the ring#aragorn#legolas#boromir#gimli#frodo#sam#merry#pippin#faramir#eomer#eowyn#haldir#galadriel#arwen#elrond#female reader#wife reader#pregnant reader#parent au
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Stay (Dean Winchester x OFC)
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Original Female Character
Rating: PG-13 for swearing and mentions of sex.
Summary: Dean and Avery have a two-night stand, and after that weekend, they go their separate ways. They never expected to see each other again, but the universe has other plans.
A/N: Guys, where do I even begin? It’s been ages. I miss you. I see your messages, your likes, your reblogs. Thank you. Here’s this. I wrote a lot of it on my phone, so bear with me if there are typos.
It just goes like this, doesn't it?
One night where the both of them could let go of expectations, of being who the universe was making them be. One night.
But just like they knew they didn't have a choice but to be who the universe wanted them to be, they should have known the universe would pull the absolute worst April Fool's Day prank of all time.
They gape at each other, minds racing as images of tangled sheets, open mouths, and moonlit smiles come flooding back.
The task at hand doesn't let them linger too long.
She's firing with military precision, and he's right there with her, sweat dripping down his jaw as he reloads round after round, wondering if the universe put them both here to die together.
But then Sam shows up, like he always does. He saves them both, and the three of them save the day.
It takes longer for Dean to work up the courage to look her in her eyes. He feels-- he feels ashamed somehow, that he let her go that rainy Sunday morning.
There was never an argument or anything. They both just knew it was time. She had said she had to catch a flight and get back to work, and he lied and told her he had to do the same thing.
They had two nights of connection, of passion, but also of affection. He told her things he never told anyone. They spent a Saturday night fully clothed, eating take out straight from the containers in a hotel's king-sized bed. He felt comfortable with her like he hadn't felt with anyone in years.
And yeah, it sucked when she left. He sort of hoped there'd be a knock on the door saying she missed her flight, but he wasn't sad. They both knew what they were signing up for when they met at the bar that Friday night, eyes only for each other.
Still, he thinks he's remembered her kiss every day since.
He still thinks no one has ever touched him like she did.
So, yeah, he's a little angry and flustered when he sees her here, because she said she worked in marketing or some bullshit, and while he didn't expect her to be totally truthful with a stranger, this is a little too coincidental to be believed.
She bats his hands away when he offers to help her bandage a big scrape on her leg, and he tries not to make a face at the rejection. He's very aware of Sam watching him closely, but he has no idea what to say.
There's no point in lying about knowing her. He told Sam that he had spent a weekend with a woman the day he came home from his impromptu trip, but that it was nothing special, nothing but some no strings attached fun.
Turns out Dean might be the one who had a few strings.
.
Her face feels like it's on fire. Her game plan so far is just to refuse to speak to him, but that feels a bit stupid given the situation they just found themselves in.
Jesus Christ, but he couldn't have said he was Dean Winchester when they met? To be fair - she didn't give a lot of details about herself either. They didn't even really talk about work except when she said there was no way she could stretch her trip into one more day. She had to work.
(She lied about work just like he did, but that's neither here nor there)
She just never thought she'd still be thinking about him months later, much less seeing him in person. In the middle of a hunt.
She did have a real job. She wasn't lying about that. Her work for the FBI is very, very, VERY top secret. Fringe Division has been practically dead for years, but ever since the almost-apocalypse (she supposes she has Dean to thank for that, too), their work is more important than ever.
She was just supposed to be doing field work. Recon. She was never supposed to get involved, but here she is, trying to put a bandage on herself in the middle of the woods.
She can’t stop herself from watching his hands, remembering when they traced every inch of her skin and made her gasp and writhe and the way in the next breath they’d find a ticklish spot and make her laugh.
It’s just all so unbelievable.
Sam is the one to break the ice, which feels inevitable. “So. Anyone want to explain this?” He gestures between her and Dean.
Dean’s jaw clenches. For a moment she feels frustrated because why is he angry? They parted mutually. They both told lies and half truths and let themselves escape in high thread count sheets and each other.
She thrusts out her hand. The one not currently covered in blood. “Avery Harper.”
“Avery.” Sam repeats.
“Technically it’s Special Agent Avery Harper, but I won’t tell if you won’t.”
Dean chokes out a laugh, but it’s a little bitter. Avery’s smile doesn’t meet her eyes.
“I think we have a lot of catching up to do,” she suggests. “Food?”
She turns and heads toward her car before anyone says anything else. She hears a whispered argument, an exasperated sigh, and then finally the sound of footsteps on the crushed gravel. A hand grabs her elbow a moment later, then releases her like she’s on fire.
“We look like shit.” Dean’s voice is gruff. “Pizza at our place instead.”
The drive to their place is pleasant, at least. She struggles to keep up with Dean’s car, but she suspects he’s doing it on purpose so she lets him. He’s never truly out of her sight. She uses the time to try to work her way out of this, but decides there’s no point.
The only thing she needs to do is make them understand she’s not trying to take over their turf and that she has no interest in arresting them, and hope that they hear her out.
She follows along a long dirt driveway. The building looks rundown from the outside, but she trusts them. Trusts Dean.
Inside, she’s not ashamed of the way her mouth falls open as she takes in the gleaming tiles and smooth wood. The place is incredible.
“The inner sanctum?”
“Something like that.” Dean mutters, brushing past her. They both pause at the contact.
“I’m going to…. order pizza”. Sam says, quickly making himself scarce.
She and Dean stand there in the fading sunlight streaming in through a nearby window, and the light catches on his eyes. He’s hurt. She can see that, and she does feel guilty. Even though they were both doing the same thing, she’s realizing now that he probably would have loved to know he was completely understood.
That night, even though she didn’t know who he was, she felt a connection that was deeper than attraction. Now she knows why.
“I didn’t know who you were.” She says, hands tightening at her sides.
“How is that possible?”
“Not every agent is out to get you.”
He smirks. “Most of my interactions with the feds say the opposite.”
She exhales.
He rubs a hand over his face. The sound of his stubble scratching against weathered palms takes her back to a warm bed, a feeling of being so cocooned with someone else she couldn’t tell where he ended and she began.
“Is Avery even your real name?” He asks, voice rough.
“Yes.”
A beat. “Marketing?”
She can’t help but laugh. “I didn’t know what to say!”
“You could have bragged about having a badass job.”
She’s surprised, but tries not to show it. “So could you.”
He shrugs. “Wanted to… shed it.”
“Me too.” She admits softly.
This time when he meets her eyes, his are vulnerable, a dark green that leaves goosebumps on her arms. “I—“ he stops himself. She wishes he wouldn’t. He changes tactics. “Let me take a look at that arm.”
“It’s alright-“
“Ave. Let me.”
A shortened version of her name hits her right in the gut. It’s familiar, intimate in a way she hadn’t been expecting. “Okay.” She relents.
.
He can’t take his eyes off her.
He was angry for a minute, he felt off guard, off kilter, but now that she’s in front of him he can’t bring himself to hold a grudge. He’s just happy to see her.
The FBI.
What a fucking day.
She doesn’t tell him much about why she was hunting, how she knew about the fight he and Sam were in on, how she showed up right when they did and where any of her intel came from.
They’ve always known that someone somewhere in the feds had an inside track, and it always bothered him. But because it’s her, he can’t find it in himself to be angry.
He thinks of the way she didn’t hesitate, just set up shoulder to shoulder with him and aimed her weapon like she’d be damned if anyone or anything tried to get close to the Winchesters.
He’s pretty amazed by her, he’s got to admit. She’s everything he’s ever wanted wrapped up in the most beautiful package, and that’s what makes him pause. Because he’s never allowed to have good things for long.
In his bathroom he inspects her wounds, uses the excuse to crowd her a little bit, inhales the familiar scent of citrus and vanilla that follows her like a cloud.
If she notices she doesn’t say anything and he’s grateful.
Her hand fits just so in his.
“Thank you.” She says eventually.
“You don’t have to thank me.”
“Dean—“
He looks up, sees her eyes uncertain, a little wild.
She kisses him before he can take his next breath. It sends heat sizzling up his spine, electricity crackling in the space between them.
It’s exactly how he remembers it, and somehow more. More because they’re truly themselves now, no secrets between them.
His hands are in her hair. Hers are tight on his hips, digging in, a desperation in her touch that he's relieved to feel, proof that he isn't the only one feeling this way.
When the need for air is too much, they wrench apart, gasping. Her mouth goes to his neck, and his lips find her forehead, and he can't do this again. He can't pretend.
"Wait. Avery, wait."
Her eyes are unfocused when she looks at him. "Sorry--"
He shakes his head. "Don't be. I-- god, I wanted that. I just... it's too much. I can't."
"I've thought about this for months." She admits, and his eyes slide shut.
"Don't tell me that."
"It's the truth." When he opens his eyes again, her smile is sad, but there's a bit of hope there too, and it makes his heart pick up speed. "I didn't want to go, that morning. I wanted to give you my number, I wanted to see you again."
"I did too. I wanted you to come back."
"It feels cursed, Dean." She says quietly. "This-- this is all too much of a coincidence."
He nods. "I know. But-- is that so bad?" He leans close, lips at her temple. Can't stop touching her. "Can't we just give ourselves something to be happy about?"
"We do have a lot to fill each other in about." She agrees, words sounding more like a moan in the quiet room.
"Stay." His voice is hoarse. "Stay with me. We'll figure it all out after."
He's tired of denying himself things he wants, things that make him happy. And if all the decisions he's made over the last few months, every thought and every choice have lead him right back here to her, then who is he to question it?
She stays.
#dean winchester x ofc#dean winchester x oc#supernatural fanfiction#spn fanfiction#dean winchester fanfiction#not my first original fic on this blog in like 3 years#god#i had a thought and it wouldn't go away
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Motor Mouth ~ *Choi Beomgyu*
Summary: Beomgyu and you can talk for hours at a time and never get bored with each other. However, the rest of TXT finds all the talking a bit obnoxious. That's why Yeonjun decides to propose a little bet between you...
Pairing: Choi Beomgyu X Fem!Reader
Genre: Fluffyish Drabble
Word Count: 1194
Warning: Bets
Masterlist
Taglist: @samepoisonsamevine @kpop-will-kill-me @maeleelee @mxnsxngie
The day you met Beomgyu was the worst day ever for the rest of Tomorrow X Together. That's because the two of you didn't know how to stop talking. While Beomgyu loved how nothing he said or did annoyed you, you were grateful to have an engaging conversation partner. Those who were around you when the two of you started talking had to suffer with all of the talking you both got done in a short amount of time.
"Are they still talking?" Kai asked, removing one of his earbuds.
Soobin sighed and shook his head. "Yeah. For the pasty forty-five minutes."
"It's amazing they still have so much to say to each other after four months of non-stop talking." Taehyun shook his head. "It's crazy. But I guess that's love for you."
Kai sighed. "Four months? That's crazy! You know, I bet the two of them can't go one day without talking to each other."
Yeonjun gasped, sitting up straight as an idea entered his mind. "That's it! Kai, you're a genius!"
"Thank you for finally noticing."
"We should get the two of them to stop talking for a whole day. See if they can do it because I know they won't be able to."
A grin stretched across Taehyun's lips. "We should! It'll be so funny to watch them struggle!"
Soobin, on the other hand, shook his head. "I don't know guys. I feel like that's going to do more harm than good."
"It's just for a day, Soobin. It's not like we're going to make them stop talking forever!" Yeonjun rolled his eyes. "If they can go twenty four hours without talking to each other, we'll try to convince the managers to let them have a whole weekend long date. If they can't do it, they have to do all of the dorm chores for a month!"
"You are cruel but fair." Taehyun shook his head.
"I think calling him just cruel is the right response." Soobin muttered. "But if the three of you are in agreement, you go right ahead and propose your little deal. Leave me out of it."
"Fair enough." With a nod, Yeonjun stood up and walked over to where Beomgyu was talking with you. "Alright, cut the chit chat. I have a deal to strike with both of you."
"A deal?" You tilted your head to the side at what he was saying. "What kind of deal?"
"The kind of deal that gets the rest of us out of doing chores." Yeonjun explained. "If the two of you can go twenty four hours without talking to each other, you guys can go on a weekend-long date. But if you can't, you have to do all of the dorm chores for a month."
"That doesn't seem fair." Beomgyu shook his head. "No, it should be two weekend long dates versus dorm chores for a month."
Yeonjun rolled his eyes. "Fine, whatever, but do you agree to this deal?"
Beomgyu glanced at you and squeezed your hand. "It's only twenty four hours. Do you think you can do it?"
You give a weak nod. "I can sure try."
"Then you have yourself a deal."
"Your time starts now."
At first, it was pretty easy. You decided to say goodbye to the boys and head back to your place. You did all of your evening chores, made dinner, and watched a movie. However, after your movie, you desperately wanted to call Beomgyu and tell him all about it. But you remembered the deal. Two weekend long dates just to not talk to your boyfriend for twenty four hours. You could do this. So instead of calling him, you began to plan out a weekend long date for the two of you.
The next day, things got even harder. There were no good night texts and no good morning texts. There was no update on his schedule for the day and you couldn't tell him about the cute puppy you saw as you went to get coffee. Your day at work dragged on for what felt like hours. Sure, you talked to your co-workers, but it wasn't the same. You wanted to talk to Beomgyu and tell him everything.
As you were leaving work, counting down the last three hours of the deal, you got a call from Soobin.
"Hello?"
"I have no idea why the two of you agreed to this stupid little bet in the first place." He began. "But you need to talk to Beomgyu."
"But what about the dorm chores?"
"Forget it! I'll still make them do all of their chores! You seriously need to talk to your boyfriend!"
"But..." You sighed. "Maybe this is a good thing. I know you guys think we talk too much with each other. I started to see it too. And I feel like we're too dependent on each other. Maybe this break is what we need in our relationship."
He scoffed. "Frankly, I think your boyfriend would disagree. But if I may ask, why do the two of you talk so much? I mean, I feel like after four months of non-stop talking the two of you would have run out of things to say."
You shake your head. "Oh no! Not at all! See, Beomgyu is practically the only person I can talk to about anything and everything I think of and not feel judged for it. He listens to all my crazy theories and answers all my dumb questions, and he enjoys it! Talking to him is what makes me feel the most loved."
"Wow, that is so sweet! I hope the rest of the boys heard it too!" Based on Soobin's words and sarcastic tone of voice, you realized you were on speaker phone and it made you blush.
"Soobin? Did Beomgyu hear that?" You quietly asked.
Instead of Soobin answering, it was Beomgyu. "Yes! Yes I heard all of it! I love you, I love you, I love you! And I never want to do this kind of stupid bet again! I want to talk to you all day and all night for as long as we both can!"
"I love you too, Beomgyu, but we lost the bet." You sigh. "Now we don't get to go on our weekend long dates."
"Don't worry about that!" Soobin interjected. "I made my own deal with the rest of the group. You both get one weekend together. Sounds fair?"
"More than fair! Thank you thank you Soobin!" You gushed. "I'll be right over, Beomgyu, and then we can plan for our weekend together!"
"Can't wait! I love you!"
"I love you too!"
"Wait!" Soobin added. "Before you go, the guys wanted to say something."
"We're really sorry about making the bet with you." Yeonjun said.
"We'll never do it again." Taehyun added.
"We didn't know how much talking to each other meant to you both. We're really sorry." Kai finished.
You couldn't help but give a little giggle. "Apology accepted. And never do it again. Or else Beomgyu and I won't stop talking for twenty four hours."
Yeonjun let out a whine. "Hey we said we're sorry!"
#TXT#TXT Fanfiction#TXT Oneshot#KPop#KPop Fanfiction#KPop Oneshot#MOA#Choi Beomgyu#Choi Beomgyu X Reader#Choi Beomgyu Fanfiction#Choi Beomgyu Oneshot#Choi Beomgyu Fluff#Beomgyu#Beomgyu X Reader#Beomgyu Fanfiction#Beomgyu Oneshot#Beomgyu Fluff#Oneshot#Fluff#Angst
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Solomon who’s lived for so long he can’t remember most of the things he’s done so most things feel new to him 🤝 Me who has the worst memory known to man that things I’ve already done also feel brand new
#we’ll experience ‘new’ things together wow!#i know this man is generally forgetful too so it makes me feel some better#like it’s bad#the amount of times i’ve watched game grumps play wheel of fortune and play along to it knowing i’ve solved the puzzles before but can’t#remember so whoo! look i just solved that one!#the most simple of things as well are forgotten to the whirlwind that is my mind#three things i have planned to do for the day… only remembers one#i’m very thinky but won’t remember anything#thanks depression 👍#sorry for the rambles in the tags 😗#obey me#obey me solomon#jo’s thoughts
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i'm about to throw hands with this yt poll.
this is the zelda version of that twitter butch post to me.
#the best zeldas arent even here!!! if og 'i was like 8 y/o when i SHATTERED the triforce and hid it ALONE in a monster infested land' zelda#and st 'the only one with a character arc u see play in real time & goes from i'll wait here to i will STAB malladus with my own 2 hands#and alone if i have to' zelda were here they'd obliterate the competition. maybe not in votes but just in terms of correctness#BUT EVEN IN THIS CASE. ur not voting for ms. 'i saw my family home and kingdom be systematically destroyed over the course of 7 years &#stood back up said no & changed my ENTIRE self to try to save everyone largely on my own for 7! years! as a child!! only to at the end of#it all be the only person who can truly empathise with the hero who had his childhood stolen from him and return it even though i will#never have mine again'????????????#or even ms. 'i was normal & happy & loved until i wasnt and i learnt i was the orchestrator of my own and everyone else's misery because im#not even myself & im so much bigger yet lesser than who i thought i was and if i cannot be divine then i will be less than worthless i will#be a blight who couldnt execute the plan i had tossed everyone into and they will have lived in my lie and died for nothing so i will be#divine even if that means sealing myself away for an eternity. even if i will never know happiness the way i did again'????????#i cant say anything about twipri. i barely remember her bc i watched that playthrough ages ago and she was barely in the game idk what ur#voting for#but botw???????? /BOTW/?????????????????#girl wasnt even the best princess in her own game and she only had one other competitor smh#(<-THAT'S A JOKE. THAT'S A JOKE. I AM JOKING.)#this whole thing is half a joke. i love botw zelda (dont look at me like that. i do) and i get why she's winning but like. come on. that's#way too big of a divide. how are oot and skysw losing that much. botw zelda's voice alone should have cost her half her votes#WKSHDKSDHKKA#anyway this whole thing is for funsies so dont be weird on my post ok <3? ive had a shit three days and if being fake mad at a silky video#game poll makes me laugh then that's fair ok? and if you're weird i have the license to explode you with my mind and curse your family for#3 generations ok <333?#freya talks loz
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#so im moving continents in 14 days and im starting to freak out#like im going to a country where i know no one and i speak the language very poorly#i still have to find a place to live because its impossible to find an apartment to rent that will only let me do a three month contract#except for like renting a room and dividing an apartment with another student#but the renters will only talk to me about it personally and obviously im still not in italy for that#and its going to be the first time im living on my own#and god i really want the freedom and to meet new people and to be able to hook up with new people#and its all becoming this nervousness that is not exactly anxiety#and besides all that in September i have to move again to france to go do my masters and im so pumped#but its like 7 months away and im trying to remember that but god i just keep imagining studying and living in paris with a group of friends#and yeah im just way to agitated to sleep#and also like i know that if things go wrong i can always come home#and i have like plan a through h before that#but its scary and a lot of it is out of my hands#and yeah thats enough for today sorry for the word vomit#mine
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Love Plug
🌙 starring. Johnny Suh x afab!Reader
🔮 preview. “The only things Johnny’s horny for are things that come in green: money and weed. He doesn’t date, babes, and you two are on a date.”
tw/cw. weed/drug use, shotgunning (kissing after John's taken a hit from a joint), reader likes wine, alcohol, plug!Johnny, unprotected sex, oral (f/m receiving) face riding, big dick john, 69-ing, size kink, grinding, multiple reader orgasms, fingering, pussy stretching, dirty talk, praise, ass groping, hand job, creampie/filling kink, cumming together, etc… I pet names: (hers) angel, sweet thing, good girl
👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 7.9k
🍭 aus. plug/drug dealer!Johnny, semi-strangers to lovers, Valentine's Day, etc…
☀️ mlist + an. I know this is slightly late, as it's Valentine's Day themed, but I hope ya'll like it anyway! big thank you to @sehunniepotwrites, my beta reader, my fellow John lover, my bestie- Love you girlie, thank you for helping me edit this to get it posted on time 💕
Being alone on Valentine’s Day is never fun. It would be one thing if you were with your girlfriends, but today, you’ll truly be alone. Everyone is busy, people are working, or with significant others- you feel like you’re the only person without plans, and it’s driving you completely insane.
Your apartment is spotless, you’d gone on a cleaning bender to distract yourself from today’s date, but as three o'clock rolls in, you find yourself sitting on your couch and staring at the ceiling.
