#you know what. fuck it. i will post just the beginning of this fic and nothing else god bless
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BTS fic recs
I wanted to do this a while ago, but felt like I hadn't read enough, until I checked my likes and got a shock to the face lol. I wanted to give some recommendations of some fics (and a series) that I quite enjoyed reading, plus leave a small review because I feel like it's very underrated to comment on what you like something (people, comment more, I swear it makes a writer feel so much better than a like). There's the occasional spoiler in the reviews, so I recommend you read it carefully or just skip the comment ^^.
Dawning by @wintaerbaer JJK
summary: He’s never invited into your world during these late night sessions. You always push him away or ignore him. This is new.
warnings: heavy depictions of depression and panic attacks, a brief line where taehyung worries oc is s**cidal.
I really loved this fic. For a moment I thought it was some kind of two shot or something, but it only has this one part. Still, I felt the author captured the emotions very well. It felt so realistic that even I was worried when Y/N disappeared lol.
Bottle up old love by @wintaerbaer KTH
summary: Jungkook may have broken up with you a year ago, but that's not going to stop him from coming to your rescue when he sees you being cornered by a creep.
warnings: language, a short harassment scene at the beginning (nothing too intense), explicit content including: unprotected sex (DO NOT), fingering, praise kink, biting, marking, spanking, cum eating (sort of?), big cawk soft dom jk, cowgirl (yeehaw), creampie, cockwarming.
This fic made me remember why I love the exes to lovers trope. I loved seeing Jungkook as a tattoo artist, it's like, I don't know, so him, anyway, I loved it. I just found this account yesterday in the wee hours of the morning and I'm already loving it <3.
Cat-astrophe & Cat-enaries by @dumpywrites MYG
Summary: Your pet cat keeps going to your neighbor’s apartment and it’s a problem.
I fell in love with this Yoongi like you have no idea. When I just read the first part I was so eager to keep reading, seriously, I loved it, it deserves so much love.
Two Days by @dumpywrites JJK
Summary: He just wants you to give him two days. He'll take you on a few dates and you'll decided if you actually like him? Or not?
I live for Jungkook being simp of the reader, I feel it's so real lol. This fic made me feel so warm inside, it was too cute to read. It's kind of like my comfort fic.
S'more than friends by @borathae MYG
Warnings: subby!Yoongi, switchy!Reader, consumption of beer, so much awkward tension, jealousy, sex in a tent, mutual masturbation, handjob, fingering, making out aye, Yoongi loves her boobs and she loves his butt it’s a win-win, sex while other people are sleeping, public sex, she has a thing for his hands (but what’s new lmao), fluffy post-orgasm talks because I’m soft.
I read it a while ago now, but I remember when I did I felt so soft. This Yoongi is just too cute.
Please don't go by @httpjungkookcom JJK
Summary | Jungkook’s never kept anything from you, ever. Not even the time where he tripped and accidentally kicked your dog, or when he fucked the most popular girl in high school and couldn’t make himself cum (poor guy was embarrassed for weeks), or when he accidentally rubbed all of his acceptance letters in your face without realizing. To put it short, Jungkook is an open book to you. So when he suddenly disappears, there’s a lot to question. Even more to question when he finally gets back and won’t tell you anything, going as far to avoid you. You’re on a mission to figure it out, even if it kills you.
Index | Jungkook is so smart, but so stupid at the same time. Jungkook is not sly in the slightest. Kind of angst, fighting, arguing, bickering, etc. Criminal activity, it’s a Spider-Man fic. Injuries and mention of blood. College setting and age, reader and Kook share the same major. Some cute fluffy moments in between all of the action. Aunt Yoon is essentially Aunt May in the Marvel story line.
Spiderkook, is more needed to read this fic? It was the first one I read about this au and I was WONDERED. God, you can't imagine how much I loved it. I thought it was so cute the way Jk approached reader being in his suit….
Accidental roommates by @jjkeverlast JJK
summary: moving apartments is stressful and difficult enough as it is. all the planning and packing and multiple moments of rearranging furniture; all you crave is peace.
yet it seemed like peace was far within reach as the owner of the apartment had left out one tiny crucial detail from the ad — a ripped tattooed adonis, coupled, with a tiny baby daughter will come as your roommate.
warnings: second hand embarrassment | jungkook's abs | annoying antics | suppressed feelings | both of them are stubborn and petty (it's gets tiring lmfao) | mentions of past relationships | a lot of time stamps | sexual tension | ft. namjoon 👀 | !constant change of perspective between reader and jungkook.
I have a tremendous weakness with dilf, no matter who it is, I just love them. I think this was the first one I read by Jungkook. It was so fun and easy to read that the 14.7k words flew by for me.
Silk & Stones by @taegularities KTH
Summary: “Taehyung was a writer… he was a writer indeed.” Kim Taehyung knows his way around words – they cast a spell on your heart and mind, leave you gasping dangerously fast. Until the mystery behind his persona unveils and his touch, along with his words, becomes a vivid memory.
warnings: writer + violinist tae 🥺 who’s a gentleman in the 19th century, brief mention of injuries/a mental institution, misunderstandings, heartbreak, secrets, grief, much poetry (and my attempt at writing a poem, pls spot), much disgoosting fluff, flirting and lots of sexual tension; explicit sexual content: 2 sex(y) scenes, fingering on a boat, choking, teasing, begging, praising, soft dom!tae, big dick!tae, tiddie fondling/sucking, some manhandling, dirty talk, they’re just so cute :((, oral (f. and m. receiving), some masturbation, oc is into neck kisses, some biting, fingering, hair pulling, asking for permission :(, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex (it’s the 19th century...), aftercare; there’s quite some angst ok; lmk if i forgot smth !!
This was a work of art for me. I felt so immersed in the story, so confused by the time changes and everything surrounding Taehyung, but I loved it, one of the best stories I've read of Taehyung since I joined tumblr.
17 going on 27 by @hansolmates JJK
summary; one second, you’re sobbing at prom because the most popular guy in school dumps you due to your relationship being a little prank to break your heart. the next? you’re a creative editor at Ego, the hottest young adult fashion magazine. as you try to figure out what’s the deal with this sudden time skip into adulthood, you come across relationships and friendships that are made to be cherished and made to be broken.
genre/warnings; fluff, crack, future enemies to lovers, teenage and adulthood angst, time skips from high school!au to late twenties!au, 13 going on 30!au, all your romantic movie tropes come to life! a really big mess honestly, various movie and music references, mentions of sex, use of alcohol, everyone give jin and jimin a big ol hug, language, a surprise guest from the queen of england.
I love adaptations, especially ones that add their own touch, and the writer did it so well. She made me hate Jungkook, and then love him, and then hate him again, in the end I ended up resenting him, I wanted reader to stay with Jin lol, but I still loved it. Definitely my favorite part was having Jimin as a best friend, I loved watching him take on Jungkook in the car. We all need a friend like him.
Hot Bot by @httpjeon JJK/PJM/KTH/JHS
JJK: You order a sex robot online after getting a coupon for half off. however, there’s something strange about yours.
PJM: Fear is primal and causes one to make stupid decisions.
KTH: Your parents have a gift for you, however, there’s been a mistake.
JHS: As a product tester, you have one of the most sought after temporary positions in Hot Bot Inc.
This is a series that has smut, I think the name gives it away. It's rather sad that the writer is on hiatus, but he left the gems of his works open to the public. The series is pretty good, I fell in love with Jungkook (and Yoongi kskjdsksjds). Highly recommended.
The proposal by @hansolmates JJK
summary; Jeon’s the editor-in-chief for Big Hit Publishings, a closet romantic with a penchant for antagonizing his assistant on the reg. When his work visa is in the process of being renewed and he takes a trip to Norway, his eligibility to stay in America is on the line. However Jeon Jungkook doesn’t go without a fight, and in order to save his job he offers you a proposal you can't refuse.
genre/warnings; the proposal!au, fake marriage au, enemies to friends(!!!), friends to lovers, bouts of flangst, dry humping, slight blood but not too bad, lang, alcohol, poor jjk discovers he has the ability to feel emotion, poor y/n is in the middle as always.
I was looking for an adaptation of this movie for so long that when I found this one I almost cried with emotion. I LOVED the movie and the concept it had, and I was so happy to read this fic that captures that very romcom essence that the movie has. I loved it.
Marshmallows and report cards by @untaemedqueen KTH
Warnings: Impreg Kink, Marking, Cunnilingus, Fingering, Birthday Sex, Spitting, Begging, Praise, Fellatio, Face Fucking, Big Dick!Tae, Multiple Orgasms, Unprotected Sex, Possessive!Tae, Cock Warming, Creampie.
I already confessed, this kind of fics get to me. I remember reading it and melting with the ending. I read it a long time ago, so I can't give a longer opinion, but I do remember that I loved it and came out internally squealing after I finished it.
Orange tulips by @kainks JJK
Summary: You’d remember Jungkook with every life you lived. Only he’d never remember you, never recall how your fates were written in the stars since the beginning of time.
Genre: Angst. Fluff. Light Smut.
The anxiety and helplessness I felt reading this fic are on another level. This scarred me, I read it once and I was never the same person again. It was wonderful, I felt so many things and I was so nervous during the whole reading that I almost didn't even realize when it was over. It is a very enjoyable fic.
What if I love you too much? by @taleasnewastime
Summary: Jungkook. It’s only a name you learn after your son kicks his ball over the fence. Before that you only knew him as the hot new neighbour who mows his lawn topless. And though you have no intention of getting to know him anymore than that, inevitably you do. You don’t necessarily fall, it’s too slow for that, but you definitely develop feelings you don’t intend to feel. Because you know men like him, and you know that whatever you’re feeling, he’s probably not feeling the same. All the same, however hard you try, you can’t help yourself.
Warnings: Single mum, small fights, explicit sexual content, oral (f receiving), safe penetrative sex, reader thinks Jungkook is cheating/playing the field, angst, but also fluff, child gets injured (though not seriously), talks of cuts and a small amount of blood.
This fic left me feeling bad, it even made me question some future decisions regarding my relationship with my future partner and the necessary communication that must be had in a relationship from the beginning, especially if there is a child in the middle. It was something I really enjoyed reading, and even though I had my internal dilemmas with Jungkook, the drabbles in the story helped me a lot to let go of my grudge (I swear I have nothing personal with him sksjkajskajsj).
#bts x reader#bts x you#bts fanfic#fanfic#bts imagine#bts x fem!reader#bts x y/n#fiction#bts x oc#taehyung x reader#taehyung fluff#taehyung#taehyung smut#taehyung x y/n#taehyung x you#taehyung x oc#jungkook smut#jungkook fic#jungkook imagines#jungkook fanfic#jungkook x y/n#jungkook x you#jungkook x reader#jungkook x oc#jimin x female reader#jimin x reader#jimin x you#jimin x y/n#jimin x oc#hoseok x reader
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Can you do a longer brat tamer fic between YN and Charles Leclerc?
Tears Look Good On Her | C.L16
Summary: You love it when Charles reminds you who you actually belong to. You're all his, yet you just want to push his buttons. You want him to show you, you belong to him.
Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Degradation, Brief Mention Of Dacryphilia, Slut Shaming, Spit Kink, Choking, Face Slapping, Spanking, Dumbification, Hair Pulling, Orgasm Denial
"Can you at least behave for once?" your boyfriend, Charles asked. His jaw clenches firmly when he sees you wear a sheer black dress that looks pretty slutty on you. It showed all the curves on your body perfectly. The dress wasn't really covering anything. If you wore it just for him, he would have been completely aroused by that. But, you didn't wear it 'just for him'. You wore it for the house party you and Charles threw.
You know that he hates it when you wear clothes like this in front of other people. He wants his girl all by himself. All by himself. No one deserves to look at his girl. Everyone should fucking know that, you're all his. You are all fucking his. You fix your hair the last time, getting all set for tonight and look at his reflection on the bathroom mirror, "What do you mean, baby?" you ask him, acting all innocent, as if you don't know what you're doing to him. Charles walks closer to you and wraps his hand around your neck, leaving a little space for you to breathe. You smirk softly, feeling his grip get stronger and his jaw clench more,
"You think you can just act like a dumb slut? You think I don't know that you're doing this on purpose? Obviously you wore this to show everyone at the party your slutty body. But, I think they know very well who owns this pretty little slut. So, just stop playing or else you know what happens, sweetheart." he stated coldly.
His words made you already weak for him, but you can't stop already. You need to push his buttons more. This is just the beginning.
Read the whole 2.0k fic on my Patreon!
A/N: The longer version of brat tamer fic is available on my Patreon. Join my Patreon, I'll be actively posting there. At least 5-6 fics monthly. And, thank you @idkwhatimdoinghere1655 for helping me out although you had a tiring fucking day. Anyway, requests are still open. I love you.
#charles leclerc x female reader#f1#f1 x you#f1 x reader#formula one#f1 imagine#f1 smut#f1 x female reader#f1 x y/n#formula 1#f1 fanfic#charles leclerc smut#charles leclerc#f1 fic#formula one imagine#formula one fanfiction#cl16 x y/n#cl16#cl16 x reader#cl16 imagine#cl16 x you#cl16 one shot#forza ferrari#scuderia ferrari#formula racing#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc 16#charles leclerc x reader#f1 2024#ferrari f1
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ಣ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ YOU SAID FOREVER, OKKOTSU YŪTA
yūta’s never been one to back down easily. especially not after you told him you’d be together forever. soulmates. you can’t expect him to just let you go.
summary. fem reader. yandere yūta. ex-boyfriend yūta. obsession. manipulation. stalking. yandere themes. dubcon. exhibitonism. dry humping / grinding. breath play - he puts his hand over your mouth. alcohol mention. previous fwb mention (not yūta). aged up characters. wc, 4.9k.
note. repost, the first yandere yūta fic i posted :)
this was not your preferred way to get over a failed relationship.
you grumble to yourself as you rest in the kitchen of the party your friend maki dragged you to— you know she meant well, opting to get you out of the house rather than letting you sit alone feeling sorry for yourself. but honestly, at this point you don’t know what you’d prefer.
the atmosphere in here is buzzing, full of intoxicated bodies with red plastic cups in their hands and loud music blasting through the halls of the house. the liquid in your own cup is a little questionably coloured— something maki had mixed, although bartending was never her strong suit— but you still grit your teeth before bringing it up to your lips and knocking it back anyway.
the concoction hits your taste buds immediately and you try not to gag as you swallow it quickly— feeling the burn set fire to your throat. you cringe at the drink, but honestly you need to loosen up somehow.
it’s not that you were heartbroken over your situationship, he had simply been something to pass the time. he was handsome enough, a good fuck and a decent guy— he helped you forget, which was really the main focus and reason behind spending so much time in his presence. but you still think it’s annoying that he just disappeared without a trace, not even shooting a quick text like hey, thanks for sucking my dick so many times, it’s been fun.
you find yourself rolling your eyes again, before you’re pulling your phone out of your back pocket to check the notifications, huffing when it comes up empty apart from a few instagram story updates and spam emails.
now you’re alone, you’re only stuck with the memories you try hard to swallow down, they still sting a little— ache across your chest and you find yourself shaking your head side to side like it’ll rid you of them, even just for a few hours.
“hey, quit feeling sorry for yourself! you gonna mope around all night?” you’re thankfully snapped from your own thoughts when maki wraps her arm around your shoulder, letting a fair amount of her weight lean on top of you until you’re both stumbling slightly. but she manages to steady you as she sends you a frown.
“i am not moping.”
“you’re totally moping.” your bestfriend sighs before she takes another swig of the drink that’s currently swaying a little too much in her other hand, and you’re glad that she’s atleast strong enough to keep you both upright despite being the one about to take you down.
“loosen up a bit, relax~ he’s just a guy.” she tries again, but you can’t help the way your body seems to stiffen with her statement, she feels it too,
“it’s not about the guy.” but still you’re quick to reply, brushing it off as you let your eyes roll slowly over the crowd of people shoved around the kitchen island. a lot of them pre-occupying themselves with different things such as raiding the fridge, setting up beer pong and—
“it’s not about that guy, but it’s about a guy.” maki’s words are matter a fact and you know she’s right despite the way you wish she wasn’t. it’s not about your failed situationship but the one that came before that, the one you’re trying to forget. you shoot your bestfriend a glare, and she pulls her arm back from its place over you before she’s squeezing at your shoulder, sending you a reassuring grin as she backs off.
“gotcha, let me grab you another drink. stay put.” she knows you better than anyone.
it only takes a few minutes before you begin to finally feel the affects of your last drink, you’re not quite where you want to be yet but you feel a little hazy— a little softer as you let yourself float around the room in your own blissful trance.
although you can’t help but feel like someone’s eyes are on you, feeling goosebumps burst along your skin every so often— like when you almost bump into someone or you’re helped by a stranger when you stumble. their hands will be on your skin to steady you but your gut is screaming for you to look over your shoulder, but there’s never anyone there when you do— not paying enough attention to you atleast.
maybe the alcohol is just making you paranoid.
you find yourself fading in and out of conversations, not really absorbing any information as you sway from your place between panda and inumaki. they’re talking about something you can barely make out, a little too enthusiastically as your eyes scan the room again— wondering where the hell maki is with your other drink.
inumaki moves slightly, waving at someone from across the room and you can’t help the way your gaze follows the movement— blinking slowly until you feel something twist in your gut. you catch a glance at a familiar looking figure, hair pushed back into a relaxed sort of style and a gaze that feels like it cuts through you.
it can’t be, right?
you don’t cast it a second glance to check when it makes you stumble back, because you already find yourself pushing your way out of the room as it suddenly becomes a little harder to breathe.
it’s warm and stuffy, sweaty bodies cramped together in the hallway but you’re drowsy and most likely hallucinatingat this point, atleast that’s what you’ve convinced yourself as you round the corner. you’d make your way to the bathroom, but when you see a considerable amount of people already queued up and looking like they’ve been waiting too long already, you opt to push your way into the backyard instead.
you're thankful for the decision, when you finally push your way into the dimly lit garden— sighing when you feel the cool air roll over your shoulders in waves and it has you taking in a deep inhale.
it’s quieter out here, the music is more of a faint sound that only fades even more as you take a few steps deeper onto the grass— letting yourself bask in the glow from the moon and the fresh air. the backyard wasn’t big, it was only littered with a few plant pots and a single bench— there was a corner to the side that led to the gate and the back entrance to the house, and plot of grass in the middle.
but it was small enough for people to very rarely want to come out here, especially at a party and you’re pretty sure the smokers have opted for out the front when you hear the faint chatter of voices over the fence.
you like this though. another slow breeze pushes through you and despite the haze of your mind, you let your head fall back as you sway with it, letting your eyes rest closed. you almost forget about the whole reason you were seeking the outdoors in the first place,
almost, because it’s only a few beats later when your peaceful alone time is interrupted by the soft sound of the back door closing behind you. your eyes are suddenly wide open despite the way you don’t dare to look behind you just yet.
you find yourself listening, intently— hoping that maybe it was just that same breeze that was to blame for it. maybe some drunk party-goer stumbled into it and didn’t realise you were out here, it was dark after all. yeah, you were just being paranoid. so you let yourself exhale the breath you didn’t even realise you were holding before you perk up and go to turn again.
“you’ve been avoiding me.” the words are low, but they take a soft sort of lull that makes your movements halt mid turn. your eyes are wide and something familiar to a shiver seems to race it’s way down your spine before you’re easing your head in the direction of the sound.
“you know why that is, okkotsu.” your words come out a little harsher than you intend them to, and you watch the way your ex boyfriend picks up on that too as he shuffles on his feet. his brows furrow and he bites on the inside of his cheek as he looks away from your gaze.
okkotsu yuuta was your ex boyfriend and the reason you were even in that stupid situationship in the first place. he was overbearing and protective, to the point where you couldn’t even go on a study date with a classmate without him bumping into your boyfriend in the library and suddenly they’re requesting a new project partner. everyplace you ever went to without him, he always seemed to end up there anyway.
although if you asked him, he would deny that you guys were broken up in the first place. he would always rather say that you just needed some space, you just needed a little time to relax but you’ll come back to him because you said you were soulmates afterall. why wouldn’t you?
which is why, yes you’d been trying to avoid yuuta— tryingbecause he always still managed to find his way to every, single party you attended anyway, insisting that he was there for you, because he’s your date. you’d been avoiding this confrontation since the last one, and the one before that. you’d changed your phone number, but he knew your schedule, he knew the places you visited on your days off and the places he could find you because he knew you.
“baby, please don’t call me that.” his voice is tender as he takes a careful step into your space but he stops immediately when you meet him with a step back.
“i thought you’d be happy to see me. i’m here for you.” yuuta speaks again but he emphasises the way he says it’s all for you. like you’re making him act this way, it’s yourfault. you take another step away from him as you frown, opting to walk around the side of the house as you head towards the gate— you weren’t doing this right now. not tonight when you don’t have a clear mind.
you hear him call out a don’t leave as you retreat away from him, but it was always unnerving how quickly he seemed to move— feeling his hand wrap tightly around your wrist before your back is almost slammed against the brick wall of the house and he’s looming over you.
you hiss at the slight, sharp sting of pain you feel up your body at the impact and you hear yuuta gasp at the sound before his hands are reaching over you with a “sorry. i didn’t want you to leave me again.” but you’re quick to slap away his other hand when it reaches for your face aswell, earning you a pitiful, puppy eyed look.
“i’m not doing this tonight.” you try to argue, trying to shake his grip off your wrist but it’s tight, and you feel suddenly too warm underneath his stare as his lidded gaze crawls over your features. he leans into you, his free arm that’s now just resting in the air between you opting to rest against the wall instead as he keeps you caged beneath him. he’s close enough for you to smell the faint, familiar scent of his cologne.
“is it because of that guy?” yuuta asks, softly, like he’s sympathising with you— like it’s a touchy topic that he doesn’t want to bring up but it’s a question that fills you with unease when you finally find it in yourself to lift your eyes to meet his.
“what?” your words come out slowly, hesitantly and the dark haired male over you looks away as your gaze narrows, “how do you know about that?”
“hey, it’s fine. i don’t blame you.” a soft reply, like a lover consoling another— like he’s about to wrap you in his embrace and keep you there, but the smile he’s wearing is a little too happy for the subject. his eyes close with the close lipped grin as his hand squeezes around your wrist. like a reassurance— a reminder that he’s got you there. you can’t go anywhere else.
“you’re safe now. i got rid of him, we can be together again.” yuuta hums, like he’s being careful with his words— although he can still hear the way your breathing picks up. maybe if he leaned in a little closer he’d be able to hear your heartbeat, he wonders if it beats for only him. would you let him have it if he asked? he lets his hand against the wall fall slightly, resting on your arm as he strokes at the skin but the stare you’re giving him now is cold as he tries to soothe you with his touch.
“it was you?” your words are deliberately harsher now, sharper as you try to pull yourself from his touch but despite his appearance he was stronger than you’d expect. he doesn’t have any trouble holding you there as he tries to shush you, casting a few quick looks over to the gate to make sure you’ve not caught the attention of the people on the other end. it’s quieter now than it was when you first came out.
“he was in the way of our love.” this was okkotsu yuuta. he still remembers how upset he felt seeing you with that other guy, laughing and smiling so prettily when it’s only supposed to be for him. it was your fault. it wasn’t hard, he didn’t have to hurt him too much before he decided to give you up— to give you back, you deserve someone better than that. someone who would give up his life to keep you, and you have him for that already. you don’t need anyoneelse.
although he still had to teach him the consequences of touching what’s his. he’d do it as many times as he had to. they don’t stand a chance against him.
“i’m all yours remember. all of me. that means you belong to me too, doesn’t it? we’ll be together forever.” it’s unnerving how honest yuuta’s words sound, there’s no waver to them and his dark, lidded gaze is sharp as it holds yours. “you promised.” he brings your hand up to his cheek as he presses your fingertips into his skin, leaning into the touch but your fingers don’t stroke softly like they usually do. they’re rigged, stiff while your hand falls limp in his hold. you stare at him, and it makes him shift uncomfortably opposite you as he takes a loud swallow.
you can’t deny you feel scared, bile turning in your gut as you begin to blink a little more with your exhales but he picks up on that.
“i missed you.” yuuta tries again as his hands squeeze at your skin— his fingers around your wrist loosen slightly, but only so he can try to intertwine them with your own. he presses his chest into yours, pushing you harder against the brick behind you and you try to push yourself back against him as you huff.
“yuuta, stop it! are you crazy?” you try to argue because you’re mad at him, try to push against his chest but you can already feel the way his lips are grazing along your jawline, nibbling at the skin. his fingertips cold as they push underneath the hem of your shirt to touch your bare skin.
“sorry, it’s been so.. so long.” you shudder as yuuta breathes his words along the nerves in your neck next, fidgeting beneath him as he knocks your legs apart with one of his— pressing his hips into the space that’s left behind after, before they’re grinding into yours.
you’re breathing deep but yuuta’s panting into you like a dog as he ruts you into the brick behind you, it almost hurts with how it grazes along the bare skin he reveals. his hands are everywhere and you feel too hot for your skin, feeling the same bile rise in your throat as your eyes squeeze closed.
“please.” he gasps again, but the soft, pathetic little plea is cut off by the slam of the back door as you watch it illuminate the light around the corner. you feel the tension in your shoulders relax as you hear maki call for you, seeing what you would assume is her shadow fall out of the doorway a few moments later. it’s almost too eager, the way your arm shakes free to reach out, just as your mouth drops open to call back.
but just as your lips part, you feel the hard press of yuuta’s palm across your mouth— so fast and precise it almost knocks the air out of you as your head whips towards him.
“please. don’t.” he grits and you’re pretty sure if his hips weren’t pressing you into the wall right now your legs would’ve buckled entirely with the way they’re trembling. there was a few instances where he got like this, it was like a switch flipped and some dark aura that he kept wrapped away inside of him pushed its way to the surface. his lidded gaze feels like it cuts through you and you can barely breathe with how tight his grip on your mouth is as the veins in his hands bulge.
you feel yuuta press into you again, and you can feel how hard he is through the fabric of his slacks— accompanied by the flush of his cheeks as he suddenly avoids your gaze. he trembles over you, quietly grazing the blunt head of his cock between your legs but your eyes are still on the shadow of your bestfriend as she calls out another time.
your fingertips tremble as they reach out but your ex-boyfriend is quick to take them back in his own before you let them drop by your side again. your vision blurs with tears as you hear maki spit out a slurred curse before stomping back into the house, slamming the door closed just as loudly again before you’re wrapped back up in the shadows like you were before.
you feel lightheaded as yuuta’s fingers dip almost painfully into your skin, accompanied by the way you’re only left to breathe out of your nose right now because his palm is still tight over your lips. you try to speak, but it’s lost behind his grip and he’s so flushed and needy, he can barely hear you as he rolls his hips into yours once more— pulling a soft, dreamy whine from his lips that you cant deny makes something twist in your gut.
