#so glad i finished this in time for the release date i started this in september!!!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sunboki · 13 days

Text

— BRIGHTER PLACES. a Lee Felix fiction

Chef! Lee Felix x gn. reader

TROPE. cooking class au, childhood friends to lovers, reader is burnt out and slightly depressed, coincidences, fluff, angst

WARNINGS. mentions of depression/depressive episodes, mentions of unrequited love, burn out, reader is used by her boss, felix is the biggest sweetheart to exist

AUG'S NOTES. was intended to be posted much earlier than this but i’m still glad that, with life being so busy, i managed to finish it! this piece is only the start of many emotional pieces over the summer so stay tuned please! hopefully you enjoy 🫶🏼

SYNOPSIS. Thrown asunder beneath crushing assignments, work, and the fleeting hope your “young and free” twenties experience may someday happen, you had yet to realize said experience was right around the corner. Whisked into a mixture of unearthed feelings and past occurrences, presented with a cherry on top by renowned Chef Lee Felix.

or alternatively :

Eventually, the sun will shine again.

Out of any gift you’ve received, you thought the treehouse in your backyard was the most memorable. It seemed like, in this vast universe, everything was right.

Then it wasn’t, then it was. Again and again. A repetitive cycle.

However, your overcast days did have an expiration date, and sunshine would eventually show itself again.

You just weren’t aware yet.

At seven years old, you would spend hours daydreaming, inviting friends, taking naps, and reading in your treehouse. Oftentimes, during the long days of summer, you’d eat lunch up there; lost in this secluded world only you knew about.

When you’re younger, every little thing appears peach-tinted.

The warm fire of a candle on a nightstand, setting dull objects ablaze with its brightness. Shadow puppets, dance parties. So ordinary yet exceptional all the same. Easy to configure from a developing mind as something excellent, fantastical.

Your twenties don’t envelop a hazy glow. Mind now hardened, treehouse still lingering (more like rotting) in the backyard of your parents house, things are more serious, less inviting.

Who knew adulthood would be this lonesome.

Walking from a bar, you fail to appreciate the hum of music from a buzzed radio, the wafting smell of Italian food hidden somewhere in the midst of neon signs and outdoor eateries.

Instead, priorities had lodged themselves indefinitely far into your soul, drowning out the voice telling you you’re you, not the expectations you’re held to.

Further and further did you drift into that intoxicating headspace, until someone—or, in your case, something—had to pull you out.

That something being a cooking—well, baking class. This weekend, an hour and a half. Menu: The Ideal Donuts.

“Think of it as a release,” Sana had told you, this wide, excited smile etching the skin of her face.

Immediately, you wanted to hand it back to her, tell the eccentric best friend of yours to spend such an occasion on herself instead.

Yet, you knew better than to try negotiating with Sana, the girl who has been present through your ugliest moments, who you’ve cried to more times than able to count.

Your intention wasn’t an attempt to make your life as miserable as possible. In fact, each day you strived for a resource, an indication things would grow better, as better as it seemed to be for everyone else.

Though you can only stretch a rubber band so far, and once it reaches its farthest extent, it snaps.

And the recoil stings.

“Okay, thank you.” You respond after a beat of silence, lips pulled into a tight line, investigating the information written on the card.

She pats your shoulder, a sweet smile worn upon pink lipstick.

Lee’s Baking Class.

Lee. The name sounds familiar.

Awkward. Everybody has their awkward moments, but you’re certain this one takes the cake.

The entirety of the class had fallen still, engulfed in a silence you can feel gathering in your chest, sending nausea building like bile in your throat.

His brown eyes merely blink, ignorant to your inner turmoil.

Lee Felix’s brown eyes, shining like muddy globes, seem to encapsulate every ounce of affection. Affection you once had for him, affection you refuse to unearth if it costs your life.

Perhaps that's the stem of the awkwardness—harbored feelings.

How awful.

Just your luck.

“Y/N?”

It even sounds worse falling from his lips. Sweet, just like he is, Felix is.

Felix has always been sweet, always inviting. Seems you accepted without realizing you were never invited to the party.

Staring like a deer caught in headlights, it takes the man clearing his throat for you to acknowledge your position.

“You can uh, find a seat if you’d like?”

‘You can shoot me if you’d like’ you think, very much grateful mind readers don’t exist.

Nodding profusely and scurrying to the nearest table out of the four aligned throughout the room, you find yourself paired with three elderly ladies who quarrel in rabid conversation about baking powder—though it doesn’t bother you, the frenzied chatter leaves leeway to think.

As memorable as the treehouse was, it was also memorable for.. Other reasons as well. One reason in particular being that it wasn’t always just you reading and daydreaming up there, but Lee Felix too.

Since primary school the two of you had been conjoined at the hip. Between friendly rivalries and the fact he was your neighbor, there wasn’t a two day period you weren’t together.

And with that, came a crush.

But it was different with Felix, different because just as you’d been conjoined to the hip as friends, this time, you were still conjoined, but he was your crush.

And it’s a whole lot easier playing off a crush when you aren’t with them 24/7.

Before you knew it, you had fallen head over heels in love. To a degree you realized you can’t, can’t do what you’ve always done, can’t pretend your feelings are nonexistent any longer.

So you fled.

The moment high school began, you located the furthest place available and begged your parents to let you attend. It wasn’t that you hated Felix, more than anything you hated yourself for falling in love–not that it could be helped.

No matter how illogical you deemed it, your heart would prove stronger. Maybe that was your epitome.

Your number one priority had been avoiding him thus far, and you thought you were doing a pretty decent job at it, using the excuse that high school offered better opportunities to mask your internal guilt, and staying on that side of the city when you graduated.

Nonetheless, it seems the effort was in vain, especially now that you’re facing him again.

No. You refuse to dwell on the past, not when you’ve made it this far.

In front of you sits all the necessary utensils. Measuring cups and spoons, coordinating bowls, and the ingredients included as well.

Thank goodness for that, you were scared you’d mess up and Felix would have to step in. Plus, the rules of this game came easy. Participate without contact and leave with a sweet treat in hand.

Except, you’re quick to understand those rules of the game may only apply in your case by the gaze boring into your back.

Great.

“I didn’t anticipate a young lady being so aggressive,” A voice to your right piques, surveying the furious manner in which you’re cracking an egg into the bowl.

Delivering a small smile and claiming you’re simply absorbed in your work, collective laughter sounds from the older women in response.

Taking a thirty minute break while the dough chills, you welcome conversation with anybody and everybody, attempting to evade the blond’s attempt at reaching out.

Way to be a jerk, Y/N.

But, in the end, avoidance is the right course of action.

You can’t afford love, you’re too broke already as a student.

During the times he isn’t circulating, you spare periodic glances, marveling at those charming features of his, still the same as when you were younger but slightly more mature, sharper. Effortlessly kissable raspberry-tinged lips purse when he explains things, helping the participants knead dough with ring-clad fingers. That one’s new: rings.

The third time, you were caught, panickedly looking away as if an accident.

“Y/N I–”

Speeding past while pretending to be occupied with checking the refrigerator holding your table’s donuts, his words become choked watching as you flee in the other direction, hand returning to his side where it extended to you.

You manage to survive the last few minutes unscathed, awaiting the sugary goodness lying just below your fingertips after hastily nodding to Felix in thanks and following the remainder of the class outside.

Success.

Or, whilst fetching your keys and finding where you had parked your car, so you thought.

Steam billows from your car's hood, refusing to even turn on while individuals alike grant you pitying simpers and continue on their exit.

Spoke too soon.

Even worse, your instructor, the man you thought you could run from after all, happens to walk out at that moment, witnessing your real-time destruction.

Not a success.

This was utter failure at the highest degree.

“So.. How’ve you been?”

“Fine.”

“How’s college?”

“Fine. ..And you?’

How you ended up in Lee Felix’s passenger seat is beyond you.

Well, not really. You just hate admitting you took the ride home he offered after your car broke down in the parking lot. In your defense, according to him, he already had to drop by the grocery store nearby.

It’s like an interrogation, your replies quick and unenthusiastic, his unwavering in enthusiasm, unyielding to the coldness you’re giving him.

Like you said, it wasn’t your intention hurting his feelings, nor being spiteful or brash. It was your coping mechanism.

This is how you got over him, or, how you’d like to say you got over him.

“Pretty busy, but I’m managing. How about you? I couldn’t get in contact, but I’m sure you got tons of offers, yeah?”

Seeing his face again didn’t help with the “getting over” part.

..Or the guilt at the “no contact” part either.

“Easy for you to say, you’re the successful one who got scouted by a culinary arts school.” The remark coming out spiteful, you scorn yourself.

That’s another thing. Lee Felix is totally out of your league.

He’ll always be number one, and you’ll always be second place. And not in an inferiority complex way, but in an honest way.

Felix chased his dreams to the end of the earth and got what he deserved out of it, and you thought you were doing the same, only to realize you were chasing him instead and leaving your own aspirations behind.

But that’s on you, not him, and you’ll likely spend the rest of your life wondering how you became so enamored in the first place.

Of course he wears that tear-worthy frown, periodically directing his attention to you while driving, face filled with overflowing concern.

How could anybody not fall in love with him?

“Y/N, you know that’s not true. I may have been scouted, but that doesn’t make me any better than anyone else. We’ve all worked hard to get where we are now, you included.”

Curse how weak you are for him. Why should he reassure you? You’re the prick that left him after countless years together, why is he consoling you?

Easy. He’s Felix.

Before anything else, he’s loving. Felix is the embodiment of love in an individual. He’s self-sacrificing (a trait you swear Chan gave to him), caring, and the most unbearably adorable mother-hen.

And you’re not even close to getting over him.

Street names pass in a blur, leaving a lengthy silence to consume the drive. You distract yourself with a flickering traffic light in need of fixing, watching the man’s finger tap against the wheel to a song on the radio in your peripheral before he speaks again.

“..Do you still talk to Chris?”

His voice, a pleasing baritone now that he speaks slowly, surprises you for a moment.

“Yep.”

Even then you refuse to turn toward him, coming to a halt at a stop sign and simultaneously dreading the manner in which he dips his head lower.

“Hey.. Are you okay?”

You feel like throwing up.

“During the class you–”

“My stop is here.”

The words come out before you can comprehend them, too worried about distancing yourself to care that this is in fact not your stop and a random street instead.

Though hesitantly, he pulls the vehicle to the side.

“But there’s no houses nearby–”

“No, this is perfect,” You pitch, quickly unbuckling and opening up the door. “Thank you, Felix.”

Oh how you wish you never said that, wish you never made eye contact.

He makes you want to scream and cry and dig up all those stupid feeling’s you’d buried in the ground.

Pulling your clothing closer to your body as the evening cools, you grace him a ghost of a smile, shutting the car door and hurrying down the sidewalk while feebly attempting to locate how far your place would be from here.

Yet, he doesn’t drive past you.

Evidently unconvinced but failing to say it aloud, you fight off the warmth heating your face as his car rolls right beside you, following your hasty footsteps while walking.

“Are you sure this is your stop? It’s getting cold!” He shouts, leaning over from his seat to regard you.

This is it. When you had sworn your embarrassment couldn't get any more pathetic.

“I.. I’m fine! Just go!” You shout back, arms waving haphazardly like an embarrassed middle schooler until he finally (and begrudgingly) steers ahead of you, car disappearing in the distance.

At least that’s over.

And yet, it feels like it’s just the beginning. You simply can’t explain why.

However, your main focus remains upon getting to safety. Safety being home.

The word has never sounded this pleasing before now.

So after thirty minutes running in circles to find your complex, you’re granted that much wanted safety, snuggled up in your cushions and turning on a show with evident delight in the mismatched pair of pajama pants and a hole-scattered top hanging off your shoulder.

No more Felix thinking, it’s time to relax.

What a joy.

Well, before your bottomless Pringle’s can abruptly spawns a bottom, hand frantically scurrying in search for more to no avail.

This is the peak of your show! How could someone possibly imagine viewing the climax without coordinating snacks?

And just when you thought you had ultimately settled, you’re thrown into a torrential debate, one that, after much contemplation (and pacing) across the cold tile of your kitchen, sends you huffing and puffing to the nearest convenience store.

Slipping past the sliding doors toward the designated aisle, you had yet to realize who else was roaming around the store.

A peculiar blond being that someone else.

It’s when you turn the corner to check out that you practically ram into each other, fear striking every fiber of your being, his eyes equally wide, but more puzzled than terrified—unlike you.

“Besides, I need to run to the grocery store afterward.”

Crap.

Granted, the probability he lived nearby was likely.

He's not required to stay a 300 meter radius from you anyway, so getting anxious about this shouldn’t be an issue. You’ll simply (hopefully not) say hi and be on your way.

Except, like most endeavors in your life so far, it is an issue.

Because one, you’ve positively blasted your chances of avoidance after the entire car experience (which, frankly, you genuinely debate death because of) and two, he’s.. apparently following you.

Wait, he’s following you?

He, as in: Lee Felix, who ultimately fails at being nonchalant. Walking a few paces behind you, eyes quite obviously trained on your figure.

After your frantic rush past him while darting through self-checkout, the footsteps behind you do little to quell your heart’s rapid pace, only worsening with each passing second.

You aimlessly ignore the sweat oiling your palms, pretending to be occupied with reading a label on your drink, hoping he’ll eventually look away.

He doesn’t.

Instead, he stays right on your tail, enough that while you break into a run through your door, he follows, jarring a foot in the door just as you begin slamming it shut.

Stalker, much?

Wielding the nearest weapon available in a panic, you’re frantic, whacking the unfortunate Pringle’s container with all your might toward the man.

“How.. How are you that fast– Ow! Ow ow- Wait- Y/N-”

Cowering down and covering his head with his arms while you furiously batter the man, it isn’t till a few specific words catch your attention that you stop.

“Your—“ Whack. “Car—“ Whack. “Was finished in the shop!”

Your what?

Hesitantly lowering his arms, Felix wears a sheepish smile, regarding your evidently frazzled, very much frantic appearance.

“For twenty minutes I’ve been trying to tell you.. your car is ready.. in the shop,” He breathes, doubling over with exhaustion.

Meanwhile, you’re still recovering from your own exhaustion. An exhaustion that urged the realization you just beat up your lifelong love interest with a box of Pringles.. who is now in your house.

Lee Felix. In your house.

What a joy.

“....I’m sorry about your head.”

“No, I shouldn’t have intruded like that.”

You cover your face with your hands, wishing nothing more than to melt into a puddle.

“Are you-” He tips his head down, that kindly confused expression of his no help to your pounding heart. “Are you alright?”

Through your wallowing, your ears burn, voice muffled whilst practically drowning in misery.

“Give me a minute, I’m so embarrassed right now.”

It doesn’t help that he laughs afterward. A low, vocal laugh that rumbles in his throat and does little for your mental health.

Placing the discarded can back on a nearby countertop, you jolt when his fingers wrap around your wrists, gently ushering your hands from your face.

“But I was serious about what I said. Y/N, are you okay?”

Oh how tender he refers to you. Careful, quiet. As if too high of a pitch and his voice will shatter the air. You don’t mind.

Because in all honesty, you haven’t been okay. Nothing has been okay. It feels like you’re working, but what for? You’ve lost the sense of purpose from when you graduated, slowly but surely watched your motivation diminish right before your eyes.

And you couldn’t do anything about it.

Chasing your tail in circles, round and around and around again has led you right to what you tried to run from in the first place.

Him; the truth.

And yet, unlike earlier today, you can’t bring yourself to push him away, to ask him to leave. You savor his touch, even if it only lingers on your wrists.

Save me, your skin cries against his grip.

Luckily, Felix joins you in your wavelength, giving you permission to indulge in the abyss of his eyes, fall into the warmth and comfort the past brought in the safety of his arms.

“Felix?” You verbalize, fragmented bits and pieces of life hidden within the words, muffled against the skin of his neck.

You missed Felix, but you’re starting to think you missed his hugs more.

“Yes?”

“I missed you.”

“Really? How much?”

You want to punch his gut, but you can’t will yourself to move.

“Too much.”

He chuckles, carefully pulling away.

“I have to head out, ‘got work early tomorrow. I can drop you off at the dealership when you’re free?”

Yes. This time, you can say yes.

Your feelings will never change from how they always were, especially when it comes to Felix. That’s something you have to accept.

Perhaps tomorrow you’ll get to see him again.

Or perhaps you’ll wake up in your bed in a few seconds and all of this will be a dream.

When he turns his back, you pinch yourself to make sure.

All real.

“Thanks, that’d be great.”

Right before he closes your door, you call out to him again.

“And Felix?”

“Mhm?”

“..Call me when you’re done with work. I’ll pick up this time so… tell me all about those seven years apart.”

At this, he nods—and it’s sort of bittersweet seeing him leave, because this time you know you’ll see him again.

And, though you try, your attempt at sleeping proves useless—caught up in your head after quickly settling in bed, deciding to save everything else for another day.