There’d been a time in your life when boredom would make way for addictive traits. Dopamine-filled hobbies that you’ve since done your best to squash. But as three becomes four and you have nothing to satiate yourself - not even the pink bottle of wine in your fridge has been able to drown your loneliness - you begin to consider more drastic measures.
You’d never been a stoner, per se, but you’d gone with your cousin a few times to pick up from her run-of-the-mill dealer. If anything can help you relax and watch a movie, you think it might be some Grade A Indica.
Unknown number: Hi John, are you out today?
John: define out. Who is this
Unknown number: shit
Unknown number: my cousin gave me your number, I’ve picked up from you a few times
Unknown number: You probably don’t remember me but my name is y/n
John: I remember you
John: how much do you need?
Unknown number: I’m thinking $100 worth?
John: I’ll bring my shit. Text me your address and I can be over within the hour
Usually, when your cousin has gotten in contact with John, he comes to her apartment and the two of you go outside, filing into his truck. He has a duffle with jars full of weed, shatter, and the like. You give him money and he helps you decide what your night is going to look like.
When John calls you half an hour after you’ve texted him, you’re already almost at your door. “I’ll be down in a sec,” you tell him, searching for your keys.
“How about you buzz me up instead?” he suggests. “I’m outside the front door.”
You freeze for a moment. As far as you know, John’s never come up to your cousin’s apartment, and the idea of inviting the sexy local plug up into your one bedroom is sketchy… but at the same time, you’re feeling kind of desperate.
“Okay, type my apartment number into the keypad and I’ll let you in. The elevator will take you to my floor.”
You hang up, and a moment later your phone rings again. You press the buzz-up key and hold your breath.
You’re not sure if you’re scared of being alone with John because he’s a drug dealer or if you’re frightened of your own lack of self-control. John’s one of the sexiest men you’ve ever seen and this is Valentine’s Day. You’d been planning on maybe getting a little high, pulling out your vibrator, and having a good time with yourself… but if you could have a good time with him…
You give your head a shake, reaching for your bottle of wine. You pour the last bit of it into a cup, lifting it to your lips while you wait for the local plug to arrive at your door.
When he knocks, you practically jump, heart lurching in your chest. You scurry to your door, not wanting to make him wait- not wanting any of your neighbors to see the tall, sexy, tattooed man standing outside your home.
John greets you with a grin. “Special delivery,” he jokes, stepping past you and into the apartment and looking around. “You’ve got a nice place.”
“Thank you.”
You watch him head into the living space. He walks as if he’s been here before, as if he belongs here. The duffle makes a thumping sound when he nonchalantly sets it onto your small dining table, but John doesn’t immediately open it to show you the product like he does when you’ve bought from him before.
“Is it just me, or does it feel kind of sad in here?” John asks, turning to look at you.
“Hmm?”
“I just mean…” he gestures around, “spotless house, a pretty girl alone on Valentine’s Day… you haven’t bought from me in a while, sweet thing, I kind of thought you’d quit.”
“I did quit-” you stutter, “I mean… I was never a huge stoner or anything, so I wouldn’t say I quit-”
John grins while watching you search for an explanation. He leans back, palms flat on the dining table. The black v-neck he’s wearing shows off some of his chest piece and the tattoos on his neck are definitely a distraction as you try to formulate words.
“Look, all I’m saying is… I’d hate for you to lose your sobriety streak because you’re feeling lonely on Valentine’s Day.”
“I’m not exactly sober,” you scoff, reaching for your glass of wine.
“Is that a rosé?”
You look down at the liquid. “It’s a pink strawberry sparkling wine.”
“Sounds nice. Give me a taste.” He holds out a hand, and it’s clear that it’s more of a demand than a request, so with a sigh, you hand your cup to the local plug.
John swirls the glass, then he lifts it to his lips. He doesn’t sip, doesn’t take his time, he simply tilts his head back and downs the wine in two large gulps. When he’s done, he wipes his hand across his mouth, grinning mischievously. “Yummy.”
“That was the last of it,” you groan. “Now I have to hit the liquor store too.”
“Is it usual for you to get crossed, sweet thing? Weed and wine? You must really be feeling some type of way today.”
“So says the drug dealer working on Valentine’s Day.” You roll your eyes, annoyed that he’d downed your whole glass and isn’t cutting to the chase of your transaction.
“Ouch,” John laughs. “When did you get such a mouth on you?”
“Since you just drank an entire cup of wine in two seconds and started talking about my sobriety streak- are you going to sell me some weed or not?”
“For a girl with nowhere to be, you sound like you’re in a rush,” John muses. “You want to get me out of your home that badly, huh?”
“I mean, I would have preferred meeting you at your car,” you admit.
John simply shrugs. “And I wanted to see how dire your situation was. Clearly, it’s pretty fucked. Listen, we can still go down to my car if you want.”
“Will you sell me the weed if I go with you?”
“Nah, but I can take you out for a drink instead.”
His words hang heavy in the air, and your mind does mental gymnastics to make sense of the suggestion.
Is he asking you out?
Finally, you ask, “Aren’t you working?”
“The good thing about being your own boss is you can always say fuck it, I wanna go to a bar,” John points out. “So are you going to come with me and let me distract you better than weed would? Or are you going to mope around here with no wine, no weed, and no sexy plug to make you feel better?”
You definitely have a sexy plug or two hidden away under your bed that could make your day better- but you don’t tell John that. Instead, you let out a sigh. “I guess I have nothing better to do.”
“That’s the spirit, sweet thing, now let’s go on an adventure.”
The place he takes you to is a complete dive. It’s a dark ambiance, and as you settle onto a bar stool, you notice the stickiness of the counter in front of you. John, however, seems completely at home here. He doesn’t mind the alcohol-stained wood, leaning over it to speak to the bartender over the loud rock music that plays through the establishment. “Two shots of the regular,” he announces.
“You got it, Johnny,” she laughs, turning to grab a bottle of whiskey from one of the higher shelves.
“So I guess I don’t have to ask if you come here often,” you breathe.
“And I don’t have to ask if you’ve been here before. You stick out like a sore thumb, sweet thing. Relax a little.”
You let out a sigh. “Are we really going to do whiskey shooters?”
“I’m buying so I’m choosing,” John insists. “But if you want a cocktail or something, you can get that too, on me.”
So instead of taking your money today, he’s spending his money on you.
John is an enigma, and the confusion you feel has you more curious than ever.
“So how’d a guy like you get into your line of work?” you ask.
“He’s eighteen, gets stupid tattoos on his neck and hands, is rejected from other lines of work, and then discovers he has a talent for growing the best weed in town,” John responds. “Although, between you and me, I’m pretty good at growing orchids too.”
You had not pegged him as a plant guy. He’s always seemed so one-dimensional, and you realize now that your stereotype of him had been wrong. You’d never have thought John was the one actually growing the product he sells, and the idea of him nursing an orchid - a famously difficult flower - has your heart softening.
The bartender returns, setting two shots in front of you and John. “How’s your day going, Hyuna?” John asks, picking up a conversation with her.
“It’s going,” she sighs.
“Ouch, that doesn’t sound good,” John muses, pushing one of the shooters in front of you. “I thought you were seeing that new guy- the finance bro. Figured you’d be with him today.”
“I’m not sure he’s the commitment type.” Hyuna brushes her long dark hair over a shoulder, looking between you and John. “Besides, someone has to run this lonely hearts club here. You’re ruining the single vibe by bringing a date.”
“My bad for not introducing her, by the way,” John grins. His arm comes around the back of your chair, and he pulls you closer. “This is sweet thing, I’m saving her from making bad decisions today.”
“Yeah? And how are you doing that?” Hyuna laughs.
“By substituting one drug for another.” John picks up his shooter, turning to you. “To bad decisions.”
With a sigh, you grab your own shot, lifting it to clink against John’s. “To bad decisions,” you echo.
The whiskey is like fire as you shoot it, and you have to do your best not to sputter from how bad it tastes. You feel your face scrunch up involuntarily, and it earns laughs from Hyuna and John.
“I think we can all agree Johnny’s taste in alcohol is a bad decision,” Hyuna muses. “What can I get you, sweet thing?”
You order your drink of choice. John asks for three more shooters. When Hyuna sets them all down in front of you, John holds one out to her. “This one’s for you. I’m sorry it’s not working out with finance bro.”
Hyuna assesses the shot, then, with a groan, she grabs it. “I shouldn’t be doing this.”
“No one’s gonna care,” John insists. “And we both know your manager is in love with you. Just take the shot, babes.”
Hyuna rolls her eyes and downs the drink. She sets the glass down, her perfectly manicured black nails dragging along it momentarily. “You and your annoying tastes.”
“You’ll learn to love this,” John assures her. “You learned to love me, right?”
“After I got over how annoying you are.”
John only laughs. He downs another shot, bringing his total to three. Then he stands up abruptly. “Vape break,” he announces. “You girls better not have too much fun without me.”
You watch him leave, sipping on your cocktail.
“So how did you two meet?” Hyuna asks, half turning to remove some glasses from the washer so she can polish them while you chat.
You lean forward, whispering, “He’s literally my plug.”
“John’s everyone’s plug,” Hyuna laughs.
“How about you? He’s a regular?”
“Yeah, but I also dated his sister once upon a time,” Hyuna explains. “He was her annoying kid brother. I did my best to be nice to him but things didn’t end so well with her- then three years later he came in here, all tattooed and wreaking of weed- He recognized me right away, and he’s been coming in here ever since. Tips good too.”
You’d been wondering about the specificities of their relationship. Hyuna’s gorgeous, like- one of the prettiest bartenders you’ve ever seen. Her lean arms are covered in intricate tattoos, her nails are filed to points, her hair is perfect, her cheekbones are prominent and her lips are puffy like pillows-
Who wouldn’t have a crush on her?
“He’s an interesting guy,” you muse finally.
“Don’t let his tattoos fool you,” Hyuna says, meeting your eye. “He’s a sweetheart. He just likes to look all tough because of his job.”
You consider what she’s just said.
“So…” your throat feels a little dry. “Does he often come in here with girls?”
“Never. And especially not on Valentine’s Day.” Hyuna sets a cup down, leaning over the bar top to get a good look at you. “So tell me, sweet thing, what’s the end goal here?”
“Hmm?”
“Johnny might be an annoying plug, but like I said, he’s a good guy. I’m not dating his sister anymore, but he’s still like a kid brother to me. I don’t want to see him get hurt.” There’s a beat of silence. “He’s giving you heart eyes, and he let you choose your own drink. John doesn’t even let me choose my own drink once in a blue moon when we go out. He’s also never cared about what drugs I do, so why does he care so much about you? What makes you so special?”
“I…” you set your cocktail down. “I really can’t answer that.”
Hyuna cocks her head, pursing her lips. “Girl to girl, don’t be a bitch to him. I’m the one he’s going to come crying to if you reject him really hard. Let him down softly, if you have to.”
“Honestly, girl to girl, I don’t even know if he’s into me that way.”
“Sweet thing,” Hyun scoffs, “you must be blind as a bat. Don’t you see the way he’s looking at you?”
“I sort of thought he was just horny for Valentine’s Day.”
The bartender lets out a barking laugh. “The only things Johnny’s horny for are things that come in green: money and weed. He doesn’t date, babes, and you two are on a date.”
Your lips part to respond, but the door to the bar opens and John comes back inside. He lumbers over with a grin, taking the seat next to you. His arm slides around the back of your chair and he leans forward, looking between you and Hyuna. “So what did I miss?”
“Nothing important,” Hyuna lies.
“In that case, I think I’m going to order a-”
“You’re aware that at some point I’ll have to take your keys away, right?” Hyuna raises a brow at John. “I just gave you three shots, you have one sitting in front of you still-”
“We both know I’m a heavyweight,” John insists.
“Sure you are,” Hyuna rolls her eyes, “and your skin is naturally pink.”
You assess John. Hyuna must have good vision, because in the shitty lighting of the bar, you can hardly tell that John has definitely flushed from the alcohol. His cheeks are a rosy hue, and he looks as boyish as ever, a stark contradiction to the neck tattoos that are also beginning to blossom with color.
“How about this… two more shots,” John bargains, holding up three fingers.
Hyuna scoffs loudly.
“How about… two more shots,” John continues to hold three fingers, “And I’ll buy dessert so my body doesn’t turn into a complete whiskey barrel.”
“Two desserts and you have a deal,” Hyuna sighs.
“Two desserts it is.” John sits back in his chair. “What are you thinking, sweet thing? This place has a really good brownie, although, there's no weed in it.”
“We’ve also got apple pie with ice cream, tiramisu from the Italian place next door-” Hyuna does her best to be helpful, and you’re beginning to appreciate the tough love elder sister act thing she has going on.
You order the dessert that sounds most to your liking, and as you wait, John begins to ask about your cousin. “She’s a trooper,” he muses. “I sold her this massive thing of mushrooms last week and she texted me like two days ago asking for more.”
“She’s a heavy hitter for sure,” you agree.
“She told me once that she only does things like weed and shrooms because they come from the Earth,” John continues. “Never asks for links to cocaine or MDMA or anything- just the Earthy shit. She told me it’s cuz she’s a Taurus.”
You laugh. “That’s my cousin.”
“It was interesting meeting you for the first time,” John continues. “Your cousin gets into the car, knows exactly what strains of weed she wanted- pretty sure she was buying shatter. And there you are, asking for a blunt. Didn’t know if you wanted indica or sativa or a hybrid…” John shakes his head, as if it was the most baffling experience in the world. “In the end, I gave you some indica. Could tell you had a lot of anxiety and shit. I was kind of happy when you stopped buying, I’d hoped you’d found some other outlets or something.”
“I picked up wine,” you say, only half joking.
“Look, on our way back to your place to drop you off, I’ll stop and pick up a bottle for you to make up for what I drank earlier, deal?”
“Deal.”
John grins, and then you see his hand dipping down into his pocket. “Vape break.”
You watch John lumber outside again, and you release a deep sigh, meeting Hyuna’s eye. “Boys and their vapes.”
Dessert had helped mellow John out somewhat, and he’d actually been pretty law abiding while driving to the liquor store after. The two of you are now walking around the aisles, with John asking you all sorts of questions about your preferences when it comes to booze.
It feels shockingly domestic, especially when people go to move past you and John’s hand finds the small of your back, gently prompting you in front of him to make way for others to go by.
“What if I get us two bottles, and you let me come up for a movie,” John suggests as you reach for a replacement wine from earlier.
“What sort of movie?” you ask.
“Anything you want.”
“Are you sure I’m the only lonely one today?” you tease. “You’re being pretty clingy, John.”
“Anxious girls love a man that clings,” the plug insists. “Here, I’ll sweeten the pot for my sweet thing. Three bottles of wine, on me, and I’ll hand roll a blunt that will blow your socks off.”
“What happened to not wanting me to lose my no-weed streak?”
“I never said I’d let you smoke it, I just said I’d hand roll it and you’d be super impressed by my skills.”
You let out a laugh. It’s shocking how much your opinion of him has changed in a few short hours. You can’t believe how comfortable he’s making you feel.
“Fine. Three bottles,” you agree.
John grabs two more to join the one in your hand, and you head to the checkout. As you’re waiting in line, his phone rings, and he brings it to his ear.
“Hey, Mark…” John’s eyes meet yours. “I mean, I’m kind of busy… You really need it huh? Okay, give me a sec.” The plug presses his phone to his chest. “I’ve got a buddy who wants to link up. He lives pretty close by. It would take like… ten or fifteen minutes max. You good with that?”
“Yeah,” you agree. “Sounds okay.”
John lifts his phone back to his ear. “Okay, I’ll be there in ten minutes. You better be waiting outside though, I told you I’m busy.”
A short while later, you’re sitting in the front passenger’s seat of John’s truck as he pulls up in front of an apartment building. A man in a hoodie and baseball cap is standing there, and he quickly gets into the back, giving you an odd look.
“Mark, this is sweet thing. Sweet thing, this is Mark,” John says smoothly.
“Dude. I didn’t know you had a girlfriend.”
John ignores the comment. “How much are you spending today?”
“Five hundred.” Mark pulls a wad of bills out of his pocket.
“The usual?” John asks, reaching down for the duffle by your feet.
“Half shrooms, quarter indica flower, quarter butter or shatter, whatever you think is best today.”
“You got it.” John sets the duffle gently on your lap, rifling through it. He begins to pull things out, like a jar full of weed. As John sections it off into bags, Mark leans forward to get a better look at you.
“Sorry for interrupting your plans,” he says sheepishly.
“That’s okay,” you assure him.
“You guys up to anything fun?”
“Movie night,” John answers, tossing a baggie of weed back at his friend.
“Nice.” Mark nods to himself, waiting patiently.
Soon, John’s fulfilled the order. Mark hands the cash to the plug, and with one final nod and half smile, he gets out of the car.
“So…” John’s hand returns to the wheel. “Movie night?”
You’re two glasses of wine into the movie when John begins to roll a joint. He’s seated next to you on the couch, his thigh just touching yours as he bends over the coffee table. For a guy with such large hands, he’s more adept than you would have thought he’d be at the fine-tuned movements needed to make the perfect joint.
You’re more enthralled by him than the movie at this point, and you can’t help the way your body reacts when he lifts up his nearly finished product to swipe his tongue across the paper. He seals the joint masterfully before turning to meet your gaze. “I’m gonna pop onto your deck for a moment to smoke this.”
“I’ll join you,” you tell him immediately, pausing the movie to stand up.
You follow him outside, momentarily taken aback by how cold it’s gotten.
John pulls a lighter out of his pocket, and after one sharp flick, he begins to smoke the joint.
You like the way his jaw looks in the shadows of light from the deck lamp. He’s so handsome and regal-
The cloud of smoke he exhales is bigger than anything you’d ever be able to do yourself, and even that is sexy in some odd way.
“You’re really not going to give me a hit?” you ask.
“Nope.” John looks at you with a lazy expression and a half smile. “You’re the good girl, and I’m the bad guy, remember.”
“Bad guy,” you scoff.
“Why are you laughing, sweet thing? I’m a plug with tattoos. I’m bad.”
“You’re a softie.”
Now it’s his turn to laugh. “Says who?”
“Says me,” you insist.
“Yeah? And how do you figure?”
You think about it for a moment before responding. “You’ve taken care of me today… even though you didn’t have to.”
“Well, I wanted to.” John takes another puff, blowing it in your face. “It was pretty self-serving actually.”
You roll your eyes, waving away the smoke. “Sure it was, John.”
“Johnny,” he says quietly. “Call me Johnny.”
You stare at him, taking in his pretty face, the way his perfect lips wrap around the joint when he takes a puff. “Johnny… be for real. Why are you here?”
He lets out a laugh, but there’s little humor in it. “Isn’t it obvious?”
You shake your head, holding your breath while you wait for him to elaborate.
Johnny sighs. “Look. I’ve always liked you. I liked having you come around, needing an explanation about weed, and joints versus blunts, and indica versus sativa- it was like… it was like having a little bit of sunshine every once in a while. Then you stopped buying, and I was happy about that, but I also wasn’t. Hadn’t heard from you in months, didn’t have your number, couldn’t ask your cousin about you- you texted, and it’s Valentine’s Day, and I came up and saw you were alone- and… I don’t know… I just hate missed opportunities, and I couldn’t let this one pass me by.”
You’re really not sure what to say. His demeanor is usually kind of joking, he’s the type to always have a smile- but right now, he’s not smiling, not joking- he’s being dead serious.
“I’m happy I messaged you.” You feel stupid as the words leave your lips, but they bring back Johnny’s boyish grin.
“Yeah?”
“Uh huh,” you step closer, looking up at the tall plug. “Thanks for taking me out for drinks.”
“It would have been a crime to leave a sweet thing like you alone on Valentine’s Day, and trust me, I know all about crime.”
God, he’s such a goof. Why is he so endearing?
“Do you know about shotgunning?” you ask.
Johnny’s brows furrow for a second. “I’m shocked you know about shotgunning.”
“Do you wanna try it?”
The plug looks you up and down. “Is this a ploy to get at my joint?”
“Nuh uh,” you shake your head.
Johnny leans forward, meeting your eyes as his lips almost brush past your own. “Liar.”
He pulls away, slotting the joint in his mouth. He watches you while taking a long drag. Then he’s removing the joint and bending down again, meeting your gaze.
You lean forward, reaching to gently grab at his shoulders. Your heart is racing a million miles a minute in your chest, and you do your best to exhale, although it comes out shaky.
“Kiss me,” you whisper.
Johnny doesn’t have to be told twice, he closes the distance, pressing his lips to yours in an open-mouthed kiss. He exhales the smoke into your lungs and you do your best to breathe it in, but Johnny’s so much bigger than you, and you have to pull away before he’s completely finished his breath.
You sputter a little, feeling tears in your eyes. There’s a rush through your body, and you feel a little wobbly, but your grip on Johnny keeps you standing.
“John-” As soon as you’ve recovered, he’s kissing you again, but this time, it’s not for the purpose of shotgunning.