“i’m.. im sorry, ive just missed you.” he shivers over you as his thighs tremble at the feeling of your hips sliding along his. the look he gives you is lidded and dazed, clouded with lust as he pulls your hips up towards him, and you can’t help the whimper that would slip from your lips as he angles himself against your clit. you’re suddenly thankful that the sound goes lost behind his palm instead.
it’s insane the way yuuta moves you, dragging you along his own body as he takes control of you— making your body clap almost painfully against the wall behind you both. but you can’t deny how pretty he looks with his lower lip sucked between his teeth, his dark bangs falling slightly over his gaze as he blinks up at you.
his movements are messy and eager, like he’s trying to prove how much he’s missed you— how much he’s lovesyou in his movements. like all of those threats were acceptable, he really was just looking out for you and with every graze of his shaft along your clothed clit you consider forgetting about them entirely.
you did love him afterall, the chemistry was there— it’s evident in the way the feeling of yuuta’s body against yours is making the space where you both take a breath spin. maybe that’s why you’d been avoiding him, because you know you’d go crawling back as soon as you felt his touch, as soon as you heard his soft pants fall from his lips. that’s the reason, right?
your mind and willpower melting away with every quick shockwave of pleasure his thrusts send through you.
“shhhh, i know what you need. i always do, i’ve got you.” his lips trail spit along your cheeks as he drools against you, whimpering against your skin and it’s almost instinct the way your arms finally relax— instead easing their way to his chest to twist at the fabric of his shirt.
yuuta gives you a look as he inspects you, slowing down his needy grinds to a slow, seamless crawl— like he’s making sure you’re not trying to trick him before he finally releases his palm from your mouth. your lips part as you take a much needed breath, but your gaze is lidded and blown when it meets his, and suddenly his palms are resting on your cheeks as he pulls you in for a kiss.
“b-baby,” he gasps as he grabs at you, tongue pressing past the seal of your lips to graze against your own— messy and lewd, like a sweet little welcome home as his hips ruthlessly rut into yours. the push of your mouth makes him whine, his palms clammy against your skin as he drinks up every sinful swirl of your hips you offer him.
you’ve become so lost in your pleasure, your fingers move to twist in his hair and you feel yuuta moan softly at the sting before his jaw tightens. his hips continuing to move in sync with yours as a low, slurred praise pours from his lips like honey. he feels so lost in the familiar, silky grind of your clothed pussy. “feel—feels so good.”
“all mine.” follows after before he curses under his breath and you can barely hear him with the ringing in your ears. he’s rutting into you almost too desperately, you can almost feel every detail of his cock through the thin fabric separating you both as he mumbles messily against your lips, insanity intertwining with his lust. “you belong to me.”
“yuuta~ah!” you moan, so prettily that it makes yuuta’s pace stutter before he’s grabbing at your thigh to hike it up higher, to perfect the angle so you can feel him rub right between your clothed folds. he can almost feel you, his mind swirling with the thought of finally sinking into your warm pussy again— finally claiming back what’s his after you kept it from him for so long.
“i love you.” his mind and senses blur as he pushes love confessions between your lips, promises and threats that go unheard as you lose yourself in the pleasure between your thighs. “don’t leave me again. i won’t let you.” he gasps again, and you know he’s close when he pulls away to nuzzle into the crook of your neck.
the press of your panties against you feels damp and if it wasn’t for yuuta holding you upright you’d have collapsed entirely as you hold onto him for stability. your breathing is ragged but you’re just as fucked out as he is, trying to meet each of his needy thrusts with mindless little humps of your own as you both near your orgasms.
“t-tell me, please.” your ex boyfriend trembles as your body claps against his, desperate hands clawing at your bare skin as you feel the shaft of his cock throb against you— begging just as much as he is with every breathless plea he buries into your throat. “please, i need it. i’m gonna—“
“i love you, yuuta.” you moan, it’s whispery and choked off just as he angles his hips exactly where you need him too, and it’s enough to have yuuta curling over you as the words ring true in his ears. it’s instantaneous the way his orgasm feels like it rips through him, his hips jerking and twitching into you as he babbles out slurred and whimpered thank yous, and his fingernails dig so tight into your skin you’re sure they’ll bruise.
he continues to roll his hips into yours, prolonging his blissful state because you’re whimpering his name, grabbing at him as you chase your own high— grinding into the mess he’s made in his pants and it only takes a few more presses onto your puffy clit before you’re going rigid.
your lips part, but yuuta’s quick to meet them with his own as he swallows up your moans— keeping them for himself as he holds you steady through your orgasm. your high hits you so hard and good your toes almost ache with how tight they curl, insides begging to be filled as you pull at the man infront of you’s dark roots and he whines into your mouth.
it’s greedy, the way you both ride out your highs until you’re a mess of limbs and agonised moans. your kiss is prolonged until it’s lewd and messy, pulling away with a string of drool despite the way your still ex boyfriends grip is as tight on you as it was when you started. he won’t let you get away from him again.
although with your dwindling pleasure and lust, you realise the weight of what you just did when you feel yuuta’s eyes on you— gazing down at you all fatuous and adoring. you clear your throat slightly as you try to move, feeling the ache in your spine from where you’ve been pressed against the hard surface but he’s quick to let his hands graze up the skin— smoothing out the area like it’ll help at all.
although the touch makes you shudder more than anything.
“i have to go change. let’s go.” yuuta mumbles softly before his hand is intertwining with yours again, and you’re so aware of how tight his hold on you is that you know you’d have no chance to shrug him off. your lips part again, like you’re going to object and he looks at you— something a little dark twisting in his expression and it’s enough for you to suddenly forget how to speak.
another beat and he leans into press a kiss to your forehead, a whisper of a smile on his features before he’s pressing another to your lips after and sending you a soft, kind smile.
“i won’t let you leave me again.” and the confession makes your body betray you— maybe as a means of survival as you take a step in his direction on shaky legs to follow behind him,
“okay.”
love was like a curse afterall.
© gojoath. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.
#cw yandere#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#okkotsu yuta smut#okkotsu yuuta smut#okkotsu yuta x reader#okkotsu yuuta x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk smut#jjk x reader#okkotsu yuta x you#yuuta smut#yuuta x reader#cw dubcon
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Jealousy Jealousy part 2
hello everyone!! this is part 2 to my Melissa fic (the smut) that I finally decided to finish writing!! let me know what you think good or bad :) part one is on my page directly under this post (because I'm stupid and don't know how to link it to this post)
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Melissa's laugh fills the room and you think it's the most beautiful thing you've ever heard. A smile forms again and you look at her.
“Hmm?” she questions as you move your hands to cup her face and slowly pull her forward until her nose touches yours.
“I just can't help but think of how I'm falling for you” you reply with affection laced in your voice.
She wastes no time in capturing your lips again drawing out a hum of approval from you. Her hands roam until they are tugging at your shirt.
“Off” she commands. You slowly sit up practically throwing your shirt and bra on the floor.
Her eyes graze over your body but it's not long before she pushes you back down, this time with purpose. With one hand she grabs at your hair and pulls until your head throws back and you let out a low moan. She sucks and bites until there are deep purple spots along the side of your neck.
“Have to let them know you're mine.” is the only thing she says between her bites.
“Yours” you pant out “I'm yours.”
She groans in approval, your words clearly affecting her just as her actions are you.
She begins scooting back slowly while leaving a trail of kisses down to your right breast making your hips buck up into her in anicaption. “Please mel” is all you can get out before she takes your nipple in your mouth and gently starts sucking.
Her left hand untangles from the grip on your hair and works its way down to your left nipple which she rolls between her fingers, only making you buck your hips harder as you desperately try to find friction.
“Patience love, I'll take good care of you. I promise” she replies in response to your neediness, voice deep and laced with arousal. The sound alone of her voice like that could make you cum right then and there.
She lets your nipple go with a small and gentle bite to it and then slowly works her way down leaving a trail of kisses on your stomach in her path. Slowly, way too slowly for your liking, she discards your jeans and your underwear and levels her face with your now soaked pussy.
“Fuck.. so wet for me” she husks out and before you can come up with a reply she licks straight up to your swollen clit. You couldn't care to be quiet or bother to hold back your moans as she started sucking on the swollen bud.
“Jesus- Fuck Mel!” You let out and your thighs instinctively close around her head. With her hands she prys them open forcefully and lifts your legs over her arms as she nuzzles her face closer, licks becoming faster.
One hand tugs at her hair the other gripping at the couch to ground you. It's not long until your toes are curling and your legs start to shake. “Please Mel please, I'm so close please don't stop”
Her only reply is to untangle one of her arms that was holding open your legs and move her fingers to your entrance. She held her hand there and raised her head ever so slightly to align her eyes to yours, silently asking if it was okay, but never stopping her mouth from its work on your clit. You looked down at her nodding and that was all she needed as she pushed two fingers inside of you.
“Right there Mel, fuck, yes, please!” you moaned out as she curled her fingers inside of you.
With only a few short moments of the mix of her fingers and her mouth, you were dangerously close to cumming. “Melissa..I'm going to- Can I cum for you? Please? Fuck!”
She hummed her approval and that was all you needed before you came, letting out a string of curses as you came crashing down.
Melissa, smirking, crawled back up to kiss you again after you were done coming down from your high. “You did so well. Such a good girl for me” You couldn't help but moan again at her words. “Oh? Do you think you could go again?” she said in reply to your moan and her fingers began to draw circles on your clit.
You whine out at the sensitivity. “I know baby, but you can do it. For me.”
You blush at her words and your hips begin to rock back and forth at the building of your second orgasm. “Mel. Melissa. I- Fuck” is all you can say before you cum again.
“So pretty. So perfect. All mine” she whispers in your ear as you cum.
Melissa pulls her hand away, lifts her face, and looks down at you smugly.
“I'm going to wipe that smirk off your face Schemmenti,” you say as you lean up and push her down so the roles are now reserved with you on top of her.
Her eyes widen and you notice her blush and you couldn't help but form a smirk of your own as you help rid her of her clothing.
“Jesus Melissa. You're gorgeous.” you notice her blush deepens and quickly go to kiss her lips again. Your tongue enters her mouth and you earn a muffled moan from her. Breaking the kiss you move to attach to her neck leaving your own hickeys in your path.
“It's only fair they know you're mine in return,” you say against her neck giving it a kiss before trailing down to her thigh. “They won't get to see them all though,” you tell her just before nipping down on her inner thigh, biting and sucking harshly.
“Y/N. I need you” she moans out as she takes her hand and attempts to drag your face to her now dripping center. You couldn't make her wait any longer and you quickly take her into your mouth.
“Fuck you taste so good” you moan out and the vibrations of your speaking cause her to gasp and dig her heels further into the couch.
“Just like that. Jesus! Y/N it feels so good, you feel so fucking good”
You can't help but smile as you swirl your tongue against her clit, never stopping your rhythm.
Her hand still in your hair grips harder, pushing you closer as she cries out your name. “I'll cum I’ll cum please” she chokes out and it's the sexiest thing you think you've ever heard. “Cum for me Mel'' you break away to say before quickly attaching yourself to her again licking faster.
She moans loudly, so loud you're sure your neighbors will hear but you can't seem to care in the slightest. You don't stop until her hand swats at your head letting you know she's too sensitive to continue.
“Fuck. That was... Honestly the best sex of my life” she whispers causing you to giggle as you slide up and lay next to her. She turns over to look at you and tucks your hair behind your ear.
“For me too” you reply looking deep into her eyes.
Melissa grins and wraps her arms around you pulling you close to her.
“As much as I love being in your arms we will both feel shitty tomorrow if we fall asleep on this couch” you muffle out against her “Besides the bed is bigger and I don’t think I'm done with you yet.”
She laughs and in that moment you decide you want to hear her laugh like that for the rest of your lives.
“I like the sound of that” is her only reply as she sits up and pulls you to stand with her. “I'm far from done with you either.”
You can't help but grin. After all, you just got yourself Melissa freaking Schemmenti.
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Fleeting || A. Svechnikov
Author: Sydney / @sydnikov
Pairing: Andrei Svechnikov / fem!Reader
Word Count: 17.5k
Summary: Every moment with Andrei is fleeting.
Warnings: 18+ smut, unprotected p in v, oral (f and m receiving), cheating(?), toxic relationship, alcoholic consumption, angst, cursing, no happy ending, Andrei-is-a-dick™
A/N: For those of you who have already been following me, you might remember this post—that’s what this is based on :) This is also the longest fic I’ve ever written so that’s insane, but sorry not sorry. Get ready, this one’s gonna hurt 🤭
*Minors, you are responsible for your own media consumption. That being said, I will not block you for interacting with this fic or my blog, but always be aware of the content you choose to consume and the consequences it can have.
Andrei doesn’t love you.
It becomes clear for you months after you start fucking him on the side. His likeness for you is merely an obsession, something to have all to himself.
You’re his, or were his, and that’s how he saw you. Nothing more than that, or at least that’s the conclusion you’ve come to after months apart lets you reflect on your relationship with him.
Spending a lot of time in your head, you think. About him, his actions, why he couldn’t love you the way you love him.
He always held you close to him, one muscular arm curled around your waist while the other likely held a drink in his hand. He paraded you around like a prize, happy to show off the hot piece of meat he likely thought of you as at his side.
It was hard to reach him, literally and metaphorically. You had to stand up on your toes to reach his ear, and the power imbalance just by your height difference alone only made the whole thing hotter, merely one aspect of your relationship you never really could get over.
Every time you spoke it had him grinning in a way that made you think he knew something you didn’t. You’re already so shy, too, and it’s what made up your whole demeanor, what drew him to you in the first place.
He likes sweetness. Innocence, quiet—that way you couldn’t rebel. And he loved it when you doted on him. You did your best to be everything he wanted in a girl, too. Bold makeup, skimpy clothing, speaking only to him and him alone. Best of all, you didn’t question him. His actions, his decisions, why he’d sometimes go days without speaking to you but once he called you again, you would come running without hesitation.
It took you too long to realize that he only liked you because you were someone he could fall back on when the freedom of his escapades got too boring and he needed stability. The thing is that Andrei loved you being his, but he didn’t want to ever be yours.
And you know this now, you do. The moment you went no contact and left his apartment in tears, you were calling your best friend for support and to reinforce the fact that he is the asshole, not you.
Sometimes, though, you dream. Of his hands on you, his mouth on your neck, his thick cock pounding into you from behind. The toxicity of it all that, despite everything, felt so good because your emotions were always on overdrive when with him.
Mostly, you liked feeling desired. Nobody had ever pursued you the way he did, even if your body is all he really wanted from you to begin with.
It’s been months since you confessed your feelings for him and he told you to leave; months of you wallowing, going to work, meeting with friends for drinks as a shell of yourself because without Andrei, life suddenly seemed colorless.
You miss him. The excitement, the tension, the way he made you feel. And you pride yourself on being confident, but all self respect flies out the window the moment his name is brought up. It’s wrong, too, you swear you know this, and you imagine countless times telling him off, if you ever run into him again.
For treating you like a body to warm his dick, a soulless individual with no feeling… You’re reminded of the last conversation you had with him yet again, the one that ended everything. You’d been seeing each other for months when it occurred. Months full of Andrei and the rollercoaster of emotions he had you on.
To get to the end, though, you have to go back to the beginning.
It’s January of twenty twenty-three, and you’re freshly twenty-one and experiencing the world in a way you never could before. Riding the high of getting your first serious job in college, it took no convincing at all for you to let your best friend, Maria, convince you to go out on a Friday night to celebrate your blossoming lives.
“Who are we meeting there, again?” You ask, painting your lips a bright red in front of Maria’s full-body mirror. You’ve already started pregaming, and your head is starting to buzz in just the way you like it.
Your blonde friend is quickly curling her hair, despite the fact that she’s had hours to get ready and still procrastinated until you arrived at her apartment. “Some friends from work. You probably won’t know them,” She says offhandedly, finishing her hair in record timing before snatching up the two dresses she had previously laid out on her bed. “Should I wear this in black or red?”
Raising a brow, you question her wording. “Considering I don’t work with you, I doubt I would.” Laughing, you turn your head away from the mirror to examine the two dresses she’s holding up to her body. “Do the red one, it makes your eyes pop.”
Anything would look good on Maria, though. She has this timeless sort of beauty, a blonde, blue-eyed bombshell that has eyes turning her way wherever she goes. You’d be jealous if you didn’t mind her taking all the attention off of you, considering you’re nowhere near as bold as her.
It will especially come in handy tonight, too, since these co-workers of hers are ones you’ve never met before and you don’t exactly plan on getting too close to them.
“This is why I get ready with you,” Maria sighs happily, unceremoniously throwing the black dress back onto her bed. “Oh! I almost forgot, I have heels for you!” She’s then running back into her closet, ruffling through a box before emerging with a pair of bright red stilettos.
“What’s with the red theme tonight?” You giggle as she tosses the heels to you. They look expensive, a brand you don’t recognize written in cursive on the inside of the leather soles. Maria insisted you incorporate red into your outfit tonight, whether it be subtle or bold.
She eyes you from her position on the bed, somehow managing to zip up her dress one-handed. “You don’t watch sports by any chance, do you?”
Throwing back the last of a vodka shot, you wince before responding. “My dad made me watch baseball with him sometimes?”
Maria’s face lights up like she suddenly knows something you don’t. All she does is hum in response, biting her lip like she’s holding back from telling you something.
Or, you’re just drunk. You’ve always been a lightweight. “What?” You ask anyway, finally standing up as you adjust yourself.
The blonde walks over to you, fixes the creases in your little black dress and affixes you with an approving stare. “Don’t worry about it,” Suddenly, she’s whirling around to go back for her phone, which is laid faced down on the nightstand. “Ooh, I knew those heels were a good choice. You look so good!”
As she saunters back over, wraps an arm around your waist, pulls you into her side and poses for a picture, you forget all about the abrupt topic change and the fact that her red theme with questions of sports does mean something, after all.
Truthfully, you still can’t remember exactly how you got from her apartment and into a high-end bar you’ve only ever seen advertised online. Bits and pieces of an Uber ride along with downing more shots come to mind, but it’s all hazy.
You don’t really care to remember though, either, as Maria leads you through the crowded bar, arm linked through yours, with a purpose. The music is loud, so loud you think you can see the walls moving, but that’s also probably just your swimming vision.
“Here they are!” Maria is shouting over the noise, and you follow her gaze to a group of tall, imposing men surrounding two booths right by the bar.
“Those are you coworkers?” You ask, a little incredulous. Scratch that—very incredulous.
She sends you a mischievous grin. “I said friends, girl. Meet my friends!” That’s what gathers their attention, and you’re suddenly reminded that she’s just as tipsy as you right now, if not more.
Ah, fuck, you think as one of the men come over and pull Maria into a hug. He looks at you questioningly after they pull apart, and you send him a small, nervous smile.
Damn it, Maria.
“You must be the friend she mentioned,” He says, again looking to the blonde beside you for confirmation. “From college, yeah?”
That seems to snap Maria out of whatever stunned stupor she’d been in, and she tunes back into your conversation by, again, pulling you into her. “My best friend,” She swoons, and yeah. She’s definitely drunk now.
“Nice to meet you,” He’s chuckling, and seems to be familiar with her antics. “I’m Martin.”
You introduce yourself and shake his offered hand. “Any leftover shots, by any chance?” While taking the lead in conversation with people you’ve never met before might seem odd, you don’t think you can rely on Maria to socialize for you considering she’s already falling into your side.
“I can check, if you want to follow me—ah, shit,” Martin curses, suddenly, then quickly apologizes to the two of you before rushing over to a man with a mustache attempting to climb on top of a table.
“Interesting friends, Maria,” You say into her ear as you reluctantly follow him, keeping her close. “Who’s the one with the mustache?”
She seems to gain a little bit of her wits back to give you a description of all the guys within your eyesight. “The mustache is Seth, super friendly but also, uh… Super drunk. He’s Canadian.”
You’re not sure why you need to know his nationality, but she continues before you can ask.
“And you just met Martin, right? Yeah, he’s really nice. His girlfriend, Nykki, is gorgeous, they’re both from Czechia. Then there’s the really tall one, behind Seth? No, other side. Yeah, that’s Jesperi. A bit of a flirt even though we’re all pretty sure he has a girlfriend, but he still won’t admit it. He’s Finnish.”
Maria continues to describe a few of the others, but truthfully, you tune out after Jesperi because a man about the same height as the Finn is suddenly approaching the group, and looks to be the only one Seth listens to because that’s who gets him to crawl down from the table.
You don’t know why he catches your attention so suddenly, but something about him… He turns, and you’re able to catch a glimpse of his side profile.
Immediately, you come to find there’s no accurate word to describe him. His beauty simply transcends any compliment you could give; instead, you interrupt your friend from her spiel.
“Hey Mare, Mare—who’s that?” Slapping her arm, you point towards the now-laughing stranger. He’s looking around as he does so, which is when he makes contact with your starstruck eyes. He looks amused, then seems to recognize the blonde beside you, and then he’s cutting through the crowd to meet you.
Maria gives you a look before also spotting the approaching stranger, and a large smile lights up her face. It’s a smile you’re very familiar with, one that enraptures every man who catches a glimpse of her pearly whites.
You quickly come to the conclusion that this is why she was so eager to go out. She’s likely had her eye on him for a while, and you struggle to keep the disappointment from your face as she purrs his name.
“Hey, Andrei,” She says, a little giggly. “Great game today, you all played awesome.”
Andrei… You test the name silently, liking the way it feels on your tongue. He’s even taller up close, and you can see the muscle definition straining through the fabric of his shirt. He’s huge, and you feel incredibly small standing next to him.
“Thank you,” He replies, his voice deep. A little husky, definitely accented, but you’re not sure from where. “Who’s your friend?” He changes topic quickly, and those dark eyes are back on you once again.
Maria, as ditzy as she can be, does notice the subtle change in him. Andrei has never been overly flirty with her like she has with him, and she’d be an idiot not to notice the way his eyes were drawn to you the moment he spotted you.
She’s used to having all sorts of attention from the opposite sex, and the Russian hockey player is all sorts her type. It’s amusing though, watching how you melt under his gaze, thinks ‘me too’, and then decides to help you out.
“This is my friend from college,” She introduces you, says your name and watches as he takes it in like it’s very important information. Grabbing your hand from where it rests at your side, she holds it out to Andrei for you, snickers as you send her a glare. “And this is Andrei. He plays for the Carolina Hurricanes.”
This is why she asked you if you watch sports, you suddenly connect the dots. And why she was telling you where all these people are from. Her friends from work are actually sports players, and you understand why she didn’t say it outright.
These guys, they’re famous, right? Your stomach twists, and you suck in a breath as Andrei takes your hand. His palm envelops yours, and he brings it to his lips to press a heated kiss to your skin.
The greeting is outdated, but for whatever reason it suits him. You think the kiss is a promise, too, as his thumb swipes over the back of your hand.
“That’s hockey, right?” You intend to ask Maria, but you’re unable to take your eyes off of Andrei as he slowly lets go of you, like the contact is riveting for him, too. “In the NHL?”
“Yes,” He answers. “You don’t watch?” You’re not a fan like he’d expect. Strangely enough, he likes that you don’t follow them. It makes you all the more interesting, someone new to pick apart for his pleasure.
You flush, turning red under his unrelenting gaze. Suddenly, you feel out of place with your lackluster hockey knowledge. “Not a huge sports girl, unfortunately.” You say slowly, but he catches your quiet words anyway.
He’s already tuned into you—has made you into a new game to win, in his mind.
“I can fix that.” Andrei grins, and it’s almost predatory as he smoothly slides his left arm around your waist. “Do you mind if I steal her?” He directs his question to Maria, but doesn’t really give her a chance to answer before pulling you away.
Turning your head, you find her sending you a grin as she mouths something encouraging, holding up two thumbs-ups. She’s already decided that if she can’t have this sexy Russian, she wants you to instead.
“I like your heels,” His deep voice is in your ear, suddenly, and you take your eyes off of Maria to look up at Andrei, instead. “They’re the color of our jerseys.”
“Thank you,” You breathe, letting the warmth from his compliment wash over you. “Maria made me wear them.”
He clicks his tongue, like this information doesn’t surprise him. “She has good taste. Red is definitely your color.”
You flush again, finding that his eyes are already on you when you tilt your head up. Nobody has ever told you that before… Maria is always the one getting praise, not you.
The fast beating of your heart, shaky limbs and nervous breath, and you already know you’re falling for it. His charm, his looks, his confidence; it’s addicting, and you can’t force yourself to stop as you ever so slightly lean into him, letting his body envelop you.
Before you know it, you’ve arrived at the bar, and Andrei orders a drink over the loud bass that reverberates in your ears. It appears moments later - not fair - and then he’s sliding it towards you. You meet his eyes again as he smiles, raising a brow at your silence before he gestures to take it.
“For you,” He says. “Vodka cranberry. I have a feeling you like the fruity drinks, no?”
He’s right, as much as you hate to admit it. You’re not one for sipping hard, bitter liquor, even if it gets the job done. You’re not sure how you feel about him being able to read you so well, but you do like not having to carry the conversation.
“Am I that transparent?” You grin, though it’s laced with insecurity as you take a sip. It’s good, and helps calm your nerves.
“You wear your heart on your sleeve, malyshka. It’s not a bad thing.”
You wouldn’t know it then, but he already began patronizing you the moment you met him. The Russian language is full of double-meanings, and malyshka, little one, is rather mocking. For him to know you so well already was a good thing for him, but for you? Not so much.
Andrei sees right through you, and he has from the very beginning.
“You’re not American, are you?” You change topic, suddenly, using the unfamiliar term he used as an excuse. “Your accent, it’s foreign.”