The ceiling serves as your main muse, eyes unblinking whilst staring upward.

What is Felix doing right now? Your attention flits, scowling to yourself at how much you sound like a clingy girlfriend.

Could you blame yourself though? You’re like a child waiting for Christmas presents. Except, this Christmas you’re unwrapping years upon years of time apart.

Fortunately, after a multitude of hours awake, sleep beckons. And as if a split second later, with the morning sun lighting up your room and stirring you awake do you receive a call.

You planned to ignore and roll over, but it’s a specific someone on your mind that urges you to fetch the device.

“Hello?”

“Hey, what’re you up to?”

“Getting away from you,” You groan, pretending not to hear Chris’s chiding that it isn’t healthy to sleep till noon.

And although you were gonna use last night’s experience as an excuse, you decided against it, hoping sooner or later he’d hang up without any more questions.

“Wait.”

Your silence serves as a sign to continue.

“If he’s sleeping next to you right now—”

“No! No Chris what- where did you hear— what?”

Unable to process how he knew about Felix or if he was talking about Felix in the first place, you leave it to the audibly disheveled man to explain himself.

“Look, I can explain. Sana told me she saw Felix go into your house last night, what was that about?”

Curse how Sana lives so close by.

“Well, for the record, Dad, he didn’t sleep over. We just uh, talked, like adults do.”

Chris exhales a baffled guffaw.

“Like adults do? Never thought I’d hear that from you.”

“I’m full of surprises, what can I say.”

An additional silence ensues, awkwardly tapping your finger on the mattress.

“We um.. we were catching up.”

The man on the other side of the line grins. You can practically see it through the phone.

“..When you said that, you sounded really happy just now.”

“Huh?”

“When you talked about Felix, you sounded really happy. That’s good.”

You study the ceiling a second time, feeling a small smile and tug at your lips.

“He’s good to keep around y’know.”

Rolling your eyes and adjusting your position to face the window, you stretch your arms over your head.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

You hear the ignition of his car in the distance.

“Whatever you want it to mean,” He chuckles. “I’m glad you got to see him though, I better contact him again now that you mention it, ‘need the Aussies to get together. Call you later?”

“Sure, bye Chris.”

Hanging up and collapsing onto your pillow, you yawn dramatically, gradually rising to your feet to open the blinds.

Then does it register to you this is the most enthusiastic you’ve ever been in a while—especially talking to a Chris—and not intentionally either.

All of which comes down a single name, the one you were reminded to keep around.

Lee Felix.

Picking up your phone, you make another call.

You

I’m on the way

Felix

(Felix liked your message)

I’ll be there as fast as I can!! Sorry, ran out of flour last night 😔

You

It’s all good, what’re you baking?

Felix

Banana cake, want a slice?

You

Yes please!

Redirecting your attention back to the road, you’re careful not to miss the exit this time (as you’ve done endless times in the past).

Almost to the café you planned to eat at with Felix, your phone lights up once more.

Yet, you forgot to check the number—your good mood diminishing instantly.

“Hey Fel—“

“Y/N, I need you in the office.”

Considering this is your boss you’re talking to, you pull into the parking lot, able to see Felix through the window—dressed to an unbearably handsome degree.

“But today is my day off, I don’t clock in on Saturday’s,” Relaying the statement, your eyes narrow at the screen.

“Well you’re going to have to. The office knows how capable you are. we need somebody like you here—we can count on you Y/N.”

You’ve been counting on me, for everything.

That familiar weight settles into your chest, more and more pressure building at a nefarious level. You feel sick to your stomach, wanting nothing more than to drop the call and walk inside into work-free air.

However, you can’t. This job holds you down (in multiple ways), it’s stable, and provides good income—you can’t afford to drop it.

But what are you supposed to say to Felix?

Everything feels too overwhelming at the moment, your lungs feel like exploding, using all your willpower to say something.

“..Okay. I’ll be there soon.”

And you hang up, gripping the steering wheel like a vice.

It’s always like this. The moment you have a good thing, not even a day later everything falls apart.

Never lasts.

You

Sorry, I can’t make it, work called.

Felix

But haven’t you worked a lot this week? Why not take today off?

You

Can’t, see you another time

How selfish, you tell yourself, throwing your phone as far from you as possible.

The moment you get the chance to see him again, he slips out of your fingertips. Or in this case, you let him slip away.

Watching him glance around, delicious slice of banana cake kept in a cute tin in front of him feels heart-wrenching. And you quite literally are the worst person in the world at this very moment.

Each key your fingers press adds to the exhaustion in your bones, growing greater each inhale and exhale your take, eyes scouring the computer screen.

Being in the office is stifling. You’re trapped in a box, a box that shrinks closer and closer every second, caging you in without hopes of escaping.

This is your prison, the jail cell you didn’t realize you’d been stuck in till it was too late.

An entire library of documents pile at the foot of your desk, your head aching incessantly. So once the hour hand strikes 10pm, you trudge out the door, more than happy to be in the safety of your car.

Then you slip, and it all comes crashing down.

As if he read your mind, the one person you’ve been longing for takes over your screen, and your index shakes pressing the green button.

“..Felix.”

The words tumble out, tiny candies filling an already full jar. Too much that the lid can’t even fit on.

“Stay where you are, I’m driving to you right now.”

His response earns a stifled sob, your fist bunching the fabric of your clothing, feebly attempting to calm the incessant beating—seeming to render your lungs with meager air.

No other sentence is spoken even with him on the other line, not until headlights pour over the expanse of your dash—until Felix nearly rips your car door off its hinges to reach you in the driver’s seat.

One hand on your head, the other on your back, he pulls you into a bone-crushing hug, your second one in three days.

It’s all you need. All you’ve ever needed, actually.��

Another heartbeat with yours, your calm before the storm that kept the calm, to know you aren’t alone in your suffering, that you can suffer together.

Ah, you can breathe.

“All these years and you’re still an awful liar.”

You simply squeeze him tighter, the blond’s laughter shaking either of you.

Guess a single taste can lead to addiction.

“I hate crying in front of people,” You sniffle, cringing back after seeing his shirt’s tear-stained fabric.

“Lucky for you,” Felix tuts, gathering your face in his hands, smiling. “I’m not people, just Felix.”

You roll your eyes, swollen condition of your eyes and cheeks not helping the irritable portrayal.

“I’m sorry, Lix, I’m so sorry. I wanted to see you so bad but work called and they keep piling—“

“Shush.”

He presses a finger against your lips.

“For one second, don’t think about work,” He exhales, face pursed in focus, fingers smoothing the crease lines of your brows.

“I know you’ve been overworking yourself. I’m not your best friend for no reason,” Felix sheepishly smiles, hand slipping from by your forehead down to your cheek, stroking the skin there softly.

Again and again, he watches you break.

Then, he picks you up all over again.

“Can you.. can you understand my frustration? It feels like everyone loves their jobs, but in the end, no matter what I do, I’m stuck in this constant cycle of hell. I can’t escape Felix, I can’t escape.”

Your voice dons into that of panic, into an hysterical fit of tears and rapid breathes, only able to focus back on the man before you after he shouts your name for the fourth time.

“Nuh-uh, no crying. The world isn’t ending, so no tears, hm?” Thumbs smoothing the flush of your under-eyes, he pulls you to his chest, hand gently rubbing your back while another cards through your hair.

“..Are you my mom or something?” You croak irritably.

Felix shakes with another bout of laughter.

“No.”

He slightly pushes you back where you can see his face, brows creasing in a focused, serious manner.

“I’m Felix, your best friend, remember? And I don’t want my friend to cry, she has too pretty of a face for that.”

“But what if her world’s ending?”

“I won’t let that happen.”

And the building blocks are stacked once more, barely able to hear his voice amidst your heart, forging itself free of its cage, your ribs.

“Y/N, look at me angel.”

Of course you follow, you know you always will.

“You aren’t required to cater to everybody, you can’t cater to everybody, no matter how hard you try. You’re human, and humans need to do human things, they need to live, experience exciting experiences. That’s how you make the little time we have here worthwhile.”

He tips your chin up, placing a kiss to your forehead.

“So don’t cage yourself up, please. And,” His voice gets cut off, eyes flickering from your eyes to your lips.

Debating, thinking.

“Let me help you fall in love with life again.”

As if I’m not already in love with you.

If only you knew the same thing occurred in his head as well.

Felix drove you home, and for a second, over the span of a week, it seemed as if everything was finally back to normal.

Then you received a call from such a man, on your beloved Sunday afternoon, asking a rather whimsical sort of question you never anticipated.

No, you exaggerated.

“Are you free tonight?”

Oh. Oh.

Staring at the assortment of DVD’s scattered around on your comforter, you act as if you’re oh so busy instead of planning to rot watching Dead Poet’s Society for the thousandth time.

“Uhhh think so, why?”

Felix clears his throat.

“Well, my baking place wants you— no, I want you, no, wait—“

Your heart speeds up at the sudden confession, bursting into laughter as he sputters over his words like a child.

“Will you.. meet me at the bake shop? If you can’t it’s fine I mean I’m sure you’re preoccupied-“

“No!” You shout, not intending to be so loud, shrinking in on yourself. “I mean, no, I’ll be there. Give me ten minutes.”

Well, ten minutes might’ve been a stretch considering how animalistically you lunge at your hamper, sorting through clothing despite being aware Felix has likely seen every single one of your outfits a million times before

Doesn’t help this is pretty much an unofficial date. Or, hopefully those were his intentions.

Regardless, you don’t plan on wasting a chance like this again.

Standing on the sidewalk, hands situated in the pockets of a midnight black jean jacket paired with coordinating slacks is Felix, his face breaking into a smile upon seeing you.

Catching up with the man, you walk by his side, listening to him talk about meeting up with Chris days prior, about business.

It’s comforting, this small talk. And for a second, you swear you never left at all.

“And then I told him Vegemite was obviously the better choice but he…”

Words halting, you look to where his attention had been stolen, finding an old woman lingering outside the shop the two of you planned to enter. She wasn’t one of the ladies you’d seen before in your group.

Cautiously approaching the woman, it takes multiple clears of his throat for Felix to grasp her attention.

“Excuse me Miss?” He offers, allowing the woman to grab his hands with her wrinkled ones, eyes squinted to assess his face. “Would you like some help? I’m the owner of this shop.”

Slowly, a small smile stretches her face upward, wrinkles forming around her mouth like the petals of a flower.

“Why.. Why yes, young man. I’m in need of more brown sugar.”

Felix perks up at the request, and you follow them inside with your own smile, cherishing his warmth, his gentleness.

Leaning against the unmanned reception, you find the longer you stare at him describing each ingredient to the old woman, the greater that feeling in your stomach grows, eyes becoming watery.

Felix, in his loving, patient glory, is the sun.

He casts his rays over your garden, blooming once wilted flowers.

Forever ago, you believed the two of you sat on entirely opposite hemispheres. He received the day, and you, in your unchanging seasons, eternally remained shrouded in night.

Yet, you forgot the earth tilted on an axis for a reason. And, with time, the sun would rise again.

Lamps briefly illuminating the woman’s exit while Felix helps her outside, you wait till he comes back in to speak, staring at the worried way he ensures she safely heads off through the window.

For a moment, it feels like you’re back in the treehouse, gazing at him as if he painted the stars in the sky.

You refuse to let your anxiety get the best of you, not when the one person whose presence you’ve been longing for comes back in your life.

“Felix,” You voice from across the table. He looks back to where you are.

“If I don’t say it now, I doubt I ever will but..I like you. I have liked you, for a really long time actually. More than friends I mean, I like you… more than just a friend.”

He sort of studied you for a moment, and your heart flies up to your throat, rethinking every instance leading to now.

“Took you that long to tell me?” He murmurs, and when you meet his gaze, you note the small grin on his lips, the way honey seems to swirl in the pools of his eyes.

“I’ve been waiting, y’know. For a really long time,” He finishes, donning that sheepish smile whilst walking toward you, an action that causes you to fall stock still.

Leaning forward slightly, his hands clutch your face, planting the lightest of kisses on your forehead, each of your cheeks, and then your nose, fondly admiring the flush of your skin in the dimly lit room.

“You’re missing something,” You whisper, peeking an eye open.

Felix cocks a bemused brow.

And what is that?”

Without words, you hesitantly tap your lips, and Felix wastes no time, ensuring you’re as comfortable as possible prior to savoring your taste on his tongue, remnants of sugar clinging to his bottom lip, transferring onto yours each time he tips his head.

You hop upon the countertop, beginning to apologize in case you messed up his workspace before being shushed again by his lips, hands frantically searching to hold his face, expression pinched, eyes squeezed shut.

It feels as if your heart may just burst, beating at a deafening rate in your ears.

There must’ve been something in the sugar.

“Lix?”

“Yes?”

“Do you want to come back over to my place?”

Instantly, his once smugly pleased face dissipates, a hot flush rising up his neck in its place.

“Y..Your place? I mean isn’t it a bit too early to—“

Without elaborating, you drag him off, silencing any of his nervous babbling along the way back to your car.

Nonetheless, it doesn’t take long for either of you to get comfortable.

“..Oh Lix.”

“I can’t- I can’t take it anymore Y/N..”

Sitting beside each other on your mattress, the both of you hold huge containers of popcorn, the newest rendition of “Alien” playing on screen. Felix is coddled in blankets, wincing as the creature gets closer to the girl’s face while you’re already gagging watching the miniature monster crawl out of the bigger one’s mouth.

“This is disgusting!!” He shrieks, hiding his face while you giggle, trying your hardest to watch the grotesque scene.

This is your third movie of the night, and even after years apart, you can still use even slightly thrilling movies to freak him out.

Still entertaining, too.

The longer you stare at him, the greater a fondness seeps into your face, into the lines of your smile, the irises of your eyes.

Months upon months you had been searching for your antidote, ignorant to the fact the antidote in question could be a person.

You hadn’t realized how low you’d gone until you had to be dragged back out again.

A hand reaching out, pulling you up when your legs were too weak to move. Kissing you when the words couldn’t come out of your mouth, holding your hand when you needed support.

Lee Felix, wrapped in your comforter now fast asleep, was your brighter place.

sunboki, may 2022 ©

223 notes · View notes

sssammich · 2 months

Text

fic: come what may pt 3

part 1 | part 2

if you wanna read on ao3

thanks x

---

Kara’s body sags into the lawn chair that she keeps on the rooftop of her apartment. There’s an area up there that she’s claimed for herself, right by the back corner just around the rooftop entrance. She’s glad for it, especially right now, while she stares out onto the other rooftops of her neighborhood with her powers blown for at least another couple of days.

She lets out a big pathetic sigh, puffing out her cheeks, when she recalls how she got into this predicament.

It had been a hectic day for Supergirl. A rogue missile headed straight for downtown National City coming at the heels of a drawn out fight with an invading alien group. She’d only had enough time and energy to redirect said missile, but not to release it and fly away in time. Shrapnel lacerated her suit and embedded itself into her flesh when she attempted her retreat while the fiery explosion singed the edges of her cape as she spun out of the blast radius. She was then propelled by the force of the explosion, nosediving at the precipice of consciousness into the cliff’s edge by the coast.

She winces at the memory and the proceeding aerial footage that Brainy showed her where she collided with the side of jagged rocks off the side of a cliff, taking a chunk of it out. The worst part was when she’d startled awake the next morning, frantically searching for the date and time, realizing with a sinking heart that she’d missed the night she told Lena she’d return to her balcony.

She hoped Lena would understand, yet when she had plugged her phone in, there were no messages from her. Kara frowned and tried not to let the silence between them affect her. But by the way she slouched back on the sunbed, she couldn’t quite shake off her disappointment.

Now that she’s off-duty for a few days while she recovers, she requests to work remotely to spend the time researching just so she can finish hiding in her apartment. Well, at least for now, she’s hiding on her rooftop. It’s become a kind of oasis for her. Not just today, but for a few months now while she accepted their new normal and tried to navigate this Earth. She didn’t think it would make a difference, but when she brought up two foldable lawn chairs and a tiny round table to make a little sitting area for herself, it somehow made her feel less alone.

These days, Kara will take whatever she can get.

Her head lolls to the side when she observes a few birds walking near her before perching themselves on the cement ledge nearby. One of the birds flew up before dropping down on the cement ledge gracefully.

“Show off,” she mutters to herself. “I can do that, too, you know.”

The birds continue on disregarding her comments and her muttering. She is then interrupted by a buzz of her phone in the plastic cup holder section of her foldable chair. She considers not answering, Alex probably pestering her to get some rest like she’s not already doing that. But the idea of getting yelled at just doesn’t interest her, not when she's already feeling herself at her lowest, so she decides to pluck her phone out of the cup holder.

Her back straightens and eyes widening in unabashed surprise when she glances down at the message displayed on her phone screen.

Lena: Are you home?

She sucks her lips between her teeth, her thumbs hovering above the glass. She moves her finger and presses the call button.

It rings just once when Lena picks up.

“Uh, hi,” Kara offers lamely, cringing at herself.