This time, he’s kissing you like he means it.
Like he needs it.
His large hand cups your cheek, and he releases a soft groan when you kiss him back, wrapping your arms tighter around his shoulders to pull him closer.
He tastes like weed and wine, and oddly enough it’s not a bad combination. As his tongue swipes past your lip and you open your mouth for him, you find yourself releasing a groan of pleasure.
Johnny returns the sound. In the periphery, you’re aware of him flicking the joint to the ground in favour of grabbing you with both hands. First, he cups your hips, pulling you flush against him, but after a moment, he reaches down to squeeze your ass too.
You go for a breather, and he takes the opportunity to kiss your throat, teasing his tongue against your skin and making you shiver in the cold evening air.
“You know…” you thread your fingers through his hair, “if you won’t give me drugs to use for happy chemicals, the least you could do is give me an orgasm.”
Johnny chuckles, pulling away to look at you with eyes that somehow sparkle. “I thought that was a given, sweet thing.”
“It better be,” you tease, cupping the back of his neck to bring his lips to yours again.
This time, when the kiss deepens and Johnny bends down to cup your ass, he lifts you off the ground, prompting you to wrap your legs around his hips. He pushes the door open behind you, taking you back inside.
You’re so lost in his lips you almost don’t realize he’s moved past your couch, and then he’s gently laying you onto your bed. “So how do you like it?” he asks, pulling away so he can tear his hoodie and shirt off, revealing a toned chest, and all the tattoos you’ve been itching to see.
“I like it any way you want to give it to me. Dealers choice.”
Johnny lets out a laugh. “You’re cute.”
“You’re cute,” you retort, hooking your fingers in his belt to draw him closer again.
Johnny presses a hand to the bed by your head, bending over you so he can kiss you. Your thighs wrap around him, pulling him fully on top of you while you’re locked in the hottest tongue battle of your life.
He’s just so big and sexy- the weight of him is enough to have you gasping, even though he’s still holding himself up with his elbow now propped into the bed.
His free hand finds your hip, slipping under your shirt to trace your skin. Each brush of his fingers builds the fire in the pit of your stomach, and as he slowly moves to grasp your breast, you find yourself almost dying with need for him.
You whimper lewdly against his lips, pushing your chest up toward his palm. With a bra in the way, you can’t get the proper stimulus against your nipple, and within moments of him massaging your tits, you begin to tear your shirt off, needing more.
Johnny helps you remove the fabric, tossing it to the side so his mouth can find your throat. “You’re so pretty,” he muses, reaching under you to undo the clasp of your bra. “Can I take this off?”
“Yeah, fuck- let's get naked.”
Johnny chuckles, pulling away to look down at you. “You sure you didn’t drink too much wine, sweet thing?”
“I’m mostly sober.”
“And that shotgunning didn’t make you needy?”
“You make me needy,” you insist, cupping his face. “You know how you said you were into me months ago? When we first met, I swear I thought you were the sexiest plug I’d ever seen.”
“Probably the only plug you’d ever seen,” Johnny points out with a grin.
“John,” you meet his gaze, “earlier, when you first got here, I wasn’t even sure if I should invite you up. I was worried I’d lose my self-control and jump you or something- trust me, the physical attraction has always been there, but… getting to know you today, I like who you are inside too… so, just fuck me, yeah?”
“Happy fucking Valentine’s Day to us lonely hearts, huh?”
Instead of answering, you kiss him again, tangling your fingers in his hair. Johnny groans when you tug gently, and he grinds his hips down against your own. You can feel the bulge of his cock as it drags against your core, and you’re pretty sure your panties are going to be ruined after this.
You can’t help yourself, you trace your hand down from his shoulders to his chest, then his abdomen- then you cup his cock, applying pressure that has him moaning again, thrusting against your hand for friction.
“I think I kind of want you in my mouth,” you admit breathlessly.
“That’s funny, I want you in mine.”
You think about it for a moment. “Sixty-nine?”
“Fuck, you’re a girl after my own heart, aren’t you, sweet thing?”
You can only grin, heart thundering in your chest as you push at Johnny’s shoulders, prompting him to roll onto his back.
“You take off your pants, and I’ll take off mine,” you suggest, getting off of him so you can work on your jeans.
Johnny doesn’t need to be told twice, and you watch the way his muscles ripple under his skin as he hurries to get naked.
He’d never actually taken off your bra, so you do that yourself. In moments, you’re both completely nude.
You stare at Johnny, taking in his cock.
He’s rock-hard and huge. It makes you excited, but you’re also not sure how well you’ll be able to take him. He must be at least seven or eight inches, and thick too, with a pretty mushroom tip that’s already leaking precum.
He grins at your reaction. “Think you can handle this, sweet thing?”
“Something tells me you’ll make it fit.”
“You got that right,” he laughs. “Now come sit on my face, wanna taste that pretty pussy.”
There’s something so suave about half-baked Johnny. He speaks with an almost melodic tone, it’s deep and sensual, and your pussy throbs just from the words coming out of his mouth.
As you crawl onto the bed, getting into position, his hands are careful against your form, helping you settle as you swing a thigh over his head, hovering your core over his mouth. Instead of waiting for you to sit down, Johnny lifts himself up a little, burying his face in your pussy before you can even touch his cock.
“Fuck-” you whimper, grabbing the base of his length as he pushes his tongue deep inside of you, licking the length of your slit.
You would love nothing more than to enjoy his mouth on you for hours- but you have your own job to do, and you’re already drooling. You bring his mushroom tip to your lips, gently licking at him.
Johnny’s large hands find your ass, and he squeezes you gently. “No teasing,” he mumbles, and the vibration against your clit has you squirming down on his face.
You take him into your mouth, sucking on the tip and twirling your tongue. Johnny immediately releases a groan before diving back into your pussy. He grabs your hips pulling you down tighter against his face.
It’s hard to know what to focus on. He feels so good with his mouth worshiping your pussy, but at the same time, you’re kind of obsessed with sucking his cock. He’s so huge, and you want to see how much you can take. You sink further onto his length, feeling your lips stretch at the intrusion-
God, he’s going to absolutely wreck your pussy. You can’t even fit half of him in your mouth before he’s hitting the back of your throat, and as you constrict around him, he releases lewd sounds of pleasure that have your core practically throbbing with need.
You pull off of him, if only to collect your saliva as lube so you can stroke what your mouth can’t reach. Taking a breath and steadying yourself, you grind gently against his tongue, moaning loudly. Then you take him past your lips again, getting lost in the act of simultaneous giving and receiving.
You’re lost in him, so lost that you don’t even know how long you’ve been in this position- but you can feel an orgasm bubbling in the pit of your stomach every time Johnny focuses on your clit.
You find yourself grinding harder against his face, and as the feeling builds, you can’t help but pull off of his cock, gasping and moaning. “Fuck, Johnny, I’m gonna-”
“Cum for me,” he groans, squeezing your ass as he kitten licks your clit. “Don’t hold back. Cum on my face, sweet thing, give me everything.”
You’re stroking his cock mindlessly, your muscles tensing as Johnny takes your clit into his mouth, sucking and licking-
“Oh my God-” you whimper, toes curling-
Your orgasm washes over you like a wave. It tingles through every inch of your being, throbbing out from your core. You and Johnny both release groans of satisfaction, and the knowledge that he’s enjoying having you cum on his face only makes your pussy clench tighter.
You’re practically riding his tongue now, chasing the last inklings of your high until you’re absolutely breathless.
Johnny presses one last kiss to your clit, and then he’s tapping your ass gently. “Gonna roll onto your back and let me fuck you like the good girl you are?”
“God, yes,” you groan. Your legs are shaky but you get off of Johnny’s face, collapsing next to him.
“Damn, sweet thing, that was a good one, huh?” Johnny laughs, sitting up and stroking your thigh.
“So good,” you whimper, still feeling the aftershocks.
Johnny gets between your legs, elbow pressing into the bed next to your head as he dips close to kiss your neck. “The way you were grinding against my face was so fucking hot.”
“Johnny-” You wrap your legs around him, feeling absolutely desperate for his cock.
“You’ll have to be a little patient for me, sweet thing,” Johnny sighs, one large hand cupping your breast and teasing past your nipple. “I’ve gotta stretch you out before you can take me.”
“What if I want you now?”
“Like I said,” his breath is hot against your throat, “you’ll have to be patient.”
“What if I want you to wreck me?”
Johnny laughs, pulling away to look at you. “You’re not as innocent as you look, are you, angel?”
You trace your fingers along the fine line, black and white, Japanese Oni mask tattoo that sits on his chest between his defined pectoral muscles. “Not when it comes to you.”
The plug simply grins at your words, his hand trailing down until it reaches your core. Two thick fingers prod at your opening, and you spread your legs even wider to accommodate him. He teasingly dips the first digit inside of you and you release a moan at how good it feels, but he’s quick to pull it out and circle your clit.
“You know what you said earlier?”
He lets out a humming sound.
“About not teasing?” you correct. “If you’re making me wait for you to prep me, you better not take your sweet time with it.”
“You’ll have to let me take my time with you next time then.”
“Next time?” You cock a brow.
“Yeah,” Johnny ghosts his lips over your own. “Next time.”
“Deal, now finger fuck me open then give me your cock.”
“Jesus, I love it when you talk dirty,” Johnny groans, dipping his finger into your core again. “Tell me more.”
“You just feel so fucking good,” you groan, swiveling your hips. “Even one finger- you’re just so big- Johnny, how are you so big?”
“You haven’t really experienced the Big yet,” John points out, adding a second digit that he scissors inside of you, stretching you out for him.
In response, you reach down and wrap your hand around his cock, pumping him gently. “I’m gonna feel you inside me for days after this.”
“Especially if you let me fuck you tomorrow, and the day after- you could feel me forever if you wanted to.”
“Forever, huh?” You let out a whimper as his digits work harder inside of you, crooking up to stroke your g spot with shocking precision.
“I’m still a little high, it’s making me… too honest.”
“I like honest,” you admit, cupping his face with your free hand, drawing his lips to yours. “I like you.”
“I like you too,” he whispers, kissing you deeper as he finger fucks you faster. “Okay, sweet thing, I think you’re just about ready for me- dripping all over my hand.”
“I’m ready,” you assure him, staring into those beautiful chocolate-brown eyes.
“Should I grab a condom?”
“Are you clean?”
“Yeah. Contrary to popular belief, I don’t fuck around that often. I’m not a one-night stand kind of guy.”
You giggle. “I’ve sort of noticed that.”
He kisses you again. “I can still grab a condom though.”
“No, I’m on birth control. I want you to fill me up with cock and cum until it’s all I can think about.”
“I can do that.” Johnny pulls his fingers out of your pussy, and before he can lick them clean, you grab his wrist and guide them to your own mouth. “Fuck, you’re so fucking hot, angel.”
You groan around his digits, sucking them clean. When you’re done, Johnny grabs your jaw, drawing your lips to his so he can taste you, his tongue gliding against your own.
You’ve still got his cock in your hand, and you pump him gently, adjusting against the blanket to get closer to him so you can guide his tip toward your core.
Johnny takes the hint, and he breaks the kiss, pressing his forehead against yours. His gaze dips to where your bodies meet, and he allows you most of the control as you drag his cock through your folds. “You really want this?”
“Just fuck me, John. Please don’t make me beg.”
He pushes forward, the tip of his cock sheathing in your tight core. “Holy shit,” Johnny groans.
“More.”
Johnny can only laugh, rubbing the tip of his nose against yours as he thrusts deeper into you. The two of you hold your breath as inch after inch stretches you open. You’re so wet, and it makes the process easier, but you can still feel Johnny everywhere.
You’re a wriggling, moaning mess by the time he’s fully inside of you.
Johnny’s breath is hot against your skin, and his chest is rising and falling with effort, his bicep bulging next to your head. “You good?”
“Yeah,” you nod, swallowing thickly.
“Can I-”
“Rail me. Break my back. Murder my pussy.”
Johnny laughs, pressing his lips to yours to shut you up as he begins to move his hips, pulling out only to thrust back in. You can feel your insides practically quivering with each drag of his length against your walls. He’s so big, and you’re stretched to the brink- the vein along the underside of his cock is an added stimulus that has your toes curling already.
You’ll never be the same after this.
No one’s cock is ever going to compare and you just know it.
Johnny’s lips can’t muffle the sounds of pleasure still escaping you, and you grab at his broad shoulders, tracing your nails against his skin.
It’s so easy to get lost in Johnny. He makes you feel safe, and the pleasure he’s giving you has time flying by like nothing else. Johnny’s mouth goes to your throat, teasing the spot that has you moaning even louder.
“Can I flip you over? Wanna see that ass.”
“Do anything you want with me,” you tell him, and you mean it.
With one last kiss, Johnny pulls out of you. His large hands find your hips. He manhandles you over, pulling your ass back and up so he can push into you again.
“Fuck,” you groan, grabbing at the bed sheets. “You’re even deeper like this-”
Each time his front meets your ass, the slapping sound turns you on even more. He’s practically rearranging your guts like this, and you don’t mind it one bit.
“Do you wanna rub your clit for me, sweet thing?” Johnny asks. “You’re so fucking tight around me, and I’m so sensitive when I smoke- not sure I’ll be able to last long, and I want you to cum with me. Wanna feel this pretty pussy all clenched and dripping-”
Every word has your body tingling, and you bring your fingers to your clit, rubbing in quick circles.
“Johnny-” you whimper.
“That’s it, angel. You feel so fucking good- so fucking good for me.” He grabs fistfuls of your ass, squeezing in a way that has you crying out. “Who’s my good girl?”
“Me!”
“Who’s taking this cock so fucking good?”
“Me!”
“Fuck-” Johnny lets go of your ass, wrapping a hand around your throat. He helps lift you up until your back is curved, shoulders pressed to his chest. His lips find your neck, hand dipping down to grasp your breast roughly, pinching your nipple.
“I’m gonna-”
“I know, sweet thing, me too-” He’s fucking into you like a god damned fuck machine, and each circle of your fingers on your clit has you closer and closer to the edge- “Fuck, okay, I’m there- shit, yeah, I’m there- you’re gonna cum with me, right? Gonna cum on my cock and let me fill you up?”
All you can do is whimper, your body fulfilling his ask before your brain can even fully process it. Your core clamps down hard on his cock, and Johnny releases a deep groan in your ear. He holds you close, squeezing you as his thrusts get erratic.
You can feel him cumming deep inside of you, and you’ve never felt this cock drunk in your life.
Nothing matters except Johnny and his huge cock filling you up to the brink. His lips are hot on your throat, and he fucks you through your highs, your pussy fluttering around him as wave upon wave of pleasure rocks through you.
As you both finish, he pushes himself fully inside of you. You can feel his cock throbbing, and his groans are music to your ears.
“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he whispers, letting out a soft laugh as he nuzzles against your cheek.
“Happy fucking Valentine’s Day,” you giggle, grabbing the hand on your breast and lifting it to your lips so you can kiss his palm.
He holds you for a few more moments, then he gently lowers you to the bed, cock still inside of you. “I’m gonna pull out,” he says, smoothing a hand over your ass. “You don’t mind if I watch it drip out of you for a second, right?”
“I’m just laying here,” you smile against the quilt.
Even so, it feels like a loss as he takes his cock out of your aching pussy. His hands are on your ass and he spreads your cheeks. “Fuck, sweet thing. This is the prettiest view in the whole fucking world.”
When you’d texted Johnny earlier for a link-up, you’d never expected this. Never expected to see this softer side of him.
You’re so fucking happy you reached out- he provided more than what you’d asked for.
“I busted a fat load in you, angel,” Johnny laughs, his thumb moving to rub your clit, causing you to whine and push back against him. “How about we go for a shower. I can wash you up, eat you out some more-”
“Damn, Johnny, are you pussy drunk?”
“Uh huh.” He leans over you, kissing up your spine and to your shoulder. “Valentine’s Day isn’t over yet, we should make the most out of it, right?”
You get the sneaking suspicion that you’re going to be making the most out of it with Johnny for many days to come, Valentine’s Day be damned. God. Your cousin is going to have a freak when she hears about this.
☀️ mlist + an. Thank you so much for reading! I know it's late by three days but this John still has me in the Valentine's Day spirit
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🔮 preview. “You’ll like this. You always like this. You love cumming on my cock. But you don’t get my cum unless I get yours, that’s the deal, right?”
cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, grinding on his thigh, hand job, oral (m receiving) blow job, he spits in y/n’s mouth, spit as lube, masturbation, y/n touches herself while blowing Johnny, fingering masturbation, y/n rides his cock, multiple reader orgasms, praise, gentle degradation, dirty talk, breast worship/tit sucking, etc… I petnames. (hers) angel, sweet thing, good girl.
👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.6k I teaser wc. 250
🌙 starring. Johnny x afab!Reader
bonus
You’ve gotten accustomed to your plug boyfriend. You’d only been dating for a month when he’d officially asked you to be his, but you know the two of you were exclusive to each other since that very first night you’d fucked.
Being with John is pretty easy- but his odd work schedule can be a bit of a pain. He never knows how busy he’s going to be, so you can plan date nights, but sometimes he has to push it back a few hours to do unexpected late-night deliveries.
If you’d been cock drunk for him after the first time he’d fucked you, you’re even more dependent on him now.
No drug in the world could fill you up and give you the pleasure that Johnny’s cock does, and you’ve become a little impatient when you have to wait for him to complete deliveries… although, you’d never bring it up with him
You know being a plug is his job. It’s what pays the bills and allows him to dote on you in ways you’d scarcely been able to imagine before meeting him.
Even so, you can feel your skin crawling, pussy practically aching with anticipation as he completes the last handful of orders for the night. He’d initially wanted to be over at your place by seven, but it’s nearly ten now, and you’re three hours behind on the fuck marathon you’d planned.
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@gotshinct - @subhyuck - @fraechan - @learnthisfeeling
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✘ nct taglist
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#johnny suh#johnny suh smut#nct#nct smut#nct johnny#johnny nct#nct johnny smut#johnny nct smut#nct 127#nct 127 smut#johnny suh x reader
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heavy and sticky
<seonghwa x fem! Reader>
Being sensitive is one thing, being easily turned on is one thing, being perverted is one thing. But being completely enamoured with you with all three combined? It’s just hell for Seonghwa.
Genre/warnings: smut, pwp, Seonghwa is perverted and desperate, cumming/orgasms with and without physical contact, overstimulation, masturbation, pussy eating, praise kink, cream pie, I hope this is filthy enough
A/n: I’m doing this for Seonghwa. Happy Valentine’s Day my darlings 💖
Tag list: @bro-atz @diamond-3 @mcarebearsstuff @choisansplushie @pre1ttyies @hwallazia @songmingisthighs @yeosangiess @sanhwajjong @interweab @mylovelymito
Seonghwa has a problem.
Technically three, but it stemmed from one. So he likes to think of it as just one, which just so happens to be you.
He doesn’t know when it even started, but he thinks he remembers how at least. He knows this ridiculous crush on you fully bloomed when he saw you in a sundress that hiked up a little too high when your friend group went on a holiday, and he thinks how ridiculous it is when he lets himself grow closer and closer to you.
And now all he thinks about is how your skin would feel against his and it’d get him hard way too fucking easily. It doesn’t help that you adore being around him—it doesn’t help with his case at all. You stick to him like glue.
You don’t know that he’s so sensitive whenever you lean your head on his shoulder, whether intentional or not, because the moment the smell of your shampoo hits his senses, he blanks him out, only filled with you, and then he has growing problem beneath his underwear. From then on, any thought he has of you just spirals into a frenzy for Seonghwa.
At this point a crush is an understatement. He’s probably head over fucking heels for you.
What really is the cherry on the fucking icing is when he wakes from a wet dream of this fuck ass vivid dream of you and your poor pussy being completely ruined by his cock, your moans so fucking real he swears that you were really there letting him fuck you stupid, cum warm and thick in his pants when he stirs from his slumber, moans in between pants when more white spurts out of his wet and pathetic cockhead. He’s so fucked. It would have been fine if he didn’t have plans. But the fact that he’s meeting you for coffee in a few hours just makes the whole situation all the more ridiculous.
Now he’s seated across you, listening to your voice as if he didn’t cum all over himself just hours before the both of you meet. But thank the gods the remnants of a dream don’t last for long. Seonghwa likes to believe that he’s holding up well, and he is, taking sips of his iced drink, listening intently. He thinks you’re so pretty when you blink and break away your eye contact before your gaze flutters back to him, bright and cheerful as you run your mouth. Seonghwa wonders to himself how should he keep you smiling and glowing like that for him.
And then suddenly the thought of you under him, completely undone and messed up—eyes rolled back every time he fits his cock right inside you—has him blinking and sitting upright. Fuck. He adjusts his pants, obviously it doesn’t help, not when any point of friction is a contender to making him just cum right there and then. It takes Seonghwa almost all of his willpower to hold himself back and not palm his erection.
