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#and I’m throwing myself into my work to not think about My Life
crazylittlejester · 2 days
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I’m gonna go on a crazy ass rant because I’m upset and also very tired
A huge reason as to why I characterize Warriors the way that I do, regarding his fear of being poisoned and his food anxiety, is a way to explain myself and my own anxieties caused by my allergies, because when I say to someone I don’t think I can eat the food at the party/function/their house EVEN IF it was specifically made to be free of my allergens, they just don’t understand why I can’t eat it. They just don’t understand that just because it’s ‘safe’ doesn’t mean I feel safe enough to eat it, because there’s always that lingering ‘What if’ in my mind that food made outside of my vision is contaminated somehow.
It is so HARD to explain to people the genuine fear that you are going to die because a food created an odd texture in your mouth and you gave yourself a panic attack over nothing. It breaks my heart every time I go to my friends house and her mom offers to make me food because I’ve been at her house for thirteen hours and haven’t eaten a meal with them, because even though she cleans everything and offers to let me watch her make it, there’s still this loud screaming voice in my mind saying that that food is not safe to eat. And it just NEVER goes away. I feel awful because her mom is so sweet and willing to help me, and I just can’t ever accept because I manage to convince myself it’s contaminated every time
I have been dealing with this for my entire life and never not once have I been able to get someone to understand what this feels like or seen it shown in a media form anywhere. I’ve had family and therapists both just tell me to get over myself, because I’m being ‘ridiculous’ and the craziest thing to me EVER is that for the first time in nineteen years, I have had an outlet to throw this frustration into. Warriors and the food issues I have given him are so important to me because for the first time in my life I can explain this fear through a character and even if people may not relate or really, truly get what it’s like, they understand. They understand and they recognize it as a valid fear, and it’s because of a fanfiction about a traumatized war hero. (which is INSANE to me that this is what it took for people to understand, but you know what, I’ll take it)
This rant was inspired because I opened a sealed container of ice cream and the allergen labels were incorrect and now I can’t eat it and I’ve wasted money and I’m so upset and it’s been a really long week, but also because I never saw anyone talking about this when I was a kid, and if I’d had someone there to represent me like this, or just be there for me to connect with, I would’ve felt a lot better. Understanding allergies and food restrictions is so important for so many reasons, the most important being that if you know how to help someone, you can save their LIFE. And for other people who feel the same way I do, it’s so GOOD to know you’re not alone and that there’s someone out there who gets what you’re dealing with
If I can make people understand what it’s like to live life this way, then that is so important to me. If I can explain to people what to do in an emergency situation because their friend is having a allergic reaction, I will, because not enough people understand how allergies work, and I’m sick and tired of hearing stories about kids with allergies who were peer pressured into eating when they didn’t feel comfortable and then suffering the consequences, and I am TIRED of seeing companies mislabel their fucking food.
Also do NOT be afraid to ask any friends or classmates or coworkers with allergies how to use an epi pen because You Could Save Their Life. If anyone is curious, I’LL tell you, or look up a youtube video I’m sure there are some on there
Anyways, this is why I give Warriors the food issues I do in my fics, for anyone else out there with allergies who’s ever felt invalidated by people telling them their anxieties were stupid, and so people who have no idea what it’s like to fear your food will kill you can try to understand that this is the irritating reality for some of your peers. (not that everyone with allergies has this exact experience, I have a friend with allergies who just eats whatever and prays it wont kill them, but I know now that there are plenty of people out there with allergies who DO have this experience)
Sorry for kinda ranting, (I’m just a little guy 🥺), but this is something that is so hugely important to me, and sorry Warriors but you had too similar of a problem so now you get my exact issues 🫶
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chrollohearttags · 17 hours
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thank you all for your well wishes and love, I really appreciate it. I didn’t exactly plan to go on hiatus or leave. Honestly, I was just fine, nothing major even happening in life (at least I thought so) but I ended up having an unexpected mental break of sorts. School and work has always been manageable but work has began its busiest season and this last class was a little trying so I’m guessing it became too much. I started isolating from everyone and hadn’t been very social lately. Not to mention, I’m preparing to have surgery in a few months. Truthfully though, I think I just became exhausted with this app and its nonsense..or the clock app I should say. Like I said, I’ve been working on being less combative and confrontational on here bc it’s not who I am and as I stated in my post a couple months ago, if I have to be in defense mode, I don’t want to be here. Although I’ve gotten no anon hate recently, I can see posts. I can see anons being sent by proxy of my friends and I can see screenshots of my name being mentioned in comments on apps I don’t even use. I’ve always been very passionate about my writing and I try my best to pour as much of myself into it as I can. I know people say ‘passion project’ or ‘magnum opus’ but that’s what I strive for with each of my works. I never wanna give bare minimum, hence why I deny certain anons or don’t write certain tropes if they don’t align with that purpose.
Again, I’m perfect by no means and my fics are not for everyone. However, having these straw man fics about baby mamas and drug dealers attached to me is infuriating (not bc I have an issue with them, but bc it shows some of you don’t truly read my work) With that being said, I’ve got the next two weeks off from school and I’ve been working on some stuff I’m really excited to share. My only request is that y’all start spreading more love to ur writers..show ppl that you love their works. The energy that you use to critique and throw hate, use it to be reblog and show appreciation. I’ve seen so many great writers leave this app and I hate to join them, but I’m just not going to burn myself out for mediocre feedback and diet lite racist commentary. I have Google Docs and my drafts, I’m good. Be blessed everyone <3
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petrichorium · 8 months
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so I think I got to that absolutely devastating thing in witch hat last night—that hurt :,)👍 literally was not expecting qifrey to wipe oru’s memory after everything the story seemed to be building up for between this hurdle for them
like….that was such an important moment for them. Oru had been so willing to help him despite qifrey become so insanely fixated on stopping the brimmed hats and….qifrey made the decision that he’d rather oru remember him as the qifrey he’s familiar with than whatever he’s become now. put me down like an old dog—that HURT
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AGOKNEEEEEEEEEEEE
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merevide · 6 months
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girl who tries to ignore everything in her life as much as she can and practices self care by self-isolating and staying up late by consuming media until their eyes involuntarily shut: omg whyyyy am i sick what’d i do to deserve thissss
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corv-idae · 2 years
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Working on urself as a person is so hard and difficult but I am going to do it anyway
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afieldinengland · 2 years
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.
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sofarsofastmp3 · 7 months
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it’s been said before but it’s truly so fucked up how right people are about spending a little time in the sun
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cetoddle · 10 months
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i have to babysit again in um. almost four hours. until 3pm. this will be interesting to say the least
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littledovesnow · 4 months
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a growing family
request(s): Reader and Coriolanus have a little fight, and Reader blurts out she's pregnant. AND corio when you tell him you’re pregnant? maybe even him going to the doctor with you?? I love ur fics <3
word count: 2.1k
content warnings: pregnancy, little angst (like a smidgen of it, you gotta squint to see it), little bit of mean coriolanus
You stared at the calendar that was pinned to the corkboard, heart hammering in your chest so bad you could hear it.
“No, no, no.” You mumbled, running a hand through your hair, getting stuck in a few tangles.
Not wanting to face your husband when he got home, you grabbed your purse and headed down the grand staircase and out of the apartment, walking over the Corso’s small grass area and up to the Snow’s apartment.
Knocking on the door, you looked at your chipped nail polish until the door flung open, Tigris appearing on the other side.
She had a wide smile on her face, but it fell as soon as she saw your expression. “What’s wrong?” She asked, pulling you into the apartment.
You looked down the hall to see if the Grandma’am was home. “You have to promise not to tell your cousin.”
Tigris’ eyes grew, and she looked you up and down. “What? Why? What are you-”
“I’m late.”
It took a moment before Tigris’ head snapped up, eyes meeting your own. “You- have you gone to a doctor yet?”
Shaking your head, you let out a tearful laugh. “Are you kidding? As soon as anyone sees me walking into an obstetrician’s office, they’ll run to the Capitol News fast as lightning. I want to tell Coriolanus myself; I don’t want him to find out from the paper.”
Tigris frowned. “How late are you?”
“A couple weeks. I lost track of time, and I was stressed so I assumed it was just late. But then I was taking a shower and the smell of my body wash made me want to throw up. And- oh my God, my boobs hurt so bad.”
Tigris laughed, sending you an apologetic look. “You’ll need to tell Coryo soon. I think he wants to go out to some of the Districts and do some press soon.”
It was true, Coriolanus had brought the idea up the other night at dinner, wanting to start gathering a following for the upcoming election now that President Ravenstill had announced he would be stepping down due to his poor health.
Nodding, you toyed with the loose hem of your jacket, tears coming to your eyes again. “I know, I’m going to. I just don’t want him to get mad. We’ve always talked about starting a family once he’s more established in the field.”
Tigris said your name softly, grabbing your hands. “I know Coryo, and I know he won’t get upset. Maybe if you keep this a secret any longer he’ll get a little disgruntled, but he won’t be mad.”
You appreciated the older Snow more than you thought you would, giving her a tight squeeze. “Thank you, Tigris.”
-----
Coriolanus closed the door to the apartment, letting out a sigh as he tried to keep his work and home life separate.
He called your name, walking into the kitchen with the bottle of wine he wanted to surprise you with.
Entering the kitchen, he frowned when he didn’t see you where you were usually humming to something on the radio, looking in the fridge or preparing dinner. As much as he offered to hire an Avox to cook and prepare meals, you declined it; stating you liked being able to make whatever you were hungry for.
“Love?” He called, setting the wine down and moving down the hall to the bedroom, worry growing in the pit of his stomach when you weren’t on the chaise with a book in your hand, as you sometimes were when he worked a little later than usual.
He heard a shuffle in the bathroom, behind the closed door.
“Sweetheart, are you alright?” He asked, opening the door slowly, stepping in when he saw you sitting against the tub, hair pulled back crudely.
“Hi, Coryo.” You threw him a smile, though it looked more like a grimace given your current situation.
Kneeling down, Coriolanus moved some of the hair that was still growing out from the bangs, frown on his face. “What’s wrong, why didn’t you send for me? Dr. Gaul would’ve let me leave. She’s got a soft spot for you, you know.”
You leaned into Coriolanus’ hand, small groan coming out of your mouth. “Didn’t want to bother you. It’ll pass in a few minutes.”
“And how are you so certain about that?” Coriolanus mused, rubbing your back as you leaned over the porcelain bowl once more.
Once you were sure you were done, you slowly rose, Coriolanus with a careful grasp on your hip to keep you upright.
“Because,” you took a swig of the water glass you had poured earlier, spitting into the sink basin. “I felt like this yesterday, too.”
Coriolanus’ hand moved to your forehead, feeling for a fever. “You don’t feel feverish. Perhaps it’s that new jam you’ve put on your toast this morning. Did you have it yesterday, too?”
Looking at him in the mirror’s reflection, you simply nodded, even though you did not. “Yeah, probably just a bad batch.”
Coriolanus helped you to the bed, hand moving along your jaw in admiration. “Why don’t you rest, I’m sure I can scrounge up some soup.”
You nodded, watching your husband’s retreating figure as he disappeared down the hall.
Once you were sure he was out of earshot, you leaned your head against the wall, one hand going to rub on your not-yet-visible bump. “You’ve gotta give me time to tell him.”
-----
It had been two days since Coriolanus found you on the bathroom floor, and he continued to believe that you simply had a small bout of food poisoning, none the wiser to the true reason you were ill only a few times.
Currently, you were sitting next to him, across from the Plinths, who insisted on weekly dinners at their apartment, only a few floors below you and Coriolanus.
An Avox went around pouring wine, pausing when you held a hand over your glass. “None for me, thank you.”
Ma Plinth looked between you and the bottle of wine. “It’s your favorite?”
Smiling, you were going to explain when Coriolanus spoke up for you, comforting hand on your thigh.
“She’s been a little ill the last few days, some food poisoning.”
Not believing it for a second, the older woman simply nodded, letting the Avox pour her another round.
“Coriolanus,” Strabo Plinth spoke up, leaning forward to talk business. “Have you given any thought about visiting the Districts? It would do you well to stop in before you officially start campaigning.”
Though only Capitol residents were eligible to vote in the upcoming election, many candidates made sure to stop into a majority of the Districts to show they aren’t afraid of the rebels, that they can control them if need be.
Coriolanus nodded, setting down his utensils. “I am, yes. Dr. Gaul and I had been talking about a good time for me to take a short leave. It looks like I’ll be able to go in few months, plenty of time before the campaigning will start.”