“Net—no, I’m not. Most of my teammates are out of country.” He replies. “I’m from Russia. Just here to play hockey.”
“Do you like it? Here in Raleigh?” You ask, a pitiful form of small talk to keep this sudden tension at bay.
“I do.” He replies. “I like it a whole lot more now that I’ve met you, though.” And then he’s smiling again, a grin rather feral as he looks at you like you’re his prey waiting to be devoured. He’s incredibly smooth as he puts his hands back on you, one sliding around the circumference of your waist while the other brings your hand holding the drink to his lips, taking a sip from the glass.
Your eyes go half-lidded at the motion, and Andrei knows he has you—hook, line, and sinker. He loves this game, but he thinks he likes you a little bit more than that, too.
Not that he’ll ever admit it.
“You just met me,” You blurt, overwhelmed by the intensity of his gaze.
Andrei, to his credit, takes your nervousness in stride. He finds it cute that he has that effect on you. “And I like you,” He counters, flashing a dazzling smile. “You’re cute. Small, like kisa.”
“Kisa?” You try out the unfamiliar word, your attempt at a Russian accent definitely not as sexy as his.
“Kitten,” He translates. “Will you purr for me?” It’s so disgustingly cheesy you can’t help but grimace, and Andrei laughs at the look on your face.
He steps closer, even more than he was before, and the way he looks down on you only makes the difference in height that much more noticeable. He’s so big… Normally you’d feel caged, but with him it feels safe, and that’s probably a red flag you won’t discover until much later.
You struggle finding something to say, but he beats you to it. “I’d like your number, if you’re willing to give it.” And he’s so smooth, so conniving with the way he asks it because he’s not demanding at all, letting you think you have all the power.
“Okay,” You breathe, eyes widening in awe as you don’t even have the chance to pull out your phone before he’s sliding his own into your hands. “You can add your contact.” He instructs, watching you type in your information.
It looks informal, your first and last name in his phone like you’re merely a coworker. You’ll blame it on you being tipsy later, but you add a smiley face at the end of your name, hoping it makes you stand out. You don’t know how many girls he has in his contacts but you’re not naive enough to think you’re the only one.
You lick your lips almost subconsciously as you hand Andrei his phone back, and he zeroes in on the motion. Suddenly, he has the urge to kiss you, and so he does just that. It catches you by surprise, but soon enough you’re melting into him as one large hand cradles your jaw, keeping you tilted up to him.
Andrei tastes like sin, like temptation and all things bad you were told to never get involved in as a kid. A forbidden fruit, perhaps, and there’s even hints of cranberry left on his tongue to cement that fact.
“Andrei…” You hum in surprise as he deepens the kiss, his lips soft and heavenly. It takes everything in you to pull back, to separate yourself from the addicting taste of him. “Wait, I don’t, um—”
You pause. Andrei looks confused, perhaps a little alarmed as his eyes flit over your face. “You don’t… Kiss anyone?”
“No! No,” You lower your voice, not wanting to attract any attention. “Of course I do. I just, I don’t hook up. For fun. Ever.”
He frowns, like he can’t fathom the idea that you don’t enjoy sex with no strings attached.
“Really,” he says, not quite a question. “You’re beautiful, though.” The charm comes back full force as his hand comes to brush away some of your hair that had fallen into your face. “Surely you have suitors, no?”
Your throat tightens, and suddenly your eyes are glassy as he looks at you with so much reassurance and affection. “Maria usually gets the ‘suitors’, not me.”
“I don’t believe that.” He responds immediately, and he looks so sure of himself as his head lowers, his eyes looking back and forth from yours to your lips, and you’re helpless to stop him as the hand moving your hair comes to rest on your cheek.
It’s all very convincing, the sudden care and adoration… You’ve never had a man treat you so delicate, like a prized possession, and you fall for it all too quickly.
“Let me take you out?” He soon asks, and there’s nothing you can really respond with other than yes.
Everything happens so quickly from here. Andrei becomes a centerpiece in your life, and you’re helpless to stop it as you fall for everything about him. You don’t truly become his ‘girlfriend’, but you are something more. Secret dates and midnight drives where no one can see you confirm that.
That’s why you think he’s finally turning serious about you when he shows up to your apartment at the beginning of March a few weeks before his playoffs start. He holds a large bouquet of roses, except your favorite flowers are gardenias because they remind you of your mom so your smile wobbles a little bit, but you let it slide for the romanticism of it all.
Andrei grins, the whites of his teeth blinding and he pulls you in and kisses the top of your head. He asks you if you’ll come to his playoff games, wear a WAG jacket and act as if what you are is official. You think you truly mean something to him after this, even though he never actually confirms it.
Suddenly you’re Andrei’s girl (but not really) and it becomes your entire identity. You essentially live with him as the playoffs come around, taking care of his apartment while he’s on the road. He talks of getting a dog over the summer, and you’re enthusiastic in your encouragement because you’ll have a friend to keep you company while he’s on the road.
His injury happens, though, and he’s out for good, at least for the rest of the season. You don’t know how to comfort him because your ‘relationship’ is so new, and it’s hard for you to understand why the anger at himself cuts so deep.
Ultimately, you fix the rough patch with sex. Lots and lots of sex. He works through his frustrations by taking you long, hard, and deep, mostly with him on top holding your throat while you take it like the good girl he tells you you are.
“‘Drei, your leg,” You remember saying to him one time as he slams you onto his bed, rolling directly on top of you. He doesn’t seem to hear you at first, too busy laying kisses to your neck.
“I don’t care.” He eventually responds, looking at you so darkly it leaves you shivering. He eats you out afterwards, and, well—you don’t have any more protests after that.
They win the first series against the New York Islanders in six games, and the moment the final goal is scored in overtime you’re jumping out of your seat along with the other WAG’s at one of their houses.
It’s exhilarating, rooting for something with every ounce of your being. You do it for Andrei - who still isn’t playing, but he was there watching - but mostly for yourself because you love the feeling of belonging to a community so close.
The second series ends sooner than the first, a five game victory over the New Jersey Devils, and this time you are at that final game. You sit with Andrei in a private booth at the top of PNC Arena, gripping his arm that also holds onto your thigh with the same amount of intensity.
The moment the final goal is scored - also in overtime - you’re hunching over your seat releasing a long breath. Andrei attempts to rise, then likely remembers his leg which forces him to grip the arms of his chair in strained acceptance.
“They did it,” You hear him whisper, like he can’t believe they actually came out of this series alive. “They did it.” He repeats himself, louder and more confident. You’re still folded over yourself, letting the anxiety drain out of you when he grabs your hand and tangles your fingers together.
“My kisa,” He says, waiting for you to turn your head so he can smile brilliantly at you. “We did it.”
“Not we,” And you grin back, because there’s nothing else for you to do but match his ecstasy. “You did it.”
“I didn’t even play,” Andrei is laughing, soaking in your praise like a sponge. “But I was here, wasn’t I?”
“You mean more to them than you’ll ever know.” More to me than you’ll ever know, you want to say, but hold back on that particular vulnerability.
After he finishes the team meeting in the locker room, you take him back to his house. He still hasn’t been given the all clear to drive, so you’ve taken up caretaker duties along with his mother.
You don’t think she likes you very much, either, but Andrei just says it takes a while for her to warm up to new people. Thankfully, she’s never around when you are though, because as you close the front door to his house he gives you a look equating to a meal he wants to devour.
Andrei seems to forget all about his knee, again, when he moves into you, pushing you back against the front door. “You drive me crazy.” He mumbles into your lips, and you don’t think you’re meant to respond as he moves to your neck.
You wore his jersey tonight, hoping it would bring the team good luck. You also happen to like how possessive he gets when he sees you in his clothes, especially wearing his name. It’s a little ridiculous, but you can’t lie and say you don’t love the attention.
Biting into your jugular, he tastes your rapidly beating heart before moving on, addicted to the sound of the moan that chokes its way out of your throat.
“I’m going to fuck you,” He breathes, massaging his hands into your waist as he pulls you away from the door. “And you’re going to love it, aren’t you? Because you’re such a good girl. My good girl.” His raspy voice leaves you holding back a whimper, and it’s hard to speak as he begins to sneak his hands under your jersey.
When you don’t respond because you’re too distracted by his hands, his damn hands, trailing up your ribs, he digs his fingers harshly into your skin. Your eyes snap open to find him almost glaring.
“Yes,” You think he wants to hear you say. “I’m yours.” You babble as his fingers let up, moving to cup your breasts over your bra as he pinches your nipples into hard points.
“That’s right,” He hums almost mockingly, hands now back to your waist as he pulls you after him to the path of his room. “No one else can make you feel like I do, yeah?”
This time he doesn’t expect a response as he pushes his door open, turning you around as you fall into his bed. Your head spins as the jersey you’re wearing rides up and Andrei quickly does the rest, slipping it off you with ease.
“Fuck,” You think he says, but you could care less as his bare hands are back on you, kneading the soft skin of your stomach and trailing back up the length of your torso. “No shirt underneath?”
“It was too hot outside,” You reply, breathless as you attempt to tug his suit and tie off, but that quickly proves to be more difficult. He tsks, thankfully deciding to aid you as he rids himself of his jacket. “You’re lucky that jersey is so thick.” He says, moreso to himself as he begins unbuttoning his slacks.
All that’s left is his undershirt and boxers, meanwhile you’re still left in your bra, jeans, and panties. Andrei must realize this too as he kicks his slacks off somewhere behind him. “Strip,” He commands, but you don’t need the reminder as you’re already one step ahead of him.
Your jeans and panties come off quickly, but it’s harder to remove your bra lying down. You eye the delicious specimen of a man above you, reaching out your hand for his own. “Help me?” You ask, biting your bottom lip before rolling onto your stomach.
Andrei mutters something behind you, but it’s clearly appraisal as the first thing his hands land on is your bare ass. He spends a few moments appreciating the view before his fingers trail up your back, unclipping your bra much quicker than you ever could have.
“You, kisa, are dangerous,” He teases, lowering himself to where his solid chest is pressing down on your back. He loves taking you from behind, tangling his hands in your hair while you’re left to his mercy.
He noses his way past your hair to reach your neck, lightly nipping the skin as you sigh, your head melting to the side so he can continue his ministrations.
“Andrei, please,” You hiss, the wetness between your thighs now too prominent to ignore. You wiggle your hips tantalizingly, hoping to catch his attention.
He grins into your neck, doesn’t respond as he presses a final kiss to your pulse point before pulling back, his right hand sweeping the rest of your hair to the side.
“You need me to touch you?” He asks, smoothing his left hand over your hip before slipping it to the inside of your thighs. His fingers find your clit, rubbing it ever so lightly to feel you flinch with sensitivity underneath him.
You tremble underneath him as he continues stroking you, and your hips jerk upward when two of his fingers slip past your walls and curl. He’s laughing as your ears ring, and already you’re so close to coming when his thumb rubs circles on your clit in time with the thrust of his hand.
Just like everything else about you, though, he knows; he knows and he pulls back before you even have the chance to swear because then the last layer of clothing between you is gone. His boxers are thrown somewhere behind him along with his undershirt, and now he wastes no time pulling your hips up, leaving your chest pressed into the bed.
So used to this familiar position, you look behind you in anticipation to find him stroking his cock, staring at your glistening pussy with barely contained arousal. You’re not sure what he’s waiting for, but then he’s sliding his free hand through your soaked lips to gather the wetness there, using it as lubricant.
“Shit,” He says, swearing more to himself before climbing atop you. It’s routine the way he grabs your hair, tangles it in his fingers while the other guides his swollen cock to your entrance. The bulbous head pushes into you with ease, finding no resistance as he sinks into you.
Andrei hisses, mutters something in Russian, then is lowering his head to press his lips to your ear. “Fuck, you’re tight. You just feel so good all the time, you know that, kisa?”
The only sound capable of coming out your mouth is a whimper as you bury your face into the sheets as his hips begin thrusting, hitting your sweet spot with bullseye accuracy each time.
The girth of him stretches you out deliciously, and it leaves your walls clenching and unclenching rhythmically in time with his movements. You mold to him like your body was made for him, like there’s no other way to exist without him taking you in such primal fashion.
Andrei’s head rests in the crook of your neck, murmuring indiscernible phrases while his hands trail up and down your body. His hips rut against your clit each time he thrusts forward, and if anything you get wetter at the thought of him fucking you so callously.
You feel like his most precious belonging sometimes, like an object. It can be disorienting when he talks to you like you’re a child, but when he fucks you it’s like that preciousness he views you with is amplified.
You flinch upward when his cock curves into you just right, and the way he coos into your ear to bring you back down only verifies that thought. He wants to take care of you, always—even if it demeans you.
Andrei suddenly rolls over onto his back, bringing you with him to where you’re the one on top with your back laying against his chest. He sits up, and now you’re in his lap, thighs spread to the side as he once again begins fucking into you.
Your mouth opens into a silent scream as your head rolls back onto his shoulder, the new angle forcing his cock into deeper lengths inside you, and it hurts but it hurts so good and why were you ever questioning how he treats you, again?
How has only one man ever been able to make you feel this good?
Euphoria floods your veins as his hands find purchase on your body, one taking your left tit and rolling your nipple between his fingers while the other sneaks down to the junction of your bodies and finds your clit, rubbing over it mercilessly.
When your stomach starts clenching and your lower spine tingles, Andrei is right back at your ear whispering encouragement. “That’s it, angel,” He praises. “That’s it. You want to come, yeah? Do it. I’ve got you.”
His name leaves your mouth as a breathless whine, and you struggle not to flinch away from his touch when it becomes too much but also not enough, and somehow he knows this and just holds you tighter.
When his cock hits you so deliciously good while his thumb swipes over your clit, you fall. You fall hard, the walls of your cunt seizing around him as ecstasy takes over your body. Sparks fly across your skin, stars filling the empty blackness behind your closed eyes and you think you’re sobbing Andrei’s name but you can’t be sure. The only thing you can be sure of is him; his cock inside you, his hands on your body, his voice in your ear, his teeth on your neck as he approaches his high.
Yours lasts for longer than normal because he doesn’t stop moving—if anything, he goes faster, because the sight and feeling of sending you into a spiral only triggers his own release.
By now you’re motionless, unable to even lift your head as it remains lying against his shoulder. Andrei’s thrusts are frenzied, more sloppy and less precise, until he’s throwing his own back with a long, pleasure-filled groan.
Eventually, he stills. His chest is rising and falling behind you rapidly, attempting to collect himself now that his mind is back in the present. You sigh, quietly yet happy, as his cock softens inside you but doesn’t move, his release slowly trickling down your conjoined bodies.
You suddenly remember that he didn’t lose a condom, but then you remind yourself that you’d stopped using condoms weeks before. You were already on birth control, and he assured you this was exclusive.
You were a fool to believe him.
Andrei soon moves, his hands taking to your hips as he gently lifts you off of him. “I know,” He says when you hiss with sensitivity. “I’ve got you, good girl…” He lays you on your back, and you don’t move from your position even as he leaves the room.
Your eyes soon flutter shut, and you curl to the side as the minutes go by with no sign of return. It’s not regret that fills your mind, no, but another emotion, something stronger than just satisfaction at getting such a pleasurable release.
You don’t dare to think of the world ‘love’, but maybe something similar to that is what you’re feeling?
It doesn’t help that just as you’re on the verge of falling asleep, Andrei comes back to your naked form while he’s now adorned in sweatpants. You merely hum as he sits on the edge of his bed next to you, one of his hands reaching out to trail up your arm. When he reaches your face he brushes away the hair stuck to your cheeks and forehead from cooling sweat, letting your skin breathe.
He says something, so quiet it’s impossible to hear over the sound of your thundering heart, and you don’t have the energy to ask as you finally succumb to exhaustion.
Andrei cleans you up after, dries the inside of your legs and slides one of his t-shirts over you. He tucks you under his sheets and pulls you into his arms, letting your hair tickle his cheeks.
The Eastern Conference Final arrives far quicker than any of you are prepared for, and games one and two against the Florida Panthers are full of anxious nail-biting and frustrated cursing when the puck hits the goal post.
Both games end in overtime losses, and the team has to play games three and four in enemy territory, down by two.
Andrei, understandably, isn’t taking it well. It's hard for the players on the ice, of course, but even harder when he has to sit at the sidelines, hidden in a booth at the top of the arena with you doing your best to comfort him.
“Why can’t they just fucking score?” You remember him hissing before the end of regulation in game two, not angry at his teammates but at the situation instead.
And himself, too, because he is the injured one. He is the one who tore his ACL making it so that he couldn’t play. It isn’t his fault, but it is at the same time and that’s what’s truly getting to him.
As the timer hit zero, he’d leaned back in his chair and grabbed your hand without thought, squeezing your fingers to the point of strangulation.
You let him, though, because at that point you’d let him do anything.
“I’m sorry.” You said, your eyes on him the entire time. It pained you to see him so miserable, and there was nothing you could do to make it better. “This isn’t your fault. It’s… Blame Bobrovsky, okay? He’s just too—”
You interrupted yourself, not wanting to say ‘good’ even if that’s true because you didn’t want to upset him with the implication that his teammates couldn’t be better.
Andrei, to give him credit, didn’t take offense. His eyes were on you the moment you started your ramble, and as you finally paused to gauge the look on his face you found amusement and unbridled affection in his gaze.
“Too good?” He finished your sentence, waiting for your meek nod of confirmation. Merely sighing, he only brought your intertwined fingers to his lips, pressing a kiss to the top of your hand. “You’re right, kisa. He is too good.”
You stay back in Raleigh while the team, including Andrei, takes flight to Sunrise, Florida. Most of the WAG’s stay back too, the majority already anticipating the result of this series.
Hours after the team’s flight, Maria calls you late on the eve of game three.
“Hey, Mare!” You answer, lowering the volume of whatever show is on the television to better hear her. “What’s up?”
“Hey, girl!” She chirps, and you can hear voices in the background so you assume she’s somewhere busy. “Just landed in Florida!”
“You flew to Florida?” You ask, choking slightly. “Since when?”
“Don’t you remember? I told you! The team needed extra people since we’re staying here for longer than a night.”
“Oh, shit, yeah,” Is all you say because you don’t, in fact, remember, and suddenly feel really guilty about it. You haven’t actually spoken to Maria face-to-face in weeks, having been caught up in everything Andrei-related.
You haven’t talked to lots of people you were close to before Andrei came into the picture, now that you think about it. It’s a problem you’re sure to reflect on when you’re done talking to your friend.
“...bunch of us are going out tonight since the game isn’t until later tomorrow night, including a lot of the team.”
Maria’s voice tunes back in, and you shake yourself out of your thoughts to catch-up. “Really?” You inquire, now suddenly interested. “Is Andrei going with them?”
You could ask him yourself, sure, but you don’t really talk about that stuff, what he does or what you do in your free time. It always felt invasive to ask because you weren’t quite sure if you even had the right to, considering the nature of your relationship.
You doubt he thinks about what you do when you’re not with him, anyway, so you always just assume you can live in the moment with him and have that be good enough.
“Dunno,” She replies. “Can’t you ask him yourself? You’re seeing the man, after all.” You can hear the smirk in her voice at the last sentence.
“Um,” You stall, because no, you can’t just ask. “He just got off the plane, I don’t want to bother him.”
“Mhm,” Maria hums, and you can’t tell if she’s suspicious or not by her tone alone. “True. I’ll just text you if anything interesting happens, okay? Sound good?”
“Sounds good,” You can’t help but laugh at her sudden hastiness, and soon enough she’s hanging up the phone with the claim that the team bus is there to take her to the hotel.
As your call with Maria is in the early afternoon, you have a while to wait before all night life in Florida begins, so any updates will take time to roll in. You know this, and yet you can’t stop thinking about it for the rest of the day.
Distracting yourself by shopping helps, as does meeting up with a few of the WAG’s for a late lunch. You’re able to put your anxiety in the back of your mind for the rest of the day, and as the sun sets you pull back up to Andrei’s house and let yourself in with the spare key given to you, mind at peace as you float around his living space in preparation for bed.
You almost considered his place your home now, rather than your actual apartment. You’ve been spending so much time here, with him and also alone as everything with him seems to be going so good… When you settle into his bed, wearing one of Andrei’s large t-shirts and boxers, you check your phone one last time for any updates.
There’s a few Instagram notifications, one or two emails from your university, only one message in the groupchat with the WAG’s, and a text from Andrei which is what you zero in on first.
Settled in the hotel now. Leg is hurting, so I’m going to bed early tonight. Text you tomorrow, okay?
There’s no silly emojis, no indication of any emotion in his text, and yet you read the message with a smile, insecurities officially gone. His teammates are going out tonight, not him, and you don’t have to worry about Maria texting you later because there would be nothing to update you on.
How could you have ever doubted him?
You fall asleep peacefully, unbeknownst to the fact that long after midnight, your phone begins blowing up with silent notifications from Maria. She does, in fact, send you updates of her night out, but not updates you’ll smile at when you wake up the next day.
Sunlight filtered through closed eyes is what has you slowly awakening to the world of consciousness, and you stretch your arms with a yawn before reaching for your phone first thing. It’s hot to the touch, and at first you attribute that to it being stuck under your pillow the entire night, but upon unlocking the screen you discover that that is not the case.
WTF did you and Andrei break up?????
He’s here with the rest of the guys and he’s highkey flirting with some randos???
I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you were done w/ him!
You’re prettier than them btw. I snuck a few pics
Several more messages from Maria have taken over your inbox, those are just the first you see. It takes your brain a minute to catch-up, but when it finally does you’re sitting up with bated breath as you tap on one of the images she sent.
It’s definitely Andrei—you’d know his face anywhere. He is, in fact, surrounded by girls in the picture, his arm wrapped around the waist of a gorgeous blonde with a drink in his other hand, and it’s so reminiscent of the way he holds you at clubs that you know, you know immediately that this is what you meant to him all along.
The affectionate name-calling, gentle hand-holding and constant touching… You thought he looked back at you like you hung the moon, but now you’re realizing that maybe you were just projecting the reflection of your own starstruck eyes instead.
You sit up in bed, hand pressed to your forehead as a sudden headache rips through your brain. What the fuck are you supposed to do now? Remembering that you’re actually in this man’s house, in his clothes, too, has you jumping up like you’ve been burned, and you quickly exit the bedroom to collapse on the couch instead.
“Oh my god,” You whisper to yourself, in disbelief as you click through more of the images sent to you from last night. There’s no denying to yourself that he was with these women, all while supposedly having a significant other waiting for him at home.
There’s no one to witness the slow breakdown of your sanity, and you can’t even cry because you’re so in shock about what you’re seeing
Is this real? Are you real? Is this really happening?
It’s almost like a switch in your brain goes off, and very quickly you drop your phone. You take a deep breath, you bury your raging emotions, and you stand up from the couch to start your day.
You refuse to allow yourself to break down now. Not when you still haven’t spoken to him. At the very least you’ll wait until you have an explanation…
To confront him on your very strong feelings you’ve been doing your best to ignore until now, because they’re too real in the wake of this discovery to just vanish away like you’ve done before.
You need to know where you stand with him. Truly, because these pictures you can’t stop thinking about? It’s too much. You can’t pretend it doesn’t feel like thousands of little knives stabbing your heart repeatedly even if it all means nothing to him.
Everything goes back to normal. Everything is fine. You never saw those pictures, ignored Maria's continuing calls and acted as if your world wasn’t suddenly tilted on its axis.
Andrei doesn’t text you at all throughout the day, which can probably be attributed to preparation of game three, but all you can think about are the girls he might be texting.
Because he certainly isn’t texting you.
Game three results in a loss, a bad one, and it would pain you to see the reactions on their faces filtered through the television if you weren’t so numb.
He still doesn’t text you. Doesn’t call, either, and Maria eventually gives up on trying to reach you as game four approaches.
The impending doom of Andrei bares down on you like a vice, slowly strangling you in the screaming silence of his house you still remain in. Maybe this is something you should have seen coming because it isn’t the first time he’s gone radio silent, you just assumed he was busy—because that’s what he told you.
You’re starting to think that maybe you shouldn’t have listened.
You love him though, right? That’s why you believed him? That’s what you’re feeling right now, why it’s like you can barely breathe when you think of his smile or the way he’s betrayed you so?
The Panthers sweep the Hurricanes, a complete four-game victory that sends Andrei and the rest of the team licking their wounds all the way back to North Carolina. You don’t watch the fourth game with anyone but yourself and a bottle of wine while catching up on homework for one of your classes.
Becoming so close to Andrei meant you became close to the rest of his teammates too, to the point where you’d consider some of them your good friends, so seeing their faces broadcasted live after the final goal is devastating to see.
Not as devastating as the text you receive, though, in the midst of trying to figure out what to say to him the moment he steps foot inside his house.
I won’t be home tonight, heading straight out with some of the younger guys. I will see you tomorrow
Well. You can’t say you’re surprised. You’re willing to bet money he’s out sleeping with some random girl whose name he won’t remember the next day. Instead of letting the anxiety take over, anger takes its place instead.
And boy do you run with it because anger is so much better than feeling powerless. It simmers in your blood, a wildfire settling low in your stomach until you’re practically shaking while waiting for Andrei to walk through the front door the next day.
When he finally does, you’re so mad you’re numb. Your anger has turned you into a ghost, an attempt at protecting your fragile heart from more heartbreak likely to fall upon you the moment he tries to charm you back into his good graces.
Once he spots you sitting on the couch, he smiles in greeting. It’s soft, and you’d like to say affectionate, but you no longer can tell how deep his feelings run for you.
Clearly, not deep enough.
“Kisa,” He says. “How are you? I’m sorry I was out late.”
“It’s fine,” You respond tightly. Andrei doesn’t seem to notice, merely nods before walking past you to the kitchen. You follow him silently, trying to figure out how to phrase your next words.
You end up settling on a subtle approach. “I’m sorry about the games… I know it must’ve sucked having to watch.”
He scoffs immediately, mutters something you don’t catch but still doesn’t turn around to face you as he rummages through his fridge. “It definitely was not fun to sit there, no.” He replies.
“Is that why you didn’t come back last night? You were coping with the loss?” You’re hoping your strong reference to his late-night escapades will spark something in him, but alas you still seem to be wrong and all he does is cast you a furtive glance before going back to his business.
God, you were just going to have to wring this out of him, weren’t you?