Seonghwa tries his best to slip back into the conversation the both of you were having, but he can barely pay attention, his gaze is flickering from your face to your body, to your lips and there he goes, his jaw clenched and his body begins to heat up. He doesn’t know how he’s able to pull through the coffee date with you, but the moment he slams the car door and starts the engine, he already knows who’s etched in his mind while he lets himself cum when he reaches home.
It’s a vicious cycle—the more he meets you, the more he craves for you, and then he asks you out to meet you even more. Seonghwa can’t help it—you’re like dopamine to him.
His wet dreams merge into his fantasies—after meeting you, he would reach home, pent up and so fucking horny that he can’t think—only filled with filthy thoughts of you. The one that fucks him over the most so far? Definitely the one where he almost loses composure when he watches you stretch when you were working out with him at the gym. He imagines himself tearing a hole in the tights you wear that hugs your ass so perfectly, no panties, just your bare, wet cunt exposed to the cool air before he slides himself in, listening to you choke on your moans while you cry about him stretching you open, and dirtying the mats below the both of you, while he’s completely lost in the warmth of your pussy. Needless to say, the combination of a pumping heart rate and the rush of endorphins results in a thick, veiny erection in his shorts, which he could barely hide if it wasn’t for the fact that he wears shorts on the looser end. By the time he reached the bathroom of his apartment, cum would leak past the opening of his shorts and he’d be panting, overstimulating himself until he softens.
The extent of the catastrophe? Which was single handedly the worst and best thing that ever happened. It had gone to the extent that the sound of your voice would drive him over the edge. Seonghwa’s mind is hazy with his legs open, fucking his hand. Until his phone screen suddenly lights up.
With your caller ID flashing across the screen.
Seonghwa knows he shouldn’t fucking do this.
But he can’t stop. The thought of hearing your voice just over the phone while he fucks his hand overrides any ounce of rationale he has, especially when he’s completely clouded in pleasure.
So he slides to answer.
“Hello? Hwa?”
Fuck. The way your voice just right at his ears. Seonghwa shivers slightly at thought of you seated before him, watching him with his shirt ridden up all the way past his perky tits while he bucks his hips into his hand.
“H-hey. What’s up, y/n?”
He’a edging himself, his strokes going slower, trying to compose himself, so he doesn’t give himself away, sweat beading down his temple and down his abs, his thighs twitching at every stroke he gives himself when your voice floods his ear.
“Seonghwa!” Your voice echoes through the loudspeaker, and Seonghwa bites back a groan at the way you’re calling his name, precum oozes out of the silt of his cockhead.
“Are you busy right now?” You ask.
He definitely is. “No I’m-hngh-not.” Fuck. He’s going breathless.
“You sure? You sound funny Seonghwa” you respond, wondering why his voice is suddenly an octave lower.
“Yeah. Yeah. I’m good. Fuck”, he heaves, failing at controlling his ragged breathing. It just feels so good hearing you call his name while he keeps leaking. He wonders how long he can keep himself sane while talking to you.
But you already caught wind of it—the breathlessness, the soft whines that escapes in between the words he says, the way his voice goes deeper. You’re not dumb. He just sucks at trying to hide it all.
And you’re also craving for him just as much as he is for you.
“Do you wanna open the door so I can help you out with that?”
Seonghwa’s phone clatters onto the floor, his eyes widen in shock. Shit. You found out.
And you’re outside his apartment. He wonders how he should approach this—ignoring you completely, blowing you off, making an excuse or just let you in? But the thought of him being caught by you only rouses him further, and he knows how much of a fucking pervert that makes him. He swallows hard as he pulls up his boxers, picking up his phone before he reaches for the door, his heart pounding in his ears.
There you are, standing right before him with the most poker face, before your fingers snakes around his wrist, shutting the main door as you lead him to his bedroom.
Seonghwa lands on his bed with you on top of him, a coy smile spreading across your cheek as you tilt his chin up with your finger, admiring the way he licks his plump lips in anticipation, his eyes wide and so entranced. His boxers are drenched to the point where you’re able to see the shape of his cockhead.
You make him watch you drop each piece of clothing onto the floor, agonisingly slow, almost like a strip tease and Seonghwa is eating up every single part of it until you’re just towering over him with you lingerie on. You sit on his lap, dangerously close to his erection.
“I was just about to ask you if you wanted to hang out since I was in the area. But I guess you had other plans, hmm?” You ask, tugging against the waistband of his underwear, the mild friction of fabric against his sensitive cock pulling a gasp out of the male.
You tug, and he lets you, his cock springing out as his boxers are strewn somewhere.
“Do you want me to touch you?” You ask, letting your hands rest on his thighs, giving him slow rubs, watching his cock twitch with every squeeze.
“Please. Touch me. Fuck me”, he says, albeit breathlessly, his fingers fisting against his bedsheets. Shame doesn’t exist in his vocabulary now.
He’s so fucking sensitive right now that the moment your hands start pumping his length, he already feels like he’s about to blow his load, but he forces himself to not to, even though strings of his sanity continue to snap one by one. Seonghwa’s cock is heavy against his abdomen, the previous edging session making his cock more sensitive than before, completely soaked and sticky. He swears you don’t know how long he’s been craving for this, needing this.
You’re soaked enough as it is, and the way Seonghwa is looking at you, so wet and desperate, his eyes so glazed out. You think he looks pretty when he’s on the verge of tears.
Maybe you should start taking advantage of it from now on.
Your fingers rest under his chin. “How long have you been touching yourself thinking of me?” You ask, his cock resting on your ass. He feels like he’s about to break.
“A while”, he mutters.
“Made you wait, didn’t I?”
Surprisingly he shakes his head, eyes still glued to yours. Even after all the perverse thoughts he flooded his mind with of you, he thinks it was worth every second to wait—he just didn’t expect it to come down to this so soon. You cup his jaw with your hands this time, leaning in to press your lips against his, sending his mind into a completely spiral at the taste of you. Seonghwa can’t get enough of the way you’re swirling your tongue against his, swiping his bottom lip, giving his bottom lip gentle bites and he chases after the sensation like starved person, his hand pressing against the back of your neck while the other is soft against your jaw. It’s passionate and so hungry for that few short minutes before you pull away, watching Seonghwa swallow hard as the sticky fluids from his cock stain your ass. Well? Not like you minded.
You pull your panties to the side, lifting your hips over his swollen cock, slowly sinking down, inch by inch, watching Seonghwa’s abdomen flex, while Seonghwa watches you with glazed eyes.
“Fuck. Oh fuckkkkk. So good. You’re so fucking warm”, he whimpers. Seonghwa swears he came just a little when he’s fully seated in you. His face contorts as he sinks into the pillows beneath him, trying to control his breathing as he shuts his eyes.
He’s so adorable, you think to yourself, watching him completely melt when he’s inside you. His hands are spread out on your thighs, then becoming a grip when you start moving, slowly creating a rhythm to bounce off his cock, the wet sounds of skin slapping growing louder by the seconds.
“That’s it, baby. You’re doing so well for me”, you sigh, your mind plunged in the depths of pleasure as you bounce on his cock, watching Seonghwa with his thick furrowed eyebrows before he slowly opens them, his eyes rolling back.
He feels like he’s in heaven. Seonghwa thinks like it can’t get any better than this. Your moans are the only thing he hears, your cunt swallowing him is the only thing he feels.
Then the feeling hits—the feeling of wanting to burst. He stares up at you with a pleading gaze before he says, “gonna cum. Oh my fuck.” His head is spinning with stars, vision clouded with a dizzy white before he stills in you, holding your thighs down as he fills your cunt with spurts of warm cum. Seonghwa’s moans are pitched and they sound so fucking pornographic—it makes you want to overstimulate him over and over till he completely breaks. He’s breathless, moans turning into whines when you don’t lift yourself off him just yet, and squeezing his cock.
The base of his cock is slowly growing thick and sticky with cream and cum, but Seonghwa is craving for more. He is insatiable. His arms wrap around you, and in one swift motion, you’re suddenly below him. He pretty much folds you into half—well, mostly bending your legs and letting him stare at your sopping pussy like a fucking pervert as he pulls out and slides in again, watching the way his cum seeps out of you on top of forming thick strings of cum. Gods, you swear Seonghwa is such a perfect pervert.
“Let me eat you out, please. Want you to cum on my face, y/n”, he pleads, even though he’s already lowering himself down to your cunt. “I’ll make sure you feel so fucking good. Please.”
You giggle, tangling your fingers in Seonghwa’s hair, stroking his soft locks.
“If you do, you can cum in me as many times as you want.”
Your reply alone sends the poor man into the fucking heavens, having him pull your completely cum soiled underwear off your hips before latching his tongue against your soft and creamy folds.
Fuck. Seonghwa thinks he found his heaven.
Repeated flicks with this tongue against your clit pulls loud moans out of you, the way his tongue rubs against it over and over again, his eyes staring up at you like an angel’s.
Soon enough, your fingers are tugging against his hair while you drive him deeper into your cunt. Seonghwa can’t help but rut against the bedsheets to your moans, his eyes shutting from time to time from the friction of his cock and the sound of your voice as you call out his name whenever he hits a sweet spot.
“Hwa, I’m cumming. Oh, you’re such a good boy”, you mutter, shifting your hips as you fuck against his wet tongue, and Seonghwa’s hands are holding your hips down, your clit pulsing erratically on his tongue when your orgasm floods your senses. He watches the way you’re squirming—the way your head falls back, your legs spread open, the way you’re calling out, “Seonghwa, Seonghwa, Seonghwa!” when you’re rapidly falling apart on his tongue. The grip on your hips tighten, soft gasps and pants leave his lips as red flushes against his cheeks once more.
Your thighs clamp against his head as slick and cream dirties the sheets beneath you, the sensitivity ramping up in levels once your high wears off. Nonetheless his tongue is still lapping up your cum like he’s dehydrated, and your thighs relax to let him off. He looks so fucking pussydrunk that it makes your head spin.
Seonghwa sits up, albeit shakily, and you see why. His cum sits in a puddle where he was lying down on the bedsheets, some trickling down his thighs. You can’t help but smile, crawling towards him to close the distance between the both of you, stopping right before him to kiss his jaw.
“Tell me all your fantasies about me, Hwa. Let’s make them all come true”, you hum calmly, rubbing his inner thighs gently, watching his eyes form hearts as more thick white spurts out of his red cockhead.
You know he still has rounds to go.
#ateez#ateez scenarios#ateez fanfic#ateez imagines#ateez x reader#ateez smut#smut#ateez fic#kpop smut#y/n x seonghwa#seonghwa ateez#seonghwa smut#ateez seonghwa#park seonghwa#seonghwa
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When I Kissed the Teacher
Pairing: Kim Mingyu x fem!reader
Genre: fluff, humor
Summary: Mr. Kim has a crush, to his students that much is clear. It's also clear that you like him too. What happens when a group of meddlesome ten year olds decide to play cupid for their two favorite teachers?
Warnings: science teacher mingyu, grammar teacher reader, meddling students, crushes, flirting, lots of candy and coffee
Length: ~5.2k
Note: it's here! thank you to @gyuwoncheol and @gyuswhore for beta reading and to my lovely @tomodachiii for fact checking my knowledge of primary school lol
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Turning from the white board, Mingyu faces the room full of weary children. Mondays are hard. Early mornings are hard. Learning the difference between reptiles and mammals first thing on Monday morning is downright torture. But it’s nothing a little bribery (read: candy) can't fix.
"Alright class, today we're learning about animals! Who remembers what a mammal is?"
Mingyu barely finishes his sentence before a sharp knock interrupts.
“Mr. Kim,” you seethe from the doorway.
Mingyu turns around immediately, eyes wide in fear at your tone. “Yes?”
“Can I speak with you? In the hallway?”
The class of ten year olds “ooooh” as their teacher trails after you like a kicked puppy. If they weren't awake before they sure are now. He shoots a silencing look back before dipping out the door where you wait, foot tapping impatiently.
“Would you like to explain where all my printer paper went?”
Mingyu tries to play dumb. “I don’t know?”
“Oh really?" You blink. "Because I found the box in the workroom and guess what was on the printer? More of your worksheets for your class!”
“How do you know they were for my class?”
You don’t answer, in favor of shoving the animal themed coloring sheets into his chest harshly.
“Listen, anyone could have…” He trails off under your withering glare.
“If you need paper, ask!”
Mingyu burns under the reprimand. “Oh, like you asked to use my paints last month?”
“That was an accident!" you argue, eyes wide. "And I replaced them.”
“Alright, then I’ll replace the paper I took.”
“Fine.”
“Fine.”
With a curt nod, you turn to leave; unaware of the blushing cheeks and heart eyes following your retreating form. But the gaggle of elementary students waiting for Mingyu's return see them clear as day; their fits of shrill giggles and whispers falling on deaf ears as he shakes off the stars clouding his mind.
Mr. Kim, their goofy science teacher, has a crush. And like children are wont to do, they hatch a scheme to help him out.
—
“Alright. Do we remember the difference between fragments and sentences?”
The classroom ripples with tiny voices shouting “yes” with varying degrees of confidence. Their last quiz grades are proof they haven’t quite grasped the subject yet but that’s why you’re planning for an intensive review with them today.
“Awesome! So our warm up today should be a piece of cake. I’ll help with the first one so let's all look at the boa—”
A knock at the door cuts you off. Mingyu stands in the threshold, looking positively mischievous.
“Sorry to interrupt, Ms. y/l/n. But can I speak with you in the hall?”
Forcing a smile, you respond. “Certainly. Class, why don’t you all work with your desk partner on the worksheet and when I come back we’ll go over the answers?”
They break into groups, chattering about everything but the work you’ve assigned; most notably the way Mr. Kim beams as you follow him outside. However, once you’ve crossed beyond the border of the brightly decorated room, twenty pairs of ears strain to hear why Mr. Kim interrupted their morning lesson.
“What's this about?” you ask.
Mingyu smiles, eyes shifting to the floor. “Here's the paper I owed you.”
“You’re kidding.”
Three hefty boxes are stacked next to your door. It’s far more paper than Mingyu used for his color sheets, and more than you’d probably need for the rest of the semester.
“I thought you could use extra since you’re too stingy to share.”
“I’m not stingy!” You scoff.
Mingyu simply flashes another self-satisfied smile before heaving a box into his arms and carrying it into your classroom. He could certainly carry all three boxes at once; anytime there were desks or anything else remotely heavy to be moved, Mingyu did so with ease. But the kids don’t think anything of the way he so obviously drags out the torture.
The kids watch Mr. Kim weave through the maze of tables towards the back of the room.
“Lia, can you open the door for me please?”
The little girl jumps from her desk and bolts for the supply closet, braids bouncy with each step.
“In here okay?” Mingyu asks.
Blinking from your stupor, you turn back to your desk as you answer. “Yeah, it’s…whatever.”
Your class stopped their work to focus on the unfolding drama between their two favorite teachers. They don’t know why you can’t seem to stand their science teacher, and it’s anyone’s guess why Mr. Kim has decided to interrupt their grammar lesson for something so silly. But it’s clear that whenever you two meet an argument is clear to follow. And in the guidebook of elementary school, if you like a girl, you always argue with them.
So enthralled in your silent battle of wits with the peppy man, you miss the two girls plotting in the corner.
Hana turns to her friends with breakneck speed. “Did you see the way Mr. Kim smiled at her?”
“He’s so in love,” Arin sighs dreamily.
“And Miss y/l/n is blushing! We should help them.”
Their whispers are cut off when you clap. “Alright! Back to work!”
Mingyu lingers by the front until you forcibly shoo him away, huffing at the permanent smile stretched across his lips even when the door slams in his face.
“Meet at the tree during recess.”
The two girls nod and return to their worksheets.
A new week comes with new challenges. Today’s is the universe’s determination to make your life as difficult as possible.
Your alarm didn’t go off, your shoddy dryer left you with damp clothes, and your car battery decided a short strike would be a great way to start the freezing morning. There was barely time to wash your face with cold tap water let alone put on makeup or style your hair. To top it all off, the green lunchbox with leftovers from your favorite restaurant sits on the shelf of your fridge which means the crumbled granola bar at the bottom of your purse will finally see the light of day.
Flicking on the lights, you rush to prepare for the day. By the grace of god your first period is planning time so no students witness your near breakdown from the absolute shit storm of the morning. Not much is to be done since you already organized everything you needed Friday afternoon but the tense events of the day leave you feeling off. Not even a cup of coffee with the creamer you reserve for days like these helps the overwhelming unease rippling in the back of your throat.
Your allotted private time washes by and before you know it, a gaggle of students filters into your room, giddy on holiday spirit and sugar. The first five minutes of class are spent reminding them their butts belong in chairs at their own stations, that the warmup is for them to complete on their own, and if they aren’t feeling well enough to do classwork they need to go to the nurse.
Twenty minutes into the lesson and the worksheet for their quiz on Friday finally manages to capture their attention. A few students struggle but most are sailing through. Its the same material as last week just with a new puzzle for them to complete once they have all the correct answers.
“Alright, who can tell me what word fits for number six?” you ask.
The attentiveness you’ve sweated to cultivate all morning dissolves when a volunteer knocks to distribute candy-grams.
“Delivery!” a young woman sings as she enters, dressed in red from head to toe with heart shaped sunglasses and a sparkly headband. Her wicker basket flows with candy bars wrapped with shiny ribbon and cardstock penned with confessions.
The shrill symphony of oohs and ahhs as the kids receive pieces of candy raises the vein on your temple.
“And for Ms. y/l/n!” the young woman sing-songs, heart headband bouncing as she approaches your desk.
The cardstock reads one of the cheesy messages the school provides for the Valentine cards they sell as a yearly fundraiser.
‘I like you a choco-lot! - your secret admirer’
You throw it into a drawer in your desk, oblivious to the crestfallen faces of two little girls watching with rapt attention.
“I don’t think she likes chocolate,” Arin whispers.
“No. Remember during Halloween? She said her favorite candy is Twix. She gave Gabi an extra point on the spelling test when she brought in her halloween candy and gave them to her.”
“Well maybe she’s mad because it wasn’t a Twix!”
“Maybe. But Mr. Kim didn’t react to the note on his desk this morning either,” Hana huffs. “But he was late so maybe he didn’t see it.”
Your second attempt to put class back on track falls flat. Instead of group review, kids come up to your desk one by one to check their answers while you nurse your headache until the bell dismisses everyone to their next destination. Another crop of students flood the seats, emotions running high from who did and didn’t receive candy in their last class. Two students end up arguing about who knows what and then proceed to break into frustrated tears.
You bite your tongue to stop from doing the same and put on one of the movies you reserve for days like these.
When Mingyu walks into your room after school ends and all the kids are dismissed for pick up, you give him a look that sends him turning around and exiting the way he came without a word.
Tuesday brings a better attitude. Mostly because you get to take all of your class to the library for silent reading. But the homemade stirfry sitting in your lunch box in the teacher’s lounge helps too.
Your second period kids spread out through the room, some sprawled across the worn rugs on their bellies while others curl up in the much coveted bean bags; a few choose to hide between the imposing bookshelves, crowded on all sides by the smell of old paper.
With an overly sweetened latte sitting in one hand, and a new novel in the other, you perch at the long table near the librarian's desk to ‘supervise.’
“How did you manage to get a copy of The Gate? I couldn’t even get the pre-order before it sold out.” Elise, the librarian, asks.
You smile into your coffee cup before responding. “Eh, I know a guy.”
“You do? I thought you didn’t date?”
“I don’t.” You nod. “But it doesn’t mean I don’t have connections.”
“Well whoever your ‘connection’ is, send them my way when you're done with him.”
You pretend to ponder before answering, “I’ll think about it.”
Snapping your book shut, you rise to gather the kids to return back to class. It takes several minutes as a few refuse to join the line until their current chapter is finished and Kai pulls out the puppy dog eyes, begging to stay all day to finish his book.
You corral them out the door with promises of more reading time on Friday if they behave well the rest of the week. Some roll their eyes but most nod enthusiastically at the opportunity to skip on their weekly quiz.
Unlocking the door, you unpack your things and find a basket of Valentine’s on your desk to be passed out. Almost all the kids receive at least one, some find two or even three heart shaped sugar cookies on their desk. Your heart squeezes when some of the students decide to divy up their cookies and gift them to the students who didn’t receive a note.
The last cookie at the bottom of the basket has a note with your name on it and a message in the same swirly script as yesterday’s.
We go together like milk and cookies. - your secret admirer
As far as cheesy Valentine’s go, you’ve seen worse. But free snacks are free snacks and the confection tastes great dipped in your coffee.
Your fourth period class focuses on their worksheets, silently deciphering the reading and ticking of questions. You promised whatever group finished first with the most right answers gets a special Valentine treat; full sized candies and extra credit on Friday.
Whatever it takes to keep them focused while you work through grading everything for your other classes.
You don’t notice the man waiting at the door until one of your kids greet their science teacher; a ripple of tiny ‘Hi, Mr. Kim!’s following.
“Sorry to interrupt,” Mingyu announces from the door. “But, ugh, the volunteer accidentally gave me this.”