You mulled over the sentence for a moment, telling yourself now was as good a time as any. “If you go then, I won’t be able to go with you.”
Three sets of eyes focused on you, varying degrees of confusion swimming in all of them. “Why? It will be autumn, perfect season for photography of Panem’s future leading couple.”
Coriolanus quickly thought over any important dates in your family, none that arose during the time you two would be on the train. “It’ll only be a few weeks; we’ll be back in time for your sister’s birthday.”
You smiled at the blonde, looking at Strabo Plinth as he spoke up.
“A man can’t properly campaign without his wife there, how will the Capitol view you as a First Lady if you’re not by his side?”
“Yes, and perhaps seeing a united front will help lessen the threat of another rebellion.” Coriolanus nodded, clinking his glass of whiskey with his late classmate’s father.
Mrs. Plinth, eyes narrowing, seemed to figure out what the men did not. “Honey, why don’t we save this conversation for a better-suited time? I’m sure I can talk to Ravenstill and get him to set up a meeting time between the three of you.”
Strabo Plinth and Coriolanus both seemed content with that, shifting subjects to something you weren’t interested in.
You sent a grateful look to the woman across from you, who simply nodded in return.
-----
“I don’t understand why you don’t want to go visit the Districts with me.” Coriolanus snapped, fingers hastily undoing the tie he despised wearing.
“Coryo, I do want to go with you. It’s just that time won’t be good.” You carefully removed the numerous hairpins from their position at the nape of your neck.
The blonde man grumbled, pulling his shirt from where it was tucked into his trousers. “If we go any sooner or later it’ll be a bad time for my campaigning! Too soon, the news will have moved on to something else, like- like Flickerman’s new parrot!”
You rolled your eyes, struggling to unzip the dress you wore. “Can you-”
“Go any later and it’ll impede the speeches and galas and events I need to be in the Capitol for!” Coriolanus’ voice raised, and you paused to look at him, hand still trying to grab the zipper.
“Coryo.”
Coriolanus threw a hand up, face growing red from anger. “Do you even want me to become President?! To be able to give you all you want, to never have to worry about money, food, anything?”
You were at your wit’s end, hand finally falling from your back. “I do, Coriolanus! I do want you to be the president. But if you travel to the Districts at that time I can’t go with you because I’ll be too pregnant to go with you!”
There was a silence so loud you didn’t dare breathe. “What?” Coriolanus whispered, eyes meeting yours. “Pregnant?”
Nodding, you were once again trying to unzip the dress, huffing as you gave up for good. “Yes, and I had a special dinner planned but you just had to go and ruin it.”
Coriolanus silently moved behind you, carefully unzipping the dress and letting you use his hands for balance as you stepped out of the skirt. “You didn’t have food poisoning, did you?”
Shaking your head, you felt your eyes water. “No.”
You must have looked like a fool, standing there in your undergarments, husband behind you with his dress trousers and socks still on.
“I’m sorry for yelling. I- I’m sure we can still visit the Districts before the election, just a more abbreviated tour than planned.”
You laughed, a watery, light laugh. It was music to Coriolanus’ ears. “Whatever you want, Mr. President.”
-----
Your knee was bouncing rapidly, the only telltale sign of your anxiety.
Coriolanus had gone forth and scheduled an appointment with the Capitol’s best obstetrician, going to far as to personally thank them for agreeing to see you at such an early time. He also laid out the threat that if anything were to happen to you during the pregnancy that could have been stopped, the obstetrician would never see their family again, but that wasn’t for you to worry about.
“Love, you don’t need to be nervous. I’ll be with you.” Coriolanus mumbled, hand moving from behind your chair to your thigh, thumb rubbing soothing circles on the side.
“I know, I just- this is our first child, Coryo.” You looked up at him. “I can’t help but be nervous.”
Coriolanus smiled, pressing his lips to your temple. “You’re going to be a wonderful mother.”
The nurse came out and escorted you two back to the exam room, instructing you to pull your shirt up as she squirted gel onto your stomach.
You and Coriolanus watched her every move, anxiety sky-rocketing as she frowned at the screen.
“What? What’s wrong?” Coriolanus asked, hand gripping your own.
“I just- let me get the doctor to confirm, give me one moment.” She didn’t look back as she left the room, leaving you and Coirolanus to soak in an anxiety-filled silence.
Only a few moments passed before the nurse returned, doctor in tow, and she also moved the wand around. “Ah, yes. You are correct.”
“What?” You asked, eyes flitting between the medical professionals and the back of the computer.
“Congratulations, Mrs. Snow. You’re having twins.”
-----
a/n: send requests here
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strawberrysturniolo · 3 months
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chris and the reader hate eachother but end up having to share a hotel bed
just tonight // chris sturniolo
summary: a trip with your friends turns into a hotel reservation mishap and having to share a bed with someone you hate part 2
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It’s no secret that Nick Sturniolo is my best friend.
It’s no secret that Matt Sturniolo is like a brother to me.
And it is no fucking surprise to anyone how knows me and the youngest Sturniolo that Chris Sturniolo is the one person above all that makes me want to rip my hair out strand by strand. 
I don’t even know how it all happened. It’s like it was meant to be. I don’t remember a time in my life where me and Chris Sturniolo weren’t bickering, throwing shit at each other, or calling each other foul insults. 
To others, it is another form of entertainment to see our arguments in person, but to Nick and Matt, it’s the bane of their existence. 
Their brother is mine. 
Which is why I am more than shocked to hear that the four of us are heading on a trip to San Diego with no one else to help break up fights. 
With Matt driving us, Chris sits in the passenger seat, blasting music that no one has a say on. Matt bops his head to a few songs, but as soon as he becomes comfortable with one, Chris changes it mid song.
“Hang on, I have a better one,” he says every single time. 
Nick sits next to me, half asleep with chunky headphones over his ears, blocking out the sound of his brother’s music taste. I wish I could say I’m doing the same, but my airpods died 20 minutes into the drive, so I’m stuck in the backseat staring out the window, contemplating throwing myself onto the highway at 80 miles per hour.
We make a few stops along the way despite it being only around a two hour drive. 
The first was for some food. 
The second was because Chris ran out of his drink and insisted that he needed to stop for more.
The third was because Chris decided to dump his drink on me, so I had to change into something I had packed.
The fourth was because Chris then faced his consequences and had nothing to drink, making Matt stop again. He promised he wouldn’t spill it this time.
Then a fifth time because Chris had to pee. 
When we finally arrived at the hotel, we dragged our few bags inside and made our way to the front desk.
“Hi,” Nick said to the woman. His eyes were droopy as he had just woken up, so he rubbed them a bit before continuing. “It’s under Sturniolo. Four rooms on the same floor.”
The young woman’s eyebrows cinched together, almost like she was worried she had made a mistake. 
“The reservation is for three rooms,” she says instead, making Chris step forward like he is going to correct her. “And they are on different floors.”
“Woah, woah,” Chris interrupts, shaking his head. “I know you’re just doing your job, but we definitely put in four rooms. I don’t think anyone minds that we are on different floors, but we’re going to need a fourth room if that’s what we paid for.”
The woman’s eyes scatter across her screen before she frowns slightly. “I’m really sorry, but we don’t have any other rooms available.”
Chris spins around, tossing his hands up slightly. “What are we going to do?”
“Why can’t one of you share a room?” I suggest the obvious.
Nick jumps in first. “If you guys want me to edit all your shit, then I need my own room. I won’t be able to focus and get it done if there’s someone else.”
“Okay,” I nod, knowing he has work to do. “Then Chris can stay with Matt.”
Chris’ face scrunches in disgust. “No way. He snores.” 
I roll my eyes at his childish answer. “We don’t have any other options right now.”
“One of us is going to half to share with her,” Matt concludes. Chris makes a face as if to say ‘Not me!’
I scoff at how they’re talking about me while I’m standing right here. “Hello! Why can’t I get my own room since I’m the only girl!”
I’m ignored.
“Let’s play rock paper scissors for the room,” Matt suggests, making Chris roll up his sweatshirt sleeves as if he’s preparing. 
Matt wins. 
Chris’ eyes shoot open. “Best two out of three.” 
“Nope,” Matt says as he grabs his room key off the desk and heads to the elevator. 
“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” I mumble, walking behind Chris and following him to our shared room. 
I would have been quiet so Nick could work, but he was so adamant about being alone that I never even got the chance to suggest that alternative. This stupid room situation is just the fucking icing on the cake after the car ride with Chris. It’s no surprise that my luck would put me in the same room as him somehow. 
I brace myself for when Chris opens the door, expecting only one thing because it’s the obvious, but I still pray for a miracle. 
No miracle.
There’s one bed. 
I toss my bags on the bed before he can. “Dibs,” I call out immediately.
Chris kicks his shoes off. “That’s not fair. How are you gonna dibs a bed? Where am I supposed to sleep?”
I point to the balcony. “Out there. Just pray a rabid squirrel doesn’t bite you while you sleep.” 
He fake smiles at me. “Very funny. You’re lucky I’m too fucking tired after the ride to argue with you.” He flashes his phone screen at me, revealing the time. 2:12 a.m. We left at night to try to beat any traffic and so we could have an extra full day in San Diego. “Let’s just go to bed and hope we’re too tired to realize what a shitty situation this is.” 
I dig out some clothes from inside a duffel bag I brought, trying to find something to wear as pajamas. Since I was under the assumption I would be in my own room, I didn’t pack any pajama shorts or even athletic shorts that would do the job. I usually just sleep with a big shirt and underwear, and this was certainly not what I was anticipating. 
I let out a sigh and turn around to face Chris. I hate asking for his help. 
“Do you have any shorts or sweatpants I can wear to bed?”
He looks at me like he’s confused by my question. His tiny brain cells can usually only handle sentences with five words or less.
“Why didn’t you pack any?” he asks me instead. 
“Because I normally sleep half naked, which I’m not doing with you here. So can I please wear shorts or something of yours to bed?” 
He grins. “Say please again and maybe I’ll think about it.” 
“I’ll scrub the toilet with your toothbrush while you sleep,” I threaten. 
He reaches down and tosses me a pair of his boxers. “I would give you basketball shorts but they wouldn’t fit you. Plus I only have my celtics ones and they’re too nice for you to fuck up.” 
I take his boxers and stand with my clothes in my hands, looking at him. 
He looks at me like he has a problem with me. “Do you need anything else?” he says in a snippy tone. 
“Go to the bathroom,” I instruct him. 
“Why?”
“So I can change?” I say as a question, shocked and confused at how stupid he can be sometimes. 
He rolls his eyes and crouches to his bag. “I’m not fucking looking. Just change.”
In an attempt to withhold us from fighting in the first ten minutes of us being here, I sigh and turn around, facing the curtains covering the window. I peel my shirt off and toss it on a chair, putting on an old t-shirt instead. I turn around quickly, making sure Chris isn’t watching. He’s sitting on his phone. I yank my pants off and tug on his boxers before he has a chance to peek.
“You done?” he asks.
“Yeah. I’ll go to the bathroom so you can change.” 
I grab my toiletries bag so I can brush my teeth and wash my face while I’m in there, but as I make my way to the door, Chris steps in front of me. Looking at me, he pulls his shirt off from over his head. “That’s all I have to do. Now I’m dressed for bed.”
Do not look at his body. Do NOT look at his body.
“I still have to go to the bathroom,” I say anyway. 
He gestures his hands to my destination and follows me in, brushing his teeth alongside me and watching me as I do my skincare. Before I have a chance to snap at him and tell him to go away, he does just that. I almost ask him why he did leave, throwing myself off. I shouldn’t care. I don’t care.
He’s laying on our bed. I have to remind myself that this is just a shitty situation before sliding in next to him, still keeping a distance. We sit in silence for some time, both of us still scrolling aimlessly on our phones, trying to distract ourselves so we don’t have to talk. Finally, I have enough of the silence, and I am suddenly on the hunt for answers.
I turn over in bed, now facing him. He side eyes me as he notices my change in position. “Do you need something else?” he asks.
“Why are you so mean to me?”
He lowers his phone from his gaze momentarily as he thinks. He settles on, “You’re mean to me too.”
“It’s different,” I argue.
“This is just how I am,” he continues. “I act this way with my brothers. Maybe you’re just not used to it yet.” 
“It’s still different, Chris.”
He shrugs, not saying anything else, so I do.