“Andrei,” You start, taking a deep breath. He still doesn’t stir. “Andrei, I know.”
Finally, he stops. Pauses mid-motion of whatever he’s doing, and his shoulders seem to tense in preparation of your foreboding words.
“There’s other girls, right? It’s not just me?” Your voice is already wobbling, and you’re glad he’s still refusing to face you because your eyes are slowly filling with tears, the agony of these last few days catching up to you.
This is when Andrei finally turns around. He meets your eyes last after scanning up and down your body; the clothes you’re wearing that aren’t his, your nails digging into your hands, and finally the bright flush of your face as you struggle not to explode.
“What do you mean?” Is what he says, looking at you calculatingly.
“Don’t play dumb with me, ‘Drei,” You whisper, invisible wires constricting around your throat as you force yourself to continue speaking. “Maria told me. She saw you. And you lied to me.”
Andrei doesn’t speak. He just stares, fingers clenching and unclenching like he can’t decide if he should approach you or not. After what seems like hours of silent battle, he replies, starting out by saying your name like a warning. “She… Maria had no right to tell you that.”
“Because I’m not actually your girlfriend, right?” Your response is immediate, and it hurts him if the flinch on his face is anything to go by. “You don’t owe me anything. Not a title, responsibility. You never promised me any of that so sleeping with other girls is perfectly okay.”
Everything you’re saying is true but it’s all wrong the way you’re looking at each other. Tears are now openly streaming down your cheeks and Andrei hasn’t moved since the moment you opened your mouth.
“Nothing to say?” It’s defeated, your entire demeanor as your shoulders sag and you fight the urge to collapse. “Yeah. I—I wouldn’t know what to say either.”
“I’m sorry,” Andrei whispers, and he doesn’t fight you which makes it all the more devastating. Everything you’re saying is true and it’s still all so wrong but he isn’t fighting you and wow, you’re really about to lose him, aren’t you?
“I think the worst part of this for me is that I actually let myself fall in love with you.” It’s your last-ditch effort of getting something out of him, anything that proves this isn’t completely one-sided on your end.
Andrei looks gutted at that. But he steels his resolve, his eyes go cold and he clenches his jaw as you try, one last time, to reach him.
“Do you love me?”
He’s staring at the wall behind you. No words fall from the lips you’ve kissed a thousand times until they finally do, and this is when you come to the realization that you’re ruined. You won’t ever look at another man the same because Andrei will forever haunt you in everything that you are and what you do.
“No. I don’t.”
You don’t put up much of a fight after that. You wave your white flag and slip past him to grab the small bag you’d packed earlier in preparation.
Andrei doesn’t move from his spot in the kitchen once. His face is tight, eyes dark and anguished as you drop his spare key on the counter. You look at him one last time, will him to say something, anything, but he doesn’t.
He never does—so you leave and you don’t look back.
It hurts worse because there really wasn’t a fight. There was no screaming, breaking glass, hurling insults at each other; it was a quiet acceptance of the end of a relationship that had no chance of lasting.
That’s what gets you. Not just because it’s over, but because he doesn’t love you like you love him.
You can’t believe you let yourself fall for it.
When you finally make it back to your apartment it feels like walking into an alternate reality, especially after an agonizing drive back full of nothing but silence and your thoughts.
You’ve practically lived with Andrei the last few months so much that you’ve forgotten you had a life before him. Maria comes to your mind immediately at that thought, and you can’t think of anything else you need more right now than your best friend.
Her phone only rings twice before she picks up. She says your name warily, likely because she hasn’t heard a word from you in two days.
“Hey,” You whimper, and you hate that you can tell how broken you sound. “Um, you were right. About Andrei. I… Talked to him about it. We’re done.”
There’s silence on the other end for several moments. Then:
“Oh, babe, I’m so sorry. I’m coming over, and I’m bringing the fattest bottle of wine known to man, okay?”
You can’t help but laugh through your tears.
“Don’t respond, you can’t say no. I’ll see you in a few!”
And, well, you do nothing but let her hang up as you stare at your blank lock screen for a minute. Something possesses you to try and freshen up even though it’s just Maria, so you make your way to your bathroom.
Opening the door, your eyes land on your reflection in the mirror, your tear-stained eyes the same color red as the lipstick you wore the first time you met him. The same red of your heart, too, as you feel the shattering of it now more than ever.
It all goes back to him. Everything about you, your identity as ‘his girl’ reducing you to someone who doesn’t exist without him.
Fuck you, Andrei, you want to yell. Fuck you and fuck everything you put me through.
As you furiously rub your eyes, you realize you don’t know who you are anymore. You let yourself be molded into an unfamiliar version of yourself, into someone just for Andrei to want to keep around.
The tears start again, and you’re left sniffling in the suffocating silence of your bathroom. The only person who knew you, the you now, is gone.
And suddenly, you find yourself alone.
Well… Not totally alone. “Fuck him!” Maria shouts after she breaks into your apartment (she has your spare key) after you’d collapsed onto your couch and refused to open the door. “Seriously, fuck him. You’re way too good for him.”
“Weren’t you the one who convinced me to sleep with him in the first place?” Is your weak rebuttal, muffled and almost imperceptible as your head is burrowed in a pillow.
Your friend tsks, likely waving her arms around in that expressive way she does. “Yes, well. I never claimed to see the future. But now we know him for the piece of shit he is!”
Maria is your closest friend, yes, but you also know her to be someone who tells you what you want to hear. Right now, you’re feeling vengeful and angry, so she’s feeding into those emotions to make you feel better.
You know, in two months time or however long it takes you to process this, when you start missing him and tiptoe around the idea of calling him, she’ll support you then, too.
Which probably isn’t what you need, but, whatever. You’re just grateful you have someone on your side.
“I need…” You start, not quite sure how to phrase what you’re wanting. “I need to forget.”
“A one nightstand type of forget or get so drunk you pass out type of forget?”
You wrinkle your nose at the thought of sleeping with someone so soon. As much as you hate it, you don’t think you’ll ever stop craving Andrei’s body.
No man ever could make you feel that good…
“Get drunk,” You say, quirking a small smile at the whoop she lets out. “I can’t fuck someone right now. At least not yet.”
“Yeah,” The blonde agrees, sighing almost wistfully. “I’d feel the same if I knew what his dick felt like.”
“Maria!” You shriek, throwing a spare pillow as hard as you can her way. It misses, but does the job of lightening the mood and keeps you giggling the rest of the night.
She does her job in making you forget, though. Makes you put on one of your shortest dresses and gets you drink after drink until you’re hunched over a toilet in the back of some bar gagging your stomach out.
You wake up the next day with the worst hangover ever, but Maria is fairing the same and somehow you consider it worth it. Maybe you can live your life again without him.
You’ve done it before, right?
And really, it’s ridiculous when you let yourself think about how you’d only been seeing the man for five months and he completely managed to send your world careening in that timespan. So, you don’t let yourself think about it. Instead, you live.
For yourself, for your friends, for your heart that won’t ever be full but feels a little bit better every time you wake up each day without Andrei next to you.
You graduate university with your bachelor’s and get a job that’s even better than your last, and you make a really good group of friends at said-job without Maria’s help (though she’ll always be your best). The summer passes by with melancholy laughter and gentle healing, and while your first love always remains in the back of your mind, you think about him less.
So much less that you lose track of time, not even realizing that October of twenty twenty-three is here and the NHL season is starting back up. You haven’t spoken to any of the WAG’s since you broke it off with Andrei, assuming you would no longer be welcome in the ‘clique’ and preferring to separate yourself from a group associated with someone who brought you so much pain, so there haven’t been any reminders about the new season from them.
The memories of him are fleeting. They’ll come to you at random times, and now that you’ve lived in the past yet again, you can forget about the end where Andrei is a distant thought but every time his name is brought up it squeezes your heart so much you can’t breathe.
You’re doing better. Truly, you are. You’d stopped crying over him long ago, and you might have gone to class with swollen eyes and showed up to work despondent, but you’re working through it in your own way. Healing isn’t linear but you’re making progress slowly but surely.
One day, you wake up with a sudden determination to officially ‘get back out there’, per Maria’s words. There’s nothing spectacular about this day; it’s only mid-November, the weather in that awkward stage of autumn morphing into winter.
Maybe it’s because the night before you’d succumbed to the urge to search up the Hurricanes’ schedule, curious to when they’d be home and not.
It’s only a coincidence that they have a home game when you call your friends from work, asking if they’d like to go out after everyone gets off. It’s also a coincidence when you meet someone at said-bar you attend, and it’s absolutely insane how if you squint he kind of looks like Andrei.
Oh, but he’s so, so sweet… His name is Jack and he buys you and your friends drinks, keeps a respectful distance yet never strays far when you’re wrapped into another conversation. He asks for your number at the end of the night and you give it to him without hesitation, taking note of the way he creates your contact in his phone himself.
“You like cats?” He asks as he’s still typing away, and your breath catches in your throat because it’s a question that makes you think of the first night you met him. When you don’t respond, he gestures towards your keychain attached to the strap of your handbag.
“You have little kittens on your keychain. I think that’s what I’ll add to your name, yeah?” Jack laughs a little shyly, and it’s cute but you keep replaying kisa in your mind over and over in a Russian accent you never could quite imitate.
“Yeah, I do like cats,” You say, flushing at the sudden amusement in his eyes. “I like them a lot.”
Jack doesn’t waste any time texting you the next day, and the normalcy of it freaks you out a little. Where’s the anxiety? The stomach-dropping nerves that come with talking to someone new? The constant wondering if they like you or not?
It’s so safe and secure that it hurts, because it was never like that before.
Everyone in your life is so supportive, though, but that only makes it worse because they can see how good this man is for you, but why can’t you? You feel like pulling your hair out when he texts you good morning and goodnight and sick to your stomach when he shows up during your lunch break with flowers.
However, there’s no one is more enthusiastic about Jack's new presence in your life than Maria.
“He’s a dream guy, honestly,” She swoons, kicking her feet back on her ottoman. “You’re so lucky. I would kill for a guy I met at a bar to be so smitten with me he shows up to my job with flowers.”
You hum in agreement, unable to come up with something to say. “He… Yeah, it’s nice, I guess.”
The blonde eyes you from where you’re curled up on her couch, deliberately avoiding her stare as you mindlessly watch whatever is on the TV. “You guess? He’s perfect!”
“On paper,” You retort, huffing slightly in frustration at yourself because why can’t you see what everyone else sees? “I don’t really know him.”
“Yet. You don’t really know him yet.” She helpfully points out. “Why don’t you want to give him a chance?”
“I… I do. I am giving him a chance. Maybe I’m just not feeling it.”
“He’s not Andrei, babe.”
You fight the powerful urge to scoff. I know, you want to scream. I know. That’s the problem.
Jack is too perfect for you. You want the ups and downs, the electrifying chemistry, the undeniable connection you’ve felt with no one else before. You crave the feeling of those past five months, of being with someone who lit you up to your very core.
It’s been almost eight months and you still can’t get him out of your head.
You give Jack a rightful chance, though, like everyone in your life is begging you to. You can’t bring yourself to end it because there really is nothing wrong, it’s a perfect getting-to-know-you stage which checks off all the boxes. It’s just that you don’t want normal because normal is boring.
You want chaos. And Andrei is chaos personified.
Unbeknownst to you, Maria is still very good friends with a lot of the WAG’s and talks about you when they ask. They miss you, it turns out, but your friend never tells you this in fear of sending you into a depressive spiral that tends to happen when they’re brought up. They’re ecstatic to hear that your life seems to be going so well after the breakup, especially after seeing Andrei’s reaction to it all.
This is something Maria doesn’t tell you, either. She’s such a good friend, protecting your heart like that. Andrei did not come out of his house after you ended it the same person; he was a little darker, a little angrier, frustrated in a way that suggested nothing could be done to fix it.
It doesn’t help that he couldn’t take it out by playing hockey, because he wasn’t cleared to play until the end of October, a month into the regular season.
He never admits his sour mood is partly to blame you for. Not that it’s your fault—he’s the one who fucked up, not you.
Never you.
Maria knows all of this and still gives him the cold shoulder for his treatment of you. None of the girls were very happy after finding out while his teammates just gave him awkward pats on the back. It doesn’t stop him from finding out about you, though, and what you’re up to.
The WAG’s talk. They’re gossip machines, and while normally he hates them for it because he always has to watch what he says around them, this time he’s thankful because they tell their husbands and boyfriends everything.
He’s at Martin and his girlfriend, Nykki’s, apartment watching their cavapoo, Gigi, when he finds out you’re seeing someone new. They’re heatedly talking about something when they walk in and don’t see him on the floor cuddling Gigi, so he doesn’t interrupt.
“I mean, I’m not surprised, but wow. It certainly took her a while to move on, didn’t it?”
He hears a smack, assumes Nykki has hit him on the arm like she typically does when he pisses her off. “She loved him, of course it took time!”
“Ow!” He hisses, though it’s clearly in jest. “Well, yeah, but like… It’s been months. And it’s not like she’s in contact with any of us anymore to remind her of him.” Andrei notes the sourness in his teammate’s voice, feels his heart drop because he thinks he knows who they’re talking about, now.
“Still,” Nykki replies. “I was so sad after my first heartbreak. They take a while to heal from, especially when it’s not a clean ending. It’s no secret how Andrei treated her.” She’s frowning when she continues. “I wish I could give her a hug, but I get it. I wouldn’t want to see any of us, either.”
Martin sighs. “I get it, too. I sure do miss the wine she’d bring though. She had the best fucking taste, ever.”
“Of course you only miss her for her alcohol.”
Andrei decides to clear his throat at this moment. When he does so, Martin and Nykki whip their heads towards him on the floor, surprise and guilt decorating their faces when they see him holding Gigi rather dejectedly.
He starts by saying your name, even surprises himself when it comes out biting and, dare he say it… Jealous? “She’s seeing someone?”
Martin and Nykki share a glance. Gigi chooses this as the time to leap up from his lap and run towards her parents where Martin happily picks her up. “I’m going to go take her out. Thanks for watching, ‘Drei!” He quickly flees the apartment, and Nykki says something under her breath as she glares after him.
They both know Andrei isn’t letting this go.
“Do you remember Maria, her friend? Works in the Hurricanes’ marketing department?” She eventually says, joining him on the floor.
“The blonde one? Yes,” He replies, and even though there are many blondes working for the team he knows exactly who she’s talking about. She’s your best friend, after all, and he knows everything about you.
Like how he knows you will never get over him. Conceited? Yes, but he had (has) you wrapped around his finger.
“Well, she talks to a lot of us still, despite everything that happened. And she tells us things.” Nykki pauses, almost like she’s scared to go on.
“Things like?” Andrei inquires. “How she is doing? Who she is doing?”
She glares at him then, eyes narrowing into slits. “Not that you really have a right to know, but yes.”
His fingers dig into his palms and his jaw cramps with how much he’s trying to keep from exploding.
“So, she’s seeing some guy now?” He scoffs like the very idea is incredulous. As if whatever pathetic excuse of a man you’re talking to could ever compare to him.
“She has a right to move on, Andrei. You should too. You ruined her.”
That fact remains true, but he still has no desire to ever let you go as he deliberately ignores her advice, well-meaning as it is.
How ruined could you really be if you’re already with somebody else?
Unfortunately, it’s impossible to run into you because you avoid him like the plague. You know everywhere he and his teammates frequent so you stopped showing up long ago, and he’s pretty sure you keep a several hundred-foot radius between you and PNC Arena at all times. He doesn’t blame you, but it pisses him off to know he can’t easily find you.
Christmas passes, you spend it with Jack and Andrei spends it with his Russian teammates. The New Year arrives just as quickly, and as he locks lips with some random girl at the party he’s at he thinks of you. Wonders who you’re with, if you’re kissing that guy Nykki told him about.
You actually flew back home to spend it with your parents, giving Jack some weak excuse about how you weren’t able to see them over the holidays.
North Carolina winter is in full force as February of twenty twenty-four rolls around, and your life remains inexplicably boring while Andrei’s picks up. The Hurricanes are finally having a redemption arc after their awful first-half of the season, and thus are heading out to celebrate far more often than normal.
They’re more daring in where they choose to go, too, wanting to branch out of their norms, because why not?
This is really unfortunate for you. Horrifying, actually, because you’re out with your friends, Jack, and his friends too when the team comes strolling in. Eyes instantly shoot their way, aweing at the miniature celebrities in their own right for finally bringing a good professional sports team to NC.
The moment Andrei steps foot in the establishment you know. Your skin catches fire, your ears ring, and your heart thunders inside your chest because only man can set off your senses so powerfully.
You look away from Jack - who thankfully doesn’t notice, he’s sucked into a conversation with one of his friends - and find Andrei approaching the bar with Martin and Seth. He hasn’t noticed you yet and you try to keep that from happening as you sink down into your seat, flashing your friends an exaggerated smile when they eye you curiously.
You’re unable to hide for long, though, when a song bursts from the speakers and sends everyone into an excited frenzy, your group included as they crowd the dance.
Luckily you’re able to escape that particular rally and wave Jack off when he asks you if you’re okay. “I’m fine,” You shout over the bass rattling your eardrums. “Just letting my drink settle a bit.”
He doesn’t question you, merely nods and smiles before disappearing somewhere with his friends. Now, you’re alone, and you can’t decide if that’s a good or bad thing because now you have a perfect view of Andrei and his teammates leaning against the bar, looking far too good as they do so.
You can’t keep your eyes off him. You never could, especially can’t now as you soak up every little change your eyes can see. He has a scruff now, a sexy five o’clock shadow that you know firsthand how it feels between your thighs. His hair is a little longer, too—you wonder if it’s still as soft as you remember.
Jack suddenly appears from a break in the crowd and oh, yeah, fuck you can’t be thinking about your ex like this, can you? No, you aren’t officially with Jack, but it’s still wrong. He likes you so much, you know this, and you… Don’t hate him?
Fuck, fuck, fuck, you bemoan to yourself, torn between the angel on your left and the devil on your right that don’t give you the chance to decide because you feel eyes baring into your skull, begging you to notice them. Your entire being freezes, stuck in between some weird limbo as you lock eyes with Andrei for the first time in months.
There’s no one else but you and him as neither one of you refuses to break first, and you only lose eye contact when a group of people walks between you. When they’re gone and you’re able to freely look again, you realize he’s gone from his spot at the bar. All his teammates are still there, and they’ve now spotted you too.
Would it be wrong to call an uber and just tell Jack you felt sick?
Your name is suddenly being whispered into your ear, and you would have flinched if the sound of his voice didn’t have you relaxing back into your seat. You refuse to look up at first, because if you look at him so close to you again you’ll fold.
“Andrei,” You greet, quietly. “How are you?” You still aren’t looking at him, choosing to swirl around the drink in your hand instead.
“I’m good,” He replies, so close you can feel the heat of his body seeping into your skin. You lean into it almost subconsciously until he’s sliding into the booth next to you, pressing the two of you together. “How are you, my kisa?”
“You don’t get to call me that anymore.” You retort, finally meeting his eyes to cast him a withering glare.
“No?” Andrei reaches a hand up to brush some stray hairs from your face. So delicate his touch, he trails his hand down your cheek, your neck, and down your waist until landing on your thigh. You don’t stop him, either.
“That’s funny. I could have sworn that you’re mine.”
“I’m not,” You squirm under his touch, unable to push him away. “I haven’t been in months. Wasn’t ever ‘yours’ to begin with. You made sure of that.”
Andrei doesn’t appreciate the call out. The way his face twists is mean and you know whatever he’s going to say will hurt. “Right,” He scoffs, is snide with the way he tones it. “But you’re his?”
He gestures towards Jack, who thankfully is enraptured in a tense game of pool on the other side of the room. You don’t question how he already knows that’s who you’re with.
“I’m not anyone’s, Andrei.”
“Yes you are. You might have thought that because we haven’t seen each other we are just over?” He leans into you, doesn’t let you break eye contact as he gets so close your noses touch. “No. I bet me being so close to you right now has you soaked, and you want to know how I know that?”
Your throat is tight as you swallow. You can’t look away as you move to shake your head, but strange, because it comes out as a nod instead.
“You’re not ‘over me’, malyshka. You’ll never be over me. You love me.”
His grin is feral, his words biting as they cut through you at such a vulnerable level it has you flinching back from his touch immediately.
“Oh, fuck you, Andrei,” You hiss, an angry sheen of tears starting to gloss over your eyes. “Fuck you. I don’t love you anymore—especially not now.”
You move to slip around him but his arm shoots out and stops you in your tracks, leaving you frozen as he stands to tower over you.
“Careful,” He murmurs. “Your boy over there might think something’s wrong. Maybe I should introduce myself, make sure he knows I would never dare hurt you.”
“You don’t have to touch me to hurt me. You did that plenty without having to lift a finger.” You retort. “Now, get out of my way. I don’t want to talk to you anymore.”
“But what if I want to talk to you?” You really hate the height difference between the two of you right now because it takes no effort at all for him to slide a muscular arm around your waist and keep you glued to his side. “Maybe I have missed you.”
“I sincerely doubt that,” You mutter, but he ignores you as he begins to lead you away from the booth you were in before. “My friends will wonder where I am if I’m not at the booth when they get back.”
“Not worried about your boy?” He mocks, noting the way you don’t mention Jack at all. “They won’t have enough time to notice.”
You narrow your eyes at his insinuating words as he stops at the bar, waving down the bartender who comes immediately. “His name is Jack.” You mutter, thinking he can’t hear you. He continues talking, ignoring you, and you’re unable to hear him over the noise so you don’t bother trying to understand what he’s asking for.
Soon enough there’s a drink sliding across the bar counter and Andrei pushes it in front of you. You eye the glass, making note of the fact that the liquid is red. “Vodka cranberry,” He confirms what you’re already thinking.
You flash back to the night you first met and suddenly you want nothing to do with the drink in front of you. “No thanks, I don’t want it.” You say, trying to step away.
You don’t get far, though, because he’s grabbing your wrist and tugging you rather harshly back to him. “Drink it,” He demands, watches your eyes and the way they dart from his face and back to the glass nervously. He sighs, then, like he’s realized something and lets go of your wrist only to land back on your hip. “It’s… Nothing is wrong with it. I didn’t touch it.”
He thinks you’re worried about being drugged? You almost laugh but manage to hold it back, because of course he doesn’t remember that this is the first drink he ever got you.
Your heart beats a little faster as you concede, finally picking up the drink and taking a tiny sip. He waits for your reaction like he’s the one who made it. “It’s good,” You finally say, licking the sweetness from your lips.
Andrei watches you, your eyes, your lips, everything about as time seems to stop and it’s just you and him, like it’s supposed to be.
You haven’t changed all that much, and you can tell he likes that. Your hair is a little shorter, you’re perhaps a little thinner now that you’re not on a college student diet, but you’re still you.
Andrei hasn’t changed either. You’re the same yet so different, and it’s incredibly difficult resisting the temptation to fall back into old habits.
“I’ve missed you,” He admits quietly, and you think it’s sincere this time. You wouldn’t have heard if you weren’t standing so close together.
Your heart thunders in your chest. You might be sweating out of nerves, or maybe it’s just the club. Your hands itch to touch him, and with more alcohol in you thanks to the cranberry you don’t stop Andrei as he succumbs to his urges first and uses one, large hand to cup your cheek.
You shudder as he caresses the skin, his thumb landing on your bottom lip and stroking it lightly. “Andrei,” You breathe, pupils blown wide. “You can’t—we can’t…”
He tilts his head, reminiscent of a dog. “Why not? You are not single?” He has you. He knows you know he does. You aren’t nearly as committed to Jack as much as you’d like yourself to be.
“I can’t do that to him,” You try weakly, already feeling your will bending to the persuasiveness of his touch.
His head lowers, hand remaining on your cheek as he brushes your lips together. You crave it, you realize, and move to fully push your mouths together but he’s pulling back before you get the chance.
“Go to the bathroom.” He says. “I’ll meet you there.”
“Will you?” You ask, the double-meaning clear as you stare at each other, neither willing to break.
Andrei’s face is unreadable. You can’t decide if that’s a good or bad thing as his hands land on your hips and he turns you around in the direction of the restrooms. “Go,” He taps your ass, nudging you forward. “I’ll be there.”
You give in this time. You’re aware of the astronomically bad decision you’re making as you cut the line, faking a sick stomach and whispering ‘sorry’ over and over again in your head as the nice ladies let you through.
When you close the door you immediately make your way to the mirror. Your reflection stares back at you, and with mussed hair and smudged lipstick you should be feeling ashamed.
All you feel is anticipation, though. For Andrei’s hands on your body, for his mouth to kiss all the spots he’s missed.
Several minutes go by and the knocks on the bathroom door become more frequent. You think he’s bailed on you - it certainly wouldn’t be the first time - but then you hear his voice outside.
“Da, yes, she’s in there,” A pause. “She’s my girlfriend, she needs me.”
Your breath catches in your throat, turning to face the door as he knocks and can hear his voice more clearly.
Yes, you do need him.
“Kisa,” He says, slightly muffled but you feel the effect he has on you is all the same. “I’m here. Let me in?” He’s almost begging, and you quickly unlock the door as he pushes through.
His smile is mischievous as he closes the door behind him. “Are you okay, sweetheart?” He purposefully raises his voice, shows faux concern and plays it up in case anyone is listening outside.
“You’re so dramatic,” You say, pulling him down to you by the collar of his shirt. Now that you’re alone you don’t bother pretending you don’t want him as much as you do. “Now shut up and kiss me.”
“Yes ma’am,” Andrei relents immediately, closing the distance between the two of you. Both his hands come up to the sides of your head to keep you in place, tilting you in whatever way he likes. His lips are just as soft as you remember, and your bodies move together like they were never apart.
He’s demanding as he begins pushing you back, crowding you against the tiny bathroom wall. His words from outside come back to you suddenly, and you break the kiss to catch a breath as his lips begin a trail across your cheeks. “Girlfriend?”
He doesn’t miss a beat. “I had to get them to let me through somehow.” It’s not what you want to hear but you lose the urge to fight him on it as he reaches your neck and begins sucking little hickeys onto the sensitive skin. Your head falls back with a sigh, uncaring of your hair catching whatever germs might lie on the wall.