“Oh! Thanks Min—Mr. Kim.”
You take the can of orange soda from his hand and skim the note.
I have a ‘crush’ on you. - your secret admirer
None of the students can read the note from their seats but you and Mr. Kim look equally bashful.
“What are you guys working on? Mingyu asks, hoping to diffuse the tension.
A cacophony of voice race to explain their assignment. Mingyu pretends to understand, smiling at their enthusiasm and grabbing a worksheet for himself.
He plants himself in one of the tiny plastic chairs next to your desk meant for ten year olds rather than a grown man of his size. It’s comical the way his knees brush his chest and any small move across the slippery seat threatens to land him on the floor.
Reviewing the sheet, Mingyu announces, “Alright, how about if you guys finish your work before me, we can have a pizza party in my class on Friday?”
More screams bounce off the walls.
“You guys can’t finish if you’re talking to Mr. Kim,” you remind them.
The room descends into a cozy calm; the sound of pencils on paper, your keyboard clicks, and the soft jazz from the computer speakers blending together.
You don’t look up to grab the answer key from the corner of the desk, Mingyu huffing from his seat at being caught.
“No cheating,” you smirk under your breath.
“Creative strategy,” he argues.
Instead of answering you shake your head and continue to focus on your own tasks.
Ten minutes and twenty emails later, two groups of students rise and approach your desk at the same time.
“We finished first!”
“No, we did!”
“Guys,” you interrupt them. “I’ll grade them both and whoever has more right wins. Besides, Mr. Kim owes you a pizza party anyway.”
The entire class cheers at the news while Mingyu playfully pouts. Maybe if he hadn’t given up on his worksheet to snoop through the basket full of snacks on your bookshelf, he wouldn’t be eating his own words.
The second group of students to approach your desk ends up victorious. You mark down their candy orders to pick up on your weekly grocery shopping trip on Thursday night before sending them to back up their belongings so you can all head to the cafeteria.
“What’d you bring for lunch?” Mingyu asks as he walks with you to the teachers lounge to retrieve your lunch boxes.
“Pasta salad.”
“Wanna trade?”
“What’d you bring?” you ask, handing him the black grocery bag you know carries his lunch.
“Pasta salad.”
You roll your eyes and kick the fridge shut.
—
After lunch you have another free period. The printing room is empty so you take advantage and make enough copies for the rest of the week. Perhaps Mingyu wasn’t wrong to bring you three boxes of paper.
Lugging the stack in hand, you turn down that hall only to find a familiar face standing guard outside your classroom.
“Arin? Why are you in the hallway? You should be in class.”
“I was just…going to the bathroom!”
“Really? Because there's a bathroom right outside Mrs. Lee’s classroom if I remember correctly.”
“It was gross!”
Considering Mrs. Lee’s classroom sits on the main hallway and intersects with two other grades, it probably looked more akin to a battlefield than a restroom at this time of day.
“Okay…but hurry back. And I’m gonna let Mrs. Lee know what took you so long so she isn’t worried.”
You side step around her but she moves right into your path. And then again. And again.
“Arin, what are you doing?”
“Sorry, Ms. y/l/n. I don’t feel good. Can you walk me to the nurse?”
Crouching to her height, you rest the back of your hand against her forehead. Arin never admits she doesn’t feel well even when she’s tinged green and hacking up a lung. It’s the perfect admission to keep you from peering past the threshold of your classroom and blowing the entire operation.
Until a loud crash and high pitched scream breaks the silence of the hallway.
You jump back up.“What the—”
“Wait!” Arin shouts, throwing her arms and legs wide to block your path like a three foot tall ‘X’.
“Arin, what is going on?”
“Mr. Kim said animals make themselves bigger to be scarier,” Arin says, tiny face scowling.
“And why are you trying to scare me?”
Another bang echoes out the classroom forcing you to pick the little girl up by her armpits and carry her inside with you. She slips from your hold as you stare with a wide mouth at the scene. A desk is pulled up to the board allowing Hana to balance atop it as she scribbles across the chalkboard.
Wil you be my Valintin? - Mr. K
“Hana! What are you doing?”
“Arin!” Hana huffs indignantly.
Arin opens her mouth to respond but the look on your face silences both girls. You help Hana down from the desktop before crossing your arms in front of you and taking a deep breath.
“Sit. Now.”
They trudge to the seats next to your desk; heads hung low, tears brimming in their eyes. Neither has been on the receiving end of such a reprimand before; they’re usually your best behaved students.
You allow them to stew in silence as you right the two chairs Hana knocked over. She doesn’t look injured which is a relief but your nerves are shot from the perplexing situation. Hana and Arin can be troublemakers but they’ve never done anything like this before.
Once you're certain the urge to yell at them is quelled you approach your desk and take a seat. You watch them expectantly. Arin chances a glance up and swiftly looks back to her lap while Hana focuses on the picture at the edge of your desk, blinking away tears.
“Girls,” you sigh. “What were you doing in here?”
“Ms. y/l/n,” Arin blubbers.
Presenting the tissue box, you wait several moments while they both dab their eyes and blow their noses before speaking again.
“We just thought…” Hana starts, glancing at the other girl.
“Thought what?”
“Mr. Kim’s in love with you and we wanted to help!”
“I see.” You nod. “Did Mr. Kim tell you that?”
They look at each other before shaking their heads ‘no.’
Your temple throbs from the situation. A measured breath through your nose sends the girls into a frenzy.
“We can tell!”
“You’re perfect for eachother!”
“And did Mr. Kim ask you to sneak into my classroom while I wasn’t here?”
“No ma’am,” they mumble in unison.
It dawns on you that the two girls have been behind all the gifts you’ve received this week.“Are you two behind all the Valentine’s I’ve gotten?”
“We were just trying to help!” cries Arin.
Moving to crouch in front of them, you wait until they both look up at you.
“It’s very sweet what you were trying to do and I’m sorry I yelled at you. But you can’t sneak out of class. What if something happened and you got hurt climbing the table?”
“I’m sorry,.” Hana says.
“Me too.”
You pass them more tissues to wipe their noses.
“How about we get you two back to class?”
“But what about Mr. Kim?”
“Yeah! He needs to know how you feel.”
“That’s between Mr. Kim and I. Understand? Those are grown up things.”
The repulsion painting their faces forces you to bite back a snort. Instead you offer your hands, pinkies extended towards them both.
“How ‘bout this? I promise to talk to Mr. Kim if you two promise no more meddling. Okay?”
All three of you share a smile as you intertwine their pinkies with your own.
“Now,” you say whilst jumping to your feet. “You are supposed to be in Mrs. Lee’s class. And you are supposed to be at the library.”
Escorting them both back to where they belong, they can’t help but giggle when you pass Mr. Kim’s room and he waves. The question is clear on his face but you shrug your shoulders.
You’ll explain everything later.
You smile knowingly at the corner of the classroom where two little cupids sit as the volunteer brings you a lollipop with a note reading ‘I’m a sucker for you.’
Part of you feels guilty they pooled their own money together to supply you and the teacher next door with treats all week in an effort to play matchmaker. But another part can’t help but laugh. And when you get the chance to tell Mingyu what they’ve planned you’ll no doubt laugh harder.
But because the universe somehow knows you lied to your students the day prior you find your reckoning in the cafeteria.
It was Mingyu’s fault. Or at least that’s what you argue. You barely made it three steps inside the room before the large man bulldozes you; sending his lunch and your own down your fronts in a palette of greens and browns.
His eyes widen in horror as a slice of tomato peels off your shirt and flops to the floor. “I am so sorry!”
“Seriously?” you choke.
The entire school watches with baited breath. Students and teachers alike watch with abject horror as you skirt around the taller man and flee with shaking shoulders and your chin dipped into your chest. Mingyu gapes like a fish as you run by, frozen in place. As hundreds of eyes settle on him, he realizes they all saw how he drenched you in salad and coffee.
Mrs. Lee dismisses him with a nod, silently agreeing to watch his class so he can trapeze out to his car and find something suitable to wear.
—
Mingyu watches the game of kickball unfold across the field, keeping an eye on the rowdier students as they pick teams. But even from a distance he recognizes one face is notably absent.
He finds Kai slumped on a bench at the far corner of the playground using a stick to draw lines in the dirt at his feet.
“Hey, buddy. You feeling okay?” Mingyu asks.
Kai never misses a game of kickball. Even when his arm was in a cast at the beginning of the year, he insisted he only needed one good arm to play defense and neither to play offense. Kai’s mom simply laughed at Mingyu’s concerned email and said her son was exactly like his dad and there was no stopping him if he was set on something.
So to have the little curly haired boy isolated on the far edge of the field is serious cause for concern.
Kai looks up briefly at Mingyu’s approach before returning to his mud art. “Mr. Kim, have you ever liked someone?”
“Liked someone?” Mingyu drops onto the bench next to him.
“Like,” the little boy inhales trying to explain himself. “Like a girl?”
Mingyu snuffs out his chuckle at Kai’s innocent question. “Yeah, why do you ask? Do you like a girl?”
“I–My friend does!”
“Okay,” Mingyu nods.
“And he doesn’t know how to tell her.”
“Well that's tough.”
“How’d you tell the girl you liked?”
“Well,” Mingyu drops to a whisper. “Once upon a time, I had a crush on this girl. And she was the prettiest girl I ever saw. Smart and funny too.”
“Did she run fast?”
The question confuses Mingyu at first but then he remembers he’s talking to a ten year old and the rules of attraction hinge on who gets the swing the highest and jumps off.
“She ran really fast,” he nods. “And she made me so nervous I couldn’t talk to her. My palms got all sweaty and my face turned red.”
“That happens to m—I mean my friend!”
“And it feels like there's a bunch of frogs jumping around your stomach?”
“Yeah,” Kai nods. “So how’d you tell her?”
“Well one day, I finally decided to introduce myself. Walked right up to her, opened my mouth and…poof.”
“Poof?”
“Poof.” Mingyu hangs his head. “I forgot everything I was gonna say to her.”
“What happened after that?”
“She waited a few minutes and then said ‘okay, I’ll meet you at 6:30 for dinner.’”
“She knew you liked her?”
Mingyu nods gravely before imparting his most sage wisdom. “Girls are very smart, Kai.”
“So I should try and tell her I like her?”
“Your friend should at least try,” Mingyu shrugs.
Kai blushes, having been clearly caught. “But what if she doesn’t like him back?”
“That’s okay. It just wasn’t meant to be.”
“Thanks, Mr. Kim. You’re the best!”
“You’re welcome, buddy.” Mingyu gives him a fist bump before shooing him back towards his friends. “Now go play kickball, the boys need your help.”
Kai runs off but a new presence fills the vacant seat on the bench.
“I thought we agreed to keep our romantic life a secret at work.”
Mingyu smiles sheepishly before turning to look at you. “Oh, you heard that?”
“Yeah, I heard,” you smile. “They already think you have a crush on me.”
“Smart kids.” He says, enjoying the way the worn sage button up swallows your figure.
Mingyu loves when you wear his clothes, he told you this morning when you stole his favorite jacket. Which is why you both took almost twenty minutes to gain your composure after he spilled an entire tray of food on you.
Mingyu swears he didn’t do it on purpose. How could he have known you were coming through the door at that very moment? But he’d do it again if it meant seeing you in one of the spare shirts he keeps in the truck again. Even if it meant he’d also sustain minor coffee burns.
“They think I have a crush on you too.”
You watch the way he traces your collar bone, catching the twinkle of the diamond pendant resting at the hollow of your throat; his birthstone. It was the first piece of jewelry he bought you when you started dating almost a decade ago.
You hadn’t taken it off since the day he gave it to you with shaky hands and red ears.
“Do you?” He asks.
“Do I, what?”
“Have a crush on me?”
“Oh Gyu,” you coo at him. “I have the fattest crush on you.”
“Damn right you do.”
Sitting outside with an entire audience of other teachers and students doesn’t allow either of you to fall into the familiar comfort of adorning kisses or airtight hugs. But Mingyu’s pinky brushing yours in the ample space between your figures is enough for now.
Friday is Valentine’s day which means all the kids don red and pink outfits and prepare for a day of candy filled fun. You spent all morning helping the art teacher set up paint stations. Why she cashed in on the long owed favor with such a simple task was beyond you but the monotony is a nice change from the chaos you’ve experienced all week. When second period rolls around, you shuffle back to your classroom; welcomed by the line of students waiting outside your locked door.
“I swear! I saw Mr. Kim and Ms. y/l/n at the grocery store last night.”
“Hana, Ms. y/l/n said its grown up business. Maybe you just saw people that look like them,” Arin shrugs. “And I don’t wanna get in trouble again.”
“It had to be them!”
They quiet down as they walk past your figure, smiling like cherubs when you greet them.
Students file in one by one, shrill voices echoing from excitement. Most cheer about their pizza party with Mr. Kim later that afternoon, a few squeals about the set of Valentine’s their parents sent with them to handout.
Your ears catch a few other snippets of conversation as you wait for the stragglers to make it by.
“Oh my gosh those are so pretty!”
“Those look like the flowers my mommy likes!”
Curiosity gets the better of you, forcing you to step into the room and see what the kids are talking about.
An explosion of pink camellias resting on your desk. Huge blossoms with pale pink petals spill over the sides of the vase, slips of greenery sprinkled throughout. Approaching your desk, the floral aroma fills your nose. The blooms feel like soft velvet under the pad of your finger tracing the largest one in the center of the arrangement.
Who on earth?
As if on cue a mop of black hair peaks in from the hall. Mingyu eyes the bouquet and the pleased look on your face before allowing his own to break into his infamous smile.
“Just wanted to make sure they got here safe,” he calls.
You whip your head up, eyes wide and mouth open at the can of worms he just spilled.
“What?” Mingyu asks innocently. “Can’t a man buy his fiancee flowers?”
He disappears with a wink but his laughter at the chaos he’s stirred up can be heard miles away.
“MISS Y/L/N YOU’RE MARRIED?” Mark screams.
Another shrill voice answers, “Fiancee means they’re almost married, idiot!”
“You lied to us!” Arin and Hana chorus.
Dropping into your chair, you hide your burning face in your hands. Coincidentally it also hides your shy grin from the hoard of ten year olds jumping in their seats at the news.Mingyu is in so much trouble.
A few weeks before the new school year starts, a group of nearly eleven year olds crowd into the pews of the massive church at the center of town. Stained glass reflects patterns over the marble floors, casting them in a rainbow of colors.
Some sit on their hands to calm the adrenaline pumping through their tiny veins. Others rock back and forth in an effort to watch Mr. Kim strut down the aisle in a fancy looking suit.
But all of them gasp when you turn the corner.
You look like a real life princess in your wedding dress, floating towards their science teacher waiting at the altar with tears and a smile matching your own.
When you and Mr. Kim kiss, the girls squeal and the boys blush.
Several rows ahead sits a small group of older students, who’ve long graduated elementary school and are headed to college in a few days. They exchange satisfied smiles and pat themselves on the back for getting their favorite fourth grade teachers together all those years ago.
Maybe now your new classes won’t try playing Cupid like they do every year given Mr. Kim finally married their favorite teacher.
-
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toji’s reaction to seeing you in short shorts/booty shorts around the house 🏃♀️
PAYBACK
a/n: sorry anon i didnt exactly like how this turned out but i still hope u enjoy !!!
wc: 2.1k
warnings: sorta crack-ish in the beginning, pleasure dom toji, soft dom toji, praise, toji is obsessed w/ you, kitchen sex, clothed sex, oral (f! receiving) / cunnilingus, pussy slaps! (both w/ his hand and d!ck), fingering, clit stimulation, tit + ass fondling, unprotected sex, p → v penetration, creampie / breeding kink, brief aftercare, n*sfw under the cut
there were things that toji was good at holding back on, like telling you that you might’ve added a bit more garlic than butter for a garlic spread. he doesn’t tell you how your body heat warms him up fast and he desperately wants to pull away from you, but your slumbering state is so peaceful he would rather burn.
and then sometimes he wishes he would just bite the bullet (even if you were his baby), because you were currently getting back at him for giving you the silent treatment. if he could do it over a trivial thing, so could you. toji’s probably still mad about your guess in charades, where you couldn’t understand that he was telling you he was riding a tricycle and not a bicycle, that mere difference of wheels causing a major roadblock in your relationship.
it was by far the stupidest thing you’ve argued about (you assume he had a bad day, too), and you were willing to talk things out and tell him he could’ve just put up three fingers instead of pointing aggressively to an invisible tricycle, but he opts to glare at you and sigh instead. you can’t believe he’s getting this worked up over a game of charades too, so you tease him the only other way you know how to.
it hadn’t been that long since you talked, but you figured you’ll need to start on dinner soon, getting a sick idea in your head when you see the new booty shorts you had ordered laying on your bed. you definitely thought it would be better for another day, but life is short and toji is not, so you pull them on and they feel divine, remembering the content smile on your face when your boyfriend had offered to pay for them — a reward well received when you check out your ass in the full-length mirror and the way it shaped your lower half.
the evening carries on as usual, but you can feel his stare once you emerge from your room in one of his shirts and he thinks you aren’t wearing any pants until you’re pulling out saucepans and reaching for the spices in the top cupboard that his shirt rides up and he can see your plump fucking ass; he chokes on his water.
with your back turned, you stifle a little grin and continue with your chores as the shorts ride up with each walk from living room to kitchen, but it’s all under the guise of cleaning and setting the table, wiping aimlessly, too, at the coffee table in front of the TV where toji sat, even if you weren’t eating there. you feel eyes on you when you return to the kitchen and continue your torture, cooking up a storm and bending over while looking into the fridge, while pulling out the plates for dinner, while—
“those the shorts i bought you?” bingo. although you’re not quite ready to talk to him yet, you succumb with a curt nod. toji obviously isn’t satisfied with your answer, footsteps approaching to lean on the kitchen island as his eyes keep his gaze locked at your butt.
“gonna ignore me for the whole day, hm?” it seemed like toji had other plans, his larger hand trailing up your thighs to your ass before curling around your waist. he’s pressing his front against you, hips grinding slightly even though you know he wants to do anything but that. you’re not wearing underwear, either, so the sensation of his bulge against your cunt is a lovely feeling and it takes everything in you not to moan.
you have to bring yourself back to reality to turn off the stove that feels so far away, hands clutching onto the countertops as you chase the familiar drag of your sex against his but toji only tuts, landing a slap onto your ass. “dinner first, baby.”
bastard. you roll your eyes and groan, but you didn’t seem to catch his innuendo, so you’re yelping when he suddenly flips you around and tugs at your shorts, pulling it off of a leg so there’s space for him. while your hands are pushing at his shoulders, desperately wanting to uphold your pride of ignoring him, you know the cool air against your cunt and the sight of fushiguro toji on his knees is only making you wetter.
and toji just smirks, looking up at you like his revered deity and you jump again at his cold hands prying your thighs apart, bringing a leg to rest on his shoulder. toji looks in love with your pussy, seeing your hole clench around nothing as your eyes beg for him to do something, anything, but he only continues to tease, running his thumbs along your folds and just missing your clit.
“use your words, sweetheart.”
“need…” toji raises an eyebrow, cheek leaning casually against your thigh and he grins as he sees you fight your own pride like you don’t want his tongue and fingers on you. give it a little more and you’ll break, because through the silence of your shared home and your heavy breathing, the tension is so infuriating that you’re willing to push away that stupid game of charades to the back of your brain.
you hate how needy you sound, though. “i need your tongue… p-please, baby,” you plead and drag out the name, and in the stuffiness of the kitchen, you think toji, one of the strongest men you know, looks the fucking best when he’s smiling up at you with a wanton want behind his eyes. “wan’ you, toji, wan’ you to eat me out!”
“oh… of course, when you beg like that,” toji plants a kiss to your puffy clit and the simple gesture makes you whine, “how could i say no to my pretty baby?”
toji delves in like he’s never eaten before, licking a thick stripe up your pussy to collect your slick before lapping at your clit, garnering a loud moan that reverberates throughout the house. you wish you never called him out on his terrible acting skills from the start, one hand keeping your balance while the other tugs on his black hair. harder and harder.
toji groans at your impatience as he feels you spread your legs further, moans and whimpers filling his ears. one hand sneaks under his shirt and squeezes at your tits, the other hugging you closer to him, fondling your ass at the same time. your boyfriend takes in everything, from your pleasured expression to your contracting tummy and he can feel himself harden below him.
but you come first, you always come first and he makes it clear when he halts for a second and you whine at the lack of contact. “eyes here, baby.” toji calls out to you, slapping your cunt and you jolt at the feeling, although it’s not entirely unpleasant; your eyes flit down to him. the other grins again and slaps your pussy a few more times, the wetness of your sex making loud, obscene noises, “tell me how good i’m making you feel, yeah?”
you mewl as you nod as his fingers prod at your hole and you swear the sudden intrusion has your stomach turning. you’re clamping down on his fingers which sets a pace, buried right up to the ends of his fingers as his palm collects your slick. your lover continues to abuse your clit, alternating between flicking his tongue and sucking.