“I feel like we could get along well but you don’t give me the chance. You never noticed we have the same taste in music and a lot of other similar interests? It’s like you don’t want to admit we could have something in common and I don’t know why.”
“I’m not petty like that,” he says instead. “I’m not going to blow you off because I don’t want us to have the same interests.”
“Then what is it,” I continue to push him. 
“Can you just shut up and go to bed?” he snaps.
I seriously couldn’t have had a worse roommate. 
I turn over, finding myself back in silence. 
“Are you going to need my boxers every night while we’re here?” he asks. 
“I mean, this is all I’ve got, so yeah,” I answer without turning around. 
It’s silent for a good 30 seconds before Chris breaks it. 
“Why don’t you just keep them?”
My eyebrows furrow, my expression bold even though he can’t see my face. “Why?”
“They look good,” he mumbles.
“Huh?” 
“You heard me.”
“I literally didn’t doofus that’s why I said huh?”
“I said they look good on you!” 
My stomach flips.
Motherfucker. 
“You want me to keep them?” I ask for clarification.
“I’m just trying to be nice,” he defends. “Don’t try to make it something it’s not. But even if I was trying to turn it into something else, you know you look good.”
Oh my god.
No, he needs to stop. 
I turn around so I can face him again. “You think I look good?”
He rolls his eyes so hard this time that his head shifts. “Oh shut up.”
The more I stare at him to try to dissect his answer, the more I see his face turning a darker shade of red. 
“Oh my god! You’re blushing!” I tease.
He sits up straight. “Am not!” 
“You are too!” I laugh, pointing at him.
He smacks my hand away. “Stop it!”
Everything suddenly clicks. Every time he was mean to me. Every time he called me names. 
But there were also the times he would stand in a corner with eyes shooting daggers when I would talk about a guy.
Everything makes sense. 
“You like me,” I piece together.
“Do not,” he lies. “You wish.”
“I don’t have to wish because you do!”
“You’re being childish,” he says, bold coming from him. 
“Just admit it so I can go to bed.”
Without an answer he shoves his hand into my shoulder, pushing me away from him. I do the same back, but when I expect him to do it again, he grabs my wrist and yanks me towards him instead.
We both halt before our faces touch.
I watch him gulp.
“Tell me not to do it,” he practically begs.
I know exactly what he’s talking about. I know we shouldn’t but I sort of just want to know what would happen. Would anything come out of it? Would we both decide it was stupid and we won’t talk about it ever again and swear it won’t leave this hotel room.
“I could do it instead,” I suggest.
He clearly doesn’t expect this from me. His eyes were somewhere else until I finished my sentence. That’s when they flew to meet mine. 
He gives me one last look before grabbing my cheeks and pulling me into him. I fall forward, wrapping my arms around him for support before my lips settle into his. We mesh together perfectly, a long peck before our lips part and he’s trying to snake his tongue into my mouth. I let him, and I don’t even notice when one of my hands rakes through his hair. 
One of his hands drifts down my body, clinging to my waist. His thumb plays with the band of his own underwear hugging my body. 
I don’t know how long we have been doing this. All I’m focusing on is the few sounds that come out of our mouths, little moans and deep breaths, others being the sound of our lips fighting for dominance. Then there’s the sound of slight creaks in the bed as we shift around.
I’m caught by surprise when he pulls me into his lap, but thank god he does. I don’t move around on him. I don’t grind my hips into his. I don’t try to feel how big he is underneath his clothing.
I sit there with my arms around him, a lustful makeout turning into soft kisses again as he holds my cheeks, his thumbs stroking my face. 
I pull away for a moment to catch my breath, and I watch his face fall.
“I’m sorry,” he says immediately. “I shouldn’t have done that. Oh my god that was so fucking stupid.” He runs his hands through his hair in frustration, but all I’m focused on is how his biceps flexed in the process.
I pull his arms back down, a measly excuse to have my hands on the toned muscle, but also to comfort him. “Hey, it’s fine. Why don’t we just go to bed, and we can talk about this tomorrow?” 
He takes a moment to think before he nods, placing a kiss on my cheek before letting me lay down next to him. Our backs face each other. We both stare at the wall in our direction, our heads clouded with thoughts. 
After some time, when I was positive he was asleep, I feel the bed shift as he flips over, his body now facing the same way as mine. 
His pinky hooks with mine in the softest grip. 
I let his hand linger, taking it slow before I drive this car off a cliff.
I face him, looking down at his chest before I place my head on it and kick my leg to lay over his. Our bodies cling to each other immediately. He holds me like he’s scared of letting go.
I can’t get over how good this feels. Just laying here with him.
But I also know tomorrow could be a shit show after these events, so I have just tonight to bask in this before it all goes to shit. 
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reidmotif · 4 months
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Always Bet on Black
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Summary: Reader realizes she has an advantage at the Bureau's Casino Night, when Spencer can't seem to take his eyes off her and her dress.
Prompt: The BAU throws a casino night charity fundraiser. Spencer is a menace. Someone has to find a way to distract him.
Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader
Category: Smut
Content Warning: drinking, gambling (i have never gambled in my life nor have i played poker or blackjack. this will be super apparent in this fic. many apologies), nipple play, oral sex (f!receiving) hickies, Reader POV, unprotected penetrative sex
Word Count: 3.7k
Masterlist
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“And that’s another win to the gentleman on my right!”  The dealer announces for what feels like the millionth time that night. There's a shit-eating grin on Spencer Reid’s face as he leans over the blackjack table, wrapping his arms around the hearty stack of chips in an almost in an exaggerated manner, pulling it back towards him much to everyone’s dismay. 
My dismay, especially, because while- yes, this is for charity, and what Spencer’s doing could be characterized as noble in some roundabout way, it was getting a bit repetitive. Spencer was so focused, a thousand times more than anyone else at that table, his brain working a million miles a minute to provide him with the best course of action when it came to gambling.  
And so far? It worked perfectly. While everyone else was taking their chances and betting away, praying that the odds would line up in their favor, Spencer Reid did fucking math, and suddenly the odds were his bitch.  I was beginning to understand why every casino in Las Vegas had him banned now. If he was giving the BAU Casino Night a run for their money like this, I can’t imagine the Bellagio being too pleased with having him either. 
I sighed at the thought, and it seemed Spencer picked up on it, the corners of his lips turning upwards, trying to feign a chagrin expression as he stacked his chips on top of the other. 
“Something wrong, (Y/N)?” He says, looking at me. “Are you not enjoying yourself?” 
Spencer Reid is usually nice, humble, and sweet. In all honesty, I should not be feeling this hostile and sore at the fact that he’d managed to beat me almost every single time we’d played blackjack. My embarrassment was only heightened when I thought of how I’d (stupidly) bragged beforehand that I’d never lost a game in college. 
How quickly my streak was destroyed. 
My pride was bruised, and the man in front of me knew it. 
“I’m enjoying myself just fine.” I say, trying not to grit my teeth as I say the words. 
“You look a bit hot.” He says, referring to my face that had gotten slightly red after the most recent loss I’d taken. “Would you like me to get you a drink?” He asks, his gaze turning less cocky, and more sweet and polite. 
I melt a bit. “Okay. No need to be a sore loser.” I think to myself. “This is a sweet man, and he’s offering you a drink. Yes, he’s destroying you right now and knows it, but it’s not like he’s acting like a complete dick about it.”
I nod at his words, sending a small smile his way. 
“A drink would be great actually.” I finally respond, and he gets up, pushing his chair in. 
“I’ll be right back.” He says, turning away from me, and sauntering towards the bar.
 I take a second to admire him as he walks away, the suit and tie ensemble he picked out for the night complimenting him so well. I’d never say it out loud, considering we were coworkers, but something about seeing him so dapper, so much more.. mature brought out a warm feeling in my stomach, one that made me shift in my seat as I tried to rid myself of thoughts of grabbing him by his tie, placing a hand on his perfectly sculpted jawline, pulling him against me and- no! 
He. Is. Your. Colleague. Snap out of it! 
In lieu of my wandering thoughts, I’d realized I had actually heated up quite a few degrees and in an attempt to combat the sudden body heat, I shrugged off the shawl I’d been donning for most of the night. I felt the cool air hit my exposed shoulders and chest, and relaxed a bit, starting to feel my temperature lower. Right as I did so,  Spencer returned to his seat, holding two drinks. 
I turn towards him, still seated. He’s sitting in his seat, facing towards me as well, and I instinctively reach over to grab the drink in his hand, expecting him to meet me halfway and transfer the cup to me.  But instead of the expected interaction, he seems a bit dazed, an intense expression on his face as he bored his eyes into me, studying me almost. It’s an expression that causes me to raise my eyebrows at him. 
“Spencer?” I say. “Hello?” I wave my hand a bit, trying to break him from his trance. “The drinks?” I add, and that’s what seems to break him out of his preoccupied stupor. He blinks a bit before shaking his head.
“Sorry. Sorry. I spaced out there for a moment.” He says, hastily handing me my glass and turning away completely from me, taking a sip out of his. I can notice a small tremor in his hand as he sets down the liquid on the table, and I’m a bit concerned. He was just fine a moment ago. Did someone say something whilst he was at the bar? Did he choose to ponder some life-changing information as he took his seat at the table? Was he losing it for no reason at all? 
Regardless of what it was, I didn’t have the time to contemplate it further or question him about it because the dealer was beginning to shuffle the deck of cards again. 
As the next game started, there was something fundamentally different about Spencer. He looked  almost panicked, even going as far as to loosen his tie as he played. I thought I’d maybe imagined the changes, until finally, I got a real indicator that something was off. For the first time that whole night- he lost. 
My mouth was agape as the dealer announced the house win, and as I looked between him and the table, he didn’t seem all that fazed, simply shrugging as he attempted to get up. Before he could slip away, I grabbed his arm and brought him a bit closer to me, so that I could speak to him over the sounds of the bustling party around us.
“Spencer- wait. Is something wrong?” I ask, the genuine concern in my tone apparent to anyone who might’ve walked by. 
“Yeah, no. Um. Why wouldn’t it be?” He says, his eyes everywhere except me. It was almost comical. The ceiling tiles couldn’t be that interesting. 
I grip his arm a little harder, urging him to look at me, to talk to me. “You lost! That hasn’t happened all night! Was someone- did something happen? Are you feeling okay?” I ask, my eyes trying to meet his. 
He gulps, finally looking at me. “Statistically, card counting can’t actually work every time so I was bound to lose at some point right?” He says, a little shakily, and despite his words making logical sense, the notion that something was wrong didn’t leave me. 
“You promise?” I say, looking at him as intensely as I possibly could to ensure he wouldn’t try to evade giving me an honest answer. 
He gives his signature, flat smile, nodding. “I’ll be fine. Look. I’m gonna go play some other games. Maybe rack up my luck somewhere else.” 
I lick my lips and finally let go of his arm, nodding. “Have fun.” I say, and he gives me a little wave. 
“You too.” 
For the next hour or so, I found myself dabbling at the other assortment of games offered by the Bureau that night, until yet again, my path crossed with Spencer, who seemed to be on a pretty hefty winning streak- if the stack of chips he’d accumulated wasn’t a clear sign of that already. 
I stood by the table, slightly out of his view,  a little amazed by the way his eyes followed the deck and everyone’s movements so precisely. The level of focus required to do what he was was absolutely no joke, and I couldn’t help but admire in silent awe at the exactness of the whole process. It only made him that much more attractive in that moment, if that was even possible. 
“Royal flush.” He announces, fanning his cards as everyone at the table groans. It’s only then when his gaze meets mine, watching him, and I can observe the signs of a tell-tale blush creeping up his neck. Odd.
“(Y/N)! Hello.” He says, quickly. “Still liking the party?” 
“I am, thank you.” I say, my eyebrows slightly furrowing at how oddly he’s behaving. “Mind if I join the next round?” I ask, already starting to take my seat. 
“Yeah, yeah. Of course.” He says, clearing his throat and turning his entire body away from me. Spencer and I usually got along just fine. There was nothing ever particularly sour about our relationship, and I’d like to think that in the time I’d spent at the Bureau, our shared experiences had brought us closer. However, the way he was acting as of right now, like we were strangers or mere acquaintances threw me off beyond belief. 
It was official, something was off.
I leaned over a little closer, trying to get him to look at me.
“Spencer, I know I’ve already asked but is anything-“ I start, and I can see him glance over, and then almost rapidly turn his gaze away.
“No! Nothing’s wrong. Let’s play.” He rushes out, his words teetering on almost being high pitched. 