“Hi.”

“I’m—did you need something?”

There’s a pause on the other end of the line.

“Alex told me what happened. I…I thought to bring you some food since I heard you’re not well. But if you’re not at home or don’t want company, I can leave the bag by your door.”

“Uh…no! I mean—you didn't need to do that,” she starts, scrambling out of her chair and rushing to the rooftop door before jumping down, taking the stairs two at a time and almost colliding with the stairwell wall. “You’re—that’s very nice, Lena…”

When her apartment door comes to view, she freezes mid-step. Kara’s gaze drops down to the bottom landing of the third floor and finds Lena, still dressed in her work clothes and hair done up in a loose bun, holding a plastic bag in one hand and her phone by her ear in the other.

“You're at my door,” she comments, stating the obvious, hearing her voice echo through the open phone line between them.

Lena smiles, the motion slight and lopsided.

“It would appear so.”

Gingerly, she steps down one step at a time, her eyes never once leaving Lena. Long seconds pass between them until she arrives by her front door, a measly two feet away from her visitor.

Lena pulls the phone away from her ears with a smile before pocketing it. Kara mirrors her when she realizes she hadn’t hung up yet. Lena’s smile drops and her now empty hand reaches up but stops mid-air between them.

Oh, right.

“Looks a little gnarly, huh?” she jokes, an awkward grin on her face. Truth be told, she feels better than she looks. By tomorrow’s time, her injuries will disappear and fade, her face returning to its unblemished state. She remembers that very few people see her like this, and it’s with an ache in her chest she realizes that this is the first time that Lena has seen her in this state. “I’m fine. It doesn’t hurt.”

Lena slowly closes her hand into a fist and eventually drops it. She does her best not to feel disappointment at that.

“Um, you—you had food?”

It’s then that Lena lifts the bag she’s been holding, extending her arm out. “I got your favorites.”

She accepts the bag, their fingers grazing with each other until she grabs hold of the bag, welcoming the weight of the food that’s inside.

“Would you like to join me?”

The rooftop door opens to a fresh breeze and the waning sun.

She leads the two of them to her makeshift sitting area by the far end where a couple of birds have taken to loitering. They flap their wings and get away from the commotion of their presence and she sets the bag down by the table.

Her eyes are drawn to Lena crouching down slightly and brushing the back of her skirt so she can sit on the lawn chair properly, sinking down until her knees are higher than her hips.

Kara outwardly grimaces. “Sorry, I forgot that’s the saggy one. We can trade place—”

“I’m fine. I don’t mind.”

Kara watches her but silently nods and resumes taking out food from the bag and spreads them out on the table, filling every space on it. Unsure what to say or even how to speak to Lena, Kara then decides to take her time serving them their food. She passes a pair of paper-wrapped chopsticks to Lena who accepts it quietly before she peels her own, separating the wood with a snap.

She senses Lena’s eyes trained on her, but she doesn’t flick her gaze up not once, instead focusing on taking the plastic lids off and turning it into a makeshift plate. She then serves up a portion of lo mein and a few pieces of sesame chicken before putting three healthy pieces of golden brown potstickers to finish out the plate.

Kara finally looks up to Lena studying her. She offers a crooked smile and offers the lid-turned-plate towards the other woman who accepts it quietly, their fingers once again grazing against each other. She hurries and picks up the lid of the lo mein and serves herself her own plate, the portion smaller than what she normally eats when her powers are fully intact.

For the next few moments, they eat in silence, the soundtrack to their early evening but the crowing of the nearby birds and the sound of distant traffic down on the streets. Every now and again, her eyes cast up to watch Lena as she digs into her own plate. The silence between them settles comfortably, like before.

Before the distance between them, before her lies and betrayal, before Lena’s revenge. Before all the hurt she inflicted, they inflicted on each other. Before, before, before.

Except they can’t ever go back to that world, to that life.

As she catches sight of Lena chewing on a potsticker and eyes staring out onto the view from her rooftop, she thinks there are worse places to be and she’s fine exactly where she is.

“Thanks for the food,” she says, breaking the silence between them, her lid-plate completely empty. “I appreciate you coming by.”

“Well,” Lena starts, leaning back on the chair, sinking further, her legs crossed at the knee. She looks comfortable this way despite the sharpness of her work attire. “I was promised a ‘something’ and I’m here to collect.”

“I meant to come back.”

“You were busy.”

She chuckles at that. “A rogue missile can do that to you.”

Lena tilts her head, as if studying her, and Kara does her best not to squirm under her watchful gaze. Then, Lena silently leans forward and stands from her seat, wiping away any minuscule dust or crumbs from her lap. Just as quietly, Kara tilts her head as she follows Lena’s every move.

A gasp escapes her mouth, her brows jumping to her hairline when Lena extends a hand forward.

“Let’s dance, Kara.”

Her eyes drop to the offered hand in front of her. She looks back up again to an unreadable expression on Lena’s face. She gets on her feet, her legs slightly wobbly until she’s standing to her full height.

Careful in her movements, as if Lena might take her offered hand back, Kara clasps their hands together and steps forward just as Lena steps back.

“There’s no music,” she says. Lena simply quirks her brow before she reveals her phone in her other hand. Kara blinks, wonders how she could have missed that.

“There’s always music.”

Lena then presses play on her phone, the first few notes playing. Her brows crease together, her eyes quietly asking, but Lena just shrugs. They then get into position, Kara’s other hand on Lena’s waist just as Lena’s rests on her shoulder, her finger almost tracing the scabbing gash lines on the side of her face. Kara barely resists the shiver that runs down her spine.

“I was watching Notting Hill last night because my schedule cleared up.”

She cocks her head slightly as the two of them begin to sway. “Didn’t take you much for a romantic comedy kind of viewer.”

“In this world, I am.”

She nods. “I like it.”

The cool evening air breezes past them as they entangle themselves as they sway on beat to the song, their gazes stretching past each other’s heads.

“What’s it like, not having powers?”

She shrugs a little. “Like things are muffled, almost muted. I feel weighed down, like gravity’s working twice as hard to keep me down. It’s not unpleasant or anything, but it’s not a feeling I’m used to.”

Lena nods, almost to herself, as she seems to take the information in.

“I got worried when you never showed last night,” Lena says as she stares right up at her, her voice soft.

She shakes her head, though, and pulls Lena closer, wants the other woman to make sure she’s looking when she says, “I wanted to be there, but I was out cold, apparently. I woke up this morning and panicked when I found out I’d missed it. Then when you didn’t contact me, I just thought you were mad at me.”

“I thought you changed your mind.”

Kara tilts her head up to find the blues of the afternoon sky having been traded in for the oranges and pinks. “As part of our pact of starting over, I think we should really improve our communication skills.”

She then releases Lena so she can twirl her.

“You’re not a fan of us assuming the worst of a situation or each other and internalizing it as a moral failing of ourselves?” Lena teases, exhaling a breathy laugh.

“Lena, please,” she grumbles, a half-hearted attempt at suppressing her laugh. “Be serious.”

She spins Lena twice until they come back together again, their fronts now pressed to each other, their faces inches from one another.

Lena she turns her head until her chin rests on Kara’s shoulder. “We can stand to be better, I agree.”

They move gently and loosely on the rooftop, Elvis Costello’s crooning voice filling the space around them and the National City city skyline just off to the distance. Finally, the last notes of the song play until Lena separates their hands and stops the next song from playing on her phone. Kara watches on as Lena walks towards the ledge of the rooftop towards the city’s skyline.

It takes her a few drawn out moments to follow suit and stand beside Lena, her eyes trained on the twinkling lights of the city she saved just yesterday.

“Kara.”

She glances sideways, watching and waiting. Lena pivots her body so she’s facing Kara, green eyes bright and alive even in the blanketing darkness of the evening.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” she breathes out, her warm hand on Kara’s forearm where a large gash sits. “I’m glad you asked me to stay for dinner. I’m glad…you let me in.”

She places her own hand atop Lena’s. “Can I tell you that ‘something’ I promised?”

Lena gestures with a nod, curling long, elegant fingers around Kara’s arm, like she’s trying to anchor herself to Kara, or maybe it’s the other way around. She’s not sure, but she doesn’t care either way, just that they are.

“I want to rebuild our friendship first and foremost, and that’s what I’ll be focusing on. But I also…” she pauses, chewing on her bottom lip. When Lena looks on encouragingly, she takes a deep breath. “But I also hope that if you’re open to it, that it could someday lead to something…more.”

“Something…more,” Lena repeats.

“Yeah.”

“What are you really saying?”

Kara scratches her temple, adjusting her glasses on her face. “I’m saying that there are feelings that I’ve denied myself about you because I’d hurt you and then you’d hurt me. But they’ve never gone away, Lena. Not once. And if it’s alright with you, I don’t want them to.”

When Lena doesn’t say anything, Kara’s confidence wanes and her mouth goes rogue. “But if you don’t feel the same way, if you don’t or c-can’t love me as more than a friend, then that’s fine, too. I’d never—that’ll never stop me being your friend or wanting to protect you.”

“You love me?”

“Without question,” she says, pressing forward as she tightens her grip on Lena’s hand.

“What if you change your mind?”

Kara’s heart tries not to bruise at the fear and apprehension in Lena’s eyes.

“I won’t.”

“How do you know?”

“I don’t,” she says with a helpless shrug. “But I know you.”

Lena doesn’t say anything more, her eyes searching Kara’s face—for what, she’s not sure, but Kara won’t look away. Wordlessly, Lena twists her head to gaze out to the darkened horizon for a moment, and Kara prepares herself for the worst. She’s not prepared for the shine of tears in Lena’s eyes when she turns back to look at Kara. She thinks if she looked closely, she would find her reflection and the threat of her own tears.

“I thought we’d missed our chance. After everything, I just thought—”

It’s then she shakes her head, inches closer, her heart rapidly beating when she thinks about what Lena’s saying. “It’s still here, Lena. I’m here.”

Lena lunges forward and Kara receives her in her arms, winding them around Lena’s middle, tightening her grip when Lena buries herself in the crook of her neck. They rock side to side in place as they simply hold one another, the city’s night sounds of National City buzzing around them.

After a short while, they break apart, eyes searching for each other under the dim rooftop lights that Kara just now notices have turned on.

“Okay,” Lena finally says, her voice watery, but strong.

“Yeah?” Her heart sings and swoops when Lena bobs her head. “Okay, then. Um, do you wanna go downstairs and watch a movie or something?”

Kara doesn’t move or breathe or do anything but watch as Lena brings the back of her hand and gently caresses cheek. “I’d love to, but I should head back home.”

She resists the disappointment to wash over her and offers a genuine smile.

“Let me walk you down.”

They untangle from each other, Kara’s body practically vibrating as they clean up and march down the steps hand in hand. When they reach the front of her building, Kara isn’t surprised to find Lena’s driver already waiting.

“When’s your next dance lesson?” Lena asks when she turns to face Kara once again.

“Thursday at the Y. 7pm.”

“Mind if I tag along?”

Her face splits into a wide smile that she doesn’t bother hiding. “Never.”

“Goodnight, Kara,” Lena says, leaning forward and pressing a small, chaste kiss on her cheek before squeezing Kara’s hand and letting go. “See you Thursday.”

Her response is to carefully dip down and place a mirroring kiss on Lena’s cheek. When she draws back, it’s to the image of Lena’s face soft and gentle, smiling up at her.

The smile never disappears from her face as she watches Lena stride towards the backseat of her car, as she rolls the windows down and gives Kara a parting wave, as she rolls the window back up only after they’ve turned the corner.

The air around her swirls with hope, crackles with possibility, and she clings onto it all while she ascends the stairs two at a time to her apartment, humming the song of their earlier dance. This is just the beginning, a chance to make it count.

So that’s what she plans to do.

#samfic #supercorp #lena luthor #kara danvers #kara x lena #supercorp fanfic #this is the final part we are done we are free #good work team #goodnight also

182 notes · View notes

tbgblr2 · 10 months

Text

Giving birth the au natural way

This is a reworking of a roleplay I had recently with @allkindsofpreg

Hope you enjoy reading it as much as we enjoyed working on it :)

---

Our midwife was surprisingly agreeable. Which was a shock… first time, clueless parents being left to their own devices to bring forth a baby wasn’t exactly many couples idea of a good time, but for us, we were prepared and ready. We much preferred our own company as much as anyone else’s, and let’s be honest, we find we can be ourselves more when we don’t have a room of people watching us. So we booked the retreat our midwife recommended to us. 2 houses in an area of nothingness, one for us, one for her. We paid through the nose to book them for 2 weeks but we had to be sure so we booked 1 week either side of your due date. We’d spent a week here getting set up when early morning came on your due date accompanied by some mild, but noticeable cramping. A text to the midwife, and a reply saying she was on her way - but if we didn’t need her just let her know when the baby was born and she’d come and do the medical checks.

You swallowed a big gulp of fresh woodland air as you stood on the patio area, the weather thankfully warm enough to not need to wrap up. You were barefoot and wearing a light top and shorts set that you had been sleeping in - by rights should still be sleeping in - but the cramps were getting you excited - you’d waited 9 months for this moment.

You gathered up the hem of your top to rest on top of the impressive expanse of your stomach. The muscles there tightened again and, closing your eyes, leaning against the doorframe. The gentle breeze felt cool against your flushed skin. You pressed a hand to the spot you could feel our little one kicking out against.

“I know, it’s not comfortable for you either, is it?” Another kick in response confirmed it and you smiled. “Well it won’t be long now.” Hopefully, anyway.

You wandered back in the house to scour the kitchen for some light breakfast— you were going to need the energy later. You were just about to pour a glass of orange juice when you felt my arms slide around your pregnancy-expanded waist, my body moulding around your back. You leaned back into me and rested your head against my shoulder. “You should go back to bed,” you mumbled, but I made no move to let you go. “Might be a while before we get another chance.”

“I heard you correctly earlier, and I’ll be damned if you think I’m missing any of this” I say, kissing the back of your neck and sending a shiver down your spine. I release off you and fill the coffee machine and set it to brew “though I suspect I might need this” I say with a grin.

I walk to the door you were recently outside of and look out to the sunrise just starting to poke above the horizon.

“Looks like it’s going to be a beautiful day to watch a beautiful woman do something beautiful with our baby”

The smell of freshly brewed coffee brought with it a longing. Technically it was fine for you to have a cup, but the nerves were already starting to build and the whole point of coming out here was to keep everything calm and peaceful. Besides, the baby didn’t seem to like it and nauseous was the last thing you wanted to be right now. You just decided to stick with toast and juice.

By the time you had finished preparing your food, the coffee was finished also, so you poured some into a campfire mug and joined me on the patio.

“I’m glad we’re doing this here,” you said, handing over the cup and taking in the view with me. You placed down your plate, and hands now free, you placed them at your hips and arched backward, pulling your shoulder blades together and stretching your lower back. It made your belly stick out even more and caused your shirt to ride up about halfway, getting stuck there even when you straightened back up. I couldn’t help but chuckle. “What? You find this sexy?” you asked, rocking your hips and rolling your huge tummy around in a little mock seductive dance. “Enjoy it now, before it’s gone!”

I moved around in front of you, my hands clasping around the belly, warm to the touch. I can’t help but smile. “I’ll enjoy it as much as I can… then the next… then the next one after that” I punctuated each statement with a kiss. Suddenly I feel your belly tense and you betray the moment with a slight wince “was that a contraction?” I ask.

“Mmm,” you hummed in confirmation, leaning into my touch and letting out a slow breath, your hands finding purchase on my forearms. This one held on a bit longer, sharpening at its peak, and your grip tightened considerably— your anchor as the pain washed over you. Your stance widened, your knees bend as I supported you and coached you to sway in time with your breaths. Even when it passed you kept your hold on me, looking into the distance and laughing a little breathlessly.

“I guess they started last night,” you admitted, a little sheepishly. “But it was the same as I’d been feeling for weeks now and, I don’t know, I guess I thought labor would feel… different somehow. But they’re definitely closer together now. And stronger.” The aftershocks of that last cramp still twinged and tugged. “So I guess todays the day?”

“We can only hope” I say with a smile. My phone buzzes with a text, I pick it up and read it - it’s from the midwife. She’s texting to say she just arrived and she was going to get bedded down and for us to ring her in case she’s needed - she’d keep her phone on loud so it would wake her. I casually comment that she’s made good time but not really surprising considering the time of day it is.

We hold each other close looking out over the brightening morning.

“Want to go for a walk?” I enquire, “might help get things established? I’ll be nice and even help you get your shoes and socks on!”

Considering you hadn’t been able to reach your feet for some time now, you gladly accept my offer. Grabbing some stretchy leggings and a t-shirt from the dresser, your gaze lingers on the little stack of newborn onesies folded up on top - you give your tummy a little pat—it’s hard to believe that soon there’s going to be a whole new person in the world. You admit you’re going to miss this, the feeling of having someone growing inside me, but you suspect you won’t have to miss it for long. We want a big family.