“o-ooh, shit! they’re so deep, tojiii!” the moans you let out were almost pornographic, breathless and needy with how good he was giving it to you, the familiar feeling of an orgasm creeping up on you. his fingers keep a constant pace, stretching you out so well and the roughness of them feel so contrasting on your body, but you love it. “toji, i— fuck, i’m c-close!”
“taste so good, doll. c’mon, cum on my tongue.” the older man is ruined too, the heat of the kitchen getting to him with how the strands of his hair stick to his forehead, but more than that, he’s grinding into thin air, wanting any sort of relief for his hardening cock. “you taste like heaven, oh shit...”
“t-toji— i’m! oh, fuck, fuck fuck—!” it’s not long before you’re unravelling in his hold, legs trembling and incoherent babbles spilling from your lips as toji licks up your release leaving from your dripping, tight hole, sure to lap up every last drop. his emerald eyes hold yours as he cleans you up, body still twitching and shivering from the mind-blowing orgasm before he stands and removes his fingers, holding it to your lips.
“suck.” and you do, keeping eye contact as you wrap your tongue around him like you would to his cock, free hand already making pulling down his sweatpants that has a little pre-cum leaking through it.
“up you go, darling,” toji mumbles, plopping you onto the counter with ease, and because he’s so tall, his pelvis perfectly lines up with yours. it’s probably also because you envisioned this happening, though, that you made sure to pick out a kitchen countertop with the proper height. he slaps the tip of his cock on your glistening pussy, an angry red from being neglected, groaning as your arousal provides lube with no problem.
“just so you know, i’m buying you more of those stupid shorts,” toji confesses before he pushes past your entrance, tip already stretching you so well that you laugh and moan at the same time, arms flying to encircle his neck to feel him closer. “f-fuck, baby… so tight, just for me…”
“’s all yours, toji,” you whimper softly, an unspoken look in your eyes that just says that i’m yours for you to use, “this pussy’s all y-yours— mmf—”
by then, he’s bottomed out, taking his time in filling you up inch by inch and your submission is reason enough for him to start rocking into you, hips faltering just a little by how warm and snug you felt that it has toji catching his breath. but he doesn’t hold back once you’re comfortable, bullying his cock into you at a faster pace into your pussy that sucks him in so well with each thrust.
“your tight, little pussy’s g’na make me cum faster than usual, pretty,” toji says with a breathless laugh, mouth tasting the sweat that lines your body as he kisses your neck.
“that’s— okay,” you choke out, pulling him away from the embrace and the sight that greets you takes your breath away. dark, lustful eyes trained on you and a stunning smile to match; you see your lover’s eyes soften ever so slightly when he hits that sweet spot in you, “i’ll take all— fuck- all of your cum, okay?”
and toji almost cums at that moment but he knows if he looks at you any longer and how your tongue lols out at how his cock fits so well in you, he just might; so he just settles for frantic nods, and nudges your head down to look at how his length moves in and out of you. your slick and his pre-cum is leaking all over the counter, squelching noises filling the kitchen. “look at how well you take me. good fuckin’ girl is what you are.”
you giggle at the praise because you know toji means every word, but your moans take over soon. there’s the twist of your core, that edging feeling that toji’s drawing out of you so well — it doesn’t help how he brings a hand to your clit, rubbing circles that you’re close, so close.
“toji, toji, toji—” chanting out his name is all you can do when you’re fucked silly, spilling over unexpectedly as you clamp down hard on his cock. toji groans when he feels you spasm over his length, hips not stopping even after you ride out your orgasm. you’re cumming so much that his stomach is wet, too, the pap! pap! pap! of his pelvis against your pussy sounding so filthy.
your babbles converge into three words, mumbling out i love yous to the older man and soon toji cums as well, swallowing your tearful confessions with a sloppy kiss and he’s releasing deep inside you. he can feel your mewls through the kiss, no doubt loving how his thick cum is spilling into you. his seed is hot, leaking from his tip in ropes and ropes until you’re filled to the brim and you sigh, content with how it feels in you.
your lazed hums make him chuckle, kissing you again and softer this time. “my baby, my sweet baby,” toji makes sure to wipe your eyes after, and mutters apologies against your forehead for the dinner turning cold, but when he sees you and your languid smile, he knows you don’t mind.
thirsts and drabble requests are open!
#anon#asks#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen gojo#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk headcanons#jjk fluff#jjk toji#toji x reader#toji smut#toji imagine#toji fushiguro#fushiguro toji x reader#fushiguro toji smut#toji fushiguro smut#toji hcs#jjk drabbles#jjk fanfic#jujutsu kaisen toji#toji zenin
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Breakfast Time
My son’s stuck in a time loop again.
He thinks I don’t know, of course. He’s never told me that this happens to him (or that he can do this, possibly; I’m not sure which it is.) Maybe I’m a bad mother, if I haven’t proven myself worthy of that trust. But there is only so many times that one can watch their son trudge through a day with bored impatience, anticipating everything you say just a little too quickly and showing no surprise to even the most surprising event, and then come downstairs the next day disoriented but rejuvenated and with a new zest for life and a tendency to get blindsided by even the most predictable things, before one makes the obvious connection.
I don’t think he’s lived through this day too many times yet, because he’s not frustrated by my good morning joke but not surprised by the monster attack being announced on the news. He eats his toast makes polite conversation that sounds just a little too rote until his sister comes down, and he puts his toast down in that distinctive way that make her eyes widen in sudden realisation, a reaction I never would have noticed if I wasn’t looking for it. He told her about three time loops ago, I think, although it might’ve been earlier and I just never noticed the signal until then. I make sure to keep the smile on my face as I push a plate of toast towards her.
The thing on the news is some kind of flying beast, and my son’s eyes don’t leave the TV screen. I expect that calm, solid determination that I usually see in his expression on days like this, but instead he watches it only with a wary sort of calculation. I suppress a sigh – it looks like I won’t be remembering today, then.
The pair exchange glances and look to me. “Hey, mum, I figured we should go to school early. We’ve both got these big tests coming up and – ”
“Yes, fine, whatever. Go.” I know what you’re thinking – obviously they’re off to do something dangerous, and obviously they’re far too young for this sort of thing, and obviously I shouldn’t enable this, and I’m a terrible parent for letting them run off to maybe get themselves killed someday. But I put this to you:
How, exactly, do you expect me to stop them?
As my son heads for the door, though, I almost stop him. I consider, not for the first time, just telling him what I know, what I’ve figured out, and asking him to explain everything, to say where he’s going and what he plans to do about that thing and if his sister is involved and if they at least have help, to put my mind at ease. I don’t, though. Because, logically… I must have done that before, right? In at least one of the countless days that never happened. I must have gotten worried or angry or just fed up with this ridiculous charade and told him that he wasn’t as good at hiding as he thought he was. He has to know that I know, right? And yet, he still chooses to let it play out like this.
Or, perhaps, he told me once. That must have happened, right? I must have been there to help, to patch his wounds and dry his tears and listen to him confess his fears or his worries or his regrets about this big responsibility, about whatever he’s doing out there. He must have told me, at some point, at least once, in one of those nonexistent days. And afterwards, he chose not to tell the me that stuck around. Meaning that I must have given him some reason to keep this secret.
What did I do to him? What did I say to him? How bad a confidante must I have been, that he chooses instead to keep me in the dark?
They leave, they ‘go to school early’, and I start on the dishes. As I wash my daughter’s breakfast crumbs away, the plate slips from my fingers and shatters on the tiles at my feet. I sigh, and turn to get a broom.
Then stop. Pick up all the other dirty plates. And shatter them, one by one, on the tiles.
Then I leave the mess behind me, pull a full tub of rocky road ice cream out of the freezer, and resolve to spend the day eating junk and watching youtube videos. After all, it’s not like it’s going to matter tomorrow, right?
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The Gang React to You Breaking Your Ankle
Lucifer
"This was bound to happen sooner or later."
I mean, really, with all the stunts you play with his brothers and that sorcerer, it's more surprising that you didn't break anything before now. Thank goodness your room is on the ground floor. Now, here is a schedule of where you need to be and when, along with the brother who is your designated companion at all times to ensure you don't get stuck somewhere or fall over and break something else. This is a rotating position so stop fighting all of you!
Mammon
"Holy shit, humans break easy, huh?"
Assuming for the moment that Mammon didn't accidentally get your ankle broken by pulling some stupid stunt for Devilgram clout and involving you in it, he'll be extra careful with you for a little bit. People keep jostling you in the hall! Don't they realize you're basically made of glass and paper?! He'll clear the halls for you to hobble by with your crutches. Yep, you're earning all sorts of new friends.
Leviathan
"E-sports are the best activity when you're injured."
What a convenient excuse to drag you to his room more often than usual for anime marathons and all-night gaming sessions. Like Mammon, he's a little uneasy about this revelation about just how delicate you are, but nobody gets injured playing video games. He's basically protecting you from your next inevitable accident.
Satan
"Stop trying to do so much on your own."
Satan acts extremely annoyed when he sees you trying to hop somewhere without your crutches or lifting anything more than fifteen pounds unaided. Of course, he's just worried about you and expressing that in the most practical way he can. He repeatedly reminds you of advice on improving your recovery rate he found in medical books and the blogs of reputable physical therapists (he always checks into their credentials).
Asmodeus
"Poor thing! Let me spoil you!"
And that's basically what he does, whenever he gets the opportunity. This is a great excuse to get some much needed R&R, in his opinion, so the two of you will be visiting spas and getting massages and you aren't walking anywhere anymore, he is one of the Rulers of the Underworld and you are going to be carried on a litter, so help him Gardonus.
Beelzebub
"You need to eat well to get your strength back."
Prepare yourself for Beel's version of "eating well". You only had three eggs for breakfast? You'll never heal at that rate. Have another six and some bacon. Here's a protein shake. It's designed for demons so it's probably a little grittier than the soft stuff from the human world but it's exactly what you need. No, he doesn't have any science to back this up. Yes, he expects you to clean your plate.
Belphegor
"Of course you got hurt, running around all the time. You should just relax with me."
Little did you know this was all part of Belphegor's master plan...
What a perfect opportunity to spend every second of the day with you. Now that you're forced to sit around and avoid being too active, he has you right where he wants you (specifically, under the blankets with him while he sleeps). He'll remind you at every opportunity that you normally run yourself ragged, and you've earned some time to laze around. And now that you're injured, you have the perfect excuse!
Diavolo
"Your poor human bones... My home is always open to you if you need somewhere more convenient to stay. Please take care of yourself, in the meantime."
Rest assured, he will provide you with all transportation necessary to and from RAD. Or perhaps you would like to try remote classes? Leviathan finds them productive! And if you need anything, please let him know. He'll be in touch about five times a day just to make sure you remember that.
Barbatos
"I am only a phone call away should you require my assistance."
And he will be on call at all hours of the day and night, just in case. You'll be treated like royalty when you visit the castle too, of course. (Even more like royalty than usual, that is.)
Solomon
"Oh, that? Here."
He just magics your ankle better. There, there, little apprentice. He's surprised you didn't do that yourself.
Simeon
"What are you carrying? I'll take it for you. No, I insist!"
Simeon will be a perfect gentleman, helping you up and down stairs and carrying your books and shopping for you. He's very concerned about you somehow re-injuring yourself, and even when you're alright to walk without crutches anymore, he still *really wishes* you'd use them for an extra week or two, just to be on the safe side.
Luke
"You did what to your ankle?! Ankles can do that?!
Congratulations, you've introduced Luke to the concept of broken bones, and he will find the human skeleton creepy and gross for the rest of his life.
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@thefandomthings I know this isn't exactly what your ask was, but it's similar, so I hope you like this!
#this was in my drafts for weeks#time to do another gang reacts post#obey me#obey me ensemble#obey me headcanons#obey me lucifer#obey me x reader#obey me mammon#obey me leviathan#obey me satan#obey me asmo#obey me beel#obey me belphegor#obey me belphie#obey me diavolo#obey me solomon#obey me simeon#obey me barbatos#obey me luke#dthc#hcs#text post#lucifer#mammon#belphie#levi#satan#asmo#beel#the gang react
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my everything
masterlist ko-fi ao3
Summary: The last thing that Bucky ever expected to see was the love of his life from the past trapped in one of the Hydra bunkers in the cryofreeze chamber. Yet here he was almost two days later, staring at your still unconscious body through the window at the medical wing, imagining the horror and disgust on your face when you found out that he was no longer the innocent and happy boy you knew before.
Word count: 6.8K
Warnings: angst and fluff, I fucked up original timeline so there is no civil war in here, bucky needs and gets a hug, you're bucky's gf from the 40's, cryofreeze, self hate talk, happy end.
Author's note: enjoy💘
“Aren't you fucking tired of this?” Bucky growled as he burst into the common room where Sam, Steve, and Natasha were sitting. "If you set me up on another date, Wilson, I'll break your fucking wings."
Sam rolled his eyes and said, "Calm down, cyborg. Look at you, all angry and stressed out; you need to get laid! When was the last time you’ve been on a date?"
Steve raised his eyebrows in surprise as he glanced between his two friends.
"Sit down, Barnes." Nat nodded her head at the couch across from her. Bucky hesitated for a few seconds, as too many feelings were bubbling inside of him, but he obeyed and sat down, crossing his arms over his chest. “Now explain what happened.”
"This idiot is trying to set me up again.” He said, nodding towards Sam. "And I told you I'm not interested."
“But why? Don't you want to feel like back in the days and have some fun with pretty women? This Hydra shit clearly wasn’t good for you. You’re too tense and always mad. Go on a date, maybe you’ll find a good girl to spend some time with.” Sam genuinely wanted to help his friend, and he didn’t understand why Bucky was so mad about it.
The look on Bucky’s face was weird. Like he wanted to say something but, at the same time, didn’t want to share his thoughts.
“Are you already dating someone?” Natasha leaned with her elbows on her knees and studied his face. There was definitely something that Bucky didn’t want to say.
Steve looked between the three of his friends, and when Nat asked Bucky a question, it was like a bulb turned on in his head.
"Buck…" Bucky met Steve's eyes, holding eye contact for a few seconds, like they were talking about something that only they knew.
“Hey!” Sam said, waving his hands. “What are you two doing? Do you know something, Rogers?”
“Buck, is it because of her?” The blonde said it almost in a whisper. “You still remember, right?”
“Did you have a girlfriend before the war?” Natasha, as always, understood everything immediately, and it was funny to see how Sam’s mouth fell open in shock.
Bucky clenched and unclenched his hands in his lap, not sure if he should reveal the truth. He had kept it to himself for so long—ever since he escaped Hydra and the memories from the past started to flood his head. It was too painful to think about you. To think about the woman who was his whole life many years ago. He remembered everything, and now he sees you in his dreams almost every night. Sometimes in nightmares, sometimes in the good ones, about the life that you two would’ve had if he hadn’t gone to war.
“What the hell are you hiding from us?” Sam shouted again, trying to get attention.
“I…” Bucky frowns, staring at his hands. “I had a girlfriend... before the army, before the Hydra.” He closed his eyes and tried to control his breathing. Just the thought of you hurt him, making him regret everything. That he left, that he didn’t marry you, and that the universe had this shitty plan.
“And that’s why you don’t want to go out with someone?” Come on, man, how long has it been? 80 years? Get over it. It must have been another one of your girlfriends that you hooked up with when you were young.” He chuckled, looking between his friends, none of whom seemed happy with his choice of words.
"Sam, don't—"
“You sound like an asshole.”
“Get over it?” Bucky didn’t let Steve or Nat finish their sentences before he barked at Sam, looking even more angry than before. “Just another one of my girlfriends? Do you have any idea what the fuck you're talking about, Wilson? " He looked like he was ready to kick his friend right in the face. “She wasn’t one of them. In fact, there was no “them”. In my entire life, I’ve never even touched another woman because I've been in love with Y/N since I was 14. We started dating when I turned 18, and I proposed before I had to go to the war.”
Bucky’s emotions quickly changed as the hot rage turned into a longing for memories and feelings. He felt a lump in his throat, so he reached into his pocket for his wallet, from which he pulled out your old and shabby photo, gently running his finger over your face.
“Y/N was everything to me. She said yes, and I promised her that I would return so we could get married. I imagined that I would spend my whole life with her, you know? I don't need any other woman. I do not want it. I still love her, and I don't care if either of you find it funny.
The room fell into heavy silence. Steve just looked out the window, remembering the times when the three of you went to Coney Island, and he was always the third wheel. You were his friend too, and the aching feeling in his chest was too heavy.
Sam felt a little bit awkward after saying these things about your relationships. He wanted to tease Bucky, not be rude.
Natasha was the one who took the first step when she stretched the arm so Bucky would give her the photo. “You two look so cheesy. She’s really gorgeous.” She smirked, looking at the old black-and-white photo of you two sitting on the bench. Your back was almost lying on Bucky’s body, and his arms were wrapped around you. It seemed like you were talking about something and enjoying the private moment. Bucky had the biggest smile Natasha has ever seen on his face, as he was looking at you with heart eyes.
“Can I see?” Sam finally asked, nodding at the photograph in Natasha's hands. She passed him the photo and Bucky moved in his place, feeling a little bit uncomfortable about revealing this part of his life.
“You two look cute. Weird to see a smile on your face.” Sam chuckled.
“Where did you find this photo?” Steve leaned closer to the picture, immediately remembering the day you and Bucky took it and the way Bucky has had it with him ever since.
“I took it to the war. Always had it in a jacket, even on missions. She was with me that day on the train. I think Hydra found this in my pocket. When I ran away from there, I found a box with my stuff; the photo was there.”
“Have you… tried to find something about her?” Steve lifted his head, studying his friend's reaction.
“Yeah,” Bucky sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “I don’t know how, but I didn’t find anything. Two years after my fall, there was no record of her. No marriage certificate, no place of residence, no place of work. Nothing. Like she just disappeared.” He shook his head in despair.
“But it's impossible.” Steve frowned, giving the photo back. “A person can't just disappear and leave nothing behind.”
"I don't know," Bucky shrugged, looking back at the photo for a second and then slipping it back into his wallet. "Maybe it's for the best. I don't know how I would come to terms with the news of her death.”
It’s been almost two weeks since that conversation, and luckily for Bucky, Sam didn’t attempt to set him up with anyone anymore.
Earlier that day, Tony announced that his new technology had spotted some weird activity in something that looked like an old and hidden Hydra base. It was pretty much abandoned, but there were signs of small energy consumption, as if something was still constantly working. That’s why the team of Bucky, Steve, Sam, and Tony had to check it out and destroy any possible danger.
After being free from Hydra, Bucky didn’t take part in many missions because the team agreed that it would be better for him to heal and stay far away from triggers. But this base brought up many concerns: it was hidden far away, there was no information about it in nonofficial papers, and even Bucky himself had never heard about it. Tony insisted that someone with knowledge of the Hydra system should go there too.
When the four of them arrived on the quinjet at something that looked like a well-hidden abandoned bunker, they decided not to split up and go through the main and only entrance.
“Be careful; we don’t know that they might hide in here.” Steve said, going in first with a shield in front of him. Bucky and Sam went after him, holding rifles and checking the big and almost empty room.
“They should clean in here, kinda dusty.” Tony chuckled in his usual playful voice.
“It’s not a good time for your jokes, Stark.” Steve was always a little too serious during missions, and Tony really liked pushing his buttons. “I see the light in the other room.” He whispered, carefully opening the door.
“Holy shit.” Sam and Tony spoke at the same time when all four of them entered the giant room.
There were five big glass machines that were a little bit foggy and had a little lightning in them.
“What is this?” Steve ran closer to one of them and saw that there was a man inside. “Oh my god, there is a man in here... It looks like he’s alive.”
“There is a folder called “The Winter Soldier Program” with personal information.” Sam said, picking up a file from the shelf in the corner of the room. “George Harris, 27 from New York. Kathleen Hill, 21 from New York…” He read, mumbling to himself.
“It’s a cryostasis chamber. Hydra used it to freeze me.” Bucky lowered his rifle, coming closer to one of the chambers. Another man. “It lowers your body temperature to the point that you can be kept like that for many years. Hydra– “ Bucky went silent when he got to another glass camera.
“Barnes? Why is there—” Sam didn’t finish his words when the sound of Bucky’s weapon falling on the cold concrete filled the room.
“No-no-no, please, no!” He whispered, moving closer to the glass. He couldn’t believe what he saw.
You were right in front of him, with closed eyes and too pale skin. That was impossible. It’s not you. There was no chance that you somehow ended up with Hydra.
Bucky felt like he was unable to breathe. He tried to inhale some air, but the lump in his throat was too big. The tears blurred his vision; he didn’t hear anything around him, as your almost lifeless body was the only thing that he thought about. You, his sweet girl, somehow ended up trapped with monsters, and he couldn’t do anything to save you from it.