You let Andrei do what he wants to your neck for a few moments, then when the urge to taste his lips comes again you grab the back of his hair and pull him up to you. He goes willingly, and you moan into his mouth as he continues to push back against you so hard you can feel his dick through his jeans.
He pulls back much too soon for your taste, and you try to follow but suddenly one of the hands holding your head comes down to wrap around your throat, restricting your breath as he pushes you back. You go to speak, but his other hand is leaving your face to unbutton his jeans one-handed.
You watch, eyes heavy-lidded. “‘Drei?” The weight on your neck is comfortable, so you don’t bother moving as he shoves the rest of his jeans along with his boxers down his thick thighs.
“You want to talk to other guys?” He starts with a bite. “Then you can remember the taste of my cock in your mouth while you do it.”
Your blood pressure skyrockets as the hand on your throat leaves to pull your hair back out of your face, grasps it like a rope, and pushes you down to your knees.
You’re at eye-level with his cock as it bobs in front of you, angry and swollen with beads of pre-cum leaking from the tip. He stares down at you expectantly, has to hold back a groan at your wide-eyed gaze looking so innocent.
As your lips wrap around his tip he’s reminded of the fact that no, you are not innocent. He made you that way. Fucked you like no man ever could. Ruined you for everyone but him. His feelings for you are complicated, but he does understand one thing…
Andrei doesn’t want you, not really. But he hates to think about you with somebody else.
Your tongue is masterful in its work as it swirls around his head, and once you get comfortable you begin going down. His head falls back and this time he doesn’t hold back his noises as your warm, wet mouth envelopes him.
“Missed this mouth,” He grunts as you suck. “Like it much better when you can’t speak.”
It’s insulting and degrading, yet it doesn’t fail to turn you on as you squirm and rub your thighs together in hopes it’ll give you the friction you need.
His hand in your hair soon starts pulling, sliding your mouth forward and back in increasing motions as he gets closer. He’s unabashedly groaning now, and you can see his abs clench when you suck a certain way.
Suddenly, you have the urge to have him fall apart before you. Maybe it’s revenge, wanting to see him lose control for you like you’ve done for him so many times; you tilt your head, using your tongue to stroke the sensitive underside of his cock and that has him jerking into you.
“Fuck,” He hisses. “Good girl. Just like that.” The praise goes directly to your clit, and you whimper as it throbs with no relief.
Despite being apart for almost a year, you still know what every twitch of his body means. You know he’s close because the hand in your hair is gripping you tighter, you can feel the steadily increasing tempo of his heartbeat through his pulsing cock, and his thighs are ever so slightly trembling underneath your hands.
You want him to come in your mouth. You don’t think you’ve ever wanted anything more; your efforts increase and you dig your nails into his skin to hear him hiss and as his thrusts pick up he starts hitting the back of your throat.
Internally thanking your lacking gag reflex, you don’t flinch as he picks up speed, now blatantly using your mouth for his own pleasure with little regard for your comfort. “Shit, baby,” He blurts, desperate. “I’m gonna cum.” You hum in response, the vibrations of the sound finally throwing him over the edge.
Andrei throws his head back for a final time, one long groan emulating from his unfairly sculpted chest as his cum hits the back of your throat. You’ve always loved the taste of him and this time is no different as you suck him deeper, not wanting to waste a drop.
He takes a few moments to collect himself and in that timeframe your ears slowly stop ringing and you come back to reality, finding that your knees ache from being pressed into the floor and there are loud voices coming from outside the bathroom door.
As you move to stand, he too seems to remember where you’re at and uses both arms to pull you the rest of the way until you’re back to standing. You swipe your hair out of your face as his thumb comes to your lip, wiping away a stray drop of his release.
Despite the post-orgasmic clarity, he looks at you with softness and something else swimming in his dark eyes. “You’re still good at that,” He states. “Been sucking anyone else off?” His words are quiet but every bit threatening as you note the possessiveness in his tone.
“No,” You gasp as his thumb pushes its way into your mouth. “Just you. Only you,”
“That’s right,” He says. “Just me. Only me.” Then he’s spinning you around, fingers remaining pressed into your mouth while the other trails up your spine until he’s gripping the back of your neck. “Hear them outside?” He asks.
The ‘them’ he’s referring to, you realize, are the voices outside the bathroom. They’re much louder now, a few knocks mixed in, and you wonder with slight panic how a manager hasn’t come to unlock the door yet.
“They sound very angry, don’t they?” That same hand on the back of your neck strokes your skin, slowly working its way down to your waistband. “So we better make it quick. Hands on the wall, kisa,”
You know the moment he pulls down your pants he’ll find you to be unabashedly soaking. Despite claiming to be in a hurry, he takes his time working open the button of your jeans, grazing the skin above your panties before ever so slowly sliding them down your legs.
“Andrei,” You hiss, impatient. “Hurry up!” As the hand in your mouth retreats, you realize you’re both needy and nervous, an overwhelming combination.
He only laughs. “Someone is needy,” He mocks, holding your hips in place when you try wiggling against him. “Patience.” Leaning into your ear he murmurs this, staying this way as he fully slides your jeans past your knees.
Andrei sneaks his hand in between your thighs, something resembling a growl rumbling from his chest when his fingers find your dripping folds, feeling how you throb for him. “Missed this pussy even more,” He breathes, lubricating his fingers with your slick before slowly circling your clit. Your arms shake from where they hold you up and it’s a battle to keep yourself from collapsing.
“You are just made for me, aren’t you?”
You’re so wet you practically suck him in as he guides his dick to your entrance, and he wastes no preamble as he pushes in. If he thought your mouth was heaven after so much time apart, the feeling of your pussy squeezing him in so deep doesn’t even compare. His hands are digging into your hips as he ruts into you fully with one thrust, panting as your warmth contracts around him.
“Still so fucking tight,” He marvels like he can’t believe it, like it’s a dream you feel even better than when he replays the memories of you on repeat. “You been waiting for me?” He’s not expecting a response as his rhythm picks up, finding a familiar pace for the both of you that has him swearing under his breath and you struggling not to shout your pleasure to the rooftops.
“God,” You cry out when the head of his cock directly hits your g-spot, your hips jerking up so hard you would have fallen if it weren’t for Andrei holding you up. “Fuck, Andrei, fuck, I’m gonna—”
Andrei laughs, a sound that would have been more menacing if he also wasn’t gasping for air. “Already?” He mocks. “I barely touched you, baby,”
You don’t have to touch me, it’s on the tip of your tongue waiting to be blurted out. You don’t have to touch me for me to be on my knees for you. The words are ready, but instead all that comes out is a moan and maybe that’s for the best because he probably wouldn’t respond as well as he does in your dreams.
He’s unaware of your internal dilemma as he leans over you, pressing his clothed chest to your back. “Gotta be fast,” He reminds you, as if you’d forgotten. “You ready?”
“No, I—I can’t,” Because you don’t want this to be over. You don’t want to cum because he’ll follow you right after and then when clarity hits he’ll leave you again and you’ll be back to square one.
“Yes, you can” He croons. “I’ve got you. Not gonna let anything happen to you, I’m right here.” You want to sob as one of his hands leaves your hip and finds the junction of your bodies, gentle fingers prodding your pussy spread-wide around him until he finds your clit and rubs.
Your body is trembling and you can’t tell if you’re trying to move towards him or away, but it doesn’t matter anyways because he has you trapped between the wall and his body and the unrelenting pace of his hips slamming into you.
You have a sudden urge to look him in the eyes before you come undone by his cock and his fingers, so you crane your head to the side and watch him watch you. His hair is damp from sweat at the corners of his hairline, his lips slightly open as he pants and you think you spot him lick his lips when he catches you staring. You go to say something but he swoops down, catching your mouth with his own and promptly shuts you up.
Andrei doesn’t relent in his motions despite the uncomfortable position, not letting you break from his lips by removing his hand at your hip and gripping your face to keep you right here. He owns you, at this point, mind, body, and soul as your lungs beg for breath while your clit throbs beneath his fingers and oh, oh, there it is and you’re gone—
You feel the rough pads of his fingers bullying your clit but you don’t really focus on it until now, how the calloused ridges carelessly sweep over you with no semblance of relief and only when you body abruptly freezes does he part from you, but only slightly, leaving a hair’s width of space between your lips. “Beautiful,” He says, under his breath so quietly you don’t hear him as your bones catch fire and your brain short-circuits.
Heat sears you from the inside-out and you do nothing but endure as Andrei rocks you through it. There’s tears of ecstasy streaming down your face, you’re sure of it now, and you think he’s wiping them from your cheeks but you can’t open your eyes enough to check.
It takes a few minutes, but once your heart stops racing you can hear your favorite voice swearing behind you and only then do you comprehend him still moving inside you, but before you can whine at the sensitivity he’s stilling with a long, drawn-out groan.
You don’t dare speak first, nor are you the first to move. The air around you is stagnant with tension as you rest your head on your arms, breathing deeply to catch your breath. What does this mean? You’re spiraling already and it’s only been minutes since your desperate fuck in this bathroom.
Eventually, Andrei moves first. He slides his softened dick from you with a hiss and you feel his cum trickling out without him there to keep it plugged in. Wrinkling your nose at the feeling of having to walk around with wet inner thighs now, you slowly stand up as his hands fall from your body. You slide your panties and jeans back up the rest of your legs, ignoring the uncomfortable sensitivity of being covered once again.
Neither of you speaks a word. You want to cry suddenly, and this time not from pleasure. “What did we just do?” You manage to choke out, your voice so hoarse you have to clear it. He’s clearly planning on just leaving without a word but you’re not going to let him.
You stare at him expectantly. He’s turned around so all you have in your view is his slide profile, clearly struggling with what to say as his jaw clenches tightly.
“Nothing,” He finally says, and he might as well just fucking stab you in the back. “We did nothing. You’re going to go back out there and pretend nothing happened because it didn’t.”
Oh, he makes you so angry. You can’t believe you’d forgotten that. “You’re serious?” You know he is but you don’t want to believe it.
Andrei meets your glassy eyes and you wish you could read him like he so easily can read you. He looks as conflicted as the day you walked out of his house for the last time, like he has so many words to say but refuses to let them fall from his lips. Just like then, you know this rendezvous means more to him than just a meaningless hookup.
If only he’d admit it…
He exhales a shaky breath as another loud knock disturbs you. “We need to go.” He dodges your question just like he dodges every issue in his life, especially in regards to you. “Come on, kisa.”
“You can’t just call me that, after—after this,” You hiss as he grabs your arm and pulls you towards the door. You panic on the inside as he unlocks it because once you leave this dirty sanctuary you know your problems will only get worse.
Strange, how Andrei manages to make everything worse despite making you feel so good.
As if your emotions don’t matter to him (they really don’t), he flashes you a grin as he drags you behind him, past the angry horde of people who, now that you think about it, definitely know you were fucking. “I know you like it.” Spoken so simply, so plain, you hate that he’s right.
You’ll always like it. Always love him. For as long as you’re hung up over him it will always come back to bite you in the ass and he knows this too.
It’s why, without shame, his arm is curled possessively around your waist as he leads you through the crowd of people. Your friends, Jack, don’t even cross your mind as he does so.
“Go find your friends,” He soon leans down to whisper in your ear. “Then find Jack. Tell him you felt sick and had to use the bathroom.”
“What if I don’t want to?” You snap, purposefully antagonizing him.
Andrei merely raises a brow at you. “You can always stay with me, with my cum dripping down your legs, and explain to everyone how you missed me so much you couldn’t stay away.”
You want to hit him. You almost do, but he continues before you actually go through with it.
“I wonder what Jack would say?” Of course he was listening to you earlier. He ignored you then, of course, but he listened.
And yeah, okay, you get it. Not a good idea to let everyone you know see you with him. He doesn’t want his friends to see him with you, either.
“Trying to get rid of me?” You ask, intending to sound sarcastic but it comes off as more insecure than you wanted it to.
You know he is, but you can’t help but ask for confirmation. Maybe it would help you move on to hear how little he actually cares for you.
“I don’t think I could get rid of you if I tried,” He replies. You can’t tell if he’s serious or not. “You’ll never get rid of me though.”
He’s right, again. You hate so much that he is because you both know you’ll be crawling back the moment he calls.
You want to cry again as his arm leaves your waist, the absence of his heat leaving you shivering.
Andrei looks at you for a long time, just appraising. He tilts his head like he doesn’t know what to think, but then he spots something behind you and starts backing up.
“I will see you again someday, kisa.” He winks at you, and then he’s gone.
Someone behind you taps your shoulder while speaking into your ear, a voice you recognize as one of the girls you came with. You should probably focus, banish Andrei from your mind, but you don’t.
You strain your neck, watching for him through the crowd. He’s back at the bar with his friends, his teammates you once knew.
He’s laughing at something one of them said. Like he wasn’t just with you, fucking you against the bathroom walls.
“Are you okay?” Your friend behind you asks, the one thing from her you do catch.
“Yeah,” You say, swallowing despite the dryness in your throat. Andrei is talking to more people now, girls that have approached him, you notice. “I’m fine.”
He looks gorgeous under the lights. You catch his brilliant smile, the glimmer of his eyes, and those lips you can never get enough of. You soon lose sight of him amidst the throng of people, but his fleeting allure forever lingers...
Like a steadfast reminder, a haunting echo of what can never be.
A/N: Well, that was fun. I hurt my own feelings writing this but it was worth it. I hope you guys enjoyed! Please remember to reblog & comment!!
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#andrei svechnikov#andrei svechnikov imagine#andrei svechnikov fic#andrei svechnikov fanfiction#andrei svechnikov x reader#andrei svechnikov imagines#carolina hurricanes#carolina hurricanes imagine#carolina hurricanes imagines#carolina hurricanes fic#carolina hurricanes x reader#hurricanes#hurricanes imagine#canes lb#nhl hockey#nhl fanfiction#nhl fic#nhl imagine#nhl imagines#nhl writing#writing#fanfiction#'fleeting'
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I've read hundreds of Star Trek TOS fics by now and it never ceases to amuse me how many different ways there are to fuck up Spock's characterization...now hold on just a minute - this post has a more interesting point than “fanfic writers stupid”, I promise you.
Every time, it's a spin on the massacre wheel. It's kind of amazing. Will he be overly emotional to the point where he's not himself anymore? Will he be so cold it's unpleasant and kind of hard to understand how he's lived to this point? Will he be extremely horny for no good reason? Will he speak in a way that sounds complety wrong?
I chuckle and shake my head. Of course, I KNOW what Spock is like, and MY interpretation of him is the most perfect and correct one. Obviously. He's just a very nuanced character, formed by many people in an unconventional way, with traits that seem to contradict each other at first but ultimately form a rich and unique character that so many people fell in love with specifically because he's so complicated...
Or...is he?
Let's entertain the idea that there isn't one correct interpretation of Spock, that all of these messy bits of characterization are not part of a bigger picture, but...just what they are: a product of many people with starkly different visions, working on a show that refuses to properly develop its characters. What then? Well, then Spock is a Rorschach test. Each viewer connects the random dots in their own way, and ignores the ones they don't like.
Let's use an example: me! In my interpretation of Spock (the most correct one, of course) he is, first of all, gay and on the asexual spectrum, reserved, largely uninterested in casual flirting or sex. When he is interested in the aforementioned things, he tends to be quite ashamed of it.
Makes sense, right? I can show you plenty of evidence for why that could be true. However, in the beginning of the first bloody season, Uhura sings a song about how Spock is actually kind of a heartthrob who likes to drive women insane with how hot he is, and Spock smiles. He smiles at her, as if agreeing and being very amused by all this! This interaction goes against pretty much everything I think about Spock. So what do I do? I explain it away in the most bizzare fucking way possible. See, Uhura and Spock are friends (there is no evidence for this), and Uhura knows everything I've just told you about him (through telepathy I guess? Not like he'd ever tell her!) and she's just trolling him (why would she do that? That is NOTHING like Uhura!). I need to do some Olympics-level mental gymnastics here, the opposite of Occam's razor.
“But Danny,” I hear you say, “it's just the start of the show! They hadn't figured out his character yet!”
To which I say: you can say that about anything! You can blame it all on a bad writer for that episode, and ignore virtually any scene that doesn't jive with your headcanons. It's there, and I can't ignore it.
So...how am I different from the people that want Spock to be thar heartthrob Uhura is singing about? That evidence is as much a part of canon as my favorite lines. Well, I'm not any different, that's the thing. And all those writers I complained about also have a point.
It's kind of a nihilistic take, I know, but maybe the reason Spock is such a cultural icon is because he is...whatever you want him to be: just concrete enough to spur on your imagination, yet vague and contradictory enough to let your brain fill in the gaps.
Don't get me wrong: I absolutely do not believe in this. In my mind, it just so happens that I'm one of the, like, 5 people ever who truly understood Spock (and one of them is Jim Kirk himself). But I still think it's something worth thinking about next time you're mad at a fic.
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Being in love with Buck wasn’t an option.
It can’t be an option.
Because if it was, Eddie might do something stupid, like kiss his best friend.
Which is—not an option.
Eddie’s done that song and dance before, and that ended badly—leaving and being left, divorce papers, blood on hot asphalt.
But the thing is, Eddie can’t stop thinking about it. It’s been over a month since Buck came out to him, and Eddie can’t stop thinking about how Buck is an option now.
Which isn’t even entirely true, because Buck is with Tommy—Buck is happy with Tommy—and Eddie feels like his entire world is collapsing in on itself.
#you know what. fuck it. i will post just the beginning of this fic and nothing else god bless#buddie#911 fic#911#911 spoilers#kind of#eddie diaz#my fic#my writing#abby writes#mine#okay tumblrinas is this something. should i finish this. you guys have to tell me i need instant gratification
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Re: the memorable fanfic scene, I think the first fic of yours I read (maybe just the first one I commented on?) was Searching for Good Times (I'm also re-reading it now so maybe that's skewing my recollection lol). Anyway, the scenes that I always remember are a) when Five has to confront reality and disavow his life in the hotel - and Delores - to escape and b) the ending scene where he gets hugs. I love the scenes in all your fics where Five gets hugs. He needs them!
The scene that started that whole fic <3
Literally, I was chatting with @candiliam328 I think about this Wandavision-esque HOb, and Five having to confront Delores about not being real to get out. The single most painful thing Five would have to acknowledge/go through after losing his siblings - losing his Wife to not even death, but non-existence. So deliciously painful. And then I had to write the rest of the fic.
And Five always gets a hug or some comfort at the end (well... almost all of the time). We're here to torture Five, see him kick ass, and then get a goddamn hug. If the show won't do it, we'll do it ourselves.
#thank you!#and love that you're rereading! always happy to know people are coming back for a round two or more <3#god i love delores and five truly obsessed with how fucked up their relationship is#one day i'm going to work more on that five and delores in the apocalypse fic - or at least post the first few chapter i've got done#i should just put the beginning bit up...#someone twist my arm to share lol#anyway! thank you! <3#nice things#ask response#if you'll indulge me the game tonight is ''what scene comes to mind when you think shark fics''
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What season was current when you started watching SG?
i was waaaaay late to this clown convention bro 5a was airing as i was catching up on five years of lesbians!!!
#so. so. i first watched s1 when it came out in 2015#and i liked it but like. there was no lena yet so i wasn't HOOKED hooked#i know you wouldn't know it now but believe it or not superheroes are generally really Not My Thing#and then once lena arrived i kept seeing fruity stuff about them on tumblr as the great lesbian migration commenced once more#but i avoided the brain rot for years until i finally saw one sexy post too many and thought shit maybe i should give it another go#also because hello like. katie and mel are fucking gorgeous#so this was late 2019 when i started watching the whole thing from the beginning to catch up#and i distinctly remember winter 2019 seeing that clip of 5a kara at mount norquay and lena turning off the cannons at the last second#that clip was going around on tumblr while i was like just starting s3 and i remember thinking holy fuck#however gay they are now (s3) it's clearly only going to get gayer#and i was RIGHT#anyway. so i was all caught up to the present by the time 5a finished and ive watched it live ever since the 5b premiere!!!#so since the beginning of 2020 ive really been IN this clown car you feel me#never really wrote fic though#but then the pandemic hit and everything shut down and these two fruits had me in a chokehold and lo and behold#my ao3 account was born#and that's what you missed on glee#so i have not been here since the beginning but by god i'm here till the bitter end#hope you're having a wonderful day#asks#anonymous
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Not people saying “Fandom has always been like this” in that vent post I made. No. It hasn’t always been like this. Fandom has NEVER been like this until recently and if you were in fandom pre-tumblr purge, pre-twitter, pre-netflix boom, pre-tiktok....then you would fucking know it was nothing like this.
We still had the drive to create. We still sold prints and charms and made zines...but it was never like this.
The introduction of streaming, binge shows that drop all at once, tiktok and vine RIP i still love u vine but you were the beginning of a particularly ugly era) creating this bite sized, quick paced ‘content’ era of creation and it bled out into fucking everything else.
Fandoms didn’t die down when the show ended or the season was over. You didn’t mass unfollow artist, writers or moots just because they changed fandoms. There wasn’t this need to please the algorithm in order for your posts to get seen by people and enjoyed.
Fandoms used to last YEARS. Star Trek is literally the oldest running fandom out there and you got people in there that could care less about the new stuff and still have been happily prancing through their fucking fifty year old fandom today. Hell, even SPN after all it’s fuckups and shitshows has a dedicated fanbase STILL creating tons of art and fic.
There is no patience anymore. No calm feeling of taking in fandom and friends at a pace that which doesn’t make you stressed and is still fun.
Do I blame fandom for this? Of course not, but people are complacent with it and start changing their vocab to accommodate and end up making the situation so deep it cant be fixed.
We call Art & Fic Content now, completely stripping the value of what it is to a level of consumerism instead of personal entertainment & community bonding.
#vent post#sorry for another vent#I saw a few tags and comments in that last vent that just make me angry
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I would give anything to know Ghost’s inner monologue during any part of the last fic you posted. Is he purposefully getting into her space at the beginning (because we all know Ghost is too aware of his body and his trauma to accidentally touch anyone, let along have his entire side against them)? When he walks in does he just blue-screen, is that why he doesn’t immediately leave? What is he thinking when he sees our wet cunt still stuffed? When he finds out no one has touched us that way, or made us cum? When we want him to fuck us so badly we beg him to do it raw? Does his heart break a little when he heard us say we thought he left us, while we were so vulnerable and still dirty? Is he also freaking out about the fraternization stuff, or has he decided that we are his in the same way that he is ours, and Price will just have to cover up another damn thing for his team?
yes to all of this
(a little drabble part 2 to this)
Ghost has a little habit, when you're concerned. He's usually hyper-aware of his body and his limbs and where he's touching, what's around and beside and behind him. His skin itches sometimes when he's touched without warning, though he always hides his reactions. But with you... he's not so careful. He lets his legs spread, his arms stretch, lets himself crowd into your space. There's something intoxicating about the way that you let him, the way you never lean away from him. You're just so soft, so warm, always letting him infringe on your space with a sweet little smile as though you're happy to see him. You're one of the rare people who are happy to see him, and it makes something uncomfortably warm wriggle in his belly.
So yeah, he leans into you when he sits next you in the rec room. It's mostly muscle memory, because you've never minded before. But today, you're a little tense. Ghost knows you, knows you well. He can see the way your spine is a little stiff, the way your eyes are a little glassy as you stare off into the distance. You look a little... ruffled. Ghost watches you carefully out of the corner of his eye, probes a little, but backs off when you dance around his question. He's knows boundaries well, and he won't push yours. Even if he thinks it's... strange that you leave so quickly, eyes averted.
Finding your phone wedged into the seat after you left was like an opportunity. Simon Riley has never had much, he's always made do, and yet he's admittedly greedy when it comes to you. He's not often a selfish man - he's never had enough to be selfish about - and yet he's hungry for your time, your smiles, your touch. And you're always so generous with yourself, so he doesn't second-guess his decision to follow you down the hall to your quarters. He's never been there before, and he wants to see your space, hungry for any shred of you he can get.
He should have knocked. It was rude not to. But he's so, so fucking glad he didn't.
He's a little rough when he opens your door, a little too eager to get into the room and see your pretty grateful smile when he gives you your phone back. But when he gets that door open, sees the sight of you on your back among your sheets, legs spread, head back, eyes fluttered closed, his mind goes fucking blank.
He watches you scramble, watches the mortification flash across your face as you attempt to shut your adorable little pink vibrator off as you shut your legs, depriving him of the prettiest view he's ever seen. Ghost is not a man with a weakness for pretty things, but it seems only natural that you're the exception, you and your pretty wet puffy pussy.
He hardly even knows what happens, his fingers and toes numb and his attention narrowed down to you, only you. Before he knows it, he's sitting on your bed, feeling enormous and ungainly next to you as you stare up at him. He reaches out, his big hands scarred and ugly against your pretty skin when he holds your vibrator, his blood buzzing at the thought that this had been inside you mere moments ago.
He never thought he'd be envious of a piece of fucking plastic, but here he is. A big man, a deadly soldier, reduced to a fool at your bedside. And yet, you don't even seem to notice. You're so good, so sweet, parting your legs when he asks you to and letting him look.
He asks you to finish. It's bold, and stupid, and greedy. He wants to see you come - he already knows it'll be the prettiest thing he's ever seen, that it'll be seared in his mind forever. In this moment, he thinks he'd do anything just to watch your eyes roll back, your face go slack, to hear the pretty little noises he knows you'll make.
It escalates faster than he could have imagined. Such a sweet thing, laying back and showing him how you use your vibrator. And he watches eagerly, his breath catching at the realisation that this is how you play with yourself when you're alone. You're clumsy about it, which is absolutely adorable.
But then you make a confession, and Ghost thinks he might be spiralling. You've never been touched, never been fucked, never come. It feels like an outrage. He thinks of how tense you'd been earlier, shifting beside him in your blue jeans, and he just thinks... what the fuck? Prettiest girl he's ever seen, and you don't even know how to touch your own cunt properly? He wants to show you, more than anything he's ever wanted before. Greedy. You make him so greedy.
"Let me try."
He's between your legs before he even knows how he got there, pulling your stupid little vibrator out so he can replace it with his fingers. And if he thought he was greedy, he soon finds that he's well-matched when it comes to you. You're just as eager, just as hungry. Spreading your legs and whimpering, all those sweet, sweet noises that spill out of your mouth, just like he knew they would.
