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#I had to fight myself to not stand up with a hand to my heart
al-ghoul · 8 months
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Watched "The Good, the Bad and the Ugly" today and the whole Tuco/Blondie relationship is just this meme for three hours, back and forth:
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Deeply, deeply divorced people xD
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dante-mightdie · 7 days
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Oh my, loved the last post on viking!Simon, made me a little angry and sad at the end tbh BUTTT im more than ready for the coming chapter. There will be a happy chapter next, right? Right??? (Hopefully he shows the other woman how much he loves his wife, and that she got no place anywhere close to him. Or I’ll have to hunt him down myself)
okay fine i’ll post some happy content
c/w: insecurities, angst/comfort, kissing, groping, crying
you were upset with him. that much was obvious. you had awoken the next day with the intention of not saying a word to him. his eyes bore into your back as you move around the kitchen to make breakfast, all the while he’s bouncing your oldest on his knee whilst they babble and watch you too
he eats the food you put in front of him, scarfing it down whilst you feed your children. he stands from the table, saying goodbye to the children placing and placing a hand on your shoulder to give it an gentle squeeze
your eyes well up slightly as you turn your head away from him. he leaves soon after that with a heavy sigh and a mention of being home late tonight which just adds to your poor mood
you feel like your own brain is turning on you, tricking you into believing all these nasty things that are just making you feel awful. whispers in your ear that maybe he’s not attracted to you anymore which is why he spends so much time around the pretty healer
perhaps he wasn’t happy with how your body had changed after childbirth and no longer wished to sleep with you. or maybe he never loved you at all and you had just been convincing yourself that he held love in his heart for you
all these things weighted themselves to your shoulders for the remainder of the day. since giving birth to your second baby, you’ve been run off your feet at home. especially since your first child is learning to crawl. the lack of sleep and attention from your husband was clawing at your brain
simon didn’t arrive home until late in the evening, once both you and the children were bathed in bed. well, the children were in bed, sound asleep. you were sat up in bed, knees pulled to your chest as you sobbed quietly. you hadn’t even heard him come home or walk up the stairs
a frown tugged at his face as he watched you break apart. he had never seen you look so distraught and he couldn’t believe he was the cause of it. he takes a step forward, silently crouching down next to the bed and placing a hand on your shoulder
your head shoots up, bloodshot and teary eyes looking into his own. the panic softens once you realise it’s him but you still turn away from him, wiping away your tears with the back of your hand
“you don’t need to cry over a small fight.” he says in a gruff but quiet tone. you shake your head, lip quivering again but you stop yourself from breaking down
“i’m not crying because of the fight, simon…” you whisper, looking down at your lap. “I’m crying because… because you don’t love me anymore.”
you break down into small sobs towards the end of your sentence, hiding your face in your hands. simon feels his heart crack slightly in his chest, an affect that no one else but you had been capable of doing
he takes a hand over to grip your chin, turning your head so you’re looking at him. you still look beautiful to him like this, warmed cheeks and glossy eyes. “who said I no longer love you?”
you try and look away from his narrowed eyes but he keeps his grip on your chin firm. you sniffle slightly and fiddle with your fingers, “no one. I just-“
“Then why are you so certain that I don’t love you? Is it not enough that I worship the ground that you walk on? that I have literally killed for you?” he asks, eyes searching yours for an answer
you sniffle softly, chewing on your bottom lip nervously. “since our second child, you’ve been so distant. I… I know I don’t look as good as a I did before our children but I-“
“enough. I won’t hear this kind of talk about my wife.” he silences you, using his grip on your jaw to pull your face to his and plant a sweet kiss on your lips. “when we married, I made a promise to hurt anyone who tried to harm you. if that means I have to torture myself everyday to make up for making you feel this away about yourself, then so be it.”
your lip quivers as he mumbles apologies to your lips, his hands moving to grip your soft hips and pull you into his lap. you whimper out soft moans as his hands grope anywhere they can reach, your form had become much softer during motherhood and he adores the look on you
“I will always worship you, I could never fault the body that gifted me two wonderful children. All I think about is keeping you this way, soft and round with my kids. you’ve never looked so beautiful to me.”