“Bucky!” Two pairs of hands dragged him from the chamber, and the blurry vision of his best friend was now visible in front of him. “Bucky, listen to me! You should calm down, buddy. Just breathe, okay?” Steve deeply inhaled and exhaled to help Bucky, and after a few minutes, he was finally able to speak.
“T-that’s impossible, Steve. She shouldn’t be there! She should’ve found another man and lived a happy life with her family!” He said in a shaking voice, angrily wiping away tears from his face.
“I don’t know how this happened, Buck; I really don’t. But she may be alive there.” Steve supportively squeezed Bucky’s shoulder.
“We can’t just take these people out. We should transport them to the tower and find the safest way to unfreeze them.” Tony said in a serious voice, not joking around anymore. He walked closer to the chambers, studying each of them. “It looks like they are working on their own power, and this one, “he pointed at the one that was dark and with water drops from the inside. “Doesn’t work anymore. The man is probably dead.”
“Are there any chances of getting them out of there alive?” Sam glared at Bucky, who was just staring at your peaceful but haggard face through the glass.
“I don’t know, but me and Banner will do everything we can.”
It took another day to find a way to move four of the still-working chambers to the compound and ten more hours to defrost everyone. and to say that Bucky was completely stressed out and exhausted was an understatement. He didn’t sleep at all, staying in the room near the lab to get all the news as soon as possible. He walked around the room for hours, overthinking everything—what will happen if you die or if you survive? Is it really better for you to wake up and see all the damage that he has done for the past years? To see the empty shell of the person you loved in the past?
“Barnes!” Tony blasted through the doors with a grin on his face. “We did it.”
“You did it?” Bucky’s whole body was buzzing with energy and anxiety. “Where is she? Is she alive? Is she conscious? Can I see her?”
“Wow-wow, calm down. She is alive, but you can’t see or visit her right now. Dr. Cho has to run many tests to find out whether your lovebird is healthy or not.” Tony nodded his head toward the corridor so Bucky would follow him. “We put each of them into a different room, and your Blonde Bestie insisted on putting Y/N into the best and the biggest one. There is a special window through which you can see her, but she cannot see you from the inside. So you can be as creepy as you want to until she gets better.” Stark slapped Bucky on the shoulder to show some kind of support when they stopped in front of the said window.
You were lying on the bed, surrounded by too many wires and monitors. Dr. Cho was standing above you, writing something down, and checking the device near your head.
She said something aloud, probably talking to FRIDAY, and came out of the room.
“Oh, Mr.Barnes, I heard that Y/N was your girlfriend, right?” She smiled, and Bucky slightly nodded, not being able to completely drag his attention from your body. “I’ll tell you this: it’s my most difficult and unique case, but she’s a strong one. Her body heals faster than other people’s from cryo. I believe she’ll be fully awake tomorrow.”
“Thank you, Dr.Cho.” Bucky felt a little bit better now that he had more hope that you could really be back. Dr.Cho gave him another smile and left to check on her other patients.
“I have to find out if these people have families. Did Y/N have someone who might be alive?” Tony asked.
“No, she didn’t.”
“I’ll go, and you, Barnes, will stay away from her for now, understood?” He pointed a finger into Bucky’s face.
“Yes. I’ll just watch from here.”
You were alive. You were awake. Bucky saw with his own eyes as your body started moving and you slowly sat on the bed, confused by your surroundings. He saw panic on your face because you were clearly disoriented and scared to be alone in an unknown place.
As fast as he could, he found Dr. Cho, who was in the room with Steve and Natasha. When he, choking on all the emotions, told them about you, it was a mess.
Dr. Cho and a few other nurses ran to your room to check your condition because you were the first one to open your eyes.
Bucky, Steve, and Nat stood on the other side of the window. Bucky wasn’t able to fully convince himself that it was true that you were so close to him. It felt like a dream, like a weird picture that his brain created to comfort him.
“She’s okay, Buddy.” Steve placed a hand on Bucky’s shoulder because it seemed like he didn’t even blink or breathe. “You can see her soon.”
“No.” He mumbled.
“What?” His friend’s head shot in his direction.
“Someone else should talk to her first. Tell her about my past. Maybe she won’t even want to see me after everything I’ve done.”
“I can go and talk to her first.” Natasha softly smiled. She knew the feeling when you’re afraid that someone will leave you because of your past. “I think it’s better for Y/N to first find out that she woke up in the new century and that she was cryofrozen for many years. I’ll tell her that Steve is alive, and then me and you can both tell her about Bucky.”
Bucky just nodded to her words, still not being able to look at anything besides you. He wasn’t sure that after you find out all the truth, you’ll allow him to even be around you, so for now, he tried to memorize you as much as he could.
Since the moment you opened your eyes, everything felt unknown and different. You couldn’t explain it, but something had changed. You didn’t know where you were, what time it was, how you ended up in that place, or who all these people were. You felt scared as too many doctors crowded your room and fussed around, talking about tests and medical procedures.
The young woman who seemed to be in charge was actually really sweet. After only you and her were left in the room, she sat on your bed with a pile of clothes in her hands and smiled at you.
“So, Y/N, my name is Dr. Cho, and I’m here to help you heal faster and without any consequences.”
“Where am I?” Your voice was too raspy and harsh. It felt like you swallowed a glass of sand.
She sighed, looking at her journal. “It’s hard to explain, but I promise that there’s nothing to worry about. You are safe. In a few minutes, someone will visit you to talk about everything and answer any of your questions. Now, I was told to give you these clothes so it would be more comfortable for you. You can change in the bathroom right there; there is also anything you might need like a toothbrush, soap, and so on.” She pointed at the door in the corner of the room.
You stayed silent until Dr. Cho left your room, and then slowly, feeling kind of scared to move around this place, you went to the bathroom to change out of the hospital gown.
The bathroom looked even weirder than the main room; you had never seen such furniture and interiors. And when you unfolded your new clothes, it took you a few seconds to figure it out. It was some kind of soft pants and a large t-shirt. What kind of clothes was it? Yes, they were actually comfortable, but it wasn’t something that you saw in the stores.
While you were brushing your teeth, your brain was working too hard trying to figure out what the hell was going on, until you heard someone calling your name.
“Hey, Y/N, my name is Natasha.” The pretty red-headed woman was standing near your bed with a tray and food in her hands.
“Please, tell me what’s going on. Where am I? Why does everything look so strange here?” You said in a desperate voice, you almost wanted to scream because you woke up several hours ago, but no one told you a single thing.
“Don’t be nervous, honey. Let's sit on the bed; you’ll eat your special meal, and I’ll tell you everything you want.” She was so nice and genuine, so you nodded and sat down.
Natasha placed a tray near you, and you saw that it was your favorite food of all time. You took a bite, and your taste buds were immediately filled with the taste of the meal that James cooked you almost every day. James. It was his recipe. The tears flooded your eyes when all of the memories about your dead boyfriend returned to your head. Yeah, how could you forget that it had been at least two years since he was gone?
“Y/N? What happened?” Natasha’s worried voice distracted you.
“It just reminded me of someone. I felt like I was home, and it hurts me because nothing is the same anymore.” You wiped your tears away, taking another bite.
“I promise you that everything is going to be okay. You are not alone here.” You frowned at her words but still nodded. “So ask whatever you want to.”
“Where am I, and why does everything look so different?”
“You are at the Avengers Tower, located in Manhattan, New York City. I know that might sound ridiculous, but you were in the cryostasis chamber up until now. It’s 2023, and a lot of things have changed in the world; that's why it might be confusing.”
You stayed silent for a few seconds, overthinking Natasha’s words. “It can’t be true. I can’t be more than one hundred years old now. And I look the same.”
“This is how cryostasis works—it freezes the body so it can survive many years without any changes. Now tell me how you ended up with Hydra. What is the last thing you remember before waking up here?”
“Back in the 40s, I was a nurse. My– my boyfriend— he died during the war.” You stopped because of the lump in your throat. It was too hard to bring back these memories because it was the first time you said these words out loud. “He died, and then my closest friend died too, and I just had no one left. I was alone, and I didn’t even know what to live for because all of my dreams about family and a happy life with the person I loved died too.” Natasha put her hand over yours on the bed and gave you a supportive squeeze. “Then one day in our hospital, scientists were looking for people who would like to test new serums. I decided that I had nothing to lose, so me and a few other nurses signed in.”
“Kathleen, Josh, Adam, and Frank, right?” The woman in front of you gave you a sad smile.
“Yes, how do you know that?”
“We found them with you. Adam’s camera was broken, so he died a long time ago, but the rest of them are here too, but, unfortunately, they haven’t regained consciousness yet.”
You nodded. Your food was now done and set aside, and you sat on the bed more comfortably, bringing your knees to your chest. “These scientists were running some tests on us in the lab that they brought us in. It felt weird, and I remember that Kathleen always complained that it was painful. The last thing that happened was that they told us to step into a weird-looking machine that was meant to be a part of some kind of experiment. That’s it.”
“It was Hydra. A terrorist organization that tried to rule the world. They were evil, and you were lucky to get out of there alive.” Natasha pursed her lips. “Thank you for telling me this.”
You two sat in silence for a few seconds until she looked over her shoulder at the weird-looking mirror that took up almost a whole wall.
“Is anything wrong?” You furrowed.
“I have to tell and show you something really important, but everyone is worried about how you are going to react to this.” She studied your face with a weird expression.
“Is there anything more crazy than me being in another century after I was frozen?” You tried to smile, but Natasha just nodded.
“I’ll be right back. Please, try to breathe, okay?” She stood from your bed, took the tray, and left.
Natasha came back, and behind her was the last person you ever expected to see again. You jumped on your feet, feeling like your eyes were lying to you.
“This—this can’t be true... No, Natasha—Steve, you died.” You mumbled under your breath. Your heart rate was way higher than usual, and it felt like you were drowning. You put your hand over your eyes, as your body started shaking. It’s just a dream. It’s just a weird fucking dream.
Two large hands wrapped around your body, pulling you into the hard chest. “Sh-s, Y/N, breathe, just breathe.” His familiar voice filled your ears, and you started crying harder, gripping his shirt. He was rocking you from side to side like a baby, while your tears and sobs filled the silent room.
“What– how– how is this possible? You crushed the plane into ice.” You shattered, tears running down your face.
“The Super Soldier serum saved me. The S.H.I.E.L.D. found my body 12 years ago.” Steve loosened his arms around you, allowing you to look up at him. He was exactly the same. This blonde hair, these light blue eyes, and that soft smile that he always had for you. “Please, sit back on the bed. We have a lot to talk about.” His face was now more serious. Even though he was extremely happy to get back his second closest best friend, he knew that Bucky was dying without you.
Steve and Bucky both looked at your interaction with Natasha, and it was obvious that everything Bucky wanted was for you to be near him. He looked through that window without any distraction, and his face lit up with a small smile when you tasted the food that he cooked for you and became emotional. He knew that you would appreciate it.
“About what?” You wiped your face with the back of your hand and sat down, holding Steve's hand. Natasha, who was still standing in the middle of the room, passed him a thick folder and left. Steve sat near you and gave you a supportive smile.
“Bucky.”
You froze and snatched your hand out of his.
“Steve, no. Please—” You wrapped your hands around your body, as if you were instantly trying to hide from the pain that was aching in your chest. “Please, don’t hurt me anymore. I can’t handle that. Talking about him w-when he’s not with me anymore.” The sods started to get out of you, and you hid your face from Steve’s soft and apologizing eyes.
“He is alive.” Steve’s hands fell on your shoulders, and he lowered his head, trying to make you look him in the eyes.
“Don’t lie to me! He is dead; I saw the reports; I got the letter from Phillips saying that he’s sorry for our loss!” You particularly yelled at your friend.
“Y/N, listen to me, okay? Bucky is alive. He is here. Behind that door, he’s watching us right now.” You were shaking your head in denial.
That was impossible. You knew all this story; Steve himself told you what happened that day. There was no chance for Bucky to survive the fall from that height in the middle of nowhere. Yet here was Steve, sitting right before you. His big blue and soft eyes were looking into your eyes, and you didn’t see a single sign of hesitation or lying in there. He was so genuine that you wanted to believe that your boyfriend was, in fact, a few meters away from you.
“How? And why? James– he would’ve been with me if he were alive. Why isn’t he here?” You sobbed, and then the realization came to you. “That food—the food that Natsha brought me. It tasted exactly like he made it.”
“Bucky thought that it might comfort you. He found you in that laboratory, he has been near you since that day, and he saw that you were scared and disoriented when you woke up. And that's why I am here. Bucky insisted that I should talk to you first and tell you everything. He is afraid that you might not see him anymore after finding out everything that is written here.” Steve picked up the folder and put it on your lap.
“The Winter Soldier” was written on top of the old-looking piece of paper, and for some reason you felt something weird in your chest.
“I want to let you know that whatever is in here, it cannot make me hate him.” You mumbled, hesitating to open the folder. “What’s in there, Steve? Tell me everything.”
“These are the papers that S.H.I.E.L.D. and Hydra had on the Winter Soldier. Everything that happened to him: experiments, torture, assassinations, crimes. This is what happened to Bucky after the fall. This is what Hydra did to him over these years.”
You felt a lump in your throat when you opened the first page and saw Bucky’s photo from the army. But nothing prepared you for everything you read and saw after that. He wasn’t even James or Bucky anymore. He was a Soldier. An Asset. Someone without an identity. All the detailed descriptions of the medical procedures, brainwashing, electroshock, torture, and punishments with attached photos made you want to vomit and cry hysterically. You couldn’t stop crying when your shaking hands took a picture of the love of your life sitting shirtless and unconscious on some kind of stool with wires attached to his head.
How could someone do that? How could someone torture a person almost to death and then just write about it like it was a fucking dairy?
“His arm, it’s metal. Why is it made from metal?” Your teary-red eyes shoot back to Steve’s face.
“Bucky lost it during the fall. They gave him a new one, but it causes him a lot of pain. Physical and mental.”
“I don’t— Steve, I don’t understand.” You took another picture with Bucky standing in his full black costume and a mask, not a single emotion on his face. “Why did they do this? For what?”
“Hydra wanted to have the perfect asset. Killing machine. To commit crimes, kill unwanted people, and basically rule the world.” Steve ran a hand through his hair, looking at the floor. “They made Bucky the best. They completely cleared his head from the memories of his past; they trained him to be invincible and invisible. They had a special combination of words to control him, so he would always come back and do as he was told.”
You closed the file and moved it aside, closing your face with your hands while you were crying.
“And he thinks that I can reject him?” You whispered.
“Y/N, please try to understand what such things can do to your brain. Bucky goes to therapy, but he probably would never be able to fully heal from this experience.” His hand fell on your shoulder and squeezed it slightly. “Bucky always was a good person; that's why right now he feels so much guilt that it’s unimaginable. Even if nothing of this is his fault, he can’t forgive himself for these murders and damage. He has PTSD, nightmares, and a lot of trust issues.”
“I understand, but I would’ve never rejected him. He’s everything that I had, and when I lost him, it felt like hell.” You took a deep breath, looking Steve in the eyes. “Please, let me see him. I need it, and he needs it too.” Steve’s eyes softened at you. He almost forgot the love that his two best friends had for each other.
“Give me a minute, okay?” He smiled, kissed your head, and left your room, leaving you alone with your thoughts.
You were really going to see the man that you thought you had lost forever in a few seconds. It was almost three years for you, but almost eighty for him. A wave of anxiety washed over you when you thought that maybe he doesn’t feel the same anymore and doesn’t have the same feelings as you do. You almost went down a rabbit hole until the door started to open.
You slowly stood up, feeling a little bit uneasy. Even though you and Steve were just talking about it, seeing Bucky alive felt unreal. Your eyes were sliding up and down his face to remember every little part. He looked different, more mature, with a broad chest and shoulders and long, silky hair.
Bucky’s heart was pounding in his ears, and his mouth was completely dry while you were observing him. You had tears in your eyes, and your lower lip was trembling when you tried to hold yourself from crying out loud. You were in some baggy clothes that Nat found for you, but you still looked fucking gorgeous. Still the most beautiful girl on the whole planet.
“Doll…” Bucky’s raspy voice filled the room, and it was everything you needed.
In just a second, you ran to him, falling right into his body. Arms wrapped around his shoulders, and your face hidden into his neck.
As soon as Bucky finally hugged your smaller body and felt that it was real and that you were real, he broke down. Every last piece of strength went through the window as the tears rolled down his cheeks, probably soaking your t-shirt.
He wanted to drop to his knees and beg for your forgiveness for all of the awful things that he had done. He didn’t deserve you anymore, not with this much blood on his hands. But Bucky couldn’t do what he wanted because your grip on him was so strong that he wasn’t even able to move away for an inch.
“James…” Your quiet voice filled his ears, and it sent shivers down his spine. Only you and his ma called him that, and he missed it so fucking much.
Bucky’s hands moved from your waist a little bit lower, and you viewed it as an opportunity to get even closer. Your legs instantly wrapped around his body, and Bucky, making sure that you wouldn’t fall, went to the bed and sat down with you on his knees.
“I’m so sorry... I’m so sorry for everything that I’ve done.” He sobbed, shaking his head. You pulled away a little bit, finally meeting Bucky face-to-face.
“Don’t you dare apologize for the things that you weren’t able to control, James!” Your voice suddenly became rough, filled with so much anger toward the people who hurt your precious boy. His hand on your waist tightened, and you slid your own to cup Bucky’s face. “I want to kill every one of them. Everyone who hurt you, who punished you,” Soft fingertips traced the delicate skin of the templates where, as you remember from the photos, wires with electricity were placed. “You didn’t deserve to go through this, James. I wish I was there for you.”
“You were always with me. Even when they wiped me, I still had someone in my head. A woman with a soft voice, who told me that I'm strong and that it will end soon. I would’ve died without it.” You both were looking into each other's teary eyes, both feeling too much love and desire.
Your head slightly tilted towards his, connecting your foreheads, and for a few seconds, it felt like home. Like nothing happened and you two were just having a lazy morning in bed.
The calloused hand on the side of your face brought you back to reality. Bucky’s beautiful blue eyes were looking into yours, and, sharing one thought, you both moved closer and connected your lips. The kiss was so soft, slow, and gentle, like you had the whole time in the world. It was this type of kiss that said that you both were there and alive. It was a reminder of the love that you had for each other. Reassurance, that no matter what, you will be there.
“I missed you so fucking much, doll. Since the day I first remembered everything, all I could think about was you. Even tried to find you, but there was not a single document. I started to believe that you just found a man, changed your last name, and moved away from that mess.” You were so close to each other, not wanting to split up even for a second. Your hands were moving up and down Bucky’s hard chest while he was rubbing the soft skin of your cheek with his thumb.
“Are you joking, James? No one was able to replace you. The only people I talked to during that time were your mom and Becca.” His facial expression slightly changed at the mention of his family, and you placed a soft kiss on his stubble cheek. “I should’ve been the one who took care of them, but I was nothing without you, and Winnie almost made me move in with them. That’s why I jumped at the opportunity to be a volunteer for these tests.”
Bucky shook his head, his eyes again full of regret and pain. “I hate that it happened because of me.”
“At least I’m here right now. With you.” You smiled, sliding your hand into his dark, long locks. “You know, James, you look really good for someone who’s older than one hundred years old. I like your hair. And stubble.” His eyes rolled back at the feeling of your nails on his scalp. It had been so long since someone touched him without an intention to hurt him, and the realization of that made your heart swell with the need to take care of your boyfriend.
“You know that you’re one year younger than me, right?” Your favorite little smirk in the whole world appeared on Bucky’s lips, and you smiled, moving a little bit closer to his body. The metal hand on your waist tightened, and you realized that you hadn't seen it in person yet.
Your right hand reached behind you, grabbing a hard wrist that was covered in leather. Bucky’s body immediately froze under you, and his eyes snapped open.
“Doll, no… You don’t have to...”
“I want to. Give me your hand, James.” You said without any hesitation. Bucky looked you in the eyes for a few seconds, but then brought his metal hand between your bodies. “It’s just me, okay? I’m not scared, and I want to know everything.” You wrapped both of your hands around his hand and then gently started to take off the glove.
The dark metal with beautiful golden stripes was shining under the bright light of the room. Your mouth slightly opened when you moved each finger with interest. Your gentle hands slid higher, rolling up the sleeve of the red henley Bucky was wearing. It was so smooth, without any sharp details, just an amazing and mind-blowing mechanism.
“That’s so beautiful.” You mumbled in awe. Suddenly the plates under your hands moved, and a quiet whirring sound filled the room. You shot your eyes back at Bucky in shock, only to see that he was already looking at you with so much love that you almost melted. “Did you do that?”
“It’s a new arm, not from Hydra. It reacts to my emotions. No one ever touched it without any fear.” You almost missed that last sentence, but the hurt in Bucky’s voice made you grab his face with your hands to get his whole attention.
“Listen to me, James. I’m not afraid of you. I won’t reject you. You are everything that I want. You still have the biggest and kindest heart of the guy that I met many years ago, and I’ll do everything to prove to you this.” The metal hand carefully touched your hand on the side of his face. “I love you. I love you so much, James.”