You have the prettiest cunt he's ever seen. Pretty, slick, swollen, just as hungry as the rest of you. He alternates between his fingers and his mouth and your little dildo, a little drunk on your taste and your soft thighs when they squeeze around his head. He kisses you too, because he can't help himself. Greedy.
He's never been a chatty man, but his cock is so hard now and he knows his mouth is running. He can't help himself. Your salty-sweet slick on his tongue has loosened it; he barely even knows what he's saying, or what he's promising, but by god he's going to live up to it.
Then, your lovely sweet voice, all breathless and pitchy, asking “Can I try yours?”
Not only that, you beg. You plead with him to fuck you, to do it raw, as if he was ever going to say no. As if he'd ever be strong enough to say no. He can hardly handle hearing you beg like that; he feels as though he's going to blow before he even gets his cock inside you.
In his wildest dreams, he never imagined you so needy. You writhe, you're soaked, you make the most heart-stopping little noises deep in your throat when he presses inside. You're so hot and wet and tight that it feels as though you're about to squeeze his cock right off, and he tries so hard to feed it to you slow, to give you time to take him. You're so good, taking him even though you struggle a little. He's not a small man, certainly not an easy man to take inside of you for your very first time, but it's a testament to how slick and eager you are that he slides in with minimal effort.
After that, he loses himself. Hardly even knows what's he's doing, working based on pure instinct, filling and fucking you until he's losing his breath. God, you're beautiful, and he clenches his jaw hard to bite back his orgasm - he has to focus on you, only you while the tears are streaming down your pretty face as you gasp and cry for him.
He can see your orgasm creeping up on you before you recognise it yourself. When it hits you, it's a whole body event. Your back arches, legs spasm, stomach trembles, eyes roll back. Your cunt clenches down so fucking tight that it's a little bit painful. Simon doesn't dare blink - he's never going to fucking forget this. Your very first orgasm, and you're experiencing it on the end of his cock.
He loses it a little after that, his thoughts fizzing and slipping from his grasp as he loses his coordination. By the time he comes inside of you, cock throbbing and skin tightening, he's already decided that he's going to have to make you come again. Once isn't enough, not for someone as hungry as him. Or you.
He thinks he might have fucked you stupid. Your eyelids are fluttering and your lips are parted, but you're a little bit dead to the world. It's cute. He feels his pride swell, smug at the thought that he's fucked you so good that he's sent you reeling off into dreamworld.
He leaves, only for a moment, unable to be away from you for too long. He just wants to get a cloth, something to wipe you off with to make you all clean and fresh again. You're already awake when he comes back, though you're still hazy and clumsy and all teary-eyed.
He's happy to wipe you clean, despite your quiet mewling complaints, and then he hauls himself into your bed just so he can curve his big-ass body around your smaller one, relishing your sweet softness. God, he's wanted to hold you like this forever, but he's still a little nervous about hurting you. Killing and maiming and hurting have been the only things he's been really good at his whole life, and he's irrationally fearful of moving wrong and hurting you, even after the sex. Or maybe especially after the sex.
He can see your brow crease, the uncertainty in your eyes. He realises you're probably a little uncertain about where you stand with him, or what this is. That's fair. Simon has never been the most demonstrative man, but he's also been the type to cling on like a tick to the things he values, the things he wants to keep safe. He holds you, checking his strength, proud to be able to keep you safe in his arms.
He's going to make sure that you don't worry about it either. Your hair smells sweet, your skin is so warm, and your ass is so soft where it's pressed against his crotch. He's reaching for you before he can think about it, and his heart pulses hard when you spread your legs for him so easily. God, he's gonna ruin you. Just like he promised.
#asks#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley smut#simon riley x reader#ghost x reader#cod smut#drabble
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I COULD DO THIS FOR HOURS
G. Satoru — さとる ⋅ fem reader
🔞 mdni / mdnr / smut / n.sfw / 18+ content
NOTE: i took a 3 am thirst draft and made it a fucking fic wtf 🥴 i'm so dizzy over this one idk why i usually don't drool for my own smut but god damn this one is special to me. ik i post a lot about gojo atm and it's because i love him no apologies 👍
SUMMARY — making a cheeky comment leads to a long, steamy session in the bedroom with your husband, who's got a point to prove.
WARNINGS — nasty smut 🤤, rough sex, namecalling/nicknames (b*tch, good girl, baby, dirty girl, sweetheart), he's kinda mean, hubby gojo, multiple rounds, unprotected sex, multiple creampies, messy/sweaty sex, daddy kink, p*ssy kiss (1), long session (3h), overstim, dirty talk (teasing, sweet, mean), incl. aftercare, lmk if i have missed smth thank u
WORDCOUNT ≈ 1.3k
PLAYME — daddy
🍒 — J ⋅ reblogs and comments help a lot ! enjoy reading :)
Your husband didn’t like that cheeky comment you made about his stamina and how fast he cums. He thought you were being pretty hypocritical, considering the fact that you cum sometimes solely because of lazy clit thumbing and shallow strokes.
“ Baby, careful what you say to me. “ he smiled at you in the kitchen, serenely washing the dishes after dinner. “ You know damn well that I could go for hours straight with no breaks. The only reason I don’t do that is because you’re too weak to handle it. ” he boasted confidently.
You scoffed and rolled your eyes at him. That scepticism pissed him off so much that he stopped cleaning the dishes and violently threw the towel down. Your giggles rung sweetly in his ear while he scooped you off your feet and tossed you over his broad shoulder, strong build carrying you to the bedroom like he was on a mission.
He threw you down on the bed with the same force that he threw the towel down with, his hands quickly finding his phone and setting a stopwatch.
You were already giggling apologies, but he wasn’t listening. He tossed his phone onto the bed and dented the mattress with his weight as he climbed on top of you, feverish kisses nearly knocking the wind out of you.
“ I’m sorryh – mmf – ‘toruh – didn’t meanh ih – I’m sorryyy. ”
“ Save your sorries and spread your legs. Gonna have to be a little rough with you, angel. But you like that, huh ? Yeah ? Like it when daddy’s rough ? Mhm, I know. Probably like it when I’m pissed off like this, too.
You smiled. “ Yeahhh, I love it. ”
He smirked. “ Dirty girl. ”
Folding you in half and sinking his cock inside you, it felt like he was your enemy for a second with how he beat up your gummy walls with his mean cock; you were giggling and squirming about his playful roughness in the beginning, but now? You’re screaming, going dumb and limp. It makes him chuckle.
“ Fuck, baby, just look at you. ” he cooed, “ . . . just cumming over and over on this dick like a dumb bitch. I told you that you wouldn’t be able to handle it, didn’t I ? Uh-huh. I fucking told you so. Keep it together, it’s only been twenty minutes. Haha . . . and you were the one talking shit about my stamina ? Come on, apologize to me. Good girl. Tell daddy how sorry you are – haha, you cummin’? Yeah, ‘can feel your pussy fuckin’ pulsing ‘round me – fuck that’s good. You like it when I’m mean, don’t you ? ”
“ Y-yesss ! Love it love it s'much Sa—to—ruuuh ! ” you panted frantically, body jiggling like jelly with each harsh thrust.
“ So cute and dumb. ” he cooed tenderly, as if he wasn’t rearranging your guts and breaking the bed.
“ Feel that, sweetheart ? Feel me sweating ? I know you like it when I’m this close, ‘like it when you can feel the sweat drip off my abs ‘n rub against your tummy ? Yeah, I know. Damn dirty bitch. Nah-uh, eyes on me. ‘S only been an hour don’t zone out on me. ”
Really, the concept of time flew out of your head when you were laying there taking him.
You’re shaking, gummy walls and sweet spots being beat up by your husband’s mean, yummy cock. The pressure inside you builds and builds until it snaps, and you scream his name in such a high pitch that it almost makes his ears ring. He laughs a little, watching as you writhe, trapped under his beefy body. He relishes in the feeling of your pussy pulsing as you cum, it brings him close, too. Before you know it, he’s pumping his cream deep inside, pounding into you like he’s trying to ruin your pussy and reshape it to fit only his cock.
“ Fuckin’ takin’ it so well, angel. Now ‘gimme another round. Get on your tummy – there we go, aw your legs are numb ? I don’t care. It’s only been an hour. You can hold on longer than that, can’t you ? ”
From the back, he fucks you so sensually and deeply that the two of you sweat sweat sweat it up. He insistently bundles up with you under the covers to make it extra toasty. The smell of sex is hot and pungent in your lungs, and inhaling yours and his arousal and scent of cum drives him crazy. Bodies wet and slippery, he’s made a sloppy mess of you before but not quite like this; his cheeks dampen, his hair sticks to his forehead; there’s little rivulets of sweat running down the center line of his abs, following along his v-line. There’s an ache in your thighs, you’re getting overstimulated but it’s so good. And listening to his ragged, heavy breathing behind you just brings on another orgasm.
“ Fuck, baby, ‘wish you could see yourself from this angle. ” he groans erotically, brows finally knitting together tightly as he loses composure and succumbs to his own sensitivity. “ Oh, angel, just cum. Don’t hold it in – cum cum cum yeahhh there we go – that’s my fucking girl. Cumming so pretty on this dick. You’re so fucking beautiful, ‘m gonna cum too. Sh-shit look at all that frothing up, feel that ? ‘so gooey and nasty. Hahhh-ahah I’m cumin’ – cumminggg ~ ”
You can practically hear the hearts in his voice when he cums, vocals straining and rasping against the nape of your neck. He lets out this one last primal sound before pumping you full of another load of thick creamy cum. You can feel him pulsing and twitching. He presses his weight onto your back a little too much, you can feel the tones of his sweaty torso and how wet and hot his body is.
“ Haha . . . fuck . . . ” he runs a hand through his hair, smiling down at the pretty mess on his dick. “ Baby, you did so good for me. You okay ? Did I go too hard ? ” he asks tenderly, nuzzling the back of your neck, just listening to your shaky breaths as you come down from your high.
“ I can’t feel my legs. ” you swallow, dazed smile on your face. “ So good . . . ”
“ Aw, sorry, angel. I’ve got you, come here. Ooh – where’s my – phone – let’s see how long you endured me for. ”
“ Felt like . . . forever . . . ”
He chuckled under his breath at that and leaned off the bed, reaching for his phone that had fallen right off the edge when he was making the bed violently shake earlier.
“ Ooh ! Baby, we’ve got a new record. Three hours. ”
“ Oh my god, no wonder I can barely fucking move . . . you’re a menace. ”
He smiles cheekily, “ Wanna make it four ? ”
“ Are you crazy ?! ”
“ Yes, of course. Don’t you love me for it ? ” he coos in a sultry voice, coming to press a loving kiss to your damp cheek.
You feel his weight lift off the bed, you tiredly peek at where he’s going and – of course, like the sweet husband he is, he’s getting you a towel. You can hear his exhausted huffs of breath. There’s cream running down your slit, some smeared across your pussy and frothed up.
He comes back into the room, smiling admiringly at your sleepy body. You’re sinking into the pillows, too tired to think.
“ ‘toru . . . ”
“ Angel ? ” he hums in response, slowly starting to clean you up from the thighs up. You feel his big hands massaging the numbness out of your legs.
“ I love you. ”
He smirks and presses a kiss to your pussy from the back, making you giggle. “ Love you too, my girl. No one makes me feel better than you do. Come here. Haha, are your legs still numb ? Should I massage them more ? M'kay, sweet girl. ”
The silence is sweet and long. He's massaging your body, feeling over you like you're his little masterpiece, his little angel.
Then he breaks the silence.
“ Told you so. ” he smiles victoriously.
You groan. “ Shut up. I was just teasing when I said you had shit stamina ! ”
“ I know, but I still hated that you said it and felt the need to prove a point. ”
You snuggle into his chest, making his heart flutter like he's a boy with a crush again.
“ Yeah yeah, point proven. ”
“ Aaand what's the point ? Tell me, I wanna hear it. ” he teases.
“ You can go on for hours. ”
He smiles to himself. “ Damn right I can. Glad my good girl learned her lesson. ”
© arminsumi
Do not plagiarize / repost / translate / copy layouts / etc.
Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.
#mdni#smut#gojo smut#gojo x fem reader smut#gojo satoru smut#jjk smut#jjk x reader smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#gojo x you#gojo x y/n#gojo#gojo satoru#satoru gojo#satoru gojo smut#jjk#jujutsu kaisen gojo#gojou x reader#jjk gojo#gojo x reader#jujutsu gojo#gojo saturo#jujustu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen#satoru#gojo x fem reader#gojo satoru x fem reader
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I know this is like so random but do you have any geto, gojo, nanami, or megumi ao3 recs because the only good fics I’ve read of jjk are ones you’ve written 😭
you have come to the right place :,) i post more recs than fics at this point haha
most of these are copy pasted off previous rec lists but have been added onto! the ones with green + marks are NEW RECS
here's a post on how to use ao3 to find fics by yourself for those who dont know <3
gojo + ao3:
+ intrinsic warmth: my favourite fic of all time. like genuinely. insane writing, fucking amazing in every sense of the term. 2nd time recommending this! reader's character is so sick BUT updates real slow (which isnt a bad thing!! good things take time!!) so i wouldn't read if you aren't patient // 122k words, 15 chapters, incomplete
+ ripverse: not really a series, more like a compilation of fics! it's got a lot of angst and the one titled 'interlude' contains smut i think so beware, and it's also a lovetriangle/poly-but-geto-goes-crazy-so-not-poly moment // 55k words, 8 pieces
+ the witches' brew: super cute fluff! reader owns a cafe, gojo is a regular, it's all around adorable // 2 chapters, 11k words, completed
+ all that is solid melts into air: arranged marriage trope! i haven't read but @/aanobrain loves this one // 7k words, 1 chapter, complete
+ cake batter: established relationship w/ dad!gojo & megumi <33 not much to say, just short n sweet, i am such a sucker for dad gojo so its no surprise there's one of these on the list.. // 2k words, 1 chapter, complete
+ best of luck: initial concept is really unique!! confessions, slight angst, takes place at the beginning/middle-ish of s1 i think? so cute loved this <;3 // 5k words, 1 chapter, complete
+ afternoon tea(se): gojo torturing megumi. classic !! so so cute love the banter // 1.7k words, 1 chapter, complete
+ my apologies, gordon ramsay: god i hate this man. jk. reader is a teacher and a functional human being; gojo is not. loved! // 8k words, 1 chapter, complete
+ a name known only to paper: platonic, angst- beautifully written, such a unique idea. reader is gojo's older sibling. // 3k words, 1 chapter, complete
+ heart beats: another collection! i looove gojo in this so so cute i also adore bff nanami in the last one haha // 11k words, 3 pieces
+ exposure therapy: this is 1/2 of a 2 piece collection. when i read this for the first time i was floored- i love the creative take, and the reader's character (it was a 'she's so me' moment). this author writes with such a subtle but unadulterated take on love and i adore it // 5k words
+ how to be a human being: 2/2 of the previous rec and the perfect continuation in every sense of the term. oh my gosh, is this masterful- from the relationships & writing of megumi and tsumiki to gojo (i almost forgot this was a rec for him) it's all around amazing // 20k words
+ the sanctity of a name: SO SENTIMENTAL !! what an adorable work that rly goes into the psychology and significance of his technique + upbringing. so real and raw and very him // 2k words, complete, 1 chapter
+ assumptions: omf jealous gojo...... he's so cute in this!! you guys are married and it's almost his birthday, but while you're planning his surprise party he suspects something else.. // 6k words, 1 chapter, complete
+ even with the lights off: RAHHHH another fic that has me floored and pushing the #saveijichi agenda at the same time // 8k words, 2 chapters, complete
nanami + ao3:
+ math help: dad!nanami w son!yuuji.... yeah that's all i really need to say i think! // 1 chapter, 2k words, complete
+ photo albums: nanami shares abt his childhood! // 1k wc, 1 chapter, complete
+ i don't really read for nanami but i would check out @aanobrain and maybe shoot them an ask bc she's a big fan :)
geto + ao3:
+ lessons in love: DAD!GETO.................. im such a sucker for a good family dynamic in fics and this is adorable !! no curse au if i remember right! // 4k words, 1 chapter, complete
+ forever is in your eyes: angsty but ends in fluff :,) touches on his mental state, riko's death, all that! so sweet, i adore how this author writes him <;3 // 2k words, 1 chapter, complete
+ ripverse: not really a series, more like a compilation of fics! it's got a lot of angst and the one titled 'interlude' contains smut i think so beware, and it's also a lovetriangle/poly w gojo-but-geto-goes-crazy-so-not-poly moment // 55k words, 8 pieces
+ dog days are over: a series!! by the same author who wrote ripverse which is how you know it's going to be brilliant !! marriage, parenthood, some nsfw moments // 30k words, 5 chapters, incomplete
+ curious cat: cat gojo and neighbor geto.. i love this one! it's so so cute and sweet, if you're looking for some light fluff this is definetely for you // 8k words, 5 chapters, complete
megumi + ao3:
+ complicit: college!au !! i remember reading this and loving it omg, the unique concept kept me hooked and interested, especially paired w the lovely writing! one of my fav series ive read. be warned, last chapter is nsfw // 18k words, 5 chapters, complete
+ a very special december 22nd: cute bday fic :,) forgive me for reccing all this author's megumi fics... theyre just too good !! i love the dynamics, all of it! // 5k words, 1 chapter, complete
+ kisses and cough syrup: THE BANTER!! THE FLUFF!!!!! i love this fic sm, so cute! // 1k words, 1 chapter, complete
+ nocturnal: establishING relationship fics are one of my fav genres and this hits the nail on the head.. he's so stupid silly in this and i know you'll love it like i do // 2k words, 1 chapter, complete
+ lover boy: 2nd year reader, annoying meddling gojo, placed at the beginning-ish where megumi gets beat tf up- what more could you ask for! // 2k words, 1 chapter, complete
+ difficult to not overthink: todo strikes again! you ponder megumi's type // 1k words, 1 chapter, complete
+ ten confessions: megumi: ten dif confessions in dif tropes each time, so they can all be read as stand-alone pieces! so so cute and beautifully written.. we all know i love a good confession // 19k words, 7 chapters, incomplete
+ therefore, i am: reader gets mixed up in the world of sorcery.. megumi's there, too! // 3k words, 1 chapter, complete
+ takes one to know one: flowershop au..... convulsing on the ground. my fav trope, ever, and so so cute oh my GOSH // 2k words, 1 chapter, complete
+ i really (x6) like you: fluff!! this is the one i linked in my og ask but it deserves a place here too <3 // 4k words, 1 chapter, complete
#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#gojo satoru x reader#nanami kento x reader#geto suguru x reader#megumi fushiguro x reader#getou suguru x reader#gojo x reader#fushiguro megumi x reader#nanami x reader#this is the most i've written in ages LMFAO and i didnt even do anything.. but look at me!! replying to an ask on time!! unheard of honestl#mitz recs
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make me late
in which spencer finds a few minutes to spare with fem!reader in the morning
18+ (smut)
warnings/tags: softdom!spence, sub reader, fingering (here we go again), 'slutty' is used to describe an action but not by spencer, spencer slaps r's ass one (1) time, (hot), mild overstimulation
a/n: apparently need to post at least one fingering fic per week or i'll fucking die. very short and sweet but as always let me know if you like it, i have a crush on all of you!
You’re used to Spencer’s alarm going off early in the morning—typically you tune it out or sleep right through it. Today, however, it rouses you more than usual. You roll over, blinking your eyes open.
“Sorry,” Spencer mutters, finally turning it off and leaning over to kiss your head. “Go back to sleep, angel.”
You wrap your arms around his torso, pulling him down again when he tries to get out of bed.
“Don’t go,” you beg into his shirt, slinging a leg over him. His hand slips under your (also his) shirt, rubbing the bare skin of your back.
“I have to. You know that.”
“I just want you to stay for a little bit,” you insist.
“No you don’t,” he drawls, voice still gravelly with sleep, “You want to make me late.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say innocently, burying your face further into his shirt as if you could extinguish the heat in your cheeks.
His hand drops from your back to reach under your thigh, pushing your underwear to the side. You gasp when his fingers make contact with your soaked core, involuntarily pressing your hips closer.
“You’re a terrible liar.”
“Stop it! That’s not fair!” You squeal, attempting to wriggle away once you regain your senses. But the bastard wraps his arm around your waist like a vice, forcing you to stay in place as he sinks a finger into you with no preamble. Instead of satisfying him with a vocal response, you keep your face hidden in the crook of his shoulder and remain obstinately silent. When he begins to slowly pump his finger, you’re forced to bite the fabric of his shirt to shut yourself up.
“If you’re not enjoying yourself, I’ll stop,” he says plainly, but obviously he knows that’s the last thing you want. His ring finger joins the other and your mouth falls open, a tiny, choked breath against his skin. “Do you want me to stop?”
Don’t give in, you say to yourself. Wait. What are you not giving in to? Fuck, that feels good. You hum quietly—an excellent display of self-control considering the noises you’re actively holding back.
“Are we already getting whiny?”
“‘m not whining,” you bite.
“You’re always whining.” There’s nothing to do but prove him right when he begins massaging that spot inside you with a practiced stroke of his fingers—the one that makes you arch your back further and spread your legs a little wider—makes you oh-so compliant and all together, a bit slutty. But Spencer has told you that by definition, you’re not a slut if it’s just him who you lose all self-respect around. “My pretty girl feels so good, huh?”
You agree with a mindless mumble, forgetting that you were ever going to try and fight the pleasure.
“It feels so good.”
“I can tell, baby. Listen to the mess you're making.”
Soft, wet sounds emanate from where you’re probably dripping around his fingers. A moan is muffled by his shoulder as your own fingers twist in the fabric of his shirt and sink into the flesh of his waist—though you doubt he minds.
“Please don’t stop, please please please—" It’s quiet, almost demure as you plead.
“You’re so sweet when you get like this,” Spencer coos. “I wish you were always so well-behaved.”
No, he doesn’t. Both of you know he loves fucking the attitude out of you, and at times, back into you. But you’re not in any place to correct him right now, as his fingers slip in and out of you so quickly, exactly where you want to be touched.
“Oh, right—right there, that’s—oh, god,” you squeak.
Your face is still nuzzled in his shirt, your voice is still so delicate and weak with sleep, rising in pitch with your pleasure until it breaks.
“Right here? This is where you need it?”
“Yes,” you practically cry, “I’m gonna come, Spence—” your hips rock back and forth to meet each stroke of his fingers inside you, vision going white with with pleasure.
“Yeah? My pretty girl is gonna come all over my fingers?”
“Mhm!” You speed up the motion of your hips. He chuckles, which might offend you if you were in your right mind, but it’s early, and you’re tired, and your soul is trying to untether itself from your body.
“Let me feel it, baby. I wanna feel you coming, can you do that for me?”
A breathy keen rushes from your throat as your orgasm begins to suck you out to sea like a riptide, flooding your lungs and blood and everything with so much easy pleasure you’re barely awake and you don’t care one bit.
“Uh-huh, good girl,” Spencer murmurs, not letting up with his fingers as you fall through your orgasm. Another choked moan takes you by surprise when his free hand falls with a heavy clap to your ass, before rubbing the stinging flesh. “Let go a little bit longer, baby, I’m right here.”
You’re barely breathing, still seeing stars as he continues to fuck you leisurely with his fingers, more out of pure affection than anything else. Eventually he slips them out, teasing gently over your clit as your stomach tenses. But you let him keep going. You’ll do anything to keep him in bed for a few minutes longer. To that end, you gather enough breath to speak.
“Can you please fuck me?”
He hums pityingly, moving his hand from between your legs to lovingly soothe the tender skin he’d slapped just a moment ago.
“You know I can’t, baby. I shouldn’t have even done this. I really have to get a move on.”
“But you did do this,” you say, eager to point out the fallacies in his argument, “which means you could also have sex with me and we could be really fast and you could just take less time getting ready for work.”
Your chin is now resting on his shoulder as you look up at him with wide, imploring eyes, and he leans down to kiss your nose.
“The answer is going to stay no, sweet thing. I don’t care how much you beg.”
He’s already gently sliding you off of him and getting out of bed as you pout. A few moments pass, and you can’t think of a good retort as he moves about the room, gathering a towel for his shower and digging through the dresser.
“You’re mean.”
“Aw, poor baby. You only got to come once. Nobody has ever had a harder life than you.” Spencer dodges the pillow you throw and laughs, coming back to lean over the bed as you glower at him. “I’m sorry I woke you up. If you can’t fall back asleep in the time it takes me to shower, I’ll make you fancy coffee.”
“Fine.”
“And I’ll be extra nice to you when I get home.” He kisses your head and then your lips, and then disappears into the bathroom.
In a completely predictable turn of events, you’re dead to the world by the time he gets out of the shower. He makes you the fancy coffee anyway, leaving it in a thermos on your nightstand.
He’s late to work. He can't pretend to be sorry.
#spencer reid#spencer reid smut#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fic#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid x you#spencer reid fanfiction#criminal minds smut#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds
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What Am I To You?
Bucky Barnes x Reader One-Shot: SMUT
Summary: You pissed your fuck buddy off and now he only has one question, but it takes a few orgasms to get the right answer out of you.
Warnings: profanity, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, facesitting, light choking, light breeding kink, no use of y/n, praise, spanking, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!
Feel free to comment and let me know if this requires any other warnings. Thank you to @littlemiss-yeehaw for the ones listed above, she's a gem.
Word Count: 4.4k
A/N: This filth came from a random 4am thought that created the dialogue in the first paragraph. I had to use it. Everyone should totally beg @littlemiss-yeehaw to post the horny lil sketch she started for this one-shot. Side note, should I start a tag list for people who want to be tagged in all fics I post? Idk, I'm still way too new to Tumblr to be running a blog like this lmfao. I need a team of advisors.
“Do you know who the fuck you’re talking to? Get on the bed, I’ll show you.” You stay where you are, standing in the doorway of his bedroom with your arms crossed over your chest in a show of defiance. “Get on the fucking bed, right now.” He repeats, pointing a finger at his bed. You can tell by the look in his eyes that he’s seconds away from dishing out a punishment, one that he’ll enjoy far more than you, so you shuffle forward and crawl onto the bed as he watches. Good girl.