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strawberrysturniolo · 4 months
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goal // hockey!chris
summary: your boyfriend gets in a fight during his hockey game
part two
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“SHIT!” I scream as the opposing team launches the puck into the goal. With some miracle, it’s pulled to the side goalpost, keeping the score at 2-2. 
I relax in my seat with my best friend sitting next to me, her tension releasing just as much as mine, maybe more, considering her boyfriend is the goalie. 
I watch as my boyfriend skates back onto the ice, tapping his stick three times to get my attention. 
I love you. 
I smile at him, watching as he races across the ice and steals the puck from his opponent. 
In retaliation, that player slams Chris into the boards in front of me. My eyes widen at the sound of the impact, but my boyfriend skates backwards unscathed. 
“We still on for dinner tonight?” he asks me in the middle of his game. 
I nod, trying my best not to distract him. 
We met when my best friend took me to her boyfriend's hockey banquet. It was hard not to be captivated by Chris. He checked all the right boxes and captured my attention with ease. I wanted to know everything about him.
We talked the whole night, then hung out in groups until we finally had the courage to go on a proper date. He kissed my cheek when he dropped me off at my apartment across our college campus, a complete sweetheart in the palm of my hands. 
We started dating after a few months, taking everything really slow, especially with the chaos of our own college schedules and him having to travel for his games. 
Chris skates next to his brothers, Sturniolo stitched into three jerseys standing next to each other as their coach speaks with them during their timeout. 
I look at Chris’ hand, sticking out behind him. He has his hand out with his middle and ring finger down, signing I love you.
“You guys are just too cute, aren’t you?” my best friend teases me. 
My cheeks burn red, a smile on my face that I can’t shake off. 
A power play is set up right next to where we’re sitting. I always find this so interesting. I can hear everything the players say to each other. 
“Who’s little girlfriend is there in the green?” someone says. 
I know they’re talking about me, so I immediately scan Chris’ face to see what he says. He doesn’t respond, but his jaw is locked and his eyes are burning into the other player. 
I watch Chris’ brother, Matt, charge into our view, stealing the puck away and attempting to shoot. It’s another lost cause. This goalie has saved the last 10 shots. 
“Oh, Jesus,” my friend groans. “Look at Chris.”
I scan the ice for my boyfriend, finding the number 3 and following his every move. He follows the player with the last name Hart like a shark. I can’t hear anything, but I can see the anger on Chris’ face, and the humor on Hart’s. Finally, I watch Chris hit his breaking point. 
With seven minutes left in the game, Chris races across the ice to Hart, despite the fact that his other brother, Nick, is already playing defense on him. Chris slides in front of his brother, cross-checking Hart. 
“Are you kidding me?!” I hear a shout from behind me. 
Eventually, the area around us erupts in cheers. Students from our school rise on their feet, jumping up and down, cheering on Chris as he picks a fight. 
Sticks are thrown, and the referees stand in shock as Chris lays sprawled on top of Hart, regaining his balance before throwing punches at his helmet. 
My heart is pounding, but I know better than to react and embarrass him. He knows how to be safe on the ice, and he knows his limits way better than I do. Not to mention, everyone loves Chris. Our school gathers just for him and his brothers, cheering them on at every game. The last thing I want is to embarrass him or his reputation. 
“I’LL KILL YOU!” Chris roars, and at that, the referees finally get involved. It’s useless. While two referees hold onto him, another player from the opposing team runs up to defend Hart, throwing a punch at Chris’ jaw. 
“Hey!” I find myself jumping up and yelling. I watch as the blood starts to pour from Chris’ nose, and now that there’s blood involved, I feel every bit of anxiety bubbling up in my chest. “Someone do something!”
Chris continues to get nailed, slurring out profanities as he expresses his anger. 
“Do NOT talk about her!” he screams one last time as he’s dragged off the ice, his brothers eyeing down everyone else in case it’s their turn to throw a punch. 