We start out along the same path we’ve been walking every morning, but only barely make it past the tree line when another contraction hits. You try to walk through it at first, but of course I notice and suggest we take a rest and remind me that this is why we’re here—it’s not a race, we’re not trying to force anything, we’re just going to listen and respond and let it happen.

After an hour, your clothes are stuck moulded to your skin, your hips are aching, and we’re still only halfway through the loop. “This is a lot harder than it was yesterday,” you say, still slightly hunched and out of breath from the latest contraction.

I stop and rub your back, the feeling eliciting a groan of appreciation from you, I then say “come on let’s do the thing”

You smile knowing what I mean. You stretch out, straightening your back as I come in behind you. Reaching around and crossing my hands under your belly I pull up relieving the pressure on your back and hips immensely. Your sigh of relief was glorious. We stood there for a good minute just rocking side to side in the strange form of embrace until you reach down and grab at my hand. The next contraction was building, and I could feel everything in your belly between my fingers. You grunt as the feeling builds, gripping my forearm more and more. The feeling doesn’t last long, 30 seconds at most, but it had only been around 10 minutes since your last one - you were keeping track. They were definitely speeding up.

As your grip lessens on my arm signalling the end of the pain I lower your belly and gradually let go, accompanied by a ‘whump’ sound expelled from you as you took back over the weight.

Still behind you I wrap my arms in the gap between your breasts and the top of your belly hugging you close.

I whisper close to your ear, something about the early morning and complete quiet not wanting me to speak too loudly as I say “sorry baby, I had to… let it go”

Of course the last words were said in a song-song tone as you groaned - nothing to do with the contractions this time. I apologise with “so I started the dad jokes a little bit early.”

You feel a little roll and then a kick up somewhere near your rib cage. “See? Even the baby is protesting,” you whine, rubbing at the tender spot. Alright, maybe you’re a little cranky at having to bear the full weight of gravity again. But it gives you an idea. “Lake?” you suggest.

It’s another two contractions before we get to the clearing, but it’s so worth it. The lake is surrounded by mountains on one side, forest on the other, and the water is crystal clear and still quite cold. I give you a skeptical look, but you’re determined. “It’s warming up now that the sun’s up,” you reason. “Or maybe we’ll just have to huddle together for warmth,” you suggest with a waggle of your eyebrows, without hesitation you pull off your shirt and kick off the shoes you would not be able to put back on by yourself. The leggings are too clingy and stuck to bother trying to take off, so they’re all you’re wearing as you begin to wade into the fresh water.

You take a step in and all the air leaves my lungs in one whoosh. It. Is. Cold. But now here you are, topless, one foot in the water, back straining, and another contraction starting with no feasible form of relief in sight. Suddenly the pressure spikes and this baby feels so heavy pressing down inside you. You let out some noise of surprise or discomfort and I'm there in an instant.

I wade into the water throwing off my top and tossing it into the rough area where your pile of clothes are, my own trousers and shoes still on and soaked through.

“Babe!” you call, though I’m already there—a question, a plea.

I grab hold of your hand as you squeeze for all you’re worth, the pain of the contraction evident. You’re clearly having a difficult time as you let out a low pitched moan as your grip tightens and tightens against my hand. Suddenly you release, gasping a breath out.

“You OK?” I enquire. You nod, not able to speak. A few seconds later you manage “that was a rough one, hope there aren’t too many like that” with a weak smile.

I return the smile to you as your hands release mine and you rub them over my body. “My big strong hero diving into the water to save his damsel in distress”

I gulp, noticing the chilled water having an obvious effect on your nipples, they had already gotten big and dark with the onset of your milk coming in, and now they poked out almost as long as a finger to the first knuckle.

You follow my eyes and see where I have spotted.

“Nipple stimulation is good to bring on contractions you know” you purr at me.

I don’t need to be told twice my hands paw at your breasts, your voice betraying a giggle as I move to the nipples, water from the lake leaving them slippery as my fingers tug and squeeze them. Your hands move from my body to both sides of your belly as you groan - at first with the pleasure of my touch then finally with the effects of another contraction starting its journey on you.

“I guess it works,” you note before the full force of the contraction takes hold, grabbing onto my shoulders and resting your forehead against mine, breathing in and out slowly along with me as the pain crests. It still hurts, but at least the water is taking off some of the pressure and you’re able to stay present through the whole thing.

When it’s over, you slide your hands down my arms and position me hands back on your breasts. “I think we’re getting the hang of this whole ‘labour’ thing,” you say with a grin as I continue my previous ministrations. You initiate a kiss and push yourself deeper into my grasp and chuckle as you’re brought up short by the belly between us.

Your hands find their way to my chest, my hips, then dip down beneath the waistband of my pants. It’s not exactly an ideal temperature for this, but you still hear my grunts of pleasure as you stroke, massage and tug.

We pause for another contraction—your grip moving a safe distance away from anything particularly sensitive—and you bury your face into the crook of my neck with a groan. The vocalizations help, a long, sustained note that rises in volume, but breaks when the contraction becomes too much and you switch to releasing short puffs of air. When you’re finally able to take a full breath again, you lift your head and look into my eyes. “Maybe we should start heading back.”

“You’re the boss, princess” I grin as I follow you out of the water, watching it drain off down your hips and ass as you get closer and closer to the edge. You give a little wiggle as you feel my hand pressed against your soaked through bottoms making contact with your ass cheek and I’m reminded of the caress you gave me in the water, my own length stiffening at the thought once again. We finally reach the waters edge and find a tree stump for you to sit on as I dry off what I can of your feet using my top before sliding your shoes back on again. I give you a hand putting your own top on as I pull on my own - now wet and sticking to my body, as I give you a hand up and we start our slow, squelching walk back to the cabin.

“Right now I want a nice warm shower” I say, you nod as another contraction picks up. You’re now at the point where you’re coping by vocalising, you stop moving as the contraction is upon you. You groan something in between your moans about the head feeling so low and how much your hips hurt that I come in behind you and squeeze my hands tight against your hips, pressing to try and help.

The force of my hands adds a nice bit of respite for your overtaxed back and pelvis, but it does little to counter the powerful pressure barrelling down in your core. You can’t speak, can’t stand up

straight, can’t focus on anything besides the air moving in and out of your lungs, and even that is a struggle.

Between the increasingly frequent contractions and your slow walk turning into an even slower waddle, the trip back from the lake takes at least twice as long as it did to get there. Our destination is in sight when another contraction hits and you grab onto my forearms—it’s a routine by this point—and bend your knees, getting into a gentle squat in front of you. Everything feels swollen and tight and impossibly full as your womb compresses. You start to wonder if your water breaking would relieve some of that painful tension.

Finally, we make it back and the shower is big enough for a party, so there’s easily enough room for both of us and the birthing ball we’d brought. I start the water, help strip you out of your wet and sticky clothes, and get you situated on the ball before getting myself ready and joining you in there. The warmth—and my hands—soothe your tight muscles as you roll your hips in gentle circles on the ball. It’s almost as if you can feel the head moving down with the force of each contraction and as a result you keep your legs splayed wide. More than once you catch my eyes lingering on your feminine curves. With more than a little assistance, you get up and have me take your seat on the ball; then you sit on my lap facing me, your belly pressing into me, your legs wrapped around mine in invitation.

The slippery ball coupled with the slippery occupants take a lot of my concentration to stay stable as you climb onto my lap, but wrapping your arms around the back of my neck helps keep us upright.

Your belly presses tight against me as you continue to writhe and wriggle as you huff and pant in my ear, your forehead pressed against mine.

I find myself getting hard at the closeness of your body and you react to the feel of the bulge pressing against the underside of your belly by rocking back and forth teasing both it and me.

My hands grip behind your back as you writhe, as I manage to get what little purchase I can on your slippery skin.

The contraction snuck up on you, your mind elsewhere as the all too familiar tightening ramped up, causing you to lean back and grip hard on my shoulders. You suddenly squeal as you feel a release. Whilst the obvious splash was lost in the water running within the shower, your waters had broken, and the sudden realisation that the baby’s head is just right on the cusp of appearing at your lips has you start shaking with anxiety, knowing you’re getting closer to having to push.

“Oh!” Even though you’ve been expecting it, waiting for it, the sudden release still takes you by surprise. Without the cushion of the amniotic sac the head descends quickly and violently, locking into your canal like a dislocated joint popping back into place. “Ohhh,” the exclamation quickly turns into a groan—the new wave of pressure that comes with this contraction is intense and your hand automatically reaches between your legs. There’s nothing there to touch yet, but you swear it feels like the baby is about to fall right out of you.

You slide off my lap and settle into a deep squat. Your breaths are coming in short, frantic gasps and the water running down your face makes it difficult to take in air, so you pitch forward onto your knees, resting your crossed forearms on my thighs and burying your head between my knees. Any other time the gesture would be most salacious, but right now all you want is to get through this contraction without drowning. I do my best to pull your hair back and shield you from the shower head, you manage to pant and curse your way through the worst of it.

You say we need to get out of here, to dry off and get to wherever we want to be for the birth, but even when it’s over you can’t bring yourself to unfurl from your current position. I presume you must be comfortable, as we stay this way for several seemingly back-to-back contractions that leave you trembling, nauseous and a little bit lightheaded. The weight in your hips seems to keep you anchored to the ground.

You recall reading about what labour would be like, how difficult and painful and relentless the transition stage usually is, but some part of you thought that preparing for it would make you more equipped to handle it. “I don’t know how much longer I can do this,” you admit, though you’re not sure I can hear your muffled voice over the water spray. Not that you have any choice.

Maybe I did hear you, or maybe I just know you well enough to sense that you need to change positions, because before you realise, the water is shut off and you’re on your feet, wrapped in an oversized towel and my embrace.

I assist you out of the shower and we plod slowly and deliberately step by step into the main living room. Your walking stance still has a widespread gait, almost like you had stepped out of a long day in the saddle, but I know it’s just subconscious with you trying to relieve the pressure on your hips.

I lead you forward to the sofa, where I guide your hands to the armrests on one side. You grab hold and drop down into a partial squat, bouncing a little on your thighs. "Let me get something down here, don’t want to make too much of a mess" I grin, though I think the expression is lost on you, entirely focusing on the weight in your pelvis.

I stroke your back and give it a rub as I step away and grab a few more towels, placing them on the seat and around in front of it. I suspect both the wooden floor, and the faux leather seats would wipe up fine, but I didn’t want to take any chances.

I hear a groan coming from you and look up to see you swaying your hips in a figure eight pattern. You look up and lock eyes with me, you give me a quick smile as if to say that you're OK, and I return the grin with "It's all going as it should baby, you're doing really well. I love you and you're doing a wonderful job."

You suddenly squat down low, using the chair arm as support, roaring as you dip down. I scramble to the side to make sure that there's nothing obvious happening spying a long trail of mucus dripping onto the floor from your crotch. I lift the back of the towel up, exposing your ass as you manage a moment of strained speech "can you see anything?"

"Sorry baby, no." I don’t mention the long trail of slime which I wipe off with the towel. There's no obvious bulging around your lips however. You give a dejected sigh. "I think you were doing really well there when you were using gravity to help, so lets get back to what we were doing in the shower, but maybe a little more upright?"

You nod, and let me take hold of you as I lead you around to the seat. I sit down on it, still noticeably dripping water from the shower from me, and you stand in front of me as I lower myself down. You then drop down into a squat between my legs, your belly hanging low almost touching the ground you squat is that deep - you use my knees and thighs as support. My hands reach over to your shoulders and squeeze as you turn your head slightly and nuzzle into my left hand. The brief moment of calm is lost when the next contraction picks up though, and you're soon roaring out loud once more.

You want to push, but know the urge is coming more from your head than your body. You catch yourself wishing for this to just be over and take a moment to refocus on the present moment. As the next contraction builds, you close your eyes and let your body do what it wants, what it needs.

Your grip on my thighs tightens, concentrating the tension there to allow the rest of your body to relax. Your hips are still restless but keeping them open feels right, so you continue to sway in your deep squat, shifting your weight as your knees swing left, and right, left, and right. You focus the sounds leaving your mouth into one long, sustained hum, the tone increasing in volume and pitch as the pressure intensifies. The pain starts deep in your core and radiates outward, wrapping around your butt, thighs and creeping up your spine and up to your shoulders.

You throw your head back suddenly, arching your back and pulling up against gravity’s strong downward force. The noises in your throat shift to a series of primal whining moans – your whole body trembles as it attempts to deal with the shocks of pain centralized in your core. Just when you think you will surely be split in two, it dulls just enough for you to find my eyes, my focus, my excitement and then you remember… yes, you’re excited too.

I stand with you in the small breaks between contractions to give your knees a break, but the breaks get smaller and smaller and soon there’s not even enough time to change positions before another one is upon you. You don’t want to be stuck in that position, so instead you follow me to a seated spot on the couch. It’s deep enough so that you can settle between my legs and rest your back up against me. I pepper kisses along the line of your shoulder and up your neck as you twist your head so I can place one on your lips. My hands are molded to your generous swell, you placing yours over the top of them, interlocking our fingers as another relentless wave begins.

You pant, moan and writhe through another two contractions before the pressure in your ass and back becomes unbearable - your tailbone feeling like it’s going to snap. You know it must be the baby’s head moving down. Time must be passing, but you don’t know how long it is before the frenzied onslaught of contractions begins to slow and you feel like you can finally take a breath again.

You stand up and sit on my knee, pivoting in the position to swing one of your legs over my thigh, turning yourself sideways so that you can look up at me.

“Hi,” you say, and giggle as I give your bum an affectionate little squeeze. “I think it’s time to decide…” you pause, suddenly filled with nervous energy. I pull you in close, rub your tummy and wait for you to continue. The next contraction confirms it—the feeling, the urge that’s been building slowly until this moment when it now seems so obvious—you try to get the words out but you’re quickly tensed and grunting, trying your best not to be completely consumed by it.

“Need to decide—“ a quick huff, “where I’m going—“ a groan, “hnngh, to start pushing!” you finally yell, slamming backward into me and panting so quickly and heavily that it looks like you’re shaking. One of my hands grabs fiercely onto yours. The other disappears between your legs.

My mind recalls the bits of training and insight given to us by the midwife after we told her we wanted to go it alone. She was supportive, but of course insisted that she was nearby in case anything went wrong. She showed us a demonstration of dilation, and let me practice on a training dummy to see what the different stages felt like, so I was prepared. She explained it was often normal to feel like you need to push too early, so you were pushing against your own muscles rather than pushing into an open hole… it wasn't recommended.

My fingers entered into you, resulting in a small gasp. I immediately noticed how wet your passage was, presumably from the waters breaking, but thankfully I had no issue with snaking my fingers deeper and deeper. What shocked me first was how close to the entrance your cervix was - we had tested early in the pregnancy to see how deep I needed to feel back there, and to be blunt, it was painful pressing in that hard.

I felt the head at that point, my finger tracing around the circle of the entrance, a definite difference in texture between your muscles and the head of the baby. My face beamed. You looked at me quizzically. I replied "I can feel the baby, its right there, you're almost ready to push."

You managed a giggle and a strained sigh as you say "I know, I told you that, don't you doubt me young man when I tell you a need to find somewhere to push."

I look apologetic, but the mirth in your eyes gives away the fact you were just teasing me.

"Lets go outside…" I suggest, pausing a second, half expecting you to say no, that you were too vulnerable like this. You didn’t say anything. I continued. "I figure we wanted the natural air, the calming environment… and I don’t want to think I blew up the air mattress for nothing."

You giggled, but were cut short by another tensing pain. As we hold each other, you groan and howl, but start to wriggle off my lap. I question what the rush is, and you manage between panting breaths "don’t… know… how… long… I can wait."

I walk you over to the door, where you grab onto a chair back from the kitchen table sat by the large window overlooking the wilderness. I first grab hold of a pair of shorts - realising that if someone should walk past, it would be easier to avoid a public indecency charge for you than it would be for me - then pull open the door and rush back in to grab the air mattress I'd blown up the first day we got here.

As I dragged it and hefted it up to get it out the door, you pleaded at me to hurry. Your face showed genuine concern.

I took the mattress down the couple of stairs to a picnic area set outside the house. There was a cleared, grassy area next to it which didn’t have any significant amount of branches or any other sharp things which may burst the mattress, dashing back up for you, I led you down the few steps until you got to the mattress, lowering you down to your hands and knees.

You wasted no time at all, pushing back on your hands and thighs, you groaned, held your breath and gave your first push.

After so many hours of passive endurance, pushing with the contraction actually feels good. It almost seems to counter the internal pressure—almost—like finally being able to sneeze after your nose tickled all day. But it’s still your first time doing it and you’re not used to trying to focus and control those innermost muscles.

You rock back and you’re sure you look ridiculous with your ass high up in the air, but you feel my hands rubbing all along your thighs, coaxing you to relax and keep your hips open wide. For the first few contractions you try holding your breath and pushing as hard as you can for as long as you can. However, all that does is make you lightheaded and tired - and frustrated - that it seems to be fruitless.