It didn’t evade me however, in that short microsecond he took to look at me, his gaze dropped partially down. I internally followed his line of sight to realize that my breasts were practically spilling from my dress. I knew that it was a bit showy, but didn’t think much of it when I’d chosen to wear it for this occasion. The event was black-tie, and so I’d fished out a number I’d haphazardly bought during an online shopping spree. It was black and sparkly, but the main caveat of the dress was the gorgeous bodice in the front, managing to give a good show of cleavage whilst pushing up my breasts and making them all that more appealing to anyone who noticed.  I began to connect the events of the night, realizing that someone clearly had noticed.
Spencer’s losing streak had coincidentally begun once I’d lost the shawl that was once covering my chest. 
An idea slowly entered my head. An experiment, if you will. As we started another game, I barely paid attention as my fingers slid over to what looked like a glass of water on Spencer’s side. 
“Spence?” I murmur, tapping his shoulder.
“Mm?” He asks, not even taking a moment to look away from his cards. 
“Mind if I take a sip from your water?” I ask, keeping my voice saccharine and innocent.
I can see the look he shoots me, his eyes slightly narrowed in surprise but he quickly looks away. “Yeah, um. Sure. Go ahead.” He responds dismissively, as if talking to me for even a second longer would result in him breaking out in hives. 
 Totally out of character. For all the closeness in the world, Spencer Reid would never have shared a glass of water. 
As I began to sip the water, I did something that could be categorized as deeply stupid, but in the name of my experiment, it was absolutely necessary. I slightly tipped the glass, allowing the cool water to run down my neck and drip onto the swell of my breasts. I made a show of getting up, touching my chest to try and rid myself of the moisture that was now coating my breasts. 
“I’m so sorry, Spencer. I’ll get you another glass of water.” I say,letting my breasts bounce a bit as I stand up,  and when he looks at me, it’s more apparent than ever that his eyes aren’t gracing mine anytime soon. Not when I was like this. 
I grinned in secret as I turned around,  quickly bringing over a replacement glass to him, leaning over so that if he were to simply turn his head even slightly to his left, he’d get a direct look at what he simply couldn’t seem to take his eyes or mind off tonight. 
“Uh. Thanks.” He stammers again, shakily drinking the water as he miserably failed at not looking. Bingo. 
When the next round of our game commenced, he lost horrifically, as expected. His mind was in an entirely different dimension, and I couldn’t help but feel a bit of pride, knowing it was me who’d rendered him dumb. So unfocused. So unlike himself. It wasn’t until I felt a tap on my shoulder, noticing Spencer’s hand carrying out the action. 
“Walk with me.” He says, simply. His tone was so sharp and commanding, I found myself listening with no hesitation, following as we moved to a more secluded bit of the party. 
“What are you doing?” He asks in an accusatory tone, his voice a hushed whisper. 
“What do you mean?” I respond, a faux naivete in my words, which he only scoffed at. He leaned in closer, his brows furrowed. I could notice a small vein popping out from his forehead, and the sight only increased the ache I’d begun to feel in my panties since he’d directed me here. 
“You know what I mean.” He says, dangerously. “You’re flaunting yourself.” He adds, his jaw tight. “You know what it’s doing to me. You’re enjoying it.” I could tell he wanted to say so much more, the grit in his tone leading me to believe there were some much cruder words he wished to utter to me.
 Regardless, the authority in his tone only spurred me to try and resist. It was so hot watching him like this. Maybe a bit fucked up to say that, but it didn’t matter in that moment. I only wanted to test the limits. To see the new man I could bring out in Spencer Reid tonight. 
“So what if I am?” I say, biting my lip. “It’s a party, Spencer. We’re all having fun, aren’t we?” 
“No.” He responds, darkly. “I’m not having fun.” 
A proposal came to mind. One I knew that would pan out deliciously, since I’d now gotten a look into his extensive lust tonight, and just how desperate he seemed. I leaned forward to whisper to him, my lips teasing the outer shell of his ear. 
“Win another game, and I’ll show you just how much fun you could be having.”
He immediately pulls back. His eyes narrow, and I can see the weight of my words course through his mind, evaluating the odds of my statement before clicking his tongue. 
“See you in 30 minutes.” is his response, as he walks away, beckoning me to follow him to yet another Blackjack table. I grin, sitting beside him. 
My presence doesn’t seem to phase Spencer whatsoever this time around, his laser-point focus uninterrupted even as I stared shamelessly at him. It wasn't until the game seemed to be reaching its turning point, in which Spencer had to decide whether drawing or staying would bring forth a better outcome for him. I watched as he mulled over the decision for a few seconds before his eyes locked onto mine, gaze intense. 
“Draw.” He voices, not even paying mind as the dealer announced his win. 
Spencer gets up without a word, and I can see him head towards a hallway that houses a few restrooms in the building. 
“Sir- your winnings!” The dealer calls out, but I smile apologetically, starting to follow Spencer to a more secluded area of the party.
“Sorry. He’s probably a bit preoccupied. I’ll let him know!” I respond, already turning around and making my way to the same hallway Spencer had gone down, finding the bathroom and opening it. I knew Spencer would be there, but what I didn’t expect was to be pulled into his arms, greeted by Spencer’s lips insistently pressing against mine, his free hand clutching the back of my head, as his other hand went to click the lock into place. I responded with a momentary bout of shock, but quickly found myself melting into his touch, wrapping my arms around his neck. 
“You like watching me lose, is that it?” He whispers harshly, in between kisses. I can feel the anger, the lust and passion, all rolling into one as his lips meet mine, over and over again, creating the sweetest of sensations that wracked my whole body. 
“Mm. Not just you losing. You losing because you’re distracted. Because of me.” I say, my tone a bit dazed and breathy from the intensity he was putting me through. 
“Can you blame me?” He murmurs, his lips now trailing down my neck, paying close mind to a particular spot on the side that left my knees weak. “You wear this dress and expect me to not take my eyes off of you?” 
His hot breath grazes over my skin and I can feel myself shiver. I’m completely overwhelmed by him. The feel of his hands caressing the small of my back and waist, his smell of his cologne wafting around me. I can only breathe unsteadily, and hold onto him, a needy whimper slipping past my lips. 
“Shh. You’re okay. I got you.” He murmurs. His tone was sweet, soothing, but his actions were anything but, as his fingers slipped around to find the zipper on my dress. 
In an instant, his mouth was finally all over my breasts, his mouth leaving a few marks on the expanse of my chest before his tongue began to sweep over my nipples, swirling around the raised bud, leaving me grappling to his shoulders, as more moans poured out from within me. 
“You like that?” He breathes against my skin, and I nod, frantically. I’d never expected to go this weak, but he was so much more skilled with his mouth than I’d ever expected.
“Please. Keep going.” I moan, and I can feel his hands on my thighs, urging me into his arms. I comply, and can feel myself be lifted to the bathroom counter, his hands squeezing the fat of my hips before dropping to his knees. His fingers looped around my underwear, and I attempted to move in a way that would aid him in their removal. As soon as they were off, he stuffed them into his pocket, and moved to lift my dress up, his face disappearing into my now spread legs. 
And suddenly he was everywhere, tongue swiping over my clit in rapid motions, flicking against me in a way that had me immediately squeezing my thighs around his face, to which Spencer responded by pushing them apart, leaving me shaking. 
“Oh god, Spencer. Oh-” I moan, over and over again, my hand gripping onto the strands of his hair. My eyes squeeze shut as I feel my orgasm rapidly approaching, my legs trembling more than ever. 
“Spencer- I’m gonna-” I groan out, my grip tightening, and I look down, watching him devour me with so much precision and focus, the same I’d seen during his playing all night. I watched as his eyes met mine, his lips sucking around my clit and in a fit of moans, I found myself releasing all over his tongue, my body shuddering as he worked me through my orgasm, moaning against my core. 
He rose from his knees and planted a long, deep kiss on my lips, and I moaned as I tasted myself on him. My hands started to go for his belt, desperate to feel this man inside me. As soon as his cock was freed from the confines of his briefs, I guided him towards my entrance, gasping as I felt him push into me, immediately filling me up. I breathed in sharply from the pleasure of the sensation, my eyes screwing shut before opening them to see his eyes staring back at me. He gave me a moment to adjust, watching my face for any sign of discomfort, but there was none, only the carnal desperation I felt for this man. I nodded to let him know I was ready,  and suddenly, like a man possessed, he began to jut his hips towards mine, causing me to whimper and dig my nails into his back. 
He moaned as he slammed into me, over and over again, while his mouth kissed at my neck, at my jaw, my lips, murmuring my praises over and over again. 
“I’ve wanted this for so long.” He groans, my hips firmly gripped by his large hands, keeping me from slipping off the counter. “And that dress. Fuck. God, I want you.” 
I nod, too overwhelmed with pleasure to even speak, rather opting to moan his name and nod furiously. 
He kept one hand on my hip, while the other trailed down to where we were joined, and began to rub fast, hard circles over my already sensitive bud, the action causing me to gasp out and open my eyes, letting him know that my second release of the night was inevitable. 
“You wanna cum, pretty girl?” He mumbles, keeping his voice low and his fingers diligent on my clit. 
“Please,” I sob out, my voice breaking with just how much I needed this right now. How much I needed him. 
“Come for me.” He murmurs, and as if under a spell, I do, coming undone rapidly in his grasp, my head falling against his shoulder as he continues the movement of his hips until I feel him still, and then spill into me, his breath heavy and chest heaving. 
I pull back, my forehead meeting his as he stares at me in a bit of a trance, our breaths mingling as we both came down from what had just happened. 
“I think.. you should probably cover up.. after that.” He murmurs, grinning a bit at the wide array of marks he’d just left on my neck and chest, undeniably exposing us. 
“Right you are.” I giggle back, leaning in for another kiss.  This time sweeter, softer.
I was definitely wearing this dress again for him.
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  hello!! oh my god!! it has been so long since i've posted a fic. finals are over! i am free! i promise we will be back to a more normal schedule now (can i do weekly fics? who knows. i'll try). as usual, thank you for any and all reblogs, likes and comments. it's been a long time since i've even thought about writing, so i hope this is up to everyone's standards. this was written for @imagining-in-the-margins office party challenge. so, you know. look at the other fics there too! sorry for clearly not knowing anything about card games. also also, just a fun fact. i envisioned readers dress being meredith grey's prom dress from s2ep27.. hehe. okay, i've already talked enough. thank you thank you thank you for reading and supporting!!!
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aventurne · 23 days
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UNDELIVERED❞ - aventurine
summary: his voicemail is full of messages, all from you, never to be heard
warnings: reader is gn, spoilers for the 2.1 penacony quest, angst, hurt/no comfort
notes: like genuinely i am not able to write for him anymore, i’m so sorry if this sucks or anything i’ve been suffering writers block for the longest time 😭
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i saw the prettiest gemstones just now, but they couldn’t match the hue of your eyes. i know people belittle you for it, but i think they’re really beautiful, like all of you. i know you’re probably busy right now. i’ll wait for you to come back before telling you about my day, and you can tell me about yours. do you want to play a few rounds before turning in? i love you.
(played)
thanks for the gift; you seriously didn’t have to. i know you only came to penacony for business, and you didn’t have to take me along either. i’ll make it up to you, i swear. how about a date once you finish work? i heard about this casino; there’s this hotshot there that you might enjoy wiping the floor with. what do you say? see you later. i love you.
(played)
i know something's off, and you’re not telling me about it. where did you go just now? you promised we wouldn’t keep secrets from each other, but you’ve been hiding something the whole time we’ve been here. i’m not angry; i just…i just want you to be open with me. is that so bad? call me back as soon as you can. i love you.
(played)
i’m sorry i yelled at you; your plan wasn’t something… i could agree with, i don’t care if ratio agrees to it. we can work this out; you don’t have to do this alone. just come back, and maybe we can find a better solution. love you.