You’ve been here before. You know what he wants from you. He wants you on your hands and knees, with no looking back over your shoulder to see what’s coming. So that’s how you settle yourself, on your hands and knees, staring down at the soft, ruffled up bedding beneath you.
“What am I to you?” He asks, his tone scarily calm and even. You take a deep breath and close your eyes. What kind of answer is he looking for? You’re just fuck buddies. You use each other to de-stress after missions. It’s never been anything more, not once in the past two months that it’s been going on has there ever been so much as a hint that it could be something more.
“I don’t know.” You answer honestly. You listen intently as the familiar sound of Bucky’s belt buckle coming undone fills the silence in the room. A chill races through your body, dancing across the surface of your skin and leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.
“You don’t know…” Bucky tsks. You can’t see him, but he’s standing a couple of feet away from the foot of the bed, letting his eyes rake over your nearly exposed ass as he unbuttons his shirt. The little black dress that you’re wearing barely covers anything with the position you’re in, and he’s fucking thankful for it. In fact, if you hadn’t pissed him off tonight, he probably would’ve found some way to fuck you during the mission just because of that dress. But you pissed him off. “I’ll help you figure it out.” Bucky steps forward now, his warm right hand and cool, metal left hand both gracing the skin of your right ankle as he begins taking off your heels. He drops one to the floor before moving on to the other, and then he strips his shirt off and tosses it to the side as well.
“I thought we were just—”
“You don’t want to finish that sentence.” Bucky warns, effectively cutting you off and giving you a chance to save yourself. It’s beyond clear now that this isn’t just a fuck buddies situation to him anymore. It did start out that way though. Two months ago when you two stumbled into bed together, he proposed a friends-with-benefits type of relationship so casually that you would’ve thought he’d had plenty of them in his lifetime. It worked so well, with the two of you meeting up once or twice a week at either your place or his to blow off steam with good sex. It wasn’t until you were a month in that Bucky started to realize he hated the way you’d leave within half an hour of finishing each other off. He hated that you never slept over. He hated that you still had the freedom to talk to other guys, hell, you could even go out on dates with other guys if you wanted and he wouldn’t be able to say shit about it. Because this was nothing. It was just a casual agreement between friends.
Bucky trails his fingers along your calves slowly, taking his time as he decides what he’s going to do with you. Every other time that you’ve been together, he’s let it be a mutually beneficial thing. There was never a time where only one of you pleased the other, because that would’ve defeated the purpose of the arrangement. He would’ve been perfectly content with solely pleasuring you here and there, giving you everything while taking nothing for himself, but you always reciprocated and he never stopped you. But now, he’s going to do exactly what he wants. He’s going to show you what he is to you in the best way that he knows how: by making you come undone for him, by reminding you that no one else has ever or will ever make you feel the way that he can.
As Bucky pulls his hands away from your calves, you hear the sound of his pants dropping to the floor, the sound of his dog tags shifting around his neck and tapping against his bare chest with his movements, and then the sound of a deep sigh leaving his lips. Anticipation courses through your veins and mixes with adrenaline, creating a dangerous compound that only seems to encourage the wetness seeping into your panties. You shift on the bed, wiggling your hips and wishing you could clench your thighs together for even the smallest amount of friction. Bucky, of course, notices you moving and quickly gains control of the situation.
“Impatient, huh? Do you need something?” He questions slyly, letting his hands connect with your calves once again. You’re fooled by his gentle touch, your body not at all expecting his flesh hand to suddenly smack against your ass. “Answer me.” Holy shit. He’s never been quite like this with you before.
“I need you.” You answer, hoping he’ll give you anything in return.
“You don’t even know what I am to you, yet you need me?”
“Bucky…” Your voice trails off as his hands glide further up your legs, past the crooks of your knees and along the sides of your thighs. When both of his hands reach the curve of your ass, he begins pushing the hem of your dress up around your waist. The silence is deafening.
He wasn’t planning to be so rough with you, but as soon as his eyes land on the tiny black thong that was previously hidden beneath your tiny black dress, his hands start functioning on autopilot. A low groan rumbles past his lips as he pulls your panties to the side with his vibranium hand and shoves two fingers into your cunt, without a single breath of a warning.
“BUCKY!” You cry out, arching your back and trying to pull away from him. He moves his vibranium hand to grip your left hip, holding you firmly in place while his fingers are still buried knuckle-deep within you. Giving you little time to adjust, he begins sliding them in and out, in and out, giving himself a chance to feel how wet and tight you are for him. Fuck. It’s going to test every bit of his resolve and self-discipline to get through what he plans to do to you tonight.
“That’s it, say my name.” He encourages you, pumping his fingers in and out at a steady pace. When he leans in and attaches his lips to your clit, you fist the bedding in both hands and squeeze your eyes shut. Breathy moans and curses fall from your lips as his tongue circles over the most sensitive part of your body, all while his two fingers are curling inside of you. You’ve never been one to go careening toward an orgasm with little-to-no effort, but Bucky is skilled. That familiar knot is twisting tighter and tighter in your lower stomach as he relentlessly toys with your pussy. He can tell you’re already close to your first orgasm of the night, and as much as he wants to withhold it until you admit that he means something to you, he wants to see you come undone for him even more.
“Bucky, I’m close.” Your voice is breathless, all of your energy is focused on actively denying yourself of your release. For the briefest second, you wonder why your body won’t just go ahead and cum, but then you realize that you want his permission. You want him to tell you to let go, to cum on his fingers and lips. Bucky fucks his fingers into you a little harder and deeper, reaching a spot that has your eyes rolling back in your head and your toes curling. Another loud moan from you has Bucky digging his vibranium fingers into your hip with enough force to leave bruises. He knows you’re right on the edge, and it takes him only a second to figure out why you’re not letting go. He pulls his head back for a moment but lets his fingers continue their work.
“Do you want to cum for me, baby?” He asks. There’s a teasing lilt to his voice that sends heat rushing to your cheeks. You nod your head fervently and he chuckles at your neediness. “Who gets you this wet? This desperate for release?” Fuck.
“You, Bucky.” You moan out your response as he pulls his fingers nearly all the way out and slides them back in at the slowest pace yet.
“Who else?” He demands to know, picking up the pace once again.
“No one, only you.” Your answer is honest and it earns you his mouth back on your clit. He sucks and licks at it like his life depends on your impending orgasm. He gets you right back to the edge within seconds, before breaking away from your clit momentarily just to say cum for me. Your orgasm washes over you in an instant, your pussy clenching down on his two fingers as you unintentionally grind against his mouth. He flattens his tongue against your clit and lets you take everything you need. After a few more seconds of immense pleasure, the legs and arms that have been so dutifully holding you up are threatening to collapse.
“What am I to you?” Bucky repeats his question from earlier, but still, your answer is the same.
“I don’t know.” Your voice is quieter now, weaker since the first orgasm took so much energy out of you. Bucky shakes his head, though you can’t see him from your current position. He didn’t think you’d have a better answer after just one orgasm, but he’s going to give you a chance after each one anyway.
“Lay on your back.” Bucky commands. You do as you’re told. As you finally make eye contact with him, he can see the thankfulness in your gaze. You were getting tired of holding the same position. Bucky steps forward and places one knee on the bed, his hands sliding up your thighs. His fingers snag along the waistband of your thong before he begins pulling it down your legs. You bend your knees to make it easier, and he slips it off gently before dropping it on the floor with your heels and his clothes. He climbs onto the bed now, your legs instantly spreading to let him between them. He crawls over your body and the new sensation of his warm skin against yours is delicious. You wish he would’ve taken your dress off already. When you feel the outline of his hard cock, still covered by his boxers, pressing against your wet, sensitive cunt, your eyes flutter closed and your legs instinctively wrap around his hips. You’ve always been a sucker for this, for having him pressed against you so close yet not close enough. It’s always made you a bit feral and Bucky’s fully aware of that. A knowing smirk spreads across his features as he puts a little more weight into your position, pressing his cock against you a little harder. When you open your eyes and look up at him, he has to remind himself that he can’t just give in a fuck the shit out of you right now. He has an end goal.
“Why do we still have clothes on?” You ask, referring to your dress and his boxers. Bucky chuckles lowly starts circling his hips against you, drawing a soft hum from your pretty lips. He dips his head down and starts leaving light kisses along the side of your neck. He knows that’s a weakness of yours too, his mouth anywhere on your skin. It’s one of the first tactics he deploys when he wants to fuck but he isn’t sure if you’re up for it or not.
“Do you want our clothes off?” Bucky breathes the question against the skin just below your earlobe and you find yourself having trouble concentrating. He can feel you nod, but he doesn’t actually give a damn about what you want right now. He’s not a monster though, so he’ll give you half of what you want. He pushes himself off of you in one swift movement and stands on the floor beside the bed. You turn your head to watch as he slides his boxers down his legs and kicks them off. They join the pile that consists of the rest of his clothes, your heels, and your thong on the floor. When he returns to his position on top of you, you stick out your bottom lip in a pout over him not removing your dress. He’s quick to lean in and suck that bottom lip in between his teeth, biting down on it lightly before slipping his tongue into your mouth. He always tastes so fucking good, though you can never pinpoint what he tastes like. It’s just him. Honestly, you’d let him spit in your mouth if he wanted to.
Bucky kisses a lot like he fucks, with so much passion that it makes your heart race and your mind reel. It makes you think about how mediocre every other kiss with any other guy was, about how kissing was just a minor part of foreplay until you started kissing him. Now kissing is everything. Your hands travel up his sides and settle on either side of his face as you fight to deepen the kiss. When you suck on his tongue, he groans into your mouth and pulls back. You love the way his lips and nose get pink when he kisses you like that.
“No more kissing.” Bucky rasps. You let out a whine that makes his cock twitch. He loves hearing how needy you are for him, but it’s especially enjoyable when he hears how needy you are just for him to kiss you. He starts grinding his now bare cock along the folds of your pussy with just the right amount of pressure, focusing his efforts on your clit. He probably should’ve used his mouth and fingers again for this one, because he’s far too close to cumming just from feeling how wet you are against his shaft. His cock collects your wetness more and more with each thrust of his hips, and for a second he thinks about just letting the tip slide in. He won’t do it though, not yet. He won’t put his cock inside of you until he’s ready to make you cum for the third time.
“You’re being a tease tonight.” You pout, letting your hands find his hips and using your grasp there to pull him harder against you. He stills himself and you let out a frustrated sigh. Why isn’t he giving you more?
“You’re being greedy. You already came once, you should be saying thank you.” Bucky retorts, pushing himself up with his hands and sitting back on his knees between your legs. Your eyes are quick to zone in on his cock, just as his flesh hand is wrapping around it and giving it a firm stroke from the base to the tip. God, you’ve always loved seeing him touch himself. He doesn’t do it in front of you often. Normally the two of you are quick to get down to business and just fuck, but there have been a few very memorable times where you get to see him stroke his cock right before he guides it inside of you. Your tongue darts out, wetting your bottom lip, and for a second Bucky imagines that same tongue all over his fucking cock. No. This isn’t about him tonight. This is about finally making you see what’s been right in front of you all along.
“Please.” The word leaves your lips so softly, so gently, that Bucky’s hand hesitates around his length. He’s never heard you beg before. You’ve never had a reason to, he always gave you what you needed, before you had to ask. A dark feeling settles within his chest as he realizes he likes it.
“Please?” He repeats the word, as if he doesn’t understand the meaning. You see the way his gaze changes from one of lust to one of pure desire. He wants more.
“Please, Bucky. Fuck me.” You give him the most innocent look you can muster up as you lay there in his bed with your pussy exposed and nearly dripping onto his bedding. He tightens his fist around the base of his cock and scrunches his eyes closed, clearly trying to talk himself down from blowing his load way too fucking soon. If he sits there and looks at you any longer, he won’t last, he won’t be able to make it to his end goal tonight. The only thing he can think of to keep himself on track is something that’ll easily obscure his vision of you.
“No, you’re going to sit on my face.” He says roughly, positioning himself on his back next to you. He looks over at you impatiently, he almost looks offended that you’re not already changing positions for him. You’re quick to sit up and swing a leg over his torso, straddling his chest but not making any contact with him yet. “I said my face, sweetheart.”
“I know, but—” You’re about to point out that he’s already eaten you out once tonight and you haven’t even had the chance to reciprocate, when he abruptly grasps your thighs and pulls you over his head. “Fuck.” You mumble the curse word out as he easily pulls you down, your cunt making contact with his mouth as he dives in. You can’t form a single thought as his tongue delves into you. He fucks you with it almost as thoroughly as he did with his fingers just a few minutes ago, thrusting it in and out while your clit brushes against the tip of his nose. His hands slide back to grip your ass and you have to brace your hands on the headboard to keep from putting your full weight on his face. He can feel your resistance and he hates it. He lifts you up an inch just to chastise you.
“I said sit on my fucking face, not hover over it.” He pulls you down again but this time he brings his right hand in to rub harsh circles against your clit as his tongue continues its work on your entrance. You’re panting and breaking out in a sweat within a few seconds. You still haven’t fully sat on his face, so he’s going to give you one more punishment and see if you’ll give in. His vibranium hand moves away from you and the swings back once more, slapping your ass so hard that you fall forward a bit, your cunt landing firmly against Bucky’s mouth. He hums against your pussy in approval, and the sound sends vibrations through your core. Fuck. You’re going to cum a second time and he hasn’t even fucked you yet. When he sets just the right pressure and pace with his flesh fingers on your clit, and his tongue starts lapping into you like eating pussy is his fucking career, your orgasm hits you like a freight train. Your chest is heaving and your knuckles are turning white as your death grip on the headboard threatens to bruise your palms.
“Fuck, I’m cumming. Oh my god, Bucky!” You cry the words out so loudly, yet your voice sounds so far away in your own ears as your orgasm short circuits your entire nervous system. After a few seconds, you realize you’re grinding lazy circles against Bucky’s mouth, and he’s letting you. “Shit.” You mutter, using all of your remaining strength to try to dismount his face. He grasps your thighs to stop you, and then places a long, gentle kiss right against your clit, sucking on it in the slightest bit as he pulls back. Then, he lets you go. You collapse on the bed next to him, your breasts threatening to spill over the low-cut neckline of your dress from tonight’s activities thus far.
“What am I to you?” Bucky asks a third time, rolling onto his side to face you. He gazes at you with a much gentler expression than earlier as he brushes a few loose strands of hair away from your face. He thinks you look so damn perfect like this. You always glow after sex, but after two orgasms you could be mistaken for the fucking sun.
“Bucky…” Your voice trails off as you desperately search your brain for the answer he’s looking for. He obviously doesn’t want you to say that he’s your fuck buddy, and maybe he isn’t. You probably shouldn’t feel as jealous as you do when he ends up on missions with Sharon instead of you, that’s not very fuck-buddy-friendly of you. You also probably shouldn’t hate the few minutes after sex when he’s catching his breath in bed while you’re pulling your clothes on, hoping he won’t be annoyed with how long it takes you to get out of his apartment. Maybe you’re more than fuck buddies. But still, you don’t know what to call it. “I’m not sure.”
“You’re not sure.” Bucky repeats slowly, as if he’s tasting the words. His facial expression remains gentle, but the light in his eyes darkens. “Take off your dress.” He doesn’t have to tell you twice. You push yourself up and sit on the side of the bed before pulling the dress over your head and letting it fall to the floor. You haven’t even had the chance to lay back down when he starts moving to sit right behind you, letting his legs come around either side of you so your back presses against his chest. Ah, you see where he’s going with this. The wall that you’re both now facing has a tall standing mirror, giving you the perfect view of your naked body in front of his in the dim light of his bedroom. “Look at yourself.” Bucky coos, cupping your chin with his flesh hand and tilting your head up the tiniest bit. “So fucking pretty.”
His words have you blushing for some reason. Of all of the times you’ve been naked in his bed, you don’t recall him ever saying sweet things to you just for the sake of saying them. Maybe he thought them, you wouldn’t know, but he sure as hell never said them. It sends a wave of warmth throughout your body, and your already pink-tinged cheeks take on another layer of blush. With almost no effort, Bucky places his hands on your hips and pushes you up to a standing position. He then tucks his legs between yours and then grips his cock in his hand. He gives it a few slow pumps before angling you above it and then guiding you to sit down. Right on his fucking dick. The moan that leaves your lips as your head falls back against his shoulder could’ve come from amateur porn. The penetration feels as if it’s happening in slow motion, as you take one-fourth, then half, then three-fourths, and then…his entire fucking cock inside of you.
“That’s it, baby, all of it.” Bucky begins peppering kisses across your neck and right shoulder, but his eyes are locked on the mirror, staring at where the two of you are connected. “Whose fingers make you cum?” He asks, as his right hand skims down your side, straight to your clit. He uses his middle and ring fingers to start gently massaging your already-sensitive clit. You lift your head to meet his gaze in the mirror.
“Yours.” You answer quietly, slowly beginning to slide up and down his length. You’re only moving an inch at a time, not yet adjusted nor ready to fuck his cock how it deserves to be fucked.
“Good girl.” Why does such simple praise from him make you feel like you’re having a mini orgasm on the spot? Jesus. You start fucking half of his cock now, lifting yourself up and then sitting back down, but not daring to pull off anywhere near the tip. “Whose mouth makes you cum?”
“Yours.” You say again, a little louder this time as the pleasure begins building low in your stomach once more.
“That’s right, you’re doing so good for me, baby.” Bucky picks up the pace with his hand. His work on your clit is making stars flash in your vision and your pussy continuous clench around his cock. “And who do you let cum in this perfect little pussy? Huh? Who does this belong to?” He asks, his eyes once again drifting down in the mirror until they land on where his cock is disappearing inside of you. He groans as you sit fully down on it again.
“You, Bucky.” You moan, now fully adjusted to his thick length. You start bouncing on it, unable to control yourself any longer. Bucky’s having none of that. He quickly slides his flesh hand up your stomach, between your breasts, and wraps it around your neck. He isn’t choking you, he’s merely gaining your full attention with an authoritative move. You freeze, your eyes locking onto his in the mirror as you sit there with his entire length inside of you.
“I’m going to fuck the shit out of you, and then I’m going to cum inside you so fucking deep that you might end up pregnant.” His filthy words give you as much pleasure as any touch, any kiss, any physical thing he could ever do to you. Your pussy tightens around him at the promise that he’s just spoken. “Now tell me, why would you be here right now, letting me do that? What am I to you?”
“Everything.”
Finally, you gave him the right answer.
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fanfiction#mcu#bucky barnes x you#marvel#the winter soldier#winter soldier#bucky barnes smut#smut#mcu smut#marvel smut#james bucky barnes#james buchanan barnes
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cry baby
bucky barnes x fem reader
words: 7.3k
warnings: **18+ ONLY** smüt, ed*ging, overstimulation, crying during s*ex, mentions of flushed cheeks, friends to lovers, misunderstandings, lapslock.
a/n: this is arguably one of my absolute fave fics i've ever written. she is near and dear to my heart :') i've provided the link for ao3 if you prefer to read it there! it's originally posted in two parts but i've combined them here. any and all mistakes are mine. feedback is encouraged & appreciated ♡
“the boys are running late,” natasha informs you when you make your way to the table she’s conquered in the busy cafe. “sam texted a couple minutes ago and said he and bucky got stuck in traffic.”
it’s the second tuesday of the month, which means it’s brunch day. it’s a running tradition that’s stood for the four of you since your college days. the time and place has changed over the years, but everyone does their absolute best to attend every time. these tuesdays are your favorite, naturally.
you plop into an empty chair across from her with a heavy sigh. “good, that means i have time to bitch about how fucking horny i am before they get here.”
she snorts, taking a delicate sip of her latte. “what’s new?” she wonders sarcastically.
“you don’t understand,” you begin, leaning into the table, gripping the edge tightly. “it’s been months, and not like, a few, i mean it’s coming up on a year.”
natasha’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “a year? what about that guy you went on a few dates with a while back? didn’t anything happen with him?”
“no,” you grumble, sitting back in your chair and crossing your arms. you huff. “and even if something had happened, i doubt it would have been satisfying. i can probably count on one hand the amount of times sex has been even kinda pleasurable for me.”
“sounds like you’re picking shitty partners.”
you scowl. “i know that, but it’s not my fault. all these stupid men keep promising they’re gonna fuck me ten ways to sunday and not a single one of them can even get me to wednesday.”
natasha laughs. “you poor thing.”
“you’re really not helping me here,” you whine with a pitiful pout on your lips. “you are getting routine dickings, you have sam! i am not so lucky here.” you notice her attention flicks to somewhere behind you, but you’re not finished with your rant. “nat, i’m serious. all of my sex encounters are the equivalent of asking someone to scratch my back and then they scratch literally anywhere but the spot that itches. i want to be fucked so good that i cry, just—completely reduced to tears. is that too much to ask?”
nat is hiding her smile behind her hand, amusement painted across her sharp features. someone clears their throat behind you and you pinch the bridge of your nose. sam and bucky occupy the empty seats, sam next to natasha and bucky next to you. they’re both sporting wide grins, looking far too pleased about stumbling into this conversation.
sam opens his mouth, no doubt to make a smartass comment, but you cut him off before he can get a good inhale in.
“not a fucking word,” you grouse with a finger pointed in his direction.
he presses a hand to his chest, expression offended. “i would never make a joke about your truly tragic excuse of a sex life.”
bucky snickers quietly, but turns into a cough at your glare.
“i’ll murder you,” you promise.
“leave her alone, boys,” natasha says, rolling her eyes, though she’s visibly biting back her own laughter.
you huff, digging your wallet out of your purse. “i hate all of you,” you announce before getting up and going to stand in line to order.
bucky follows a moment later, coming to stand at your side and throwing an arm around your shoulders.
“that bad, huh?” he asks.
you don’t have to look at his face to know he’s probably smirking right now.
“fuck off,” you retort, not bothering to push his arm away since you know he’d only put it right back.
“aw, come on, don’t be like that,” he jests, “you know we just like to poke a little fun.”
you roll your eyes, throwing him an exasperated look. “yeah, but that was something only nat was supposed to hear. i hate talking about sex with you and sam because you two wouldn’t understand.”
“that’s not true,” bucky insists, which makes you roll your eyes again. “it’s not!”
“first of all, sam’s got natasha, so we both know they’re more than satisfied.” bucky tilts his head in acquiescence. “and you don’t have to worry about if you’re gonna have an orgasm when you hook up with somebody. men have it so easy.”
it’s probably not the best thing to talk about in line of a busy cafe (especially since you haven’t decided between a blueberry muffin or the ham and cheese croissant, and there’s only one person ahead of you now and you’d really rather not be discussing your lack of sex in front of an innocent barista) but it sort of feels good to get this off your chest, even if it’s to bucky.
“okay, definitely not true,” he replies with a frown. “i’m not always guaranteed an orgasm.”
you give him a skeptical glance. “i find that hard to believe.”
this time, it’s bucky who rolls his eyes. “whatever, whether or not i come when i have sex with someone isn’t what i was gonna talk about when i came over here.”
the person in front of you finishes their order and then you’re stepping up for your turn.
“hi, what can i get you today?” the young barista asks with a smile.
“a large mocha iced coffee with sweet cream and a blueberry muffin, please.” you pause, contemplating, then add, “and a ham and cheese croissant.”
if you can’t get fucked within an inch of your life then food will become your lover, you reason.
“just a black coffee for me, please,” bucky tells the girl, taking his wallet out of his back pocket and handing over his card to pay before you can stop him.
“i could’ve paid for mine,” you mumble.
“you also could just say thank you,” he replies with a short laugh as he ushers you to the side to wait for your order.
you pinch his hip, pouting. “thank you.”
“why does your gratitude come with violence?” he asks, rubbing the sore spot.
“you know how i am when people do nice things for me.”
“you should be used to it by now,” he points out.
“well, i’m not,” you huff. “anyway, what did you come over here to talk about then?”
bucky reaches up to scratch the back of his neck, uncharacteristically shy all the sudden. “uh, well. i dunno, i just thought… you know, since you’re not—i mean, not that you couldn’t be, just—you haven’t been, so maybe… fuck.”
“spit it out,” you say with a giggle, wondering what in the world’s got him so tongue-tied.
“why don’t you let me?” he blurts, averting his gaze immediately after.
you tilt your head in confusion. “let you what?”
he sighs heavily, working his jaw in frustration. “you know…” he begins, digging his thumbnail into a knick on the countertop in front of you. “let me fuck you until you cry.”
“what?”
just then, your order is called. bucky quickly grabs it and turns to make his way back to the table, but you grab his arm to stop him.
“i don’t think so, you come back here right now and explain yourself,” you demand.
his eyes lift heavenward. “it’s just an idea, okay?”
“bucky, you’re talking about crossing a huge line. you can’t just throw that out all willy nilly!”
“i know,” he replies earnestly. “and it’s not—“ he grimaces at the phrasing, “willy nilly. you’re one of my best friends. i wouldn’t jeopardize that for anything, and i wouldn’t offer this if i thought that it could. this is something that’s obviously affecting you negatively in your life and i’m willing to help. i trust you, and i’m pretty sure you trust me, yeah?”
“of course i trust you,” you say, frowning.
he shrugs. “so, then it’s just… a friend helping another friend.”
“you make it sound so simple,” you muse in wonder.
“think about it?” he implores.
you swallow roughly, biting the inside of your cheek. “fine. i’ll think about it.”
he nods and walks back over to the table where sam and natasha are waiting. you hesitate for only a split second before following.
needless to say, you’re distracted for the rest of brunch.
***
you: what even makes you think you could fuck me until i cry anyway?
it’s been nearly a week, and as much as you hate to admit it, you’re actually considering taking bucky’s offer. it’s all you can think about since he brought it up. you can’t lie, you’ve always thought bucky was attractive, but ever since you were gently but firmly placed in the friend category back in university, you never allowed yourself to think of there ever being more between the two of you. he’s a wonderful friend to have and you’d have been an idiot to pass it up. bucky is kind and generous and just enough of an asshole to keep things interesting without it being a problem.
but this… this has left you reeling. why would he make such an offer after only ever keeping things strictly friendly and platonic in your relationship? and more importantly, where does he get the confidence to think he could follow through?
bucky: experience?
you make a face at your phone, furiously typing your reply.
you: ew. do you realize how douchey that sounds?
bucky: well, it’s not douchey if it’s true.
you: says you
bucky: and a few other people :)
bucky: you’d know it too if you’d let me fuck you
you exhale harshly through your nose, tapping your foot on the floor anxiously, carefully thinking of what you should say next.
you: it’s apparently a tall request, and thus far, nobody’s been able to deliver. you can understand my skepticism…
bucky: if i don’t leave you shivering and twitching with aftershocks of pleasure, in a mess of sweat and come, and tears stained on your cheeks, then i will have failed you.
your thighs squeeze together at the mental image that brings you. jesus christ, if he’s half as good at fucking as he is dirty talking then he just might do as he’s promising.
bucky: so? what do you say? wanna give it a try?
biting your lip, you give yourself a moment to weigh the pros and cons in your mind one last time.
it doesn’t take you very long to make your decision.
you: okay. we’ll try.