I sense your growing impatience and ask if you want me to count for you and coach your pushes. You nod, and when you tense with the next contraction, I start at ten and work my way down to

one. You’re determined to keep going, but I tell me that it’s okay to let go and take a break for a second, that the baby is making its way down and it’s okay to breathe for a moment. You release a pained moan and try to pull in enough air to make it through another push. You’re trying to follow along with my instructions, but between being unable to see my face or feel your progress, having to balance on shaky arms on a shaky mattress… well, it’s just not working like that in this moment.

Carefully, you lower myself down so that you’re lying on your side, belly and head resting on some of the nest of pillows I’d brought out with us. Your knees are bent, one leg resting on the bed and the other flared out so you’re open like a clamshell. I sit toward the base of the mattress by your bent legs, my body angled toward yours so you can see me and your free leg can rest in my lap or over my shoulder. I also have a good line of sight as to what’s happening between your legs.

This puts a bit of unwelcome pressure on your hips, but for the most part this feels better—just as it was this morning, the breeze is fresh and cool against your skin allowing you to focus on my face and what your body is telling you. When another contraction starts, you hook my arm into the crook of my knee and pull it back toward your shoulder - as best as you can around your large stomach. Instead of holding your breath you release it slowly, squeezing your core and curling forward until you run out of air, then inhale just as slowly before repeating the process until the contraction begins to wane.

You lower your leg back down around my waist, put a hand on your belly, and look up at me with a smile. “That was good,” you say, finally feeling like you’re getting into the rhythm of this stage.

I plant a kiss on the top of your knee and join with you in feeling the firm swell that holds our child. “Just let me know if I can do anything” I offer with a little laugh.

Several contractions later you request that I begin holding your leg back—the urge to bear down is becoming overwhelming and you find yourself lost in it and unable to do anything else. The pressure is unlike anything you’ve ever felt before, and every push feels like something is on the verge of cracking, bursting or tearing.

You’re holding your breath again, but only for a few seconds at a time—it’s all you can manage before the instinct to recoil from the pain takes over. It’s changing now—sharpening, burning—and you let out a sharp cry, your body jerking as your knees try to snap shut against my firm grip. I hold you in place, letting you squeeze me in a death grip even as I wrangle your legs to ensure your hips stay open. I try to rub a comforting hand along your stomach, thighs, and bum. You know you must be making progress when you feel me stretching and circling your vaginal opening, trying to prepare you for what’s to come. I give a few playful flicks to your clit, as if to make you forget how bad that last round of pushing felt. It works and you grind down on my hand, pushing it deeper into your folds.

“How- how close?” you ask, still panting despite the contraction being over.

“You’re doing really well” I say enthusiastically, “Each time you push, you bulge out… a few more and I might even start to see the head peeking out.”

You seem to visibly grow bolder at the news, renewing your stamina as you pull back your leg again, once more hooking it over my shoulder. I lean in with my hands, pressing lightly against the bulge forming in your vagina, the first outward signs of the head attempting to make its way, with your help, into the world.

Each push brings with it a groan of effort, and several huffing breaths as I keep count for you, trying to keep your focus on the task at hand rather than allowing your mind to wander and lose track of the progress rather than just concentrating on the pain in each rush of effort.

You push your crotch into my hands, wiggling a little as I stretch out my thumb in response and rub it slowly in circles around your clit. Your groans intensify to shouts, making me pause my actions, but you gasp in between breaths that its helping, and I shouldn’t stop. I leaned forward as best I could with your leg still up in the air on my shoulder and kissed the bottom of the bump, all the playful and affectionate touching resulting in your smile back at me as the contraction finally finished.

Another three, maybe four pushes later, and finally, the first outward signs of the baby appear at your lips, the teardrop shape stretching out over a tiny fraction of the head.

I almost jump with enthusiasm. “I can see it’s head baby… you’re doing so well… keep that effort up.” My gleeful sounds give you another burst of stamina, as you double up your efforts for the next push, straining hard.

“Easy baby… remember, it’s a marathon, not a sprint. You can’t force it. Take it nice and slow and you’ll get there sooner than you know.” You’re left panting by the exertion of the last attempt at pushing.

Of course, as much as there was some visibility of the head, it soon slipped back in again, your lips closing up around it as the push was let off, but between us, we both knew we had passed another milestone.

Your hand snakes down between your legs and feel around, realising that you couldn’t feel the head, and a little crestfallen, you start to take your hand away.

I grab your hand before you can remove it and put it back into place, using my fingers to separate your lips. Your fingers probe in and just inside, you feel it too, the slick, slightly spongy texture of the head of our baby.

“Keep it there on the next push” I say, as you nod, and once more the need to push is upon you. Feeling your finger being moved out as the head moves out, whilst only a fraction of an inch, gives you more motivation to carry on, and you’re suddenly beaming at me with your smiling face, the awe of the moment capturing you entirely.

“I feel it. I feel it!” Your finger traces a line up and down the slit between your folds—it’s still small and tight, but even your laughter causes the head to bob in and out of sight. “Hi, baby,” you coo, then look up at me and suddenly you’re overcome with emotion. “We’re about to be- parents,” you manage, biting back a happy sob.

I smile down at you, wiping away a stray tear and cupping your cheek tenderly before moving my hand down to the crest of your stomach. Another contraction starts but you’re still processing your feelings so I give the thigh you have tucked around my shoulder a little squeeze. “Don’t cry now, love, you’d only just got your breathing under control!”

You laugh, but I’m right— your body is demanding that you push and you’ve got to actually get the baby out before we can officially celebrate. You’re reminded of just how much work there is left to do when your next few pushes do little to reveal any more of the head. With my help, your knee is pulled back almost to your shoulder opening you up wide, you have one arm wrapped around the perimeter of your belly as I keep my palm pressed against your opening. The mound presses out and

recedes in time with your efforts, refusing to retain any progress despite giving everything you have to the pushes.

“You’re doing amazing,” I assure you, and you scoff in disagreement. “You are! You’re stretching, opening up nicely for our baby.”

You might have mumbled something about our baby inheriting an unnecessarily big head from me, but the truth is the baby is just big all over—at our last appointment, they estimated 9lbs+ if you made it to your due date… which is today. You groan and make another attempt at the seemingly impossible task, it always feels like you’re making progress until you stop pushing and it all disappears back into your tight folds.

You rest your leg back down at my side and reach your arms up to me. “I need to move again,” you decide. I pull you up to a seated position and help you swing my legs over the side so you’re perched at the edge of the mattress. It’s low enough to the ground that it’s almost a squat, and I kneel down in front of your spread knees. On the next contraction you curl forward, one hand on the underside of your belly and the other squeezing my shoulder. You let out a surprised yelp as the head lurches forward quickly, but just as quickly my hand is there providing support and counterpressure, tugging gently at the edges of your taut hole. The head jerks back inside when you take a breath, but then you lean back into it, pulling one leg back while keeping the other on the ground for stability. Another quick breath and then you’re back at it, letting out a high pitched cry when you feel yourself widen another fraction of an inch as the stretch starts to burn.

“Don’t let me tear!” you beg desperately between pushes—even though you’re just starting to crown, it feels like you can’t possibly open any more, and it’s almost a relief when the head sinks back inside this time.

You don’t make much progress during the next contraction, and I can tell it’s because of your hesitant pushes— you’re afraid of the pain that’s coming. When it’s over, I coax you down into a full squat in front of me. I don’t say anything, just pepper kisses all over your face and belly as my hands escalate their ministrations between your legs that have you squirming and breathless going into the next contraction. You push again in earnest, a mix of pain and pleasure, throwing your head back in a moan that turns into a shout and something in you gives way—the head making its way past my tailbone. This time when you stop pushing, the head stays right where it is, bowing out the skin of my vagina into a wide dome, a small round cap of hair at its peak.

“That’s it, we’re seeing real progress now baby, you’re doing so well.” My voice has a more muted tone than my yelling, enthusiastic outbursts from earlier, more intended to keep you calm and concentrating on the task at hand.

My fingers trace around the bulge between your legs now, feather light you squirm under my caress.

“That… that’s not fair” you manage to gasp, concentrating on the touch and not the cramping pains that have been your ever present companion for what seemed like hours now.

“You deserve a reward for all the hard work you have done, for all three of us” I say to you, my grin can only be described as devilish. My lips meet yours and we kiss in a passionate embrace - my hand curling around your shoulder in support as you brace yourself on my knee to stop you toppling over.

As we’re kissing, you pull back and groan, yet another contraction starting once more. My free hand which was down between your legs reaches up to caress the bump, then continuing further north it meets a breast and a nipple.

The sensitive area had already been a keen play area between us over the last few weeks, your nipples getting hyper sensitive as they were getting ready to express milk for the baby. My touch caused you to shiver as you recalled a recent play session, and you arch your back involuntarily pressing your chest out to give me more access.

My fingers lightly tug and squeeze the nipple, teasing it back and forth until you expressed a few drops of colostrum.

As I did so you pushed, eyes scrunched tight, panting out loud, all of your concentration on the pleasurable touches I was giving you rather than the pain you were feeling.

The nipple stimulation had an unexpected side effect, the contraction surged unexpectedly. You almost faltered and cried out but managed to maintain your composure, growling phrases such as “come on baby, come on out, mummy and daddy want to meet you” in between panting breaths.

You scream all of a sudden “so… much… pressure!” My hand drops down to between your legs and I feel the sheer amount of the head that’s starting to poke through. Unfortunately there’s still quite a way to go until you’re crowning, but my finger slips in between your lips and the baby’s head, stretching your skin a little.

It doesn’t go unnoticed by yourself, as I press my finger in and stretch you howl out in pain.

“I’m sorry baby but I need to help you stretch. There’s a long way to go and we need to take this nice, slow and easy”

You have moisture at the corners of your eyes as you say you know, acutely aware of how much work you have done, and beginning to realise just how much you still have to do.

“I’m with you” I blurt out, trying to get you back to a good place, your forehead slumping forward and meeting mine, as you pant, the contraction finally passing, my eyes look down between your legs and see the head sitting there, testament to the work you have done so far.

Some of the tension leaves you as you feel the skin stretch further - it’s still heavy and tight, but at least it doesn’t feel on the verge of causing damage anymore—and you sink forward into my embrace. You reach your hand down to feel what I’d just felt, barely recognising your own body. Your lips are hot, puffy and flared out monstrously wide so that they press out against your thighs. Your opening is kept taut and open in a perfectly round “O” and the skin feels so tightly moulded around the baby’s head even as its exit refuses to give way. You know women do this every day… but it just doesn’t seem physically possible in this moment.

“I need to stretch.” You’re telling yourself as much as me, but I nod anyway. “I need to relax long enough to let myself stretch.” You look at me almost pleadingly, and I know what you’re asking.

There’s little danger now of losing sight of the modest crown, so I lift you out of your squat and back up onto the mattress. You’re careful to keep your legs wide, knees falling open to the side as you lay fully on your back. I join you as soon as you’re situated, fitting myself between your hips, propping myself up on one side and hovering over your torso. We share a laugh as we try to find our balance, but soon you’re wincing with the start of another contraction.

“Breathe, baby,” I say gently, my free hand moving between your legs to continue its agonizing work. “Just breathe for now. Your body will do the work for you.”

“And you,” you manage before gritting your teeth and clutching at the pillows shoved in various supportive positions around you. I somehow manage to both stretch your hole and pleasure you at the same time, my thumb and index finger seemingly at odds in their objectives. You can’t help but push a little at the tail end and the burning is more bearable this time.

Between contractions you buck up your hips so both of my hands can work toward opening you up, a mix of massaging and stretching and teasing that has you pulling me on top of you. I kiss you deeply before my mouth moves down your neck and chest, settling over one of your darkened nipples as my tongue playfully flicks and envelops the sensitive tip. You’re so caught up in the sensations that the next contraction—made so much stronger so much faster by the stimulation—takes you completely by surprise and you scream, pulling hastily back on your legs and riding your body’s instinct to push.

“Easy now,” I caution you, pushing back against the growing dome between your legs and carefully supporting the suddenly overly stretched skin. “Breathe.”

“I can’t!” you yell, throwing your head back for a quick inhale before curling forward again.

“Then pant, pant! Hoo-hoo-hoo. Like you’re blowing out a birthday candle.”

You try to emulate releasing quick puffs of air but it turns into one long groan that escalates back into a howl as the pressure of the baby’s head combines with my tugging fingers. You have to press your hands into your trembling knees just to try and keep them open. Another push and you see me looking down between your legs, seeing what seems like the whole outline of the huge head pressing out against my skin still trapped behind my relatively small hole. You collapse backward in defeat.

“It’s too big,” you whine as the contraction begins to fade. You’re sure a lot of women feel that way and it turns out fine, but damn does it feel true right now. I look a little concerned, so you pull yourself up, repositioning so that ypu’re on your knees facing me. You take one of your hands and put it back between my legs and position the other over your breast. With a deep breath in then out again, you announce “Guess we better get to work.”

“Next time you need to push, just make ‘mmm’ sounds OK?”

You look skeptical but nod anyway, and soon you start. You pitch rises, and I tell you to keep it slow and steady, focus on the breathing rather than the pushing.

You nod, as my hands do their work. My hand that’s dipped down between your legs is rubbing and softening the skin between them, pressing back against the hard bulge of the head just agonisingly close.

Your head is tucked into my shoulder, one hand steadying yourself against me, the other rubbing slow circles on your breast and nipple knowing how well that was helping before.

A full minute of that contraction passes and I feel some useful movement between your legs.

“Go and do that again” I say as another one picks up. I can see it’s taking all your concentration not to push hard, your hand that is resting on me shaking and passing the vibrations through to me.

“Think you have another one in you?” I ask as that contraction passes, your response practically begs me “Fuck… no, I need to push”

There’s nothing you can do this time as the contraction begins to build, you reach to grab the hand that was playing with your nipple earlier and press it into the mattress with the force of your push.

My hand cupped under you feels success though, your skin seems to peel apart as the head makes its way out of you, the skin rolling back over the head as more and more of it made its way out from inside of you.

“Back at it, quick!” I say as the push ends, and you do so, more of the head seeing fresh air. My hand pressed against your lips slowly moulds the skin back.

You finally relent, the contraction over with, the head now well on its way to a crown. You look into my eyes and can see I almost have tears forming. “You did it babe, you got over this. Might have a full crown in the next contraction.”

You know in your heart you felt everything but need to feel down between your legs to know it was real. You hand scrabbles down and you trace the outline of your opened lips, smiling, clearly approaching exhaustion now.

No time to rest though as another contraction builds.

Your whole hand can fit over the large dome coming out between your legs now—the skin of your vagina stretched in a vertical mountain over the straining head. It sits heavily right at your opening, a slow burn ready to flame to life at the next push. You keep your hand there as the contraction begins to build, feeling how your body squeezes and compresses even before you add any conscious force. You let out a long, slow breath, waiting until the tension grows and intensifies and you absolutely cannot refrain from bearing down with it.

You groan as you finally give into the primal urge, tilting your hips forward and back in time with your pushes, keeping hold of the delicate ring of flesh, alternating between easing it back and releasing it millimeter by millimeter, push after push until a proper crown begins to form.

My hands rub a circular route from my belly to around the curve of your ass, up your thighs, then back again. Suddenly you hold completely still and I follow suit, my hands poised in front of you for whatever you may need. “Mmm,” You moan, the hum echoing through your whole body as you lean forward with your hands pressed into my thighs as you push down, hard. It burns and you let out a strangled whine, but keep pushing. You take a breath and shuffle your knees open wider and push some more. I’m saying something sweet and encouraging, but you’re too focused to really hear it.

“Come on, baby,” you plead again, slumping forward against me as the contraction ends. “Mummy needs you to work with me here.” I tell you to take your time, that there’s no rush, but that’s easy to say when you don’t have a cantaloupe forcing itself out of your body.

“Maybe next one,” I suggest, trying to keep my spirits up.

“Next one,” you agree. It certainly needs to come soon, you’re feeling weary and exhausted with the effort.

Your knees start to hurt again so I help you unfold your legs so that we’re sitting face to face, your spread legs on the outside of mine with me situated in between. I grab a towel and twist it up into a rope, holding one end while offering you to hold the other. “Lean back,” I tell you when the next contraction starts.

“Holy fuck!” you cry, pulling against the towel as your focused on a powerful push and finally feel the head give some more. Your knees instinctually rise so they’re on either side of your belly, and I have a wonderful view of everything that’s happening. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, it’s burning, it’s- babe, fuck!” you’re muttering explicit nonsense in between howls and wails as the intense searing stretch goes beyond whatever you thought possible. Nearly letting go of the towel and the push you suddenly hear me yelling out in my own exhuberant shout.

“It’s crowning!”

Your head snaps up at me, your expression a wonderful mix of joy, wonder, pain, fatigue and probably a dozen other emotions. Your eyes are wide and your mouth lets out a sudden yell - but it doesn’t sound pained as such, more victorious.