(played)
i know that i apologized, but it’s not in the way you think it is; maybe it wasn’t even directed at our argument. not sorry, like, "oh, i pity your upbringing," but more of, "sorry for thinking that we could and sorry that we ever tried (to work)." that sounds mean. maybe it is. i could never heal you from the wounds inflicted by your past; they were always too deep to fill up. and i know i wasn’t the best person for you to choose as your second half; why did you do it? why did you pick me out of everyone else? why did you think i was deserving enough of your affection?
look, i know you don't want to talk to me right now. i wouldn't want to either. but i really want this to work out in your favor. i know that i’m being selfish by wanting you even when i can’t. is it wrong to be selfish just this once if it means you’ll live?
yell at me and throw things and scream that i’m as bad as a person like those who hurt you, perhaps even more for knowing that you were hurting and i did it anyway. i don't care. but please don't ignore me. i would rather bleed myself dry for you than be forgotten. i know that nothing i say will change the past; what's done is done. but we can change the future. i don’t want to lose you, not in a million years, in another life, or in any other universe.
we can solve this, find a better alternative, and i can leave afterwards if that’s what you really want. if you can pretend that we’re okay just for a little bit—if you can talk to me one more time—i promise i’ll leave you alone. i promise i’ll never call you again or anything. please call me back. i love you so.
(played)
it’s been seventeen system hours, where are you?
(undelivered)
you’re joking, right? a grand performance? is this just another one of your pranks? there’s no way you- *cuts off*
(undelivered)
you did it, didn’t you? was it worth it?
(undelivered)
hey, please. please come back. i’m sorry. i’ll do anything to have you by my side. don’t leave me alone. please. i can’t live with myself knowing that the last words I said to you face-to-face were “i hate you.” i don’t hate you; i could never hate you. i’d hate the whole world before i could ever do that. please pick up. i love you please.
(undelivered)
it’s pathetic for me to keep calling you over and over again, thinking you’d pick up. maybe some part of me does, or i just want to hear the sound of your voicemail. i hate you; maybe i do hate you. i hate you for leaving me behind and making me think that maybe this would all work out.
(undelivered)
do you think it would have been any different? is it cruel of me to want you when you have never wanted anything else but this? you don’t have to come back as a ghost to haunt me when i’m haunted by everything because it reminds me of you. i can see you in front of me, always protecting me, but never once doing so for yourself. i can hear your laugh—your real laugh, not one of falsehood. i used to draw stars around your scars, didn’t i? but i was the cause of them bleeding you out before you...you’re gone now.
(undelivered)
i miss you. i’m sorry for what i said, and it’s too late now anyway. i won’t be able to forget you, like you told me to. they say that the brain can’t tell whether something is real or a dream, so i’d always believe this horrid dream, even if you’re not here anymore. i think of you all the time now that you’re gone. will you think of me up there?
(undelivered)
*static before it cuts off.*
(undelivered)
i hate the phrase ‘till death do us part’ because even after death, i would still love you. i’ll always be here right where you left me, waiting for you to come home even though i know you won’t.
(undelivered)
sweet dreams. i love you, kakavasha.
(undelivered)
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urdepressedslut · 9 months
Note
Hello lovely,
I saw your post that your requests are open, so I will give it a try =)
Imagine Bucky and reader are best friends but they have a huge argument and now they don't talk to each other for days. She's feeling really bad, missing him. He is her most important person and now without interacting with him for days, she's feeling lost and lonely and heartbroken. Maybe she has not a super power and is only a normal human, helping the Avengers with IT or something. Due to the argument with her best friend and not talking to Bucky (Bucky ignores her completely) she begins to feel it not only mental but also physically. She can't eat probably and at the end falls deathly sick.... With a fluffy happy ending and a worried and protective Bucky
Please. That would be nice.
Take care honey
oh my goodness— my heart 😭❤️ the angst is gonna hurt, but i’m such a sucker for it. i had so much fun writing this one, thank you for requesting and i hope you like it🥰
Love Hurts
♡ Pairing: Beefy!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader
♡ Summary: You and Bucky get into a heated argument, things are said and done and now he won’t speak to you. You don’t think you can handle him ignoring your existence.
♡ Warnings: language, mentions of bucky’s trauma, heavy angst, malnourishment, depression, anxiety/panic attacks, minor injuries, hospitalization, suicidal ideation, self hate, literally hurt just writing this
main masterlist
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT | MATURE CONTENT 18+
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Your nails bit into your palm, denting the flesh— threatening to pierce the delicate skin. It was all to hold yourself back, distract you from the words that wanted to burst out.
It was becoming a sickening routine, Bucky was reckless and had yet another near death experience on his recent mission. The anxiety and the nerves stopping your body from functioning— the dreaded wait for his jet to arrive back at the compound. You shouldn’t have to be used of receiving the call that he had yet again made a reckless move— but you were starting to discover a pattern.
It did nothing to ease the panic that swirled in your chest every time he left for missions. You’d sob, throwing up everything you had eaten that day— unable to stomach anything with the idea that Bucky was on a mission. You never found your anxiety to be so severe— but when Bucky was even mentioned about going on a mission… it spiked.
That’s where you found yourself in his room, watching him pace the space— avoiding your frustrated stare. You weren’t angry at him per say— you were angry that he didn’t value his life.
“Seriously (Y/n)— you get so worked up over nothing. I’m here and alive— isn’t that enough?” He exclaimed, throwing his hands up in frustration.
You pressed your nails tighter to your palm, yet the pain couldn’t stop your thundering thoughts.
“You’re here and alive now, until you do some stupid shit like this again and are dead!” You hissed, trying to keep your voice low but you didn’t know how much longer you could control yourself.
He glared at you, squinting his eyes in anger and then rolling his eyes.
“Oh for fucks sake— can you stop fucking babying me? I can handle myself!” He raised his voice, his metal arm whirring.
“I’m not babying you— I’m just scared you’re gonna get yourself killed. Do you care about your life at all?” You asked him aggressively, your voice raising just a tad.
He took a long pause, staring at you with his face void of emotion— only annoyance.
“Not really.” He admitted.
You were taken back, although you had these conversations with him a time or twenty. It was an ongoing process to get him to slowly love himself— his past as The Winter Soldier torturing his soul. He was so convinced he wasn’t deserving of anything, not even a roof over his head. It was a struggle to help him, but you weren’t going to give up on him.
“You realize if anything ever happened to you I—” Your voice broke, needing a breath, “Buck I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.”
You thought you saw his eyes flash with guilt, but before you could linger on the look for too long— his face was hardening again.
“That doesn’t sound like my problem.” He mumbled out, making your eyes widen.
You were extremely taken back from those words, your chest aching painfully— him not knowing what effect those words had on you.
“Are you fucking serious?” You asked him, your face morphing into a hurt expression, mixed with anger. “Can you just do your job without trying to kill yourself?”
His face grew red with rage and he was stomping up towards you— his face inches from yours.
“I am doing my job— very well in fact. Unlike you who just fucking sits here doing nothing!” He defended himself, his breath hitting your face in warm pants.
“Doing nothing? Buck— why are you like this?” You puffed your chest, not backing down from his towering form.
But your words seemed to have hit a nerve, as he shrunk back slightly, narrowing his gaze at you.
“Like what?”
You furrowed your brows, slowing your racing heart from the shouting— you weren’t sure you had said anything bad. Did you?
“What?” You squeaked out, nervous now.
“You said, why am I like this… like what?” He pushed, stepping closer to you now, his face still red with anger but you could see the hurt in his eyes.
You swallowed and wondered how to convince him you didn’t mean anything bad by what you said. But you were almost positive it would be an impossible task to get Bucky to listen.
“Buck, I didn’t mean anythin—”
“What— you think I’m not capable of doing my job? You think I’m still the monster hydra made me?” He spat, his chest rising and falling quicker.
“No, no Buck listen—”
That was definitely not what you meant, you could tell he was spiraling and you were still confused as to why. You would never make him think that.
“After 70 fucking years I finally have a job that I like— that I enjoy doing— I fucking help people! I’m finally doing some good and now you’re telling me I’m not capable of doing it?” He boomed, his chest puffing into yours and your stumbled back slightly. “You think I’m only capable of being a monster? Huh? Is that what you fucking think?”
You were growing scared now, the look in his eyes wild with something and you didn’t like how close he was to you— you knew he’d never hurt you but your fear overwhelmed your senses.
“Friday— call Steve and Sam in here now!” You shouted into the room, and Bucky’s eyes squinted painfully— his metal arm whirring again.
Bucky only saw one thing— you didn’t reassure him that he was thinking irrationally. You didn’t correct him that he wasn’t the monster. Instead you called for help, that you were clearly scared— because you thought he was a monster.
He was at a loss for words and just stared at you, almost through you— as his breathing was only getting heavier at the sight of your fearful eyes.
Not even minutes later, Steve and Sam were busting through the door, taking in the scene and separated you and Bucky.
“Hey— what’s going on?” Steve asked in between the two of you. “Buck, what’s wrong man?”
You couldn’t seem to find the words and just stood speechless as well— the fight startling you. This was one of the worst ones, and it was also one that still left you confused. You cursed yourself for not being careful enough with your words— but it was almost impossible to get through to him when he was on the brink of having an episode.
Sam walked closer to you, his facing morphing into concern as he took in your shocked expression.
“(Y/n)? You okay? Did he hurt you?” Sam whispered, keeping his words only between you two.
You slowly shook your head but still didn’t respond verbally.
“Okay, okay that’s good. You wanna go get a drink from downstairs? Why don’t we take a breather okay?” Sam suggested softly, big brother mode kicking in at the sight of your frazzled state.
Without another word, you left the room with Sam— missing the devastated look from Bucky.
Steve waited until the door shut, then his attention was back on Bucky.
“Buck, you gotta talk to me man— what happened?” He asked softly, watching his friend slowly relax, but it wasn’t from being in a relaxing mood— his body and mind were just exhausted from the argument.
“I fucked everything up. That’s what happened.” He mumbled, turning away from Steve to sit on the edge of his bed.
Steve followed behind but stood in front of him, shaking his head— ready to argue.
“You didn’t mess anything up, arguments happen. You guys will work it out. I know how much you mean to each other.” Steve pointed out, watching Bucky’s face unchanging.
“You didn’t see the way she looked at me— she’s scared of me I—” He shuttered, his breath shaky as he remembered your look, “I fucking scared her.”
Steve’s chest ached, the state of his friend breaking his heart. He knew Bucky meant no harm, and he almost for a fact knew that you knew that too. But Bucky for sure didn’t believe that himself.
“I didn’t see what you saw, but I can guarantee you that she’s not afraid of you. This is (Y/n) we are talking about. You are her world Buck.” Steve tried to convince him.
Bucky shook his head, running his flesh hand through his hair.
“I think I just need to stay away from her for awhile.” Bucky came up with instead.
Steve immediately started shaking his head, knowing that was the last thing he needed.
“Bucky I—”
“Please Steve… I just need some space.” Bucky pleaded, his body sagging in exhaustion.
Steve couldn’t find it in himself to argue with him anymore about this. Maybe he did need some time to himself, to cool down and gather his thoughts. Also Steve wasn’t going to force him to anything ever. After the years his pal went through— he would never make him do anything. He had enough things decided for him, and Steve wasn’t about to stoop to hydra’s level.
Meanwhile down in the kitchen, Sam was getting you a glass of water— standing across from your seated form at the island. He slid the cup across, sending a worried glance at you.
“(Y/n)?” Sam snapped his fingers getting your attention.
You were shaken from your state of staring, but even snapped out of the trance— the anxieties still swirled within you.
“Yeah sorry… I’m here.” You whispered, grabbing the glass and taking a tiny sip.
Sam gave you a quizzical expression, watching you start to slip back into a mindless stare— so he spoke up.
“You wanna tell me what happened?” He asked, genuinely curious what had went down.
He knew— hell everyone knew you and Bucky were extremely close. Best of friends, always there for one another— dancing on the line of strictly friends to lovers. Truthfully, Sam found it completely obnoxious and just wanted you two together already.
“I don’t really know… I think I said the wrong thing— I didn’t mean to make him upset.” You confessed, keeping your eyes on the countertop, not risking a glance to Sam.
“Hey, don’t beat yourself up— mistakes happen. I’m sure he’ll forgive you.” Sam told you.
You shook your head, gripping the cup tighter.
“God I hope so… I don’t know what I’d do without him.” You whispered pathetically, tears welling in your eyes.
Sam reached out to rub your arm comfortingly, trying to relax you so you didn’t start crying. He hated to see you cry— made his heart hurt.
“It’s been a long day for everyone, why don’t you go head upstairs and get some sleep. I’m sure things will have blown over by tomorrow.” He suggested and you finally met his gaze, smiling weakly and nodding.
Without saying goodbye, you stood up and headed to your room. Taking Sam’s words and playing them on repeat in your head.
Tomorrow is another day, tomorrow would be better.
God had you hoped that was the case— it only was the beginning on the torment.