“I love you too, Doll. More than anything in this life,” Your lips crushed into each other, now sharing a more passionate and deep kiss. You slightly tilted your head, allowing Bucky to part your lips with his tongue and playfully bite you. It was almost too overwhelming, and you both were completely lost in each other until you finally needed to breathe.
“Stay here with me, please. I don’t want you to leave.” You whined, trying to push your big and strong super soldier onto the bed.
“I won’t leave, baby.” He chuckled, allowing you to push him back. You happily giggled and laid near him, interlacing your bodies together.
You two were just staying in your own little bubble on your bed for what seemed like forever, talking about everything and nothing at the same time, until you finally fell asleep, feeling happy and peaceful in each other's arms.
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes#bucky fanfic#bucky x reader#bucky x you#james bucky barnes#marvel#james buchanan barnes#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky x y/n
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Reader joining 141 for a mission and Simon is not having it and is pissed at price for calling them and all of the other guys are confused about why ghost is so upset till they find out reader is his wife after the mission
Maybe reader got hurt and ghost goes off on price
The Price Of A Secret
Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader
Genre: Hurt/Comfort
"People get injured on the job, Ghost." Gaz tries to defuse the situation. "She's alive-"
"This is different." He grits out.
"And why's that?"
"Because that's my wife!" He hisses, slamming his fist onto the table. It strikes them harder than if he were to have yelled it at them.
A/N: It's 2:45am and I have no energy to proofread caution advised-
Masterlist
The moment the picture of the intelligence officer joining them flashes on the screen, Ghost puts his foot down.
"She's not coming."
Everyone in the room pauses, Price staring at Ghost mid sentence. It's the usual 141, and then it's her. Sitting there with a mildly frustrated look, refusing to look at him because she should have known he'd try to pull some shit like this.
"Why not?" Price folds his arm, narrowing his eyes. "Is there an issue, Lieutenant?"
She was supposed to work from the inside, drawing out data and cracking through defences that they then passed on to people like the 141. An integral part of the process of running the whole task force, but not once was she involved in hands-on field work.
It's not that she's incompetent. No, not at all. Ghost would have his head bit off if he even remotely implied that because it simply isn't true. She got the top scores in almost every part of her training exercises, and yet she chose the intelligence part of the military to serve in. His wife was as competent as they got.
His wife.
"This is a covert operation, the fewer people the better." That's what he goes with. Not because his heart picks up at the thought of her being anywhere near what they deal with every day.
"I won't have the range I need to retrieve the data from their servers if I'm not close to them." She speaks up, and their eyes meet from across the room.
His determined, hers resolute.
Sometimes he really hated that she was so fucking stubborn. It had been the same stubbornness that cracked down the iron grip he'd had on the walls in his mind and around his heart, but if that stubbornness was what got her killed Simon would give up this joy in a heartbeat.
He'd do it for her if it meant she kept on living.
"This isn't up for discussion, Ghost." Price states, "She's part of this operation on my authority."
"Price-"
"End of discussion. You settle whatever you have going on outside this room." And fuck, he can't refute a direct order like that, can he?
Ghost sees her release a long exhale, and he knows he won't share such a relief until this damn operation was over and done with.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
Her body is so limp it scares the ever-loving shit out of him.
Ghost grips her so tight it's as if he himself is the only thing tethering her soul to her body, boots thumping hard against the muddy ground as they retreat back to their extraction point, data successfully retrieved.
Successfully, not smoothly.
The plan was simple. They'd flank the building while she camped out near the edge of the woods, retrieving the intel they needed. A couple of fuckers slipped out of the building and went straight for her.
Ghost's stomach turns when he remembers how he found the scene. She wasn't answering through her comms, but he knew he wasn't able to leave his position until the building was secure.
Waiting felt like an eternity, he could feel Soap send troubled glances in his direction at the way Ghost was unusually silent and more brutal than.
When the building was finally secure, they'd gone to reunite with her position and found three men dead, bloody seeping into the ground in a crimson mess. The last one standing hovered over her unconscious form, over his wife with a knife raised ready to slit her thought.
The only thought Ghost had as he ripped the man away with his hands was that he was going to take the one good thing in his life away, and he would not let that happen. Not her. Not like this.
"Bleeding wound to the head, unconscious but still breathing!" Gaz called out while Ghost shoved the man's own knife into his throat. Tossing the gurgling body aside like a ragdoll, he's immediately by her side, assessing before carefully lifting her up in his arms.
It's the most emotion Ghost has ever expressed in front of the others, but he couldn't give a fuck about the looks or the questions right now. Her heartbeat against him settled him the slightest bit with the reassurance that she was alive.
Angry does not begin to describe what itches under Ghost's skin as they scramble into their exfil airship.
"Medic!" He barks the second they lift off. Setting her down, he brushes the bloody strands of her hair away from her face.
Despite the urge to stay by her side, the medic gingerly requests for him to take a step back so he could work. Ghost obliges but his eyes never leave her face.
He's painfully aware of his wedding ring pressing against his chest, strung onto a chain long enough to be tucked under his uniform. A matching one to her own.
Nobody speaks.
Perhaps they recognise the anger washing off of Ghost in waves, because if they'd just bloody listened to him, she wouldn't be laying there with a head wound.
The atmosphere is heavy and sombre. Even Soap keeps his mouth shut, too confused by the outward, uncharacteristic way Ghost was acting to make fun of it.
It's only when the medic announces she's stable that the suffocating knot in Ghost's chest loosens. There's audible relief from everyone in the place.
"Bloody hell." Price breathes, and something in Ghost snaps.
"I told you to dismiss her from the op." He says coldly, turning to the man.
"We got what we needed, son." He sighs, deep and tired, and part of Ghost understands that this was their life. But he's too worked up to care.
"At a fucking cost."
"People get injured on the job, Ghost." Gaz tries to defuse the situation. "She's alive, that's all that matters. Nothing permanent, yeah?" He glances at the medic, who confirms with a nod before slipping away.
"This is different." Ghost grits out.
"Why's that?"
"Because that's my wife!" He hisses, slamming his fist onto the metallic walls. It strikes them harder than if he were to have yelled it at them.
How long had it taken for Ghost-...no, for Simon to let someone crack open his defences until he was coaxed out and allowed himself to love again? Four years they've been married, and four years he's kept it a secret.
It's not that he doesn't trust his team. He trusts them with his life, would lay his own down for Johnny, Gaz, and Price any day.
But this? This was bigger than him, she was the most precious thing that had ever happened to him, and the safest way to preserve that was the keep it on a need-to-know basis.
She'd agreed with him, of course. In that soft, patient way she always has with him. She'd seen the paranoia in him, recognised that he needed this one thing for himself, and she'd been more than happy to oblige.
What was outside validation about her relationship worth when she got to crawl into his arms at the end of the day? Be granted the pleasure that comes with being loved by someone as protective, intelligent, and sharp as Simon Riley? She adores all of him, even the jagged pieces that cut into her from time to time, because he's always there to take care of her afterwards.
"She's my wife." He repeats quieter, sitting back down. Exhaustion lines the slope of his shoulder's dark circles well present under his mask.
"You're married." Soap is the first to speak, incredulously. "You? Ghost? You're married?" His eyes flicker down to Ghost's left hand, and then to Gaz and Price who look equally as surprised. "I mean, congratulations?" He trails off, knowing it's not really the situation to celebrate.
"Thanks." A tired, small voice has everyone's attention back onto the figure on the bed. Ghost is on his feet in moments, by her bedside. "It'll be five years in...what, a month?" She cracks an eye open, giving Simon a tired, smile.
"Two months." He corrects with a mutter, and Johnny looks like he might just collapse. "Sitrep?"
"We're not on the field anymore." She groans, pushing herself to sit up. Ghost's hands fly to her immediately, helping her sit up. At his blank, insistent stare, she relents with a deep sigh. "My head's killing me but other than that just a few scrapes and bruises." Her hand travels down to grab his at her shoulder, squeezing briefly.
"I'm alright." Her voice turns into something soft and reassuring, and it's only then that a quiet, shuddering breath comes out of Simon's lungs. "I think I'll sit to working from the inside though." She jokes weakly. "Leave the dirtier work to you brutes."
It lightens the mood as intended, eliciting a snort from Gaz. "Yes, ma'am."
He'd make sure she got checked out properly when they landed, but for now he takes his place sitting beside her. The others fall into a hushed conversation after a while, but he makes no move to join them.
A warm hand intertwines with his, hidden beneath the bulk of their combined gear.
"I'm alright, Simon." She mumbles, just loud enough for him to hear.
Simon squeezes her hand in response. "Fucking hell, love." He breathes.
And it's enough to convey everything he's thinking. Humming, she tips her head against his shoulder and lets her eyes slip shut. The warmth of his body, even through the tang of copper is enough of a familiar comfort to drain the tension from her body.
She's fast asleep against his shoulder a minute later, and the devil himself couldn't make Simon move lest he wake her now.
He wasn't a publicly affectionate person by any means...but he trusted his team enough for this right now.
Letting his own head press against the metal wall behind them, his eyes shift to meet Price's. A softer, knowing look from the Captain is all he needs to hook his chin over her head and turn his attention outside the small window.
And if he counts her breathing while she sleeps for his own peace of mind? Well, that's no one's business but his.
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(10/09/2023)
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Truth or Eat | Chris Sturniolo
Chris Sturniolo x reader
Summary: Where Y/N participates in the TRUTH OR EAT video from behind the camera.
Warning: None.
Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.
༻✦༺ ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺
"What's the most romantic thing you've ever done?" Matt asked, taking his eyes off the open black notebook in front of him and focusing them on Chris, his hands playing with the green highlighter.
Chris let out a breathy laugh, looking beyond the camera, his blue eyes meeting Y/N's, who smiled, raising her eyebrows, awaiting her boyfriend's response.
"I think there are two most romantic things I've ever done, both obviously with Y/N, since she's the only girlfriend I've ever had. I know you only asked for one, but I can think of two with different spheres." Chris began, looking at Matt momentarily, who nodded.
"Hurry up Chris." Nick ordered with a smile on his face as he took Matt's notebook, already anticipating his brother's response. Being Y/N's best friend, he had inside information.
"The first was last year, when Y/N and I completed three years of dating and I gifted her a trip for both of us to Italy." Chris smiled big, his eyes shining as he counted while Nick and Matt looked at him with matching smiles, happy for their brother's happiness. "She always dreamed of visiting Italy, it being her favorite place in the world, and when the three years together came I thought this was the ideal way to celebrate. I really wanted to see her happy and achieving her dream."
"I remember that, it was the longest the three of us were apart from each other because you were there for seven days." Matt commented, nodding his head.
"Yes, I remember Chris planning the entire trip. We went to that travel agency with him and helped him choose the perfect package with the best hotel and best tours. It was like a honeymoon without a wedding." Nick continued Matt's reasoning.
"I was so nervous when I went to give her the envelope with the plane tickets, I don't know why, but I thought everything was going to go wrong." Chris said, rolling his eyes when Nick and Matt started laughing, commenting that they remembered all the times he asked if it was good enough or if they thought Y/N would like it.
The girl smiled big behind the camera, her eyes lit up with happiness as memories of the trip flashed through her mind.
"So I think that's one of the most romantic things I've done for her, and the other one I didn't even realize was that romantic until Y/N pointed it out to me." Chris began, gesturing with his hands, organizing the mess of tacos in front of him. "She has a horrible habit of tying only one bow on her sneaker, which makes the shoelaces come untied more easily. Whenever we're walking together, I'm the one who notices the untied sneaker first, so I always stop her, kneel down in just one knee, take her foot with the untied sneaker and place it on top of my other knee, and tie the shoelace for her-"
Chris stopped in his speech when he saw Nick and Matt making exaggerated expressions of surprise and "dying in love", laughing together, making him roll his eyes and look at his girlfriend in disbelief, who laughed quietly, sending him a wink, causing a blush to grow on his cheeks.
"May I continue?" The middle brother asked loudly, looking at Nick and Matt with a bored expression.
"Sorry." The two said in unison, wiping their eyes from the tears from their exaggerated laughter.
"And also when Y/N wears high heels on certain occasions, whenever we go out of the house together I don't let her buckle her heels, I kneel down on one knee and buckle them for her. This is kind of an act of service but that she finds super romantic, and I realized that it really is when I saw that no couple around us do it. There are many more romantic things that I have done for her, but if I were to say everything the video would last more than an hour. " Chris finished, smiling broadly and holding up a tumb to the camera, blowing an air kiss to his girlfriend, who pretended to take it with one hand and put it in her pocket.
༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺
"Okay, next question, how long have you gone without showering?" Nick asked, glancing briefly at the question in the notebook before closing it with the highlighter in the middle, focusing his attention on Chris.
"Since almost four years ago I've been showering every day, Y/N rules!" Chris began, raising his arms in surrender. Nick let out a laugh as he looked at Y/N and saw her nodding quickly with her arms crossed.
Matt quickly looked at the girl when he saw Nick looking at her, laughing at her expression.
"Before I met my beautiful, perfect girlfriend, it was a weekend." Chris said, laughing as he mentioned his girlfriend in a joking tone.
"No, it was more than that. I know how long it was, let me answer." Matt jumped in, taking a sip of his soda when Nick told him to shut up, the sound of a low chuckle echoing faintly through the kitchen as Y/N tried to stop herself from laughing, watching the brothers bickering.
"I've already gone without showering from a Friday night until a Monday morning." Chris concluded, Nick muttering that he had already done the same. "Like, four days." He added.
"That example is less than four days, Chris." Nick commented while laughing, Matt following him.
"I'm a changed man, I don't do those things anymore." Chris said, crossing his arms and lifting his chin with a snobbish expression, increasing Nick and Matt's laughter.
"You men are so disgusting." Y/N whispered only for the three to hear, rolling her eyes.
Matt looked at her with an offended expression.
"Yeah guys, if I go a day without showering I'll sleep on the couch." Chris said looking at the camera as he opened the package of the next taco, putting an end to that discussion.
Nick passed the notebook back to Matt, starting the timer again so that Chris could go back to eating while Matt searched for the perfect question.
"The time is over!" The redhead announced, looking briefly at his phone screen while Matt closed the notebook, already with his question in mind.
"Okay, give me the inside scoop of the perfect Chris Sturniolo date night looks like?"
"What is this, Y/N who created my questions?" Chris asked after finishing chewing, letting out a laugh through his nose, his blue eyes looking briefly at his girlfriend only to see her with her arms raised in surrender as if she didn't know anything.
"Just answer the question Chris." Nick pressed, turning to face him.
"Can I give an example of a date I had with Y/N and we always do it again because it was really good for us?" Chris asked, arranging the napkin on the table as he glanced briefly at his brothers, who nodded. "Okay, I guess first I have to establish here that for me, when it's a date, it's literally a whole date day. On my first date with Y/N, I picked her up with an Uber in the morning with a bouquet of flowers since I don't know how to drive and I didn't want to bother Matt, and we had brunch at a cafe attached to a bookstore, because when we were getting to know each other she said that she really liked reading books and drinking coffee. Boys, understand one fundamental thing, listen to everything your girl likes and has to say, it will help you a lot and contribute to your relationship." The boy said, pointing to the camera as he said the last part.
Y/N felt her body heat up with shyness and love as she remembered that day, holding herself back from going to Chris to hug him tightly and shower his face with kisses.
"Afterwards we went for a walk around the city while we talked and I took her to a place where they only have those teddy bear catching machines, you know?" He looked at his brothers receiving nods. "And we stayed there for a while, where I got her a teddy bear, she still sleeps with it to this day."
Chris informed the last part in a whisper as if it was a secret, ignoring his girlfriend who rolled her eyes exaggeratedly.
"Afterwards, as we were still satisfied from brunch, I took her to an amusement park close to where we were and we stayed there for hours, we even had dinner there at one of the hot dog stands, I remember I bought her some cotton candy later and I will never forget her happiness because of it." He counted with shining eyes, rolling his eyes at his brothers who made gestures of vomiting. "And finally, I took her to a park that had a lake with ducklings and we walked around there and fed them for a few hours, that's where we also had our first kiss." Nick and Matt made air-kissing gestures, making fun of Chris, who pushed their faces with his hands. "That was my perfect date."
The boy finished, smiling big and taking the taco in his hand, ready to finish eating and start to ask Nick questions.
"You two are so disgusting." Matt said in a joking tone, passing the notebook to Nick, knowing that Chris would sit there.
Y/N smiled behind the camera, her cheeks already hurting from how much she was doing it, her heart warming up while hearing Chris talk about them with so much love, feeling like she could fall in love with him all over again.
༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺
Extra - comments:
"omg Chris seems like a really great boyfriend!!"
"they are so pretty together."
"one day I want to have a partner who cares about me as much as Chris cares about Y/N."
"the fact that he took her TO ITALY just because he wanted to see her happy 😭"
"Chris, the last romantic man on earth."
"the way he talks about her 😫"
"get married already."
"petition for Y/N and Chris to make a video talking about all his romantic acts ✏️📄"
#x reader#fanfic#fanfiction#chris sturniolo#love#matt sturniolo#sturniolo#imagine#sturniolo x reader#nick sturniolo#chris sturniolo x reader#chris x reader#christopher sturniolo#chris#oneshot#fluff#truth or eat#youtube video#chris sturniolo fic#chris sturniolo fanfiction#chris sturniolo fanfic#chris sturniolo fluff#chris sturniolo x yn#chris sturniolo x you#chris sturniolo imagine
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if you have strong mutable (gemini, sagittarius, pisces, virgo) placements then you NEED to write things down if you don't already. all those thoughts that constantly swirl in your head: the frequent tasks, goals, feelings, aspirations, opinions, etc - WRITE THEM DOWN. this is not only therapeutic & stress-relieving for you but almost necessary, or you're going to burn out and overload your own mind constantly.
when you bottle, or when you let plans, goals, dreams, to-do lists, projects, etc live solely in your head - you'll notice you can't sleep as well, it's harder to rest, your memory gets more foggy than usual, you feel burnt out and unable to connect, etc. specifically:
write down your feelings. this will be your ultimate (free) therapy. start to journal, write a diary. make a private twitter/tumblr where you spill your feelings, frustrations, thoughts. you will feel an immense sense of relief by writing or typing your feelings out - even if no one is reading it but you. mutable moons especially. our feelings tend to change rapidly, but it doesn't make them less valid. don't bottle out of the fear your feelings will change/you'll just "get over it"!! write it down and let it out!!
write! to-do! lists!!!!! these don't have to be for important things. you want to learn digital art? you want to study coding? you want to learn french? you want to re-decorate? you probably have a billion things you want to do, and then you get overwhelmed by the options, and do nothing. write down all the things you want to do. make a to-do list for these things. get them out of your head and somewhere permanent/physical. looking at the options in front of you will feel much easier.
make excel project trackers (you can even make these for to-do list items/goals/etc)! mutable placements have a tendency to start a lot of projects or tasks, and never finish any of them. make a simple tracker for all the projects you start. you won't forget what you're working on, and you'll be less overwhelmed trying to remember what you have going on (example of the one i always use pictured below)
talking out your thoughts and feelings is also very cathartic. make fake (or real, i support u!) youtube vlogs where you spill your feelings and talk about your plans, your day, what you have to do, etc. talk to someone you love and trust, vent to them about how things are; or about what you're getting up to. i find writing has an edge, because you can go back to it for reference (mutables tend to forget things easily) - but as long as you're getting the swirl of your mind somewhere outside of your head, you'll feel so, so much less stressed.
mutable dominants tend to constantly live in go-mode, we're restless and always doing something. we feel uncomfortable and sometimes guilty about staying still. our minds don't ever shut off. it's very important for mutable placements to learn how to rest, be present in the moment, and learn grounding. this can be done in many ways, but i've found personally that writing works best for me. other helpful practices can be: talk therapy, acceptance theory, yoga, meditation, hiking, camping, etc.
i also want to remind mutable signs: we change a lot. we have a lot of ideas. there's so much we want to do. we often feel like we have no path, no big goal; we can struggle with purpose as we don't often aspire for permanent things or "one big goal". this is NOT bad. there is nothing wrong with changing your feelings, your mind, your goals, your life path. you CAN do all the things you want to do! you have your entire life ahead of you! yes, you can learn all those languages. yes, you can have three different careers in your life. yes yes yes! don't listen to negativity from others. don't beat yourself up for not having one big goal like some people around you might. cherish and embrace all the things you want to achieve and complete (both big and small). learn to follow-through with and finish the things that matter to you (writing things down will really help with this, make action plans/steps - break everything down into smaller pieces). take the time to slow down and enjoy the moments as they come. you got this!
#like PLSSSS it is so important you all NEED to write/type your thoughts and feelings#talking abt them will make u feel amazing but writing them out will get them out of your brain#astrology#mutable#luna.txt#i love u mutables <3#this post was so scattered and random and all over the place in true mutable fashion#but im not editing it because this is for the mutables anyway and yall will get my scattered-ness#mine
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