As the head reaches its peak, all the burning, searing pain you had been feeling finally relented, your nerves in your skin stretched to their limit and no longer functioning.

Time seemed to stop for you, your brain going a million miles a minute until your focus is back on me yelling at you

“Stop pushing, you’re at your widest, pant it out, please, you didn’t want to tear!”

You follow without thinking, letting out your breath in a slow, slow exhale. It seemed to take forever in that moment of slowed time between us, but suddenly there was a sound that could only be described as a ‘thwack’ as your tightly stretched vagina lips slid back at speed over the baby’s head.

The next moment seemed to take just as long to resolve in my mind.

Firstly jets of amniotic fluid came gushing out from around the head, shooting all the way across to me and coating my chest.

My view was suddenly focused on the back of a head lodged between your legs, said head being slightly cone shaped following its tight passage.

Pools of fluid were still draining out between your legs.

Miraculously you respond first. “Check for a cord” you manage in a croaky voice.

I nod and let go of the towel which you gather up and put to the side of you.

My hands reach down to the baby’s neck and slide down to the gap between it and your lips. I feel nothing caught.

“You’re good, let’s see, I think the head needs to turn now for the shoulders”

I now have a hand under the baby’s head supporting it as I feel you bounce left and right on your ass cheeks as if you’re shifting your weight to either side, the head rotates sideways and I finally get a good glance of the baby’s face.

I look up and once got tears in my eyes as I say to you “baby looks beautiful love.”

You wish you could see it for yourself too, but seeing the love shine through my eyes at our baby’s face is enough for now. You reach down and it’s still surprising that the whole head is outside of your body, that you can trace the outlines of it’s ears, nose, lips and chubby little cheeks. Your eyes well up to match me and I give your belly one last peck before it’s empty again. There’s nothing quite like this feeling, the power and strength of accomplishing such a feat at direct odds with the

softness and vulnerability that comes with being able to really see and touch your child for the first time.

The relief from delivering the head is short-lived as another contraction reminds me that your work is not yet done. The pressure in your stomach is slightly lessened with the release of so much amniotic fluid, but somehow seems to increase in your hips— seems this baby’s got broad shoulders too. You start panting and grip tightly to my forearm, not quite ready to give everything you have into another push just yet. You ride it out, giving low groans through the contraction until the insistent pressure returns and you feel the shoulders nudging at your opening.

“Are you ready?” I ask, alerted to the change in situation by your grip tightening on my arms.

The answer is an easy, “Yes.”

You move your hands to my shoulders to steady yourself and lean into the push. It’s harder than you thought it’d be for your already stretched skin to give way and as a result you let out a determined growl, then release your breath and dive back into another push. I assist with a little tug and that’s all it takes for the shoulders to pop over your tailbone and fill my opening all at once. You scream at the sudden burning stretch, but it only lasts a moment before the rest of the baby slides out quickly and easily on a river of amniotic fluid.

Your senses and emotions are immediately overwhelmed as this little red squalling beautiful thing is placed on your chest. You’re crying and shaking as you cradle it gingerly—it seems so small and vulnerable, and yet those little fists and feet are kicking out angrily at the uncomfortable eviction into this cold, loud, bright world.

“Hi, baby,” you coo wetly, gently patting its back and reaching for me to join us in the moment. I wrap us up in sun-warmed towels and kneel at your side, laughing through tears and peppering kisses all over your face and our baby’s head. You’re so caught up in the moment—the relief and awe and exhaustion and elation—that there’s one thing you missed. You shift the baby’s body a bit and peek under the towel, and the tears renew afresh. “A little boy!” You look back up at me in surprised joy, but I just chuckle—of course I’d already realised that as I lifted the baby up to your chest. “We have a son.” The realization settles over you as comfortably as me arms around your waist, and you have a feeling we’re both thinking the same thing.

We can’t wait to do this again.

After the brief moment of relief and satisfaction washed over us, I realised we had better call the midwife to make sure everything checked out right with the baby. I pulled out her phone and dialled her number to hear it go off just behind us in the house.

She walked out from the cabin we had rented with a broad smile on her face. I suddenly realised I’d handed her a spare key in case she needed to get in quickly and I couldn’t get away from you.

“You guys did really well. I figured things were hotting up when I heard the screams and moans from outside of my place… had to intervene with some hikers who were heading your way wondering what the commotion was all about. Here…”

She handed us both drinks, as I suddenly realised exactly how late it was. I mentally counted up - I’d been awake 6 hours with you, and no idea about how long you had been up during the night.

You handed off the baby to the midwife who clamped and cut the cord, and handed over the cup as you drank thirstily - all that heavy breathing and yelling had left you parched.

“So… I went to double check because I certainly wasn’t expecting you to be doing this out in the open where any old Tom, Dick or Harry could walk past…”

You grinned, feeling your strength return as you drank the liquid.

“It felt natural to do it in nature” you just said.

“Well… baby gets a good clean bill of health, and I dare say mum has come out all but unscathed too. Well done to both of you”

Another hour or so of paperwork, plenty more postnatal checks, and a complete placenta delivery later, we were laid in bed in the cabin, our small family of three, contemplating what we were going to do for the next week in our cabin.

#fpreg #birth kink #labor kink #birth

516 notes · View notes

gh0stsp1d3r · 5 months

Text

𝒮𝓌𝒶𝓃 𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝓇ℯℯ

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Part 1, part 2, part 4.. (to be released)

(For the dance, I used whatever moves I could remember from when I was young, but just look at svetlanas black swan performance to see what I meant)

Time skip

You won. Holy shit you won. You stood there, among all the snakes. Your once beautiful white dress was now torn and worn out.

You looked down on your arms, confused as to why the snakes weren’t attacking you like they did the others. Soon, you were escorted out by some peacekeepers.

And when you thought you were finally free, they had told you that Coriolanus had been caught cheating. And you as well, with the poison.

“Take her back to 12.”

And with those words, you were on the train back. Back to where it all started, back to where you would forever be.

"Send me to 12," Coriolanus said, if he were to serve his 20 years anywhere, he would want to serve it wherever you were.

He already missed you, your dress, your voice, your laugh and your smile.

When he saw you again, it was at a theater. The theater was older, nothing like the ones in the capitol. Hoff had given them another day off, the others had gone into the bar, but when he was walking he spotted your name on a sign.

"The victor, swan" it had said in bold letters, he stopped in his tracks, breath catching in his throat. Underneath was a small printing of your name, with a time and date.

He opened up the theater doors quietly, Sejanus followed behind him. He was just on time, because you came onto the stage and went over to the microphone.

“Uhm.. hello.” You said, your makeup and your dress looked perfect. The new black dress went perfectly with you. The people cheered, you smiled and laughed at them.

“Thank you. I’m Y/n, although most of you already know me. I see some familiar and unfamiliar faces, so I’m glad you all are here. This dance… is probably the hardest I’ve done, I was working on it for a while before I got picked. I practiced it every chance I got when I did get picked.” You said, your eyes scanning the crowd.

“And I wanted to dedicate it to everyone who’s been following my stuff for a while, to everyone who’s been watching for a while, and to…” your eyes stopped on Coriolanus. He gave you a small smile and you smiled back, covering your mouth for a second.

“Sorry, and to a certain mentor, he knows who he is. This song is also one of my favorites, the snow is falling. Debussy. It’s a classic. Anyways, enough of me talking. Enjoy!” You said, they rushed to take the microphone off the stage and you took a deep breath as you got into place.

When the song started playing, it was silent and all eyes were on you.

You started off simple, going into the next move with an arabesque, then a saute de chat. It went on for long, an impressive fouetté to finish it off.

Coriolanus was smiling the whole way through it, he turned to look at sejanus for a moment but instead saw him slipping away. He was going into a room in the corner.

Once finished, people clapped and cheered. You smiled and thanked them, giving them a curtsy before you ran down the stairs. You looked through the crowd for Coriolanus but you couldn’t see him anymore. He had left the spot he was in before.

Then you spotted him moving through the crowd, into a room. So, you followed him into the room. You ran into the room, still in costume.

“Coryo-“ you began, coming up to him. He protectively put his arm over you, shielding you from the others.

You were confused, your face fell at it. What had he gotten himself into now?

#Spotify #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x y/n #coriolanus x you #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow x reader #president coriolanus snow #young!coriolanus snow #president snow x reader #snow x reader #coryo snow #coriolanus snow x female!reader #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth

166 notes · View notes

samiiy20 · 5 months

Text

✩ 𝗞𝗶𝗺 𝗛𝗼𝗻𝗴𝗷𝗼𝗼𝗻𝗴 (𝐟𝐭. 𝗣𝗮𝗿𝗸 𝗦𝗲𝗼𝗻𝗴𝗵𝘄𝗮) ✩

𝖯𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀: Kim Hongjoong x fem! reader x Ex bf! Park Seonghwa 𝗚𝗲𝗻𝗲𝗿𝗲: Smut 𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 3.1k 𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: Threesome, unprotected sex (don't do it), jealousy, oral sex, eating cum, creampies. (I apologize if I forgot something) 𝗦𝘆𝗻𝗼𝗽𝘀𝗶𝘀: Hongjoong had a little surprise for you to enjoy the night, but you never expected it to include your ex-boyfriend.

N/A: First, I'm glad that this writing is the first fic of the year. Second, I can't stop watching the MV that these two released, so boom! I didn't sleep for two days thinking about this jsjsjs but I hope you like it <3

masterlist II tag list

This content NOT is for minors!!!

This is merely entertainment, this does not represent any real person.

It is forbidden to copy or translate my work.

English NO is my first language.

You had been dating Hongjoong for a while now, but it wasn't anything formal, you liked hanging out with him when you had nothing to do, he fulfilled your every whim without asking for anything in return, and the sex with him was fantastic. You felt comfortable without commitments, anyway you weren't looking for something serious with someone after the damage your ex left behind.

"You are busy? Are you busy?" You sighed looking at the mess in the kitchen and grabbed your phone before answering Hongjoong.

“No, actually I'm finishing eating but…”

“It tasted horrible?” A moan confirming his suspicions caused his laughter to be heard over the speaker. “Do you want to come?”

“I don't know, I have some things to do tomorrow and…”

“Please” think for a moment and before saying anything continue “Maybe we can enjoy dessert.”

You laughed a little because you knew what it meant but you were tired, maybe you deserved a break.

“But come for me.”

"Deal "

After almost an hour (enough time to clean up the mess in the kitchen and put on anything) Hongjoong was outside leaning against his car smoking a cigarette. When you approached him he smiled giving you a quick look up and down and you couldn't help but feel nervous.

“As beautiful as ever,” you rolled your eyes, snatching the cigarette from his fingers before taking a drag and smiling.

" you're a liar"

“Give me a kiss” You hit him in the chest and he took your hand, cornering you between the car and his body “just one.”

“It's never just one with you” he raised his shoulders smiling and you sighed before looking around and joining your lips in a quick kiss, but Hongjoong slid his hands along your waist until he reached your butt and squeezed it “Stop it, someone might see us.”

Hongjoong laughed and opened the door for you, he waited for you to get in before doing the same and starting the car. The whole way he was giving you looks and letting his hand rest on your thigh, caressing your skin a little, but it only made your body start to light a small flame inside you.

“Do you remember what you said the other day?”

"No"

“When were we in bed?”

“Joong says a lot of things and I forget half of them” actually you did remember, although you didn't know what he was referring to, you had said a couple of frustrated fantasies, but you were pretending not to, it was very embarrassing to accept it now that you were sane.

“Well, I have a surprise for you.”

“You know I don't like surprises,” you replied, crossing your arms when he turned off the car engine. Hongjoong turned to look at you and took your face in his hands.

“You might like this one” his words made you nervous but at the same time curiosity took over you.

Hongjoong was a person who liked to experiment, he was not closed to any idea and had even fulfilled a couple of your fantasies, he had taught you a few things that you didn't know you might like and you were eager to know what he had in store for you.

When they arrived at the apartment it seemed strange to you that the lights were on, but you didn't say anything and before you could question it he covered your eyes with his hands and placed a kiss on your neck.

“Don't do that… I can't see” you tried to remove his hands but his breath made your skin crawl, leaving you still.

“Shhh… let me guide you precious”

Your senses were turned off when he placed his lips on your neck and his tongue ran a path to your shoulder while he made you walk slowly forward. You let out a low moan as you felt his teeth dig into your skin.

"Are you ready?"

“No,” Hongjoong’s laughter echoed in your head and nerves tickled your entire body. Hongjoong's hands slowly discovered your eyes and as your vision adapted to the light again you could notice a strange figure in the place.

When you were finally able to see what it was, you froze. Of all the things you thought Hongjoong had prepared, you never imagined seeing your ex-boyfriend sitting calmly with a smile on his face. No, this had to be a fucking joke. You rubbed your eyes thinking you were hallucinating but he was still there.

“Seonghwa?”

“Hi doll,” your ex responded, widening his smile even more.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

"What is this? they know each other?" Hongjoong asked confused.

“No” you responded. “Yes” Seonghwa said at the same time.

You turned around heading towards the door but Hongjoong stood in your way.

“This was your surprise?” you asked angrily

“I don't know what you're talking about, I didn't even know they knew each other, I don't know who he is… well yes but…”

“Ahhh of all the people in the world you chose him?”

“I'm still here,” Seonghwa said, approaching you and you avoided seeing him.

“You…” you turned to where he was and put a finger on his chest, “how did you get here? Do you still want to continue ruining my life? "Isn't what you did enough for you?"

“I'm sorry, okay? I told you it was a misunderstanding but you never let me explain it.”

“Enough,” Hongjoong exclaimed, full of the whole situation. “I don't know what matters you have between you, but I think we should calm down.”

It took Hongjoong a while to convince you to stay and talk calmly while they clarified the situation, but although you finally gave in, you were uneasy with Seonghwa's presence. The three of them sat at the table and Hongjoong made them talk in turns. You sighed, threatening your ex with your eyes and told him your story.

“We were a couple a while ago…”

“Six months,” Seonghwa interrupted you.

“Anyway, we broke up, but that part wasn't very nice so I made my life and then I met you and blah blah blah, things happened and now I'm here, in front of this idiot.”

“Anything to say Seonghwa?” Your ex opened his mouth but denied before looking at you.

“How did you meet?”

“That doesn't matter to you,” you responded aggressively as you crossed your legs and looked away. “How did you two meet?”

"What difference does it make?"

“Stop it, you're both tiring me out.” Hongjoong dropped into the chair and sighed, looking at them both. He had no idea what trouble he'd gotten himself into just for wanting to have a little fun with his favorite people, but here he was having to put up with their complaints. “I met Seonghwa like I did with you okay?” at the bar, it was actually a week after you, you both vented about your problems but I never imagined they would talk about each other, I didn't even know they knew each other, I thought it was a good idea to bring him because I thought he was your type and you would enjoy more, but ahhhh I never imagined this”

You felt a little bad for Hongjoong, he just wanted to fulfill one more of your fantasies and ended up getting into a weird mess. You caressed his hand and without looking at your ex you stood up and hugged him from behind.

"It's not your fault"

“Yeah, whatever, don't feel bad,” Seonghwa said to help you, “she wouldn't be able to handle it anyway.”

You threatened Seonghwa with your look, you didn't want to talk to him but her words hurt your ego, you had been with both men before, you knew them better than anyone and you dared to say that you couldn't handle them? Who did he think he was?

"What do you mean?" The voice is more aggressive than you intended but Seonghwa's smile only made it harder for you to contain yourself “I can't handle you? I’ll show you, idiot.”

Without paying attention to your ex you climbed onto Hongjoong's lap and he held your hips before you could continue.

“You don't have to do it if you don't want to.”

“I want” You responded before bringing his lips together as you pulled him into the most passionate kiss you had given him before, mixing your tongues and letting his teeth collide. Your hands passed over his chest and slowly went down to slide over the delicate shirt he was wearing.

"Is that all you have?" You rolled your eyes, separating yourself from Hongjoong and wiggling your hips in his lap while locking your gaze with Seonghwa who had stood near him. You grabbed him by the edge of his pants and made him take another step. Before he continued speaking, you raised your hand to reach the collar of his jacket and bring it closer to your mouth.

“You don't know when to shut up, right?” You felt Seonghwa's labored breathing on your lips and you noticed his dilated pupils. “Accept that you still like me, idiot.”

"And what?"

Your memories came back for a split second and you remembered the reason why you decided to break up with him, you were still angry for seeing him kiss your best friend but you had to accept that you still had feelings for him, the years at his side were something that You would never forget, how could you forget all that love, desire and passion that you felt every time you saw him. And now that they were face to face those feelings blossomed again.

“I hate you” you whispered before pulling him into your mouth and delving into his lips, they were just like you remembered them, sweet and fluffy.

Hongjoong had gotten lost in the feeling of your hips grinding against his clothed cock that he almost forgot about you. He dug into the crook of your neck leaving a red mark on his making you moan into Seonghwa's mouth causing your fingers to tangle through his long hair.