You had slept in longer than usual, but overall felt refreshed. The first thing that came to mind when fully waking up was Bucky. Immediately you headed downstairs to find him— needing to talk with him— apologize.
Making it down to the kitchen, you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding in at the sight of him sitting at the island— sipping at his coffee. You furrowed your brows, thinking he'd be done with his coffee by now, since you had slept in. Your chest ached with guilt with the possibility that he didn't sleep well.
You took a deep breath before making yourself known, although you were sure be could sense you in the room— considering he was a super soldier.
"Morning Buck." You announced, walking around the island so you could face him.
He kept his gaze down at his coffee, finding the cup more interesting than you.
Okay, that’s fair. You thought, you most probably deserved that reaction.
“You sleep okay?” You asked again, picking at the skin on your nails nervously.
Again— he didn’t even lift his head. In fact, he wasn’t even acknowledging you. You waited several minutes for a response, the silence becoming thick with tension and you couldn’t stand it.
“Bucky?” You tried, and this time he lifted his head.
Your heart twinged in your chest at his bloodshot eyes, clear evidence that he hadn’t gotten good sleep. You hated yourself for causing him the stress, especially knowing he was just starting to actually get hours of sleep. It was huge progress compared to his nights either screaming awake or just staring at the walls. But now you had to go and ruin all that progress. You felt sick to your stomach— disgusted with yourself.
“I’m really sorry about last night… I didn’t like how ugly it got and I’m sorry if I said something to upset you— you know I’d never intentionally hurt you.” You told him, picking more aggressively at your nails, causing to nail beds to bleed.
You swallowed nervously when he didn’t answer right away, instead staring at you with… what was that? Disgust? You didn’t know, but you hated the look altogether.
“Bucky, please say something.” You pleaded.
Bucky lowered his gaze to his coffee again, taking a minute before he stood up and looked your way.
“I just need some space.” He told you quietly.
You were relived to have him finally talk to you, but to hear him suggest space between you two— you could almost feel the knife digging into your chest. You tried to keep a neutral expression but otherwise felt your bottom lip quiver.
Without giving you time to respond, Bucky was walking out of the room— leaving you standing there speechless, lungs begging for air. You didn’t want your mind to go immediately to that thought, but you couldn’t ignore it either— he hated you.
“Hey babe, I need you to help me out in the lab tod—” Tony came busting into the room, but immediately shut up once he saw your broken expression. “Honey, what’s wrong? You alright?”
You nodded your head, lying to him and yourself and started waving him off with the fakest smile.
“Yeah— yeah I’m good. Just need to uh— need to get some things done.” You told him, your eyes darting all around the room, the familiar feeling of panic seeping into your being.
Tony gave you a ‘really?’ look and stepped closer to you.
“(Y/n) I’m not blind— I can see you’re upset. Talk to m—”
“Seriously Tony— I’m fine! Just leave it alone!” You told him a little too aggressively.
His face was taken back and you felt guilty immediately, cursing yourself for hurting everyone.
Why are you such a fucking issue? Your mind screamed at you.
You didn’t waste another second and sped walked out of the room, needing to calm yourself down before you ran into any one else. You were spiraling and you needed to just relax— take a deep breath. Maybe you just needed one more day and things would be back to normal.
Yeah… just one more day.
You had hoped that was the case as well… but as always— things only got worse.
Bucky refused to talk to you or even look at you. He’d given you the cold shoulder for almost two weeks now. He would get up and leave the second you entered the room. He couldn’t stand you it seemed.
You couldn’t keep hiding your hurt. At first, you had done a good job at hiding how you were really feeling. Saving the sobbing and attacks for when you were alone in your room. As the days lingered on, you found yourself weak and drained— you didn’t have enough energy to put up a charade anymore.
The whole team were sending you worried looks, and attempted to talk with you. But the second they’d try— you’d bolt. The subject was too sensitive, too raw. You didn’t want to talk to anyone but Bucky— and he hated you.
You had missed so many meals, forgetting to eat with your mental struggles throughout the days. You had been getting no more than two hours of sleep. You were so stressed, so stuck in your own mind that you couldn’t function. Even when you had managed to remember to eat, your stomach would knot up to the point that you were throwing everything up. You were gaunt, basically a real life zombie. You needed help— but you needed Bucky more.
You were laying in bed staring unknowingly into space, it had been hard to focus with no food or sleep in your system— so you had only managed to lay here. Even that was exhausting, no matter how much you laid around— your mind wouldn’t stop the assault. Your anxiety had never been this bad, you were a prisoner to it.
Knocking at your door had you jumping, your heart racing— and for a moment you forgot where you were.
You’re in the compound… yeah that’s right.
You slowed your breathing and swung your legs sluggishly over the edge of the bed to answer it. You weren’t prepared for the sudden dizzy spell, your vision spotting with black and white specks. You tried to blink it off, but suddenly you were toppling to the ground.
You fell to the floor with a loud thump, luckily landing on your front, your hands somehow catching most of your fall— you could already feel the throbbing in your palms.
You didn’t hear the persistent knocking, or the door open. You didn’t even hear the voice speaking from the doorway. It was when a hand landed on your shoulder that you were gasping, forgetting your surroundings once again.
Your eyes met Steve’s and you swore your heart was about to beat out of your chest.
“(Y/n) are you alright?” He asked you, hovering his hands over you— not sure what you had hurt.
You furrowed your brows, looking him over.
“Steve what are… what are you doing here?” You asked genuinely confused.
You watched Steve’s eyes widen and he swallowed nervously— his expression growing more concerned.
“(Y/n) it’s okay… I’ve got you.” Steve hushed, and he was pulling you into his chest, hugging you protectively.
You were still confused but then you tasted one of your stray tears, and you immediately came to your senses. You were crying in Steve’s arms… but why? You were having gaps of time missing from you, this wasn’t the first time this had happened— you just didn’t seem to care.
“Steve… my head hurts.” You slurred into his chest, sagging against him.
You were grateful that he was here, you desperately needed someone around. You were just hoping that someone would’ve been Bucky.
“Okay, let’s get you to Helen. She’s gonna take care of you, okay?” Steve asked you, and you could only give a weak nod.
He knew there was no way you were walking there, so he hoisted you up into his arms, and cradled your head as he started to the med bay.
You just stared blankly at his chest, not really caring if Steve were to throw you off the roof of the building. You just didn’t care.
Steve had gotten you down to her, and she checked you out. Alerting Steve that you were extremely malnourished, dehydrated— an insomniac. She kept listing off all the things Steve was afraid to hear. The whole time he was sure you didn’t hear a thing, although you were in the room— you were just checked out.
Helen eventually left, and Steve took his opportunity to speak with you. He pulled up a chair next to the hospital bed and grabbed your hand.
“(Y/n), what’s going on? You can talk to me— you can’t keep doing this to yourself. Please… just talk to me.” Steve whispered, pleading with you that you would stop torturing yourself.
“He hates me.” You mumbled.
Steve’s eyes widened and he frowned, knowing what you meant. He knew he let this go on for too long.
“(Y/n) he doesn’t hate you. He just needed time to himself, so he co—”
“I didn’t mean to hurt his feelings, I don’t even know what I said to hurt him but I—” You rushed out, the heart monitor beeping frantically, “I’m a horrible person, I didn’t mean to— I didn’t mean to!”
You wheezed out, clutching your chest as you couldn’t catch your breath. Your cheeks glistened with a steady stream of tears, your wheezing only growing by the second.
“Okay, okay (Y/n)— I need you to slow your breathing. You’re okay, he doesn’t hate you. Just take deep breaths okay— even if you can’t just try. I’m here.” He tried to coach you, but this wasn’t his thing.
Now he was starting to get mad at his friend, Bucky shouldn’t of let this go on for this long.
You followed his chest rising and falling, staring at him as he tried to calm you down. Your breaths were heavy and painful sounding. Steve was about to say something but stopped himself when he saw your eyes look behind him.
He turned and saw Bucky standing in the doorway— his face paled. Truthfully, he looked like he was going to be sick.
“(Y/n)?” He whispered, his heart breaking at your state.
He had ran into Helen in the kitchen and was informed of your condition— he didn’t believe it and had to see for himself. He was shocked to find you like this.
Your tears only edged on from his appearance and you shook your head in shame.
“I’m sorry Bucky! Whatever I did, I’m sorry!” You sobbed and Bucky ran to the bed, kneeling down and taking your hands into his.
“Doll it’s okay, you’re okay. I’m here— I’m here. I’m not gonna leave you… I’m sorry.” He rushed out, shushing your cries, watching you slow your breathing at his words. “There we go, just keep breathing with me. I’m here, you’re okay.”
He kept repeating himself, making sure you knew he wasn’t going anywhere.
Steve knew you were in good hands and slowly snuck out of the room— knowing you two needed to talk.
Bucky tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear, letting his fingers trail down your cheek to your jaw. You couldn’t help the way your face leaned into his touch, it felt like it had been forever since the last one.
Your breathing had slowed down, and now you just stared up at him— eyes glossy with more tears. You felt so many emotions. You felt relived, but also angry and hurt. Above all— you needed to know what you did to upset him. The guilt still ate away at your heart, and even just the memory of the argument had your chest aching.
“What did I do?” You whispered, making his eyes shoot up to yours, concern painting his face.
“You didn’t do anything.” He told you, and you furrowed your brows.
You were still anxious— he hadn’t answered your question. Even more so— if you didn’t do anything then why did he ignore you?
“Then why?”
“Why what (Y/n)?” He dared to ask, and you scoffed— ripping your hands out of his.
The anger was approaching.
“Why did you shut me out?” You wondered, and he only let his eyes cast down to the bed— making you angrier. “You ignored me for two weeks! Two fucking weeks you just acted as if I didn’t exist! Do you know how much that fucking hurts?”
You were breathing heavy again, but this time it wasn’t from panic— it was the full force of all your anger bursting out.
He lifted his eyes to you, and you saw how broken he looked. How your state had affected him.
“I could never do that to you Buck— I would never do that to you! You’re my everything! I don’t trust anyone as much as I trust you!” You raised your voice, while he stayed silent. “If I didn’t do anything then why would you— why—”
You broke out into a sob, covering your face with your hands. You felt good getting all the built up anger out— but now you felt extremely guilty. The pitiful face of Bucky staring at you, causing your heart to hurt all over again. It didn’t matter what happened, you always ended up hurting others.
“(Y/n) I’m so sorry I— god I fucked up. I didn’t ever mean to hurt you, please know that. You’re my other half, and no one has ever been there for me like you have.” He spoke through a tight throat, swelling with emotion.
You uncovered your face and just stared at him a little longer, still incredibly hurt from his actions— but you knew you couldn’t stay mad at him. You so badly wanted to forgive and forget— and just wrap him in your arms like you both needed.
“It’s hard to explain what’s wrong with me to someone when I don’t even understand what’s wrong with me— I just know I’m fucked up. I’m broken beyond repair.” His voice broke, his own eyes welling with tears.
You didn’t have it in you to keep up an angry facade, and so you reached out and took his hand in yours. His face almost immediately lit up, his breathing slowing at your touch.
“Try me.” You whispered, watching Bucky take a deep breath before he spoke again.
“The night of our fight…” He started, and you swallowed in having to remember that night. “I had never seen you look at me like that.”
You stayed silent, afraid to open your mouth and have a sob escape. You could feel it bubbling up— the memory playing back through your mind.
“You looked at me like you were scared. You looked at me like I was a monster.” He confessed and it all made sense to you now.
It wasn’t about what you said, it was your reaction that disturbed him to no ends. Even if you couldn’t control your reaction in the moment— you still felt guilty for causing him pain of remembering the hydra days.
“Oh Buck…” You whimpered, trying to pull him close— but he pulled away before he could reach your embrace.
“No— you don’t get to be nice to me after what I did. I promised I would never hurt you and I did— you’re in here because of me! I don’t deserve your forgiveness!” He raised his voice, and you weren’t scared of him— just concerned.
“I wasn’t scared of you Bucky, you just caught me off guard. Things were heated— I’m not afraid of you and I most definitely don’t think you’re a monster.” You tried to convince him.
“I really hope you’re not lying because if you were afraid of me… god I don’t know what I’d do. If you never wanted to see me again— that’s fine. Whatever you want, but I can’t live knowing you’re afraid of me.” He whimpered out.
“I wouldn’t lie to you.”
He nodded his head, knowing damn well you’d never lie. That was one thing he loved about you— you were so honest. Keeping it real with him, even if he didn’t wanna hear it. He could count on you for the truth.