***
it’s a slightly overcast sunday when bucky comes over with the direct intention to fuck you. it should be weird, but strangely, all you feel is anticipation. maybe it’s because you know him so well and know that, no matter what, he’d take care of you.
(or, maybe it’s because those repressed college-aged feelings are doing their best to resurface, even though you steadfastly continue to ignore them.)
you’d taken a thorough shower earlier to ease the little bit of nerves you had when you’d woken up. cleaning up the small mess your apartment gathered over the last couple weeks helped, as well, and soon you found yourself standing in front of your lingerie drawer with your lips pursed.
you weren’t sure if you should even bother with it, but it felt you wouldn’t be putting in any effort into this encounter if you didn’t at least pick out nice underwear. so, with a pleased nod, you settle on some simple black lace panties and a matching bralette. not too much, but enough to satisfy yourself, and hopefully bucky. you pick out a simple sundress to put on over it, since you won’t be wearing much of anything once bucky gets here. that thought has you flushing, but you ignore it to put on some makeup, just to freshen up your face.
by the time he knocks on your door, you’ve already finished a glass of wine and are pouring yourself a second.
he smiles when open the door, a bit boyishly, greeting you with a quiet, “hi.”
“hi,” you return, just as soft. you open the door wider. “come in.”
he walks passed you, stopping to toe his shoes off and hang his jacket on one of the hooks.
“do you want a glass of wine?” you ask as you head to the kitchen to retrieve your own from the counter.
bucky follows, stopping in the entryway with his hands in his pockets. “no, thank you.”
you nod, taking a sip from your glass, trying to figure out what to say. the air feels a little awkward and you’re not sure how to fix it.
“nervous?” he wonders curiously.
you shake your head. “not really.”
he quirks a brow. “then what’s wrong?”
“i don’t know,” you murmur. “i guess i’m just worried we’re making a mistake.”
he hums. you take a larger sip of your wine.
with cautious steps, he comes closer to you. “what if i promise that things won’t be weird after?”
“you can’t really promise that, though.”
“sure i can,” he says, smiling. “it’s me and you. we’ve been friends for so long. plenty of people have sex and stay friends after.”
you’re not just ‘people’ to me, you think.
you sigh, frustrated with yourself. you can’t deny how badly you want this. it’s all you’ve been able to think about since that day in the cafe. but the thought of losing bucky is heartbreaking, and you don’t want your stupid horniness to be the reason that you ruin a friendship, even if he was the one to offer sex.
“why don’t we go make out on the couch for a little while first?” he suggests after a moment’s pause.
you snort, in spite of your thoughts. “like a couple of teenagers?”
his eyes crinkle on the sides when he grins. “yeah. we’ll just see how we feel about that, and if it leads to more, then…” he trails off, shrugging.
“that’s not a bad idea,” you concede.
“great! finish your wine.”
you laugh and do as you’re told, downing the little remaining wine in one go, sitting the glass down on the counter resolutely as you swallow.
“let’s do this,” you say, determined.
bucky huffs a laugh, grabbing your wrist and tugging you behind him as he makes his way to the couch. he settles slightly facing you as you tuck your legs under you beside him.
“do you wanna talk, or do you want to jump straight into it?”
“if we talk anymore i’m gonna change my mind. just kiss me already, bucky.”
“yes ma’am,” he sasses before doing exactly that.
he cups your cheek with one hand as the other is placed on your knee. he guides your face to his and kisses you chastely. you’re not sure where to put your hands at first, but you tell yourself to quit being a goober about it and place them on either side of his neck, your thumbs brushing under his jaw.
it’s an okay kiss, you have to admit, but it’s not really doing anything for you yet. he has soft lips, softer than you thought they’d be. you’re beginning to wonder if maybe this confirms you shouldn’t go any further when he tilts his head, and… hm.
he parts his lips, taking your bottom one between his, kissing it, then nipping it. you wouldn’t say the sound you make is a gasp, necessarily, but it’s close. his tongue lightly caresses the seam of your mouth and you don’t even think before you open up for him, letting his tongue sweep in, flicking against yours. you hum, scooting a tiny bit closer to him, chasing the feeling. his kisses turn insistent then, teeth biting at your bottom lip and tugging, soothing the ache with his tongue. he kisses you like a man quenching his thirst, like you’re the best goddamn thing he’s ever tasted, and it’s leaving you dizzy. you sway more into his space and he pulls away from your mouth.
“c’mere,” he whispers, gripping behind one of your knees to drag it over his hips so you’re straddling him. “much better.”
you don’t have a chance to process anything about the moment, his mouth back on yours in a blink. your fingers wind themselves into his hair, getting a good grip on it as you lick into his mouth. he lets out a soft noise at that and you try your damnedest to pry it out of him again, pressing your chest to his so there’s not even a sliver of space left between you.
his hands travel, down the sides of your torso to your thighs, back up to your hips where he holds on tight. it doesn’t take long after that before you find yourself grinding into him. you both moan at the same time, breaking the kiss to pant for breath.
you swallow roughly. “okay,” you murmur, “i think it’s safe to say this could work.”
bucky laughs quietly. “yeah? wanna move to your bed then?”
your squeeze your thighs around him, shifting minutely on his lap and feeling the beginnings of his erection beneath you. “yes,” you breathe.
quickly, you rise from your position and step back, allowing bucky to stand, then grab his hand and lead him to your bedroom. once you’re standing beside your bed, you turn to face him. he meets your halfway, pulling you into another, filthier kiss. you reach for his belt buckle, unfastening it and sliding it through the loops, tossing it to your floor. next are the button and zip of his jeans, shoved down his legs until he steps out of them and kicks them and his socks aside. he obediently lifts his arms when you slide your hands under his shirt and begin pushing it up, breaking the kiss to nearly yank it off, making bucky huff in amusement. once it’s tossed with the rest of his clothes, bucky grabs fistfuls of your dress and pulls you into him.
“my turn,” he says against your lips.
carefully, bucky helps you out of your dress, eyes raking over every bit of new skin shown to him. he bites his lip when he sees your lacy underthings.
“you got all dolled up for me?” he asks.
shifting under his stare, you nod. “wanted to look nice,” you admit.
he hums. “beautiful.”
he kisses you again, a little softer than before, but no less passionate. the urgency returns as he backs you up until your thighs hit the mattress. gently, he guides you onto your back, never breaking the kiss as he follows you down and settles over you.
you soon find yourself in need of air and pull away with a gasp. bucky is undeterred and instead presses his kisses down your jaw, to your neck where he decides to bite and suck until he’s left a mark you’ll have to reprimand him for later. he licks his way up to your ear, sucking the lobe into his mouth, drawing a whine out of you.
“bucky,” you whisper, hands gripping his sides as you squirm below him.
“hm?”
you close your eyes tightly when he makes his way back down to your collarbones.
“please,” you whimper.
“please what, sweetheart?” he asks, pushing himself up to look you in the eye.
“t-touch me,” you beg, cheeks flushing.
his lips quirk into a smile. “i am touching you.”
“bucky,” you whine.
“where do you want me to touch you, hm?” he wonders. one of his hands trails across your shoulder and down the center of your chest. “here? or… here?”
when his fingers glide, barely there, over your pebbled nipples, you push into the touch eagerly.
“or…” he continues, his feather light touch making a path down your stomach. your breath quickens in anticipation. “here?” he murmurs as his fingertips stop on your pantyline.
“yes, there, anywhere,” you agree hastily, “just —please. please, bucky, don’t tease me.”
he kisses you again, deep, full of promise. “you beg so prettily for me.”
he rearranges your positions until he’s between your spread thighs, sweeping his hands across the inside of them. he nods to your panties.
“may i?”
“yes, please,” you reply, lifting your hips to help him take them off.
he doesn’t give you a chance to close your legs in shyness, firmly grasping your knees in each of his hands and spreading them once again. the way he’s looking at you makes you feel unbelievably desirable, has excitement crawling up your spine.
“don’t forget,” you remind him, making his eyes flick up to yours in question, “you better make me cry.”
a slow, dangerous smile graces his lips. your stomach swoops eagerly.
~
a whine, high pitched and drawn out, escapes your lips. after you unwittingly challenged him, bucky took it upon himself to torture you—with sex. so far, he’s only used his fingers on you, in you, thrusting them steadily but never enough to bring you to climax. he’s taking his time and being a smug prick about it. you go to complain, again, hoping if you beg enough he’ll let you come, but before you can do more than open your mouth he’s quickening his pace.
“oh!” you gasp, clutching the sheets in your hands.
bucky slides his hand down your thigh, bringing his thumb inward to swipe around where his other fingers are buried inside you to gather your wetness and using it to rub circles on your clit. your back arches, head thrown back against your pillows as you feel your orgasm build. it’s not tears, but damn, it feels good enough.
just as you start to clench around his fingers, legs spasming, he stops.
your eyes open in a hurry, brows furrowing in confusion. “no, please, don’t stop,” you plead.
bucky smiles. “i gotta get the right build up.”
you groan in frustration. he laughs quietly and lets the inferno burning within you simmer down to embers, then starts inching his way down until he’s lying on his stomach, mouth poised above your pussy. the feel of his warm breath makes you shiver, and with no warning whatsoever, he leans in and sucks your clit into his mouth.
“fuckin’—oh my— bucky!”
you’re pretty sure you black out for the next several minutes, the only thing you’re aware of is the thudding of your heartbeat in your ears and the feel of bucky’s mouth on you. you’re lost in a mindless haze of pleasure, unable to think or feel anything else. you feel your orgasm cresting for the second time, and just as before, bucky pulls away before you can succumb to it.
“why,” you hiccup on a moan, wanting nothing more than to just come already, but he’s not letting you.
he shushes you, softly kisses your knee. sitting up to take his underwear off, bucky keeps his eyes on you, expression hungry.
“gonna take care of you, sweetheart,” he promises. “just a bit more. you’re being so good for me, yeah?”
“please,” you whimper, feeling completely pathetic.
he makes quick work of putting a condom on and then settles between your thighs. you sigh in relief when he wastes no time and pushes in, being careful not to go too fast. once he’s fully inside you, he pauses, wanting to give you time to adjust, but you’re back to whining.
“bucky, please, please just—fuck me,” you beg, squirming beneath him.
he takes mercy on you, finally, and sets a hard pace. your hands fly up to push against the headboard, moaning and gasping from his harsh thrusts, loving the stretch of him inside you. his thumb is back on your clit and you cry out, clenching hard around him, but his thrusts don’t falter. all too soon, you can feel yourself getting close. you hear your own voice chanting please, please, please, mixed in with bucky’s grunts and the sound of him fucking you.
you whimper, eyes squeezed shut as your climax hits the point of no return, crashing over you in waves. you think you might scream, but it’s hard to pay attention to anything other than the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you. part of you thinks this’ll be it, bucky will come now and then you’ll have had one of the best orgasms of your life and he’ll be on his merry way home. but no, that’s not what happens.
instead, bucky keeps thrusting relentlessly into you, dragging out your pleasure to the point of oversensitivity.
“s’too much,” you breathe, gasping for air.
bucky shakes his head, face contorted in concentration. “one more,” he tells you, voice gruff and deep.
unbelievably, you feel tears beginning to gather in the corners of your eyes. bucky’s still rubbing your clit, still keeping a steady rhythm of his hips, and fuck, he’s so beautiful. you watch him fucking you, wondering how the fuck you got to this moment, how you got lucky enough to bear witness to the sight of bucky fucking, let alone be the one he fucks. his body is ridiculous, looking like it’s carved from marble. you know how much strength it holds, as well, know that if he really wanted to, he could probably fuck you against a wall.
it’s with that thought, with the added bonus of the way bucky touches you, looks at you, like you’re something treasured and gorgeous, giving you such intense pleasure, that the tears threatening to spill over finally fall from your lashes.
bucky notices, because of course he does, and he thrusts into you just a little faster, a little harder, and your body seizes up and then you’re falling into another orgasm. it spreads through your veins, slow like honey, making sure this one settles deep into your bones. bucky groans as he, too, reaches climax, hips twitching into you in aftershocks until he stops moving altogether.
you both pant for breath, sweat gathered in every crevice on your bodies. you think you won’t be able to move for the rest of the weekend.
“need to pull out,” bucky says softly, breaking the moment.
you nod and he carefully pulls his hips back, grunting. you poorly suppress a whimper and close your legs, already hating the empty feeling.
“well,” he starts, plopping himself on his back next to you, “i think i deserve some kind of reward.”
when you turn to face him with an exasperated look, he’s got his arms crossed behind his head, a smug smile across his lips.
“how about i don’t kick you in the balls? how’s that for a reward?”
“i literally just did the impossible.”
“what, made me come twice? i can do that all on my own. you’re not special,” you retort with a huff.
he scoffs. “i fucked you so good you cried.”
“you can’t prove it,” you say to the ceiling.
“keep up this attitude and i won’t do it again,” he threatens, poking you in your side.
you wiggle away from the ticklish touch while trying to tamp down on the hope bubbling in your chest.
“oh, we’re doing this again, are we?” you say as casually as possible.
he rolls his eyes. “of course we are. now,” he sits up in your bed, stretching his arms as he stands and picks up his underwear, “i’m starving. wanna order takeout?”
well, you guess if you’d been worried about any kind of awkwardness before, you shouldn’t have. this is bucky, your best friend. he’d never let things change between you.
***
except, things kinda change between the two of you.
it’s not very noticeable at first, changes so subtle you miss them, until one day he showed up at your apartment and greeted you with a kiss. you stood frozen in your doorway as he rambled about how stressful his day had been as he kicked his shoes off. it was only when you heard him calling out from the kitchen that he was gonna eat your leftovers that you snapped out of it, yelling back that you’d kick his ass if he even touched your dumplings.
another day, he facetimes you and asks if you want to go to see that new movie you’ve been talking about.
“oh,” you’d said. “are nat and sam coming, too?”
he’d given you a funny look, replied, “no, i thought it would just be us two.”
“oh,” you said again. “okay.”
so you’d gone to the movies, let him buy you buttery popcorn and peanut m&m’s and a soda bigger than your head. he shared with you, despite your protests, and halfway through the film you felt his hand settle on your thigh. you blinked and stared at it for a beat, turning to him in question. he only smiled at you briefly before focusing back on the movie.
in between all of this, you continued calling him over for sex. honestly, how could you not? as much as you didn’t want to admit it to him, he was the best you’ve ever had. and if he’s so willing, why shouldn’t you take advantage while you can?
a week ago, though, you’d texted him and asked him to come over, replying to his question of what time and then started getting ready. you’d purchased a new piece of lingerie, a periwinkle babydoll nightie, that left very little to the imagination. it had a matching pair of panties and felt soft and luxurious on your skin. you’d taken extra time to do your hair and makeup, wanting to look like sex on legs, and you’re pretty sure you succeeded.
but when he got there and you answered the door in your sexy outfit, he didn’t see it right away. in one hand he held his phone, typing something on it, and in the other hand he held a grocery bag that you eyed curiously.
“i brought stuff to make spaghetti—“
when he did finally look up, his eyes widened and traveled the length of your body several times. you bit your lip, trying and failing to hold back your smile.
“how about we skip dinner?” you’d said, fisting his nice button-up shirt and dragging him inside your apartment. you grabbed the grocery bag from his hand and sat it on the floor, absently noting he was wearing his date jeans.
whoops, you’d thought, hope i didn’t pull him away from someone important.
you hadn’t let yourself dwell on it, standing up on your tippy toes and kissing him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. he’d returned the kiss, licking into your mouth, drawing your tongue out so he could suck on it and made you moan embarrassingly loud.
“wait,” he’d murmured, “we should eat first.”
“or, you could eat me,” you’d retorted with a giggle.
he groaned like it pained him to say no, gripped your hips hard and put a tiny bit of distance between you. the look in his eyes had made you want to find the nearest flat surface and bend over.
“why don’t you be a good girl for me, hm? let me cook dinner for us and after we eat i’ll fuck you however you want me to. okay, sweetheart?”
you whined, but ultimately agreed, knowing he’d make it worth it.
and then there’s tonight, where he came over unannounced, armed with groceries again and promising to cook you the best meal you’ve ever had. to say you were confused would be an understatement, but you also didn’t want to look a gift horse in the mouth.
it’s just… well, bucky’s not really acting like a friend with benefits. sure, you hung out alone with him all the time before, but he never once cooked you dinner, and he certainly never helped wash dishes after. you guess the hello kisses could be explained away as part of the new aspect of your relationship, but something about that didn’t sit quite right with you.
after a truly delicious dinner, you find yourself on the couch with bucky as he scrolls through netflix to find a movie to put on.
“what do you want to watch?” he asks.
“mm,” you mumble, shifting closer to start kissing his neck, “don’t care.”
as he narrows down his decision and finally picks one, you make your way up to his jaw, sucking a small mark into the skin there.
“baby,” he protests softly, “let’s just watch the movie, yeah?”
you pull back, confused. first at the pet name, then at his words. he’s never denied you before, which isn’t to say that he can’t, it’s just that he’s always seemed on board. and, you know, you thought that was kind of the whole point of this thing.
“okay,” you reply after a moment.
he gives you a smile and a sweet kiss, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you into his side to cuddle. you can’t help but frown, feeling like you’re missing something, but not knowing what it could be.
it doesn’t take long for drowsiness to creep up on you. before he showed up, you had planned on probably ordering out for dinner and going to bed early since you’d had a pretty rough day. in fact, you remember texting bucky about it just that afternoon. your eyelids get heavier and heavier, finding it harder to keep them open as the seconds pass. your head droops and in the next blink, you’ve fallen asleep.
you’re not sure how much time has passed when bucky wakes you, but you groan, pouting and burrowing into his shoulder more.
he huffs a laugh. “c’mon, sweetheart, let’s get you to bed.”
“don’ wanna move,” you mumble tiredly.
“i’ll carry you,” he offers. “up you go, baby.”
you half heartedly argue about being jostled, but let him carry you to your bed where he carefully places you, helping you out of your sweatpants and pulling your blankets up around you. you sigh in content, feeling yourself already drifting back into sleep. you hear bucky shuffling, but think nothing of it until the bed dips beside you, then feel his warm body slide in underneath the covers and press in close.
“goodnight, darlin’,” he murmurs.
you’d ask him what in the word he’s doing, but sleep is just far too enticing to ignore. you fall into slumber with bucky’s warmth along your back, his arm draped over you.
the next morning, you wake to the feeling of his fingers playing with the tiny bow on the front of your panties and his lips placing gentle kisses on your shoulder. you hum, eyes still closed, in the back of your mind thinking this is a nice way to wake up. at the sound of you, his touches get firmer, more insistent.
“good morning,” he rasps, breath tickling your ear.
you don’t really get a chance to reply. he dips his fingers into your panties, making you inhale sharply, moaning as you buck into his hand. he fingers you for a while, kissing along the column of your throat, biting and sucking marks into the skin there. when you’re begging him for more, he relents, eases your panties off and lifts your leg to slide in from behind. the angle is so nice it has you gasping.
you clutch the sheets weakly, burying your face in your pillow and muffle your whines and moans. bucky keeps a slow, lazy rhythm, acting as if he’s got all the time in the world to draw this out. it’s good, so good, and you can’t hold back your whimper when he kicks up the pace a little, tells you to touch yourself. you come seconds before he does, shuddering through it and humming happily.
as you both lie there and catch your breath, awareness trickles into your mind. you swallow roughly, staring blankly at the wall as you realize your feelings have grown far too much for this to be only casual anymore.
bucky kisses your shoulder again. “i’m gonna go make breakfast, okay? i’ll call you when it’s ready.”
“okay,” you whisper, blinking rapidly to keep tears from forming.
hearing bucky bustle around your kitchen makes your heart clench with want; want for something you can’t have.
***
bucky: dinner tonight?
you bite the inside of your cheek as you stare at the text. you know you need to cut things off with him before you get anymore hurt than you already are. it’s not fair to either of you if you continue with this arrangement when you’ve caught real feelings for him. you have to tell him, and soon. with that thought in mind, you type out a reply.
you: sure. what time?
bucky: reservations are at 8pm, i’ll pick you up by 7:45.
reservations? where was he taking you? you get another text before you can ask.
bucky: dress nice ;)
with a sigh, you text back an affirmative and try to start mentally preparing yourself for the conversation you dreaded having. you could only hope and pray that he agrees to still be your friend after.
by the time there’s a knock on your door that night, you’ve worked yourself up into an anxious mess. you open the door to see bucky standing there with a single peach colored rose and a bashful grin.
“hi,” he greets, leaning in to kiss you on your cheek. “this is for you.”
he hands you the rose and you feel your heart crack in your chest. you muster a small smile.
“thank you. let me go put this in a vase and we can head out.”
he nods and waits patiently at the door. as you fill a vase with a little water, you take a deep breath, giving yourself a mental pep talk.
this was going to suck.
the drive to the restaurant doesn’t take too long, and when you see where he’s taken you, your eyebrows shoot up. this is one of the nicer places in the city, definitely not on the affordable side. he helps you out of the car, leading you inside with his hand on the small of your back. you’re led to a small booth in a far corner with overhead lighting that feels too intimate. maybe you’d have to wait until you left to tell him…
conversation is light, a bit surface level, and you get the feeling that bucky is a little nervous. you wonder if maybe he’s gonna let you down gently first, hoping that he doesn’t, because you’d rather not cry in such a fancy restaurant.
after the waiter takes your drink orders, bucky sighs.
“okay, let me just… get this off my chest.”
oh fuck, here it goes.
“i know i’ve never really come across at the most romantic guy, especially since i’ve never felt the need to be.” he runs a nervous hand through his hair. “you’ve always been so important to me, and this last month has been so, so wonderful.”
“bucky…” you trail off, attempting to somehow stop him, but he powers through.
“i just—i never thought i’d find somebody, you know?” he says, earnest, gaze locked on yours. another crack in your heart. “especially not somebody who was my friend first, that i already had a solid foundation with. the attraction had always been there, but the friendship meant more to me, and finally allowing that to blossom into this amazing, new, fun relationship has got to be the best decision i’ve ever made.”
did he start dating someone and not tell you? oh god, has he been sleeping with someone else? at the same time? your stomach turns, eyes burning, hating yourself more and more as he speaks.
“so, i guess what i’m trying to say is,” he says, rolling his eyes at himself and smiling, “happy one month anniversary, sweetheart.”
you blink, feeling a tear slip down your cheek. “what?” you croak, beyond confused.
bucky, however, looks concerned. “baby, why are you crying?”
“i…” you blink some more, eyes flitting around the room as if you’ll get some kind of clarity that way to the situation currently happening. “what?” you repeat.
“did i come on too strong?” he asks, looking embarrassed now. “i wasn’t sure if you’d even want to celebrate, but i’ve just been so happy with you—i’m sorry, baby, i should’ve asked.”
“bucky, what are you talking about?” you finally manage, unable to keep the bewilderment out of your tone. “anniversary?”
bucky frowns. “i didn’t get the date wrong, did i?”
“no, i—this isn’t—i’m not talking about—ugh, i mean, when did we even start having an anniversary to celebrate?”
bucky’s face goes blank, sitting back in his chair. your heart is pounding wildly in your chest, so fucking confused, so fucking hopeful.
“we… we’re dating,” he says, slow, unsure. “aren’t we?”
“since when?” you ask probably too loudly, cheeks flushing.
he opens and closes his mouth a couple times. “when i asked you out?”
“bucky, oh my god, you’re gonna have to be more specific before i lose my goddamn mind. when did you ask me out?”
he huffs, his own cheeks flushing. “at the cafe! a month ago, at brunch with natasha and sam.”
your eyes widen in disbelief. “when you asked if you could fuck me until i cried?” you hiss, ignoring the scandalized look on the waiter’s face as he brings your drinks over.
smiling apologetically, you thank him and wait until he’s gone before sending a glare bucky’s way.
“that’s not how you ask a person out,” you seethe.
“i asked if you wanted to give this a try and you said yes!” he replies desperately. “i’ve taken you on dates!”
you pinch the bridge of your nose, thinking of all the times you thought he was being too romantic, more-than-friends type of behavior. you’re a fucking idiot, but god, so was he.
“at no point did you say anything even remotely close about us starting a relationship. i thought we were just fucking, bucky, i didn’t realize it was more than that!”
“you don’t—“ he starts, then stops, looking down at the plate in front of him. “you don’t want to be with me?”
“i didn’t know it was an option,” you say carefully.
“well, it is.” he meets your gaze, cautious. “i just spilled my guts to you. you know how i feel now. how do you feel? about me?”
you lick your lips. “bucky, i… i was planning to end things with you tonight.” his expression drops, even though he tries to mask it, so you’re quick to explain. “not because i don’t like you, but because i do like you and i thought you wouldn’t want anything more than just sex with me.”
“it’s never been and never could have been just sex with you,” he replies, quiet and relieved. he reaches across the table to take your hand in his. “i meant it when i said you’re the best decision i’ve ever made. i want this—the sex, the dinners, dates, all the gross and sappy shit i never wanted before… i want it all with you, if you’ll have me.”
you can’t fight the smile spreading across your lips. “of course i’ll have you, bucky.”
he smiles in return, a laugh bubbling out of him, which makes you giggle, until you’re both laughing so hard and loud that patrons from other tables are sending dirty looks your way, which only makes you laugh more.
“do you wanna get out of here?” you ask, laughter dying down. “there’s pizza and sex calling our names, i think.”
bucky moans dramatically. “i knew i liked you for a reason.”
he leaves money on the table and then the two of you quickly make your way through the restaurant, giggling and holding hands the whole way, even in the car.
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