He broke away from the kiss, seeing your eyes full of lust when Hongjoong removed your shirt, freeing your breasts. “Come here,” he snatched you from the hungry mouth of his friend, tasting your skin.

Hongjoong laughed when he saw them and to think that a few minutes ago they didn't even want to see each other. He sighed, feeling the pressure in his pants as he watched them devour each other's mouths and their hands touching each other's bodies, peeling off the layers of clothing they were wearing until they were almost naked.

“Let's go to the room.”

When they finally closed the doors, you threw yourself at Hongjoong, also helping him to free himself from his clothes, leaving kisses along his neck and slowly going down his abdomen to the edge of his boxers, you pushed him on the bed and he smiled, settling in the center when he saw Seonghwa approaches from behind.

You settled between Hongjoong's legs, leaving his erection free of him as you gave Seonghwa a look as you spread your legs and raised your butt. You turned your attention to Hongjoong's dripping cock and ran your tongue over the tip of it before taking it into your mouth and hearing a muffled moan leave his chest.

You were so focused on sucking Hongjoong's cock that you almost forgot about your ex, but when he came up behind you and ran his fingers through your wet panties you closed your eyes before sucking his cock into your mouth again.

Seonghwa was so eager to have you again that he could barely keep his composure, even worse if you gave him a full view of your ass and wet pussy. It took strength from the depths of his being not to collapse at that moment and he slid your panties down to see your pussy, he moaned when he saw it up close again, he couldn't wait to taste the sweet nectar that he hadn't tasted in months.

He pressed his lips to your pussy and held your breath when you felt his tongue. Hongjoong shivered from the vibrations in your throat and didn't want you to stop so he grabbed a handful of your hair and pushed your head back onto his cock.

"I thought you could handle this" you gave yourself some time to breathe but when Seonghwa put two fingers in your pussy you could only moan in Hongjoong's face "are you enjoying it?"

You nodded, letting yourself be carried away by the pleasure that Seonghwa's fingers gave you while you continued moving his tongue in circles over your clit.

You approach Hongjoong's lips to stifle your moans but he grabs your hair, guiding you back to where you were.

Your movements were slow, you could feel your legs starting to shake and you couldn't continue holding the knot in your stomach. Seonghwa knew you were close to him so he continued pumping his fingers putting in a third while he licked your pussy.

Tears began to build up in your eyes but Hongjoong continued to push your head down when he felt a shock on his cock. You heard Seonghwa laugh behind you as he decided he wouldn't let you finish but you didn't have time to think about that as you felt Hongjoong's load in your throat and you tasted it.

Your tears spilled down your face when you could breathe and Hongjoong caressed your face, drying them.

"Poor dear, did you want to cum?" More tears fell from your eyes.

"yes…yes"

Seonghwa felt a pang in his chest when he saw his friend caress your hair and lay you down on the bed. He couldn't help but beat her to the spot and smile at her trying to apologize, but in reality he was jealous.

"Understand me, I haven't had it in a long time."

Hongjoong raised his hands and nodded, hiding the small anger that formed in his chest, yet he settled behind you, placing his chest on your back and gave Seonghwa a challenging look.

"All yours" he said mockingly knowing it was a lie.

Seonghwa rolled his eyes but when he saw your naked body, jealousy took a backseat, now what he wanted was to feel you again and hear you moan his name.

He positioned himself between your legs and lined up his cock at your entrance watching your tearful face.

"You're very bad hwa" Seonghwa swallowed hard as he heard you tell him how before and he let go of the reins, letting yourself be carried away by you.

He sank inside and pressed you against Hongjoong's chest, you had forgotten how big he was but he made you moan feeling so full.

"I missed you, doll," he whispered to you as you got used to him again, tears still adorning your face and he wiped them away before bringing his lips together, tasting you on them.

“I…” your words stuck in your throat as he gave the first push “I didn't miss you”

"I don't need you to tell me, your body speaks for itself"

Seonghwa started to move his hips and you bit your lips when you felt Hongjoong's hands play with your nipples as he planted wet kisses along your neck, but Seonghwa bit your shoulder on the other side.

You closed your eyes, letting yourself be carried away by all the sensations in your body, the boys' lips on your neck, Hongjoong's hands as they went down to your clit and Seonghwa's hips colliding with yours, your breathing uneven, your legs shaking, everything. It was too much that you couldn't take it anymore.

Without warning you released yourself onto Seonghwa's cock.

"Hwa…Fuck"

"Yes honey keeps saying my fucking name"

The overstimulation was killing you, you wanted to say something but you didn't know what, you just wanted it to never stop. You put your head on Hongjoong's shoulders trying to breathe but Seonghwa's thrusts were killing you.

"Come on beautiful, just a little more" his words did not comfort you but you nodded, letting him also move his hips behind you.

You moaned louder as you felt his fingers on your clit, you felt the tears in your eyes and you looked at Seonghwa when he approached your lips and you accepted it by placing your hands on his shoulders and marking his skin.

Seonghwa was close and you could feel his cock throbbing inside you, he sank in a few more times before releasing his load and laying down on your chest, but Hongjoong continued to touch your sensitive clit making you wrap your legs around your ex's hips as you ran your nails down his back and let your head rest on Hongjoong's shoulder to kiss him when your second orgasm swept over you.

The three of you stood in silence recovering from the heat of the moment, you didn't know what had just happened but you didn't care, you had enjoyed it more than you would like to admit.

“Are you okay, beautiful?” You nodded without speaking and let go of Seonghwa's body, turning your back to him. With the little strength you had left, you climbed onto Hongjoong's cock and moved your hips slowly. “Aren't you tired?”

"i... want more"

Hongjoong lifted your hips and started pounding your pussy hard as he met Seonghwa's gaze. It was more than evident that he was resentful but it wasn't his problem for being an idiot, now he would have to see how he made you moan his name.

You wouldn't last long, but you tried hard to hold on to the knot in your stomach but it was getting stronger and your body was getting weaker with each stroke of Hongjoong's cock.

“Joong… I'm close.”

You lost track of reality when you felt the liquid from your body running down your thighs, you closed your eyes letting Hongjoong use your body for his pleasure and once he also freed himself he carefully laid you down on the bed and held your breath as you see how the mixture of the three ran through your used pussy.

Seonghwa licked his lips and without anyone telling him, he tasted the mixture, making your body react, but before he could continue, Hongjoong stopped him.

“Stop it, she's tired.” Seonghwa looked at him and suppressed the strange urge he had to push him and smiled. “You better go.”

"No"

They were both surprised but without saying anything Seonghwa lay down next to you and caressed your hair.

"You still miss me"

“Shut up idiot” you said smiling and extending your hand for Hongjoong to join in, he sighed before doing so and placing his hand on your waist “Thanks for the surprise Joong”

“Yeah, whatever, I hope you enjoyed it” You laughed a little before snuggling between them and taking a long rest.

180 notes · View notes

malereadermaniac · 8 months

Text

Insecure ~ Natsu Dragneel x Male Reader

Natsu is insecure about you having past partners - SHORT smut -> Hurt/comfort

Short fic in general lol

NSFW MDNI!

Male reader! Fem readers DNI

When you and Natsu started dating, he'd never been with anyone before

Both romantically and sexually

He's known you for a while so he knew that you'd been with a few guys before, and it never bothered him

But when the two of you had sex for the first time, you said something that made him start to feel a little insecure...

"Fuck... you feel amazing (y/n)!" Natsu grunts, his dick plowing into your ass like a madman

You moan loudly, Natsu's name bouncing off of the walls of his home

Your face was flushed and your body was sweating, you back against his bed, legs on your boyfriend's muscular shoulders

"Unnngh Natsu..." you moan, your ass clenching around the dragon slayer as kisses at your neck

His sweaty body against yours as you get closer and closer to cumming

"Fuuuuck are you sure you're a virgin, Natsu?" You moan, your dick twitching in need of release

"A-Ah... Yeah of c-course, baby Haaaaa~" Natsu moans, his face a mix of confusion from your comment and pleasure

"Holy shit - Ahhh~- you're better than anyone else I've had before FUCK!" You moan loudly

The thin string you were hanging onto snaps as you shoot ropes of white onto your chest and face

Natsu cums as well, biting your shoulder to ground himself as he finishes inside of you

His cum steaming hot, as expected of the fire dragon slayer

After the two of you clean up, you lay your head on your boyfriend's bare, muscular chest, his arm around your shoulders

You're talking about your day and a small mission you went on

But you were mainly talking at Natsu, not to him...

The pink-haired man was stuck in his thoughts

Natsu was having an argument with himself

He felt insecure that you were his first, but you had been with other men, who were probably more experienced and better than him

The other side of his internal argument was angry at himself, Natsu felt guilty as if he was slut-shaming you

It was fully within your right to have sex with as many men as you wanted before you two started dating, you were SINGLE for gods sake

But he felt icky knowing that other man had felt your touch the way he did...

"And then I ran into Lucy who-" you were mid sentence when Natsu interrupted you

"Sorry baby but... can I ask you something?" The pink haired man says meekly, avoiding eye contact

You chuckle "Yeah go ahead, I could tell you were stuck in your own thoughts anyway" you say with a smile

"Were... We're your past lovers better than me?.... like in bed" he mumbles

Natsu's question catches you off guard, to the point where you're speechless

Which Natsu takes as an answer

"Yeah I thought as much but...-"

"No! No they weren't! Sorry Salamander your question just caught me off guard" you explain, sitting up to look Natsu in the eye

"Oh... are ya sure? You don't have to lie to me, (n/n)" Natsu says as he brings a hand up to your head and plays with your hair

"I'm sure babe. You're better than any other dickhead I've been with in the past! Besides, I've only ever been with two other guys, and not one of them made me cum on their own haha" you laugh, your comments making Natsu blush

As the Dragon slayer keeps twirling your hair around his fingers, he looks into your eyes lovingly

"I'm glad I can make you feel good... cause your rock my world, (n/n)" Natsu chuckles

You laugh at his comment and after a little while, slap Natsu's shoulder gently and go to get up

"C'mon salamander, let's go start our da-" you were saying, however Natsu's tug on your arm interrupted you

"Wah!" You wail, Natsu's muscular arm immediately overpowering you, situating you onto his wide, muscular hips

"Let's go for a second round" Natsu says with a grin as the eager (no longer virgin) man grinds his hips upwards into your ass

"Noooo... I'm so tired already Natsu - bottoming is much harder than topping ya know!" You whine, but as Natsu grinds up, you too grind down

"Pleaseeee, you're hard too, (n/n)" Natsu chuckles, his rough palms rubbing up your side, his eyes focusing on your waist...

Fuck he loved your waist

"Ha.... Fuck it alright" you chuckle and bend down to kiss your boyfriend with a passionate, looooong kiss, that turned into a make-out

#male reader #gay #x male reader #fanfic #fluff #anime #light smut #gay smut #fairy tail #fairytail x reader #fairytail x male reader #fairy tail x reader #fairy tail x male reader #natsu dragneel #natsu x reader #natsu x male reader

379 notes · View notes

upsidedownwithsteve · 1 year

Note

hi love! for modern au could I please request modern!eddie dinner/movie date where r and eddie see a horror movie and r getting super scared and spending most of the movie hiding her face in eddies chest?

“This completely defeats the purpose, y’know,” Eddie whispered to you, his breath warm in your ear. You shivered despite the anxiety clawing at your chest, ‘cause the lights had lowered after the trailers had finished and an unsettling film score had started creeping through the speakers.

You’d immediately turned to the boy beside you, face in his chest as you took quick peeks at the screen, trying to work out if the opening credits were already too much for you to handle.

You frowned at him, pouting despite the mouthful of popcorn you’d shoved past your lips. “I told you,” you hissed back, wary of the surrounding audience already glaring at you. “I don’t mind a horror film, but this is like, big leagues.”

Eddie snorted, grinning at you when your grip on the front of his hoodie tightened as the title flashed across the screen, dripping and oozing red in a typical eighties horror tribute.

‘Evil Dead Rise.’

He managed to prise your fingers from the material, bringing your hand to his mouth to press a kiss over your knuckles. He kept it in his, his own fingers soothing over your own, pulling softly until he felt you wilt a little under his touch.

“What’s your level, babe? Gremlins? Scary Movie?”

Eddie was joking but you side eyed him, cheeks warming as you whispered, “look, the Exorcist scene in Scary Movie 2 was just as traumatising as the real thing, alright?”

Eddie smothered another laugh, rolling his eyes when someone in front of you both huffed in annoyance. He mined the threat of launching some popcorn at them, but he was distracted when a jarring screech from the movie made you jump. Your hand was a vice around his.

“Baby,” Eddie soothed. “You shouldn’t have said you’d come if you didn’t wanna see it.” He felt bad, taking in your stricken expression, eyes wide and now glued to the screen as if you couldn’t look away.

“I wanted to spend time with you,” you replied sweetly and well, didn’t that make Eddie feel even fucking worse? “You went to the cinema with the guys last week to see that Joe Quick thing-”

“John Wick,” Eddie corrected but he was smiling, amused.

“-so it’s my turn for date night,” you whispered and Eddie could hear the pout in your tone. “Not Steve’s. Or Dustin’s.”

“You get all my date nights, sweetheart,” the boy assured you and secretly, he was a little pleased at how you jumped when the theatre gasped, another shrill spike of music making you tug him closer. “You okay?”

Your face was against his neck, lips brushing the skin there when you hummed what he thought was a hesitant sound agreement.

In typical fashion, it didn’t take long for the movie to be kicked into high gear and by the end of the first hour, you’d never been more glad to be late to a showing, with the only seats left up the back. You were practically on your boyfriend's lap, back pressed to the cinema wall as you curled into him, feet pressed onto the seat between his thighs and your hands gripped his sweater, the collar of his denim jacket.

“Babe,” Eddie whispered, a fond smile on his lips. “Baby?”

You made a sound, questioning, but you didn’t move from where you’d tucked yourself into Eddie’s shoulder, eyes definitely not looking at the screen. There was a woman crawling along the ceiling and that shit just wasn’t for you.

“You wanna leave? We can leave, I don’t mind.”

And you knew Eddie was telling the truth. He truly wouldn’t have minded, seeing as it was you. But he’d been waiting an age for the film to release and he’d looked forward to it all week. So you shook your head and mumbled a small, “I’m fine.”

You weren’t fine, there was something going on with a cheese grater and a possessed woman and you weren’t down for that. Eddie waited a beat or two, bit down on his lip to hold back his laughter when someone on screen screeched and you wriggled your way even closer in response. He could feel your heartbeat against his chest, double the speed of his own.

“We can go home after and watch whatever you want, alright?” He promised, sneaking a hand up the back of your T-shirt, warm, wide circles drawn over your skin in an attempt at comfort.

He felt you nod. “We’re watching New Moon.” He groaned. “And Eclipse. With the lights on. All night,” you added for good measure.

And who was he to say no to you?

…

#Eddie munson #eddie munson x y/n #Eddie munson x you #Eddie munson x reader #Eddie munson fanfiction #Eddie munson fic #Eddie munson fanfic #Eddie munson fluff #Eddie munson imagine #Eddie munson oneshot #Eddie munson blurb #eddie baby blurb

433 notes · View notes

be-missed · 8 months

Text

I Love You More

Florence Pugh X Fem!Reader

(picture not mine)

Summary: You are dating Florence Pugh, and Florence knows that you are one of the biggest fan of Natasha Romanoff. Florence invited you to the celebration dinner for Black Widow 2 because they just finished filming. As you don't know, Scarlett was also there because she reprised her role as Natasha Romanoff.

A/N: Hope everyone is okay, I miss Natasha. I also don't know how to do the "See more" option, so uhm, can someone please teach me how to do it or is it automatic? Idk sorry.

Warning: None. Please notify me if there are.

Masterlist

__________________________________________________________

"Hey babe, are you sure it's fine for me to come to the celebration? Isn't that supposed to be a secret?" You teased Florence about the dinner because she doesn't even tell you the plot of the movie, she just tells you that she is glad to be part of the movie again and you'll love it.

"Stop with the teasing darling, and yes, you are allowed to join because one of the higher ups told me so." Florence answered you as she nuzzled to your neck and breathed in you smell and leaves pecks to your neck.

Before things get heated you pull away and heard the whine that comes out of Florence's mouth. "Okay babe, let's save it for later we'll be late. Come one let's move our ass up." Y/N said as she breaks from Florence's hold on her waist and gives Florence one last peck on her lips.

As Y/N gets ready for the last time, collecting herself and doing breathing exercise before they enter the dining hall that was rented by the team, Florence holds Y/N waist and whisper in her ears "Hey, you are doing a nice job, let's enter and have a nice night yeah?".

While they enter the dining hall, Florence started to talk to everyone and she doesn't forget to introduce her girlfriend to everyone. Florence holds Y/N's hands tight and doesn't forget to squeeze it every time Florence feels that Y/N breathing changes.