“I still don’t deserve your forgiveness.” He argued.
“Well too bad, I’m forgiving you anyway.” You finally told him and he felt his chest expand.
Like he could finally breath.
“Why?” He wondered.
You knew it was the line you two had been dancing on forever— but you knew if there was ever a time to say it. It was now.
“Because I love you.” You admitted quietly.
His eyes widened just slightly, and his breath stuttered. He had always had a feeling what you two had was more than friends, he just never spoke up about it. Of course he loves you too— god he loves you so much. That’s why the thought of you being scared of him was enough to pull him away. He couldn’t bear being around you if you were frightened by him. He couldn’t live with himself. More importantly he now discovered, he really couldn’t live without you.
“I love you so much.” He confessed back as your tears leaked down your cheeks.
You pulled his arm, and he let you pull him to the bed— close enough where you could cup both his cheeks.
“Don’t ever do that to me again, please. I need you Bucky— life is not livable without you.” You cried, kissing his forehead to which he leaned into your lips.
“Never again— I promise.”
This time, he wouldn’t break it.
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norrizzandpia · 6 months
Text
Happy Birthday (LN4)
Summary: It’s his favorite person’s birthday
Warnings: literally none just language
Note: my bday being a few days ago has nothing to do with this!!!!!!!! I know it’s short but I got a late start to this tn 😭😭 hopefully I can get some much needed writing time tomorrow
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landonorris happy birthday to my person! I told myself I would just say all of this to your face but on second thought I want the world to know just how much I care about you. To be honest, when we first met, I never thought we would be here; in love and prepared to spend the rest of our lives together. I just didn’t think you would like me that way. However, the day you said yes to going on a date with me will forever be one of the greatest days of my life. That was the day my life truly started because, as cliche as it is, you are my life. I’ve never cared or loved someone as hard as I do you and I’m eternally honored to be the person you come home to at the end of the day. Being your boyfriend over these past few years has taught me a few things. The first thing being that someone’s laugh actually can become your favorite sound. Always thought that was an over exaggeration but hearing you laugh and knowing I was the one to make you laugh is completely different from the happiness I feel when I win a race. The feeling’s better because you’re better. The second thing being that loving someone doesn’t have to be hard. I feel like people think love is a hard thing but with you it’s not. From the start, loving you has been easy because you understand me and you love me wholly for who I am. There has never been a time where I had to force myself to love you or work to strengthen the love I harbor for you, and there will never be a time that will happen. Loving you is like watching the sunrise. It’s peaceful and quiet, beautiful to look at and experience, and, most of all, it’s relieving because you know there’s going to be the hardships of the day, but that’s ok because you can always come back to the memory of waking up, starting your day, with such a gorgeous view. I don’t have to say that I think you’re the most stunning person to grace this Earth, you already know. But, if somehow you don’t, I’ll repeat it to you for the rest of our lives. Lastly, sorry I know this is long, the third thing you have taught me is to enjoy life. People seem to think that mentality came from my own mind, but, no, it didn’t. It came from you who said it to me one night when I had a panic attack over the stress of racing and performing well. You sat with me in our bed, held me as I freaked out, comforted me, and told me that I had forgotten to enjoy life. In the moment, you had related that statement to me enjoying the privilege of being able to do what I love as a profession especially when what I want to do is so hard to get in to. Although, after thinking on that statement, I realize that enjoying life has nothing to do with racing and everything to do with you. Enjoying life is cherishing the moments where I get to wake up to you, cherishing the times when you tell me you love me, cherishing the ability to love you, cherishing the calls I get in the middle of the night because you don’t care what time it is where I am, all you want do to is tell me the gossip you heard that day, cherishing the fact that I’m the person you want to spill those secrets to, cherishing the knowledge that I’m the person you trust enough to confide in, and cherishing you. Anyways, I should stop now because you’re actually calling my phone as I write this. Probably going to tell me something about your high school arch nemesis coming back into your life to ask for F1 tickets. Don’t worry, I’ll act surprised and tell you she’s out of her mind if she thinks she’s coming anywhere near a race circuit dressed in our colors. Happy birthday, baby.
Loved always by me,
Your biggest fan 🧡
Comments:
mclarensgirlyy SO BASICALLY ILL JUST GO THROW MYSELF OFF A CLIFF THEN
f1fan22 i will never recover.
ynnn LANDO THIS IS THE SWEETEST THING I HAVE EVER READ I AM FUCKING CRYING I LOVE YOU SO SO MUCH LAN THANK YOU I LOVE YOU
- landonorris I love you more baby
- mclarenfan4 STOP THIS MADNESS 😭😭😭😭😭😭
ln4andop81 he is so gone for her like I just genuinely don’t even think winning is top priority for him anymore it’s her
- landonorris ofc I’m literally so in love with her she’s my end all, be all
- ynnn so I’ve passed away.
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lanadelnegan · 8 months
Note
Hi I’m kinda shy about this one. So the reader has been traveling with dead city cowboy Negan for awhile and she’s liked him for a long time but she’s a virgin and she wants him to take it.
Don't be shy bb, I am a slutttt for dead city Negan. Basically, think of this as if you were in Ginny's shoes, but you're 18.
Our Little Cabin
Dead City!Negan x Reader
Warnings: smut, 18+, NSFW, virgin reader, vaginal sex, fingering, family death (reader's mom), reader seduces the hell out of negan, extreme age-gap (reader is 18, negan is 50ish), masturbating (both), masturbating in front of Negan while he refuses to touch you, daddy-kink, breeding kink, cuddling, pure filth
A/n: If you like slow burn, sexual tension and a "hard to get" daddy Negan, this one is for you. I promise one day I'll finally write a fic without daddy-kink, but today is not that day.
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"Can we go home now, Negan? My legs hurt." I complain, dragging my feet lazily through the leaves.
He stops and sighs, resting his hands on his hips. I stop too and stare at him. That damn cowboy hat.. I swear he wears it just to tease me.. and it's working.
"Yeah, doll. Sun'll be going down soon anyway."
"Ugh thank god." My head falls back dramatically and he chuckles as we start our way back.
Negan took me under his wing a few months ago when some assholes attacked Oceanside, killing my family and everyone I know. I was lucky - if you wanna call it that - enough to escape. I ran into Negan in the woods and it's just been me and him ever since. I'm thankful for him, considering I never had a dad or father figure growing up. My mom was my best friend.. and now she's gone. But at least I have him.
I've grown attached to Negan over the recent months.. But something feels.. different lately. I'm not sure what suddenly changed over the last few weeks, but I've caught myself imagining things about him that I shouldn't. Even touching myself to the thought of him. I feel so guilty afterwards, but I can't stop. I've never been with anyone.. never kissed anyone.. never touched anyone. And my body is screaming at me for it. I can't even look at him anymore without imagining what he looks like under his clothes.
"Why're you so quiet, kid?" He glances at me as we walk.
Ugh, I hate it when he calls me kid.
I shrug. "Just thinkin'."
"About?"
"Doesn't matter." And I've convinced myself it doesn't. I'll never be with someone romantically, because for one.. it's the apocalypse. It's not like I have a school full of hot boys lined up ready to ask me to prom. Not that I'd give them a chance anyway. I'd probably be more into the teachers. And second, the man I want would never think of me that way.
"That's not true."
"You don't even know what I'm thinking, so how can you say that?"
"Anything you think about - worry about - matters to me, y/n. So, spill."
We finally make it back to our little cabin. We've been staying in it for awhile, stocking it with food and supplies. No one has found us yet.. It's kinda nice. But I won't get used to it. Because nothing good lasts forever.
I throw myself on the couch dramatically, as if our walk that we've done a hundred times now could've killed me.
"I don't know... I just, I feel like most kids - people - my age have already experienced more in life that I have."
"Like?"
"Sex." I blurt before I can stop myself. I look to Negan to see his reaction, but he's surprisingly not that alarmed. His eyebrows are raised as he studies me, probably more shocked that I actually had the balls to say that in front of him.
"Listen, I don't really feel comfortable doing the whole birds and bees talk with you."
My cheeks turn pink with embarrassment and I nod disappointedly.
"Sorry, it's just.. I - no one's really talked to me about it before. My mom said she would when I was ready.. but then she.. she.." I fight back the tears. I hate crying. You can't come across weak in the times we live in and I've been forced to be strong my entire life.
He looks at me finally and sighs, holding his arm out for me to come snuggle next to him. It's not the first time he's held me as I've cried over my mom. Won't be the last.
I bury my head in his chest, sniffling, as his hand rubs my back.
"Alright, kid. What do you wanna know?" He gives in, feeling sorry for me.
"Well, I know how it works, but I guess I just wanna know what it feels like." I feel him tense underneath me as he adjusts himself awkwardly.
"No boyfriends at Oceanside?"
"There were boys.. but none that I was interested in."
"You'll find someone when the time is right. You're still young."
"Well you don't have anyone, and you're.. not young."
"Jeez, kid. Thanks." He chuckles. "I did have someone. A few someone's actually. Lost them all to this cruel world." He admits and my heart hurts for him.
"Well, you have me now." I get more comfortable, laying my head in his lap and looking up at him. He shifts uncomfortably but eventually relaxes and even strokes my hair lightly.
"Yeah, I do. And nothing is going to happen to you. You're safe with me, doll." Butterflies swirl around in stomach, but I know he doesn't mean that in the way I wish he did. He sees me as a kid.. hell, as his kid. For a moment my heart sinks from jealously at the "someones" he mentioned. Lucky bitches.
"...Negan.. does it.. feel good?" I blush a little.
"Sex? .....Yeah, doll. It fucking feels good."
"Will you.. show me?" I stare up at him innocently and his hand abruptly stops stroking my hair.
He bends over, planting a kiss on my forehead. "Time for bed, darlin'." He pushes me gently up and off his lap before standing and heading to his room. The cabin is small but we each have our own rooms. His is the smaller one, right across from mine. He wanted me to have the bigger one.
I sit on the couch, feeling defeated and stupid. What was I thinking. I relax on the couch for a little longer, choosing to read a book to take my mind off what just happened. After an hour of barely keeping my eyes open, I close the book and head down the hall towards my room. I stop in front of Negan's door, peaking through the crack. He always leaves his door a few inches open just so he can hear if anything happens. My eyes widen when I notice the sheets are barely covering the lower half of his legs, revealing the rest of his body. His tan torso is exposed, showing his peppery chest hair, and his black boxers are low on his waist. I restrain myself from not jumping him right then.
I eventually make my way back to my room and change out of my clothes, throwing on some shorts and a tank top to sleep in. I can't get the image of Negan's body out of my head and find my hand slowly making its way towards my aching center once I'm finally in bed. I close my eyes, imaging Negan between my legs as I touch myself. I don't bother suppressing my moans, confident that Negan is fully asleep. "Mmm, Negan!" The sound of his name rolling off my tongue as I'm pleasuring myself brings me closer to the edge.
"Oh, Negan. Right there!" My door suddenly swings open and I snap my eyes open to see a worried Negan standing in my doorway.. still in his boxers. My hand flies out of my shorts and I throw the sheets over me.
"Oh my god, can you knock?!"
"I - you yelled for me." He says flustered. I notice the way his face reddens when he realizes what I was doing.
I gently pull the covers off me again and spread my legs a little.
"What are you doing, y/n?" He stands in front of me at the doorway, refusing to look at anything other than my eyes. That's okay.. I bet I can make him look at me down there. I like the challenge.
"What's it look like?" My bite the tip of my finger seductively at him before sliding my shorts to the side, completely revealing my pussy to him.
He glances down with a serious look across his face, like he can't believe I'm doing this. And neither can I. This is so unlike me, but I'm so desperate for him I don't even know how to control myself anymore.
The fact that he's still watching encourages me to continue. I use one hand to pull my shorts to the side and the other to slowly slide a finger through my wet slit. "I just wanna know what it feels like, daddy."
I study him closely, noticing the way his jaw ticks at the nickname. My eyes travel lower and I see his bulge through his boxers. It looks so big, but I'd be determined to make it fit no matter what.
My finger dips inside of me and I arch my back a little and moan, putting on a show for him. He stands with his back against the wall, refusing to move.
I start rubbing my clit slowly and get frustrated when he still isn't reacting. "Negan, please touch me."
He rubs a hand down his face with frustration. "Goddamn it, y/n."
"I just.. I need you. Please." I cringe at my desperate attempt to have him touch me. I need this man so bad it's embarrassing.
"I can't, baby."
"But you like watching me, don't you?"
I take it as a yes when he doesn't say anything and that's all I need before pushing myself over the edge. "Negan!" I cry out as my orgasm rushes through me. Even in the dark, I can see the lust burning through his eyes.
"Go to bed, y/n." He demands but I'm unable to read his tone. Is he mad, proud, annoyed?
I fall asleep at the thought of him giving in and touching me. Maybe if I think hard enough, I'll manifest it.. I heard that shit really works.
Negan's POV:
That girl is gonna be the fucking death of me.
She's been so flirty with me lately and I've been trying to ignore it. But fuck if she's not making it hard. Literally.. I'm hard as a fucking rock right now.
I refuse to touch my dick while thinking about her. She's thirty-fucking-three years younger than me for fuck's sake.
She's confused. She doesn't want me, and she damn sure isn't getting me. Apocalypse or not, it's still fucking wrong.
I drag a hand down my face and sigh. I shouldn't have watched her, but I couldn't look away. She flashed her fucking pussy right in my face and I just stood there.. watching her. Fuck me.
My dick is throbbing and I know I won't be able to sleep until I get some relief. "Fuck it."
I pull myself out of my boxers and immediately start stroking my dick. I think about anything but.. her. Fuck.. y/n. That pretty little wet pussy dripping right in front of me. The way she said my name when she came.
"Ahh, fuuuck. Y/n, fuck." I cum hard and fast and immediately regret it afterwards. Fuck is wrong with me.
I can't - and I won't let myself think about her like that again.
Y/n's POV:
I wake up before Negan and decide to read my book some more in the living room. It's a romance novel that I found one day in an abandoned car. I've read it four times already, but it seems to be the only romance I'll ever get in life, so why the fuck not.
"Morning, sunshine." Negan says sleepily as he walks towards the kitchen next to the living room. He grabs a handful of berries we picked yesterday and tosses them in his mouth before making me a cup full and putting them down next to me.
"Morning. Thanks." I say without looking at him.
He sits on the couch next to me. "You wanna talk about last night?"
My cheeks redden. "Nope."
"Okay, then I will." Great, here comes the lecture. "Y/n, I shouldn't have watched you. We both know that. But, I think you're just confused. It's just been the two of us for months now and you're all young and.. fucking horny and shit. But, us? It can't happen."
I stay silent, pretending to read my book.
"Seriously? The silent treatment? You sure did have a lot to say last night."
I remain stubbornly quiet, popping a handful of berries in my mouth.
"Y/n, I don't understand why you're upset right now. Talk to me."
"I'm not upset." I snap. "I'm embarrassed.. humiliated. I was stupid to think you'd ever be into me."
He sighs and I see his head drop out of the corner of my eye. "Darlin', if I was your age, I'd be all fucking over you. Trust me. Please don't be embarrassed, okay? You are hot as shit and any man your age would be lucky to have you. We can forget it happened if that's what you want." He holds his arm out again, and like always, I snuggle into him.
"I don't want to forget." My hand rests against his white t-shirt and I want so badly to slide underneath it and run my fingers through is tummy hair.
A moment of silence goes by before he finally whispers. "Me neither, doll."
I look up at him, my face dangerously close to his. "I love you, Negan."
His hand reaches up to caress my face as if he's scared to hurt me. "I love you too, baby... Just not like that."
He wipes the tear that falls from my cheek and my heart shatters in my chest.
One month later...
My feelings for Negan haven't faded; I'm just better at not showing them. We've been more touchier than usual... cuddling on the couch, holding hands when we walk, but nothing "inappropriate." We also haven't mentioned that night. It's like it never happened, which still hurts when I think about it.
I get done bathing myself off after dinner and slip into my usual sleepwear before crashing to the bed and pulling my book from the nightstand. I could quote every line in it by now.
I start to drift off right before a loud boom hits right outside my window, following a bright flash of lightning. I try to fall asleep, but every time I doze off, another loud boom jolts me awake. I toss and turn for an hour before deciding to do something I know I shouldn't.
I crack Negan's door open slowly, trying not to wake him and gently slip into bed next to him. I also may or may not have taken my sleep shorts off, leaving me in just my pink panties and black tank top. I ease underneath the covers and lay facing him. He's usually a light sleeper, so between the thunder and me sneaking into his bed, I'm surprised he's not awake.
I'm completely still for a good ten minutes, making sure he's still sound asleep before I make any movements. When he lets out a little snore, I slowly slide the blanket down off of him. I imagine myself reaching over and running my fingers through his thick chest hair. I keep sliding the covers down further and further, careful not to wake him, until I get to just below the waistband of his boxers. My eyes trail from the deep v in his abdomen to the black hairs peaking above his underwear and I let myself imagine what it would be like to touch him right now.. to slide my hand down his boxers and feel him. I've wondered how big he is for so long.. trying to steal glimpses of him through his pants when he walks, or catch him with the covers down while he's sleeping.
I decide to pull the covers slightly further down and my mouth gapes open at the sight. He's hard.. so hard that I can see the outline of him through his boxers as it threatens to poke through his underwear. My mouth waters at his size and I know if he ever put it in me, it would definitely hurt like hell.
After I've stared at it long enough to feel like a total creep, my eyes travel back up his body and I almost yelp when I see his head is slightly turned and his eyes are watching me curiously, as if he's been waiting for me to make a move.
"I - uh.. The thunder.. I got scared." I explain.
"Nice try, kid. Go back to bed."
"Negan, please. Just let me sleep here. Nothing weird, I just.. don't wanna be alone."
He sighs and that alone tells me he's going to let me. I hide my excitement as I turn over, facing away from him and snuggling into the covers. They smell like him.. musk and leather.. and the scent makes me practically feral. He's still on his back, but my ass is barely touching his side. It's hardly anything, and it's not like we haven't cuddled before, but the thought of my ass so close to him sets my insides on fire.
Another lightning strike hits outside his window this time and I flinch a little, not purposely meaning for my ass to press into him even more. He doesn't react and I wonder if he's already asleep.
"Negan...?" I say softly.
"Hm?"
"Will you hold me?"
"Y/n, you are seriously pushing it. Go to sleep."
a few minutes go by before another boom echoes in the distance and I jump a little again.
He sighs heavily and turns over, draping his arm over my waist and pressing his body firmly against mine. His dick is pressed against my ass, but it's not as hard anymore... and that hurts a little.
"Go to fucking sleep."
I hold his hand tightly against my lower stomach and embrace this moment with him. I want him so bad that I can literally feel my vagina throbbing. If it could speak, it would be meowing like a cat in heat right now. I close my eyes and imagine him sliding in me from behind. I get a little too lost in the thought and accidentally arch a little, grinding my ass further into him. I feel him grow to full length against me and the feeling is enough for me to squeeze my legs together, desperate for some pressure down there.
"Where the fuck are your shorts?" He says in a deep and sleepy voice.
I giggle as he breathes heavily into my neck before whispering again.
"What the hell am I gonna do with you, baby?"
"Touch me?"
"I'm already touching you, y/n. My fucking dick is basically between your ass cheeks."
"Not yet.. my panties are in the way." I slip my panties off my legs smoothly and discard them on the floor.
"Y/n." He warns but before he can tell me no, I'm bare from the waist down and pressing my ass back against him.
"Trying to give this old man a heart attack?" He chuckles deeply.
"I can try harder than that if you want me to." I tease.
"Fuck, baby. Go to sleep before I do something we'll both regret."
"Like what?"
"...Like pound that pussy so fucking good you'll never think about another man's cock but mine."
"If you love me, wouldn't you want to be the one to give that to me for the first time? Wouldn't you rather it be you than some asshole who doesn't care about me."
He doesn't answer, so I keep pressing him. I place my hand back on top of his resting against my stomach and slowly slide it lower towards my aching center.
"Don't start something you can't finish, darlin'."
"Oh, I'm very determined to finish." I spread my legs apart slightly to guide his hand over my wet center. His middle finger easily slides between my slippery folds and we both moan at the feeling.
"Goddamn. Fucking dripping for daddy. He growls in my ear before leaning up a little and pressing his lips to my neck from behind. I move my hand from his, letting him take control - finally.
His finger moves back and forth between my wet slit, gliding over my clit every few seconds and making me moan each time. His other hand slips under me and up to my neck, gently squeezing my throat.
"This what you wanted, baby?" He breathes in my ear and chills spread over every inch of my skin.
I nod quickly as I feel my orgasm build from just his light touch. He hasn't even put a finger in me and I'm already on the verge of tears.
As soon as his finger rubs tiny circles over my clit, I lose it.. moaning out for him.
"Thaaat's it, cum for daddy, babygirl."
"Negan!" I scream out as his hand goes from my neck to my mouth, muffling the sound.
"Don't need the dead hearing us, doll."
He kisses my neck once I've soaked his fingers and then brings them to his mouth.
"Mmm, fuck, this pussy tastes so good I might have to eat it everyday."
I turn around in his arms to face him. My hand goes up to hold his face and my fingers play with his gray hair. He kisses my forehead before meeting my gaze.
"This is so wrong, baby." He strokes my cheek gently.
"Can't be wrong if it feels this good."
He tilts my chin up to press his lips against mine. It's so much better than I ever imagined. He knows exactly what he's doing, and even though I've never kissed anyone, he takes the lead and I'm thankful for it. I moan into his mouth when he deepens the kiss, his hand gripping the back of my neck now. The feeling of is tongue in my mouth makes me clench my legs again, and I think he notices because his hand on my neck travels lower until it reaches the back of my thigh. He lifts my leg over his and his hand slides to my ass, squeezing lightly before his long fingers tease my entrance from behind.
His dick is pressed into me painfully and I can't wait any longer. I need to touch him. Feel him inside me.
I reach my hand inside his boxers and pull out his big, hard cock. I try looking at it under the covers between us.
"You've never seen a dick before, doll?"
I shake my head no and admire him. It's so perfect.
He closes his eyes as I stroke it. "Fuck. So innocent, baby."
He kisses my neck while I pull on him even more. "You sure you want this, baby?"
I nod. "Yes, please. I've been wanting this for so long, Negan."
He lines himself up at my opening, my leg still draped over his so that he's in between my legs.
"Once we do this, you're mine darlin'."
"I'm already yours."
That's all he needs to hear to finally push the tip past my opening. I've never had anything inside of me other than a finger, and the feeling of his thick head pushing through me and stretching my walls has my mouth falling open.
"Tell me to stop, baby."
"No, keep going. Please." I beg.
He slides deeper and deeper until he's buried inside me completely. He stays still, letting me adjust. and kisses me through the pain. A pain that feels so good. I kiss him back hard, scratching his back while grinding my waist pathetically against him repeatedly. I moan in his ear and give him the go ahead to start moving. He fucks me deep and slow at first, letting me get used to him.
"So fucking tight baby."
He growls in my ear and vibration of his deep voice sends chills through me again until my pussy flutters around him.
"Holy fuck, doll. Do that again."
I squeeze my cunt around him again and he lets out the hottest moan I've ever heard. Not that I've heard a man moan before, but I just know that his are the hottest.
"I won't last if you keep doing that, baby." He warns and the thought of him shooting his load inside me has my head spinning.
After a few more thrusts that have my eyes rolling to the back of my head, I feel myself reaching my orgasm again and hold him against me so I can grind against him and ride it out.
"Negan, Negan, oh my god.” I breathe out as I push myself so hard against him that my clit rubs against his pubic bone creating the friction I need to send me over the edge.
"Goddamn." He thrusts into me faster and harder. "Gonna make me fucking cum already, baby." He tries to pull out but you tighten your leg around him so he can't pull away.
"Cum in me, Negan. Please." I cry desperately. "I love you. I want all of you."
He kisses me hard before his hips come to a halt. He practically yells out when he shoots his load deep inside me. "Ah, fuck! Babyyy."
The sound of Negan cumming is even hotter than his moaning from earlier - I didn't think it could get any better but holy shit. We're both a tangled, sweaty mess while our hearts beat out of our chest.
We eventually fall asleep with our lips still touching and his softening dick still inside me.
I don't even worry about the possibility of what could happen in the future.. I know I'm safe with Negan.. Here in our little cabin. He gently strokes my hair as we drift back off to sleep.
BOOM. The thunder crashes outside again, but this time I don't even flinch.
"You're not scared of thunder, are you, doll?"
I smile against his chest. "...No."
The End.
Brb, going to take an ice bath.
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