“Christopher Sturniolo, five minute penalty for fighting,” an announcer says over the speaker, repeating the same spiel for Hart. 
I grab my bag and stand from the bleachers. “I’m gonna go meet him outside the locker room.”
I say goodbye to everyone and head to the locker room, wanting to know more about this fight, but more importantly, that he’s okay. 
About 20 minutes later I see Chris walking with his coach, his nose mixed with some fresh and some dried blood. When his coach notices me standing outside of the locker room, picking at my fingers, he says, “I’ll see you tomorrow at practice.”
Chris nods, walking right past me and into the locker room. I’ve already seen everyone else leave, so I know it’s safe to go in, but seeing that he completely ignored me, I don’t think a few guys in there would be enough to keep me from entering. 
“So you’re just picking fights and ignoring me now?” I scoff. 
“I don’t want to talk about it,” he mumbles, tearing his padding off and shoving it into his hockey bag. 
I watch as he pulls his shirt off, his toned back facing me. 
I find myself becoming embarrassingly distracted and forgetting what I’m actually in here for.
“Do you still want dinner?” I ask quietly, my voice timid. 
Chris sighs and places his hands on the sides of his locker, the muscles in his back tensing. “Where do you want to go?”
I shrug even though I know he can’t see me. It’s like I’m too nervous to say anything in case he gets mad at me over something that happened during the game. 
When I don’t answer, he turns around, finding nothing but concern painted all over my face. 
He sighs again, this time one that tells me that he’s sorry without actually saying it. His arms wrap around me, his bare chest bracing my clothed one. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles into my hair as he kisses my head. 
“What happened?” 
He breathes out a laugh, tossing his shirt into his locker. “Johnny Hart happened, that piece of shit.” 
I don’t ask for more information. The dam has now broken and I know the water carrying the information is going to come flooding in. 
“He’s known for being a top tier trash talker, but it takes it way too fucking far,” he tells me. “I mean, talking about my family, my girlfriend–Fuck!”
I flinch at the sound of him shouting. “What did he say about me?”
He shakes his head. 
“Tell me,” I plead. 
“No!” he shouts again. “God, just– Go wait outside. I’ll be out in a minute and we can go get something to eat.”
“I want to know what he said!” 
“He’s a dick! Go wait outside,” he demands, but my feet are planted to the floor. I refuse to back down. “Are you seriously going to do this?”
“Yes!” I argue. 
“Fine!” he gives in. He takes a deep breath. “He was just saying disgusting things about you the whole time. Talking about your legs, how he wanted to see what you had under your pants.” I watch as his jaw tightens again. “He said he wanted to see if he could make you wetter than I can. That he would take you after the game and pin you against his car… Is that enough for you?”
I can see his face turning red, his anger bleeding out of him. It’s at this moment that I can also see that his face is still a bloody mess, and that matters more to me than what some idiot on the other team has to say about me. 
Without a word, I walk to the sinks, grab a rag that has been folded up and get it damp with warm water. I motion for Chris to sit down on a bench in front of his locker, and when he does, I start gently dabbing his mouth with the rag. 
He gives me a soft smile, and as cute as that is, my focus is on his bloody teeth. 
“Oh, baby,” I mumble. I find a bottle of water buried in his bag so he can rinse his mouth, and continue cleaning his face. “Are your hands okay?”
“Mhm,” he hums. “Had my gloves on.” 
I nod, remaining silent as I wipe the blood from his mouth and give him somewhere to spit the bloody water. 
“Coach is pissed,” he laughs lightly. 
“I’m not surprised.”
“He was already getting on me about my grades, and with this… I gotta get it together or he’s benching me.”
We both know that his coach will fight anyone to make sure Chris stays on the starting team. He’s the best player this college has seen in years.
“I can tutor you again,” I offer. “I have time before work on Friday’s.”
He shakes his head at me. “I don’t want to put that on you.” 
“I wouldn’t have offered if it would have been an inconvenience.”
He nods, then rests his hands on my waist, eventually pulling my wrists down to remove my hands from his face. 
“I’m sorry,” he says sincerely. 
“I know.”
“I just…” his voice trails off. “I can’t stand it when they do that shit. I know you’re a catch because… come on,” he motions his hands at me, making me laugh. “I just can’t sit there and pretend like I’m not bothered by it.” 
“I get it,” I assure him, trying to relieve the part of him that feels like he’s letting people down. “Let’s just get those grades up and try to tone back on the fighting, okay?”
He nods, this time smiling with a lot less blood in his teeth. He pulls me down to his level, resting me on his lap before holding my cheeks and kissing me gently. “I love you.”
A smile grows on my face. “I love you more.”
His eyes go wide. “Enough to fight Hart’s girlfriend for me?”
I let out a short laugh. “Let’s go get something to eat.” 
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astonmartingf · 2 months
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GREEDY ; SV5
sebastian vettel x interviewer!reader
. . . at the height of his career all vettel wants is to win. with four world championships on his back, his ego- out of the world, surely that's enough for a room in your life.
amgf i forgot to add this but!!! implied smut but no actual scene, yay! the first post in the main is greedy 😤✊ i love how this turned out, wrote it in one sitting too hahahaha i'm enjoying myself way too much, i hope you do to <3
death of a bachelor ; masterlist
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“Nervous?” 
You walk out from the ensuite bathroom, finding the blonde German tangled up in the sheets, in that post-sex afterglow, hair- a sweaty mess, breaths labored, and eyes closed in blissed. It was indeed a sight to see, you’re proud, what can you say?
“Why would I be nervous?” Sebastian raises his eyebrows as you move closer to him, kissing his head before scooting in between the sheets.
“Your retirement? The media? My upcoming questions for the tribute?” 
Seb’s laughter filled the hotel room, wrapping his arms around yours, “Can’t let me catch a break can you?” he whispers in your ears, hands lingering lower your stomach.
You shake your head, fighting the smile growing on your face, “Need to keep you on your toes. Whatever will happen to that ego of yours if I praise you easily.”
Seb shrugs, “Understandable, I mean you praise me enough in bed, I think I will bust a nut if you praise me there and then in press interviews.”
Scoffing, you stand up, slapping his arms playfully- “You need to control that mouth of yours, it’s funny how you haven’t slipped up yet. About this, y’know.”
Grabbing your cheeks, Sebastian pulls you in for a kiss, “Can’t. Wouldn’t dare even. What’s mine is mine, and you are mine. There’s no way I’m telling.”
Lifting yourself, you straddle on his thighs, “You’re not that good at hiding either, other drivers are asking.” 
Peppering kisses on your neck, Sebastian groaned at the thought of the other drivers going to interviews with you. “Don’t remind me. I saw your interview with Lewis, and people are liking it way too much. Now I need to think of some snarky comment to turn all the attention back to you and me.”
A moan escapes your lips, laughter filled in between as you throw your head, back arching closer to Seb’s. “You’re insufferable.”
“I’m greedy. And I’m yours.”
You hum, letting Seb play with your thighs, “Is that why you brought me with you to Silverstone?”
“There’s nothing wrong with an early celebration right?”
You laugh, “Is that what we’re doing? Celebrating?”
Sebastian stops, pushing you back to the bed. Staring at his eyes, you see the hunger and determination inside them.
“Celebrating for the rest of our lives. Fuck, you’re driving me crazy liebe.”
sebastianvettel5
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liked by interviewyln, lewishamilton, and 2,483,632 others
sebastianvettel5 how it started ten years ago and how it's going. retirement has never been better, all the things i want i have, and of course with you interviewyln
it took me a long time to even comprehend that i ended up with you. i was jealous, childish, and greedy. thank heavens that you gave me a chance, and here i am ten years later.
after my first interview with you, i knew i had to make the best first impression. who would've thought banter and snarky comments would lead us together.
and now, i wouldn't have it any other way with you and now with our daughter. i love you so much, thank you for being with me at my worst, and in the best times.
liebe, you'll always be in my heart.
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intervieweryln honey, thank you so much. i wouldn't have it any other way. through the thick and thin, we'll be together. i love you so much seb.
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plutoswritingplanet · 2 months
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It's A Special Death You Saved (Feyd Rautha Harkonnen x Female!Reader) pt.1
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a/n: i had a "no bald men" rule before he licked a knife... so y'all know my priorities are in order. Cross-Posted on AO3
Warnings: Dub-Con (as per usual), Arranged Marriage, Reader is an Atreides (it's just such a good prompt i couldn't help myself),
Summary: A month-long engagement to the na-Baron Harkonnen makes you question, whether a marriage can bloom on the grounds of hate. Loosely based on "Special Death" by Mirah.
Pt.2, Pt.3 Pt.4 (finale)
The message comes from the Emperor himself. An indisputable order that renders your Father speechless. You've never seen him quite as distraught, as when he has visited you in your chambers to deliver the news. Hands fidgeting, eyes refusing to meet yours, heavy shadows falling across his face. He seems to expect your reaction, not giving you as much as a flinch, when you scream your protests at him. And he should've expected as much, you were always the more impulsive of Duke Leto's children. 
- But the Harkonnens are beasts - you argue, voice breaking - You've said it yourself, many times.
- Actually, I think that was Gurney...
- You've never denied it!
And he doesn't deny it now, head hung low. Never, not once in your life, have you seen your Father give up. Until today. 
Your Mother enters just a few seconds after him, her dress flowing around her ankles as if she had floated in on a cloud. She stands to the side of your bed, hands folded, and an impassive expression embedded onto her features. And the more she speaks of the centuries of breeding, the importance of an union and the powers beyond your understanding, the less you see of your mother. What stands before you, instead, is a Bene Gesserit sister, veiled in schemes and dark plans, which were in the making before you were even born. You curse yourself for not noticing this stranger sooner, and storm off, out of your room, your shawl blowing out behind you like bat wings.
Paul doesn't visit you, but you can hear him, even through the effort of swallowing down your tears. He fights for you against your Father. He would fight for you against the whole Empire if he had to, and your heart swells, as he throws a particularly nasty curse into the air of your Father's study. It doesn't change anything. According to the decree of the Emperror, the oldest daughter of the Duke Leto Atreides will marry Feyd Rautha, an heir to the Baron Harkonnen. A centuries long dispute is about to be put to an end, and all thanks to the small sacrifice, which is your life. All would be well in the galaxy. Really, you should be honored, to be tasked with such a monumental peace treaty.
Everyone in the court seems to know about your situation. Mournful looks follow you, as you walk into the training barracks, ridding yourself of layers upon layers of flowing fabrics, leaving you in a rather tight costume, light enough to beat your frustrations out on someone.
Duncan Idaho meets your searching eyes, and you know he is aware as well. All it takes is one inclination of your chin, and he's up on his feet, sword in hand. Loyal as ever, he stands in front of you, watches with mixed feelings as you enable your shield, no questions asked. None needed. 
He barely has time to put his defenses up, when you charge at him, fury and despair pushing your movements into stances which are clumsy and ill though out. Still, there's power within your strikes, a strength of someone who needs to move, unless they break. So he lets you, for a couple of minutes. He dodges your attacks, pairing some of them, never moving quite into the offense.
The rest of the soldiers scurry off somewhere, for which you will be thankful in the future. They might hear your cries of anger, but they will not see you break. They will not see the way your blade smashes into Duncan's shield over and over again, with no regard for the slow attacks, which would penetrate it. Likewise, they don't see your sparring partner fall to his knees and swipe you off your feet in a split-second movement, making you hit the floor with a frustrated snarl. And they don't see you finally give up, and cry, hugging your blade to your chest, the severity of your circumstance falling onto you, crushing you down.
- Never fight in anger, Princess - Duncan reminds you, voice cautious, and you growl at him like a wild animal - It dulls your instincts, makes you distracted.
- Did you know? - you demand, your sharp voice cutting through his half-assed lecture.
For a moment he looks truly remorseful. His eyes float around the room, and your heart sinks when he sighs deeply.
- I found out not long ago - he confesses - Your Father told me. 
Your blade slides against the floor as you throw it, a raw scream tearing through your throat. Duncan takes a step towards you, hand extended towards your shaking form. But, before he can attempt to touch you, you're up, rolling your shoulders forcefully. Tears stain your cheeks, and you wipe them roughly with the back of your hand, skin becoming irritated almost instantly. There are swords laid out on a small table, just beside you,  your fingers grip the cold handle so hard, your knuckles seem to creak under the pressure. Duncan readies himself as well, dusting off his trousers. 
He's not good at comforting, but he's the best at fighting, and if that's what you need in this cold morning, he'll oblige. 
- You'll make it through, you know - he says, his voice genuine, and you laugh without any mirth.
Your blades clash, faces coming closer as you absentmindedly notice small scars adorning his cheeks.
- You can adapt to anything - you strike against his shoulder, the shield pushes your blade away - We could send you to Arrakis right now, and a week later you'd be riding a damned Sandworm into battle.
To that, you laugh, this time your smile reaching your eyes. The idea is preposterous, but it renders your footsteps lighter, and you twist to dodge a nasty blow to the right arm. Duncan huffs a laugh as well, as you slip through his fingers. He points his blade in your direction, a smirk playing across his lips, and you bare your teeth in a playful display of wildness.
- Careful, Princess, you might scare your betrothed away - Duncan teases, as you roll your dagger in your hand.
- Scare a damned Harkonnen? Do you find me that intimidating? - the idea thrills you just a little bit, you're woman enough to admit it.
- I think you're fucking terrifying.
- Duncan Idaho, you better not be swearing at my Daughter.
Your face falls immediately, as your Father approaches the two of you, shooting Duncan a stern gaze which holds no real threat. Still, your sparring partner raises his hands, his blade tucked away safely into his belt. There's sweat clinging to your skin from all the training, mingling with drying tears on your cheeks, and Duke Leto tries very hard not to comment on your choice of processing recent events. Still, he nods at you, and like a good daughter, you put your blade away, walking from the barracks after him. 
***
The Emperor has called for a traditional, Atreides engagement. A mercy, which you're eternally grateful for. You're not too aware of Harkonnen customs regarding marriage, but given the House's reputation, it couldn't have been pleasant. House Atreides however, took to such matters much more ceremonially, old-fashioned to some. 
Soon, a ship is arriving, with your betrothed onboard, and a month-long courting period willcommence. After that, official engagement and soon after, a wedding. Then, you will be transported back on Geidis Prime, where a life of misery awaits. That's all the time you have. A month.  
The dress, which was picked out for you, is uncomfortable and shows both too much and too little skin at the same time. While your legs are bare and exposed to an almost scandalous degree, a high, stiff collar nearly chokes the life out of you. This whole getup was the idea of your mother, as an attempt to highlight your best features and hide all that might be considered less desirable. 
You have no idea what's wrong with your neck. Perhaps, by cutting off your airflow, your mother aimed to keep you docile. 
She frowns deeply as you tug on the fabric, nerves climbing up your spine, growing more desperate every second. She swats at your hand, and you throw her a look. Out of the corner of your eye Paul smiles at your antics, your only consolation in this hopeless place. 
- Stop fidgeting, you'll tear the dress - Lady Jessica scolds you, and you can sense actual worry underlining her stern voice.
The Harkonnen ship slowly glides into the atmosphere of your home planet, a black, awful thing. Like all things on Geidis Prime, dark and miserable. Soon, you'll join them, adorned in equally black and lifeless clothing, never to see your family again. Never to see the Ocean. Your nails bite into the collar of the dress, you can hear a stitch tear.
- Stop that.
Your hands fall uselessly against your body, as your mother uses the Voice on you. Wouldn't be the first time, you were quite the unruly daughter and Lady Jessica was determined to make a Lady out of you no matter the means. Still, this time, the unnatural tone feels more like a panicked plea,  than a light-hearted scolding. 
- Relax Mother - your voice is sharp, despite the slight tremble - In a months time I'll be gone from here forever, stuck in some blackened cell, wistfully sighing "ooh" "aah".
You place your hand on your forehead in a dramatic display of doubtful acting abilities. When you were younger, your mother would laugh at you, as you enacted scenes from romance books. You would throw yourself at a nearby piece of furniture, pretending to be some wronged lover, or an unhappy bride waiting for someone to liberate her. And your mother would clap her hands, thoroughly entertained.
Today however, she doesn't even crack a smile.
- I don't expect you to be happy about all this - she whispers - But I do expect you to wear your grief with some grace.
A slap would've been kinder, you think, and stare ahead, as the Harkonnen ship opens, and a group of people dressed in black spill out of it like ants from a drowning anthill. Your heart is thrumming hard in your chest, and your hand reaches out, despite all your apprehension, towards your mother. A force of habit, to search consolation within her disregarding the fact, that it was her meddling that put you here. 
Her fingers lace with yours, thumb stroking your palm in an attempt to soothe you. 
Immediately, you know which one of the bald headed Harkonnen is your betrothed. 
He's much taller than you, an imposing figure even despite his rather lean built. His skin is almost completely white, as expected, his teeth are blackened out, as expected as well, and his eyes are bearing into you with an intensity so oppressing, you almost look away. Almost. 
- I present to you, Feyd Rautha, the na-Baron of House Harkonnen. 
The pale man steps forward, releasing you from his gaze for only just a moment, to trade pleasantries with your Father, who looks beyond miserable as he fixes your soon-to-be husband with a tired look. Then, Feyd Rautha is brought before you.
There's grace to his movements you did not expect, as he pushes his black cloak aside, and kneels in front of you. Harkonnen were known for their bulky ruthlessness, but this one... This one reminded you of a panther, the way his eyes travelled the length of your body, full lips pulling upward into a barely noticable smirk. 
Customs, you remind yourself, as your mother's hand squeezes your fingers. You don't want to let her go, but you do, slowly, with so many mixed thoughts rattling around your brain, it makes your head swim. 
Feyd Rautha grabs your extended hand in such a gentle manner, you're almost convinced the Harkonnens have shaved some poor bastard and dropped him off instead of the real na-Baron. Then, he lifts your palm up, until his lips press against your fingertips, a gesture so tender, your heart does a flip in your chest. And then, it stops all together, when his grip on your palm tightens, and he pulls your hand closer, to kiss it properly. As if he can't help himself, he looks up at you, and you realize. 
You almost got yourself caught, but reading people's intentions have been taught to you as fervently as reading texts, and you can see right through this facade of chivalry. There's darkness in this man, a swirling void, which brings a wave of cold fear upon you. This cunning, depraved creature will soon enough become your husband, and you'll be stuck with him forever. How long will he keep up this impeccable appearence? Was this performence for you, your Father, his own twisted fun, or all the things combined?
With a furrowed brow, you tear your hand out of his grasp, a full body shiver running up your spine at the sight of his self-satisfied smirk. He drinks up your reactions like a man parched, and you fight hard to put on a mask of indifference, as he rises from his knees to stand before you in all his imposing glory.
***
You can feel his eyes follow you, as the welcome committee retreats into the Palace. He doesn't let you out of his sight throughout the feast, which takes place immediately after his arrival, and even now, as he gets ready to "entertain" the court by indulging in some barbaric ceremony of his, his eyes are trained only on you. 
It's uncomfortable, to say the least, having him stare at you, while you sit surrounded by your family, who, for the most part, say nothing. Except Paul. Your dear baby brother, your protector in all this madness. As Feyd Rautha throws his coat to the side, showing off his (admittedly impressive) muscles, Paul leans towards you.
- He looks like a hard boiled egg, don't you think sister? - he whispers and subsequently ends your vow of silence. 
The giggle you let out is caught quickly by everyone around, your betrothed included, before you press an