As they hear the host asked to go to their assigned seat, Y/N saw Florence's smile become brighter, as she follows her girlfriend's line of sight, there she is, Scarlett Johansson.

Y/N mentally panics, the gay one, the gay panic. Hundreds and hundred of thoughts are filling her mind right now. Like, Why is she here? Is she a producer? Of course she is right? WILL SHE BE BACK AS NATASHA? No, that's impossible, but I heard rumors, uhm NO, STILL IMPOSSIBLE. But WHY IS SHE HERE? Oh NO, what will I say? Can I even speak? Oh no.

Florence saw how her girlfriend panic and pulled her girlfriend out of her thoughts by squeezing her hand. "Surprise darling" Florence whispered to Y/N's ear with a giggle.

Scarlett was walking to the couple and Y/N can't do anything but focus on her breathing and nudge Florence with her elbow. "You could've told me earlier that Scarlett will be here" Y/N said to her girlfriend while she's mentally readying herself to talk to Scarlett.

"Hey ladies, how's the night going? I see Florence now brought her lovely girlfriend" Scarlett stated as she greet the both of you with the brightest smile.

"Hey Scarlett, this is Y/N my girlfriend and the love of my life. Y/N this is Scarlett, my friend and also my co-star." Florence introduced you to each other. Y/N is still in a haze and that's when Scarlett initiated a hug with Y/N.

Y/N still in the clouds have muttered words "Hi Scarlett, it's really nice meeting you, Florence told me a lot about you." Y/N tells Scarlett with a smile. Y/N was always glancing at Scarlett and stared at her in awe, mentally processing that she is near Scarlett and Scarlett knows her.

As the dinner went by, everyone was happy with the outcome of the filming and the editing and was excited for the release of the trailers. The night went by and everyone is saying their farewells to each other.

Inside the car Florence stares at Y/N with a bright smile on her face. A tinge of jealousy sparks on Florence's heart, but she knows that it's dumb to feel jealousy towards her co-star knowing that she is the girlfriend and you just really adored Scarlett and her character Natasha.

This change in Florence's aura doesn't go unnoticed by her girlfriend, so Y/N asked her girlfriend "Darling, all good?" and Florence only answered with a hum.

Y/N pushed through since she doesn't want Florence to feel neglected, "Honey, please tell me, I know something is bugging you?" Y/N added a pouty face.

"Well.." Florence started and continued with a sigh, "I feel jealous, I know it's dumb and stupid, but I feel like you nearly tell Scarlett that I was only a good friend. You also kept on staring at her. But I'm glad that you get to know her, I just feel, I don't know..." Florence looked at you with her pout, making her look like a baby and it makes you want to kiss it away, and that you did.

"I'm sorry if that's how my actions made you feel my love, I didn't mean to make you feel like I'm gonna tell Scarlett like you are a good friend. My inner child is just happy to finally meet her hero, and now I'm really glad that you let us meet. But I'm mostly happy that I am with you, here by your side, going home to our house, getting to wind down with you. My heart explodes with the thought that the filming ended and I get to be with the life of my life for the rest of my days, and no one can top that." Y/N said while looking at Florence directly that made her tear up.

"Are you proposing to me now, huh?" Florence said with a giggle that made the both of them laugh. "Well this is not how I want to propose, but I am saying that marrying you Florence will be the best thing that's gonna happen to me." Y/N said as she kissed Florence tenderly.

They break apart from the kiss with a smile on their faces. "I love you" Florence whispered, "I love you more. More than every thing and everyone. I love you Florence" Y/N answered.

___________________________________________________________

A/N: thank you for reading <3

#florence pugh x reader #florence pugh fluff #florence pugh x you #florence pugh x y/n #florence pugh imagine #florence pugh

146 notes · View notes

luffyvace · 3 months

Note

Hi I just wanted to say I love ur sm and I'm so glad to have found ur blog <333

It so hard to find a someone to write form tdlosk<3 (the author reader)

I had a cute though if it the came in my mind when reading the P2(?) Of it, Reader friend to show his approval of reader and saiki when he released his newest chapter in some of panel in the background there is this couple who is closely looks like reader and saiki or if there scene where there is desserts the most will stand out is a coffee jelly w Reader fav dessert and along with words of "coffee jelly and f/d are the finest together" (f/d = favorite dessert)

Sorry if I talked ur ear off I just wanted to rent this thought of mine ^^

Have a good day!

AWW YOUR SO SWEEEEEET!! TYSM DARLING <33 I agree I don’t see very many!!

AHHH THATS SUCH A GOOD IDEA!! That’s absolutely adorable I starting smiling so hard while typing this‼️💖

…………………..♡♡♡……………….

When you were reading your friend’s latest chapter you saw he drew a couple in that background resembled your appearance and had two thingys sticking out a guy’s head and glasses

you instantly knew it was you two!! (Especially with saiki’s limiters LOL)

freaking out, you and immediately ran to Saiki to show him 😭💓💓

he probably already noticed if he read the book before you

”KUSUO LOOK!! Looklooklook!- my author friend put us in the latest chapter!!!”

”yeah, I know I saw, he put us in the manga :)”

”that’s so ADORABLE 💞💞”

”I’m so happy! I’ve gotta thank him!”

you called your friend and barely gave him a chance to speak as you bursted with appreciation over the phone

he tells you he thought you and Saiki were a cute couple from when you introduced them to each other

so he got the spontaneous idea to put you two in his book!!

he explained that although it looked like you were just standing there with hearts over your heads (<3) you two were coming back from a dessert date!!

In a flash there was a smile on your face as you ran over to Kusuo once again to relay the message

he was rather fond of it considering that means he was eating coffee jelly 😎

”dang now he wants some..”

there was another scene where the main character passed a bakery and the items on sale in the window were coffee jelly and f/d!!!

the poster even read “coffee jelly and f/d are the finest together!~”

AWWWW SO CUTE!!

your shaking Kusuo and jumping up and down as you tell him about it!

he just sits there and lest it all happen with a faint smile 💖

he’s happy too of course

but your (literally) jumping with joy

often times after your friend finishes a chapter

you know how authors do that thing where they would put little doodles or facts at the end?

yeah he puts little chibi sketches of you and Kusuo doing cute couple stuff

one chapter will be chibi’s of you two holding hands

The next is you two on a date eating coffee jelly and f/d

it absolutely warms your heart 😭💝💝

you rant to Kusuo, your friends, your family, your author friend- EVERYBODY each time he does it

its so sweet of him!!

one time you put a detailed sketch of your author friend at the end of your chapter and he appreciated it so much!!

now it’s sorta just a back and forth thing between you two :3

This was such an adorable concept 😊💖

🏌️‍♀️

:3 (LOL)

87 notes · View notes

imaginesandbandfiction · 1 year

Text

Bejeweled — JJ Maybank

An Outer Banks Imagine

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Summary: After mourning the end of a two-and-a-half-year relationship, you're finally ready to get back out there. You get more than you bargained for with some guy.

Warnings: Underage drinking, brief mention of cheating

A/N: I started this wayyyy back in the fall when Midnights was first released and have just now gotten around to finishing it. I hope you like this silly little Taylor Swift-inspired fic!

Masterlist

You pat silver glitter on your eyelids, careful to keep it contained to below your crease, but it seems like your best friend doesn’t care about that because she jumps off of your bed and launches herself forward, wrapping her arms around your neck and squealing. The force of her hug makes you wobble, almost falling out of your chair.

“Sarah!” You shriek, “You’re going to make me mess it up!”

“Sorry! I’m just so excited that you’re finally coming out again,” she gushes, pressing a kiss to the side of your head before loosening her grip so she’s just standing behind you with her arms on your shoulders, looking at you through your reflections in your vanity mirror. “We should do a shot before we go.”

“I’ve got a bottle of Grey Goose under my bed. Just let me finish this quick.” You shove her off in the direction of your bed and wrap up your makeup with some lip gloss and a spritz of setting spray. When you turn around, Sarah has a solo cup in each hand and when you take yours, you see she’s poured double shots. After downing it and chasing it with a swig from the open bottle of wine you’ve been sipping on while getting ready, you and Sarah head out for the night.

Sarah’s boyfriend is waiting for you in the driveway, his beat-up old VW van in blatant contrast to the white brick mansion and manicured grounds surrounding it. You’ve met John B a few times, mostly in passing at parties, and once or twice at Sarah’s before everything fell apart and you had to avoid her house like the plague. But it’s been four months, and despite your underlying anxiety about seeing Rafe again, you’re excited to get drunk somewhere other than your bedroom again.

Sarah climbs into the passenger side and leans over to give John B a quick kiss and you duck into the back, rolling your eyes at your lovesick friend. Despite the fact that they’ve been together for over a year, they’re still in the honeymoon phase and showing no signs of that stopping.

You’re not jealous - you’re not - but it does suck to be the single person in the backseat, watching your best friend lit up with love. It doesn’t help that your ex is her brother, who you had dated for two and a half years before finding out that he had cheated on you. It was a horrible, messy breakup, made even messier because Sarah got caught in the middle.

It’s not the first party you’ve been to since the breakup (that honor goes to the one and only house party you had attempted to attend a month and a half ago before leaving after forty five minutes), but it is the first boneyard party since the breakup and that’s on a whole different level. The beach is sure to be so packed, you’ll have your pick of tourons to dance with. Maybe it’ll make Rafe jealous, or at the very least, it will help you get over him.

Sure enough, the party is in full swing when John B pulls up to the beach. The loud, thumping music rattles his old car and you’re glad to be able to scramble out of it before the bass drops and increases the intensity of the shaking. John B leads the two of you over to the keg and pours you both a beer.

“Thank you, sir,” you say, giving him a mock salute as he hands over the plastic cup. He just laughs and shakes his head at you, wrapping his arm around Sarah to pull her into his side.

“I’m glad you came out with us, Y/N,” he says, voice full of sincerity. It melts your heart a little bit, because he’s just such a good guy. You’re happy for Sarah, and it dulls the sting of your own unfortunate romantic life a bit.

“Me too!” Sarah squeals, reaching out to squeeze your free hand with her own. Before you can respond, someone calls John B’s name, so you follow him and Sarah across the beach to where a campfire is set up.

It turns out to be JJ Maybank who had called for him, sitting by the fire with Kiara Carrera and Pope Heyward. JJ stands up when he sees the three of you approaching and walks around the fire.

“Hey, man,” John B says, greeting him with that smooth high-five-fistbump combo that all boys seem to love.

“Hey, JB,” JJ says. He wraps an arm around Sarah, pulling her in for a side hug. “Sarah.”

“This is…” John B starts, gesturing towards you, but JJ puts up a hand to cut him off. In his other hand is a lit joint, which he takes a quick hit of before speaking.

“Y/N Y/L/N, I remember.” He slides his aviators down his nose and peers over the rims at you with a small smirk on his lips.

“Maybank,” you say, nodding at him. You had only met JJ once or twice in passing, but he was always nice enough. To you, at least.

“Y’know, you’ve got this, like, aura around you. It’s like… moonstone.” He takes another hit of the joint, dropping his gaze down your body and then back up to your face.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re, like, shimmery.” A laugh escapes your lips, bubbling out of you like an overflowing glass of champagne.

“Okay, buddy, I think you’ve had enough of that.” You reach over to pluck the joint out from between his fingers, raising it to your lips. Smoke fills your lungs and you inhale until it starts to burn a bit and then push it out in a steady stream. JJ’s eyebrows raise in a mixture of shock and appreciation when you repeat the action two more times. Then you feel a hand on your shoulder and turn around to find Sarah standing right behind you.

“We’re gonna go dance,” she says, raising her voice so you can hear her over the music. “You gonna be okay here?”

“Yeah, I’m good!” You assure her, glancing back at JJ out of the corner of your eyes.

When you turn back towards the fire, Pope and Kiara have disappeared, leaving you and JJ alone. You try not to read into that too much, but it’s hard because he’s a notorious womanizer. He’s also really fucking hot, in his backwards hat and cut-off Kildare Marina t-shirt, grinning at you with the flickering light from the fire dancing across his face, so you decide to say fuck it and give it a shot, even if it’s only for tonight.

“Wanna sit?” he asks, gesturing towards one of the logs of driftwood situated around the fire. You nod and plop down next to him, giving the joint back. He takes another hit and then turns to look at you.

“What?” You ask through nervous laughter as something that feels like butterflies flutters in your stomach. It’s been a long time since you’ve felt the type of giddy excitement that comes from a burgeoning crush, and it feels as good as it is scary.

“You’re pretty.” You roll your eyes at that pitiful excuse for a pick up line and take the joint back, turning to stare into the fire. He just shrugs.

“What? It’s true. I’ve always thought so.” He’s not teasing, just stating a fact, and it shocks you so much that you nearly drop the joint. Thankfully, he has quick reflexes and is able to catch your wrist in his hand before it can fall completely.

It’s almost gone, so the two of you pass it back and forth until it dwindles down to nearly nothing, sharing a companionable silence and soft, secret smiles. Then JJ tosses the roach into the fire and gets up, moving to stand in front of you.

“Dance with me?” He asks with a flicker of mischief behind his eyes, holding his hand out to you. You make him sweat for a few seconds, biting your lip to keep yourself from grinning, then nod and take his hand, allowing him to pull you up and lead you over to the makeshift dance floor.

You’re really starting to feel the impact of the weed, inhibitions lowering just enough to dull your senses to the outside world, and you let yourself sink into the pure, hedonistic pleasure of it. The feeling of the bass thumping deep in your chest, the slight press of JJ’s fingers against your hips as you move together in time to the music, the sticky, salty air that lays heavy around you.

Time passes, though you’re not sure how much, and the more you dance together, the bolder it makes you. At some point, you spin around so your back is to JJ and grind up against him. One of his arms wraps around your waist, pulling you tight to him, and he uses the other to brush your hair off your shoulders, dropping his head down to rest his chin in the dip of your exposed collarbone. Your eyes flutter shut and you let your weight sink back into his chest a bit. It’s broad and warm, and you feel safe, tucked against a boy you barely know in the middle of a sweaty crowd full of your peers, some of whom have been flashing confused looks your way all night.

You don’t care, though, because for once, your brain isn’t running on a constant loop of intrusive thoughts about Rafe Cameron and Bella fucking Bond. That is, of course, until the crowd parts in front of you, revealing Rafe flanked by Topper and Kelce. You take a tiny, half-step back, leaning into JJ for support. JJ’s arm tightens around your waist and he wraps his other one around your shoulders protectively. As the three Kook boys get closer, you realize that Rafe’s wearing the vintage Air Jordans you bought him for his last birthday, and you roll your eyes at his audacity to show up and accost you wearing shoes you gave him as a present.

“Hey, Y/N,” Rafe says, lips curled up in his trademark half-sneer, half-smirk. “I see your standards have lowered.”

“Just following your example,” you tell him, shrugging as much as you can with JJ’s arms around your shoulders.

“You’re making a big mistake, Y/N, one you won’t be able to come back from.” Rafe’s eyes are dark and his voice is low and gravely in warning.

“Hmmm. I don’t think I am. You can try to change my mind, but you gotta wait in line. My dance card’s full at the moment.” With that, you turn around in JJ’s arms so you’re facing him and press your lips to his. It’s a quick, forceful peck that you hope conveys yes I’m doing this to mess with Rafe but I also want to really kiss you so please just go along with it. You feel him smirk against your lips and your whole body relaxes, knowing that he’s on the same page.

When you turn around to look at Rafe, he’s spluttering, looking from you to Topper with wide eyes. You wink at him and push against JJ’s shoulders in a silent request to leave the dance floor. His arms slide down your body and he captures one of your hands in his, lacing your fingers together.

Without a word, the two of you leave the dance floor, ignoring the fact that everyone’s eyes are following you as you cross the beach. Your heart rate skyrockets as adrenaline pumps through your veins, adding to your high. You feel powerful, unstoppable, and when you’re far enough away from everybody else, a laugh escapes your lips.

“What’s so funny?” JJ asks, turning his head to raise his eyebrows at you.

You launch yourself into his arms and reconnect your lips, pouring your answer into the kiss. He stumbles back a few steps but then regains his balance and pulls you against him, arms tightening around your waist. After a few dizzying, breathless minutes, you pull back just enough to be able to take a deep breath. JJ’s eyes flutter open, diamonds shining behind his blue irises. He surges forward, recapturing your lips for a moment before trailing his own down your jawline.

“This okay?” He murmurs against your pulse point.

“Better than okay,” you breathe, tilting your head back slightly to give him better access.

“Better than okay?” He pauses for a second, lips hovering above the sensitive skin between your collarbone and shoulder.

“Yeah, it’s…nice.” You feel your cheeks heat up, embarrassed and excited and embarrassed about the excitement.

“Nice,” he agrees, lifting his head back up so your lips meet again. And it’s not really anything yet, but the first flickers of like burn in your stomach, and for the first time since your breakup there’s something like hope inflating your chest like it’s a balloon.

It’s nice.

339 notes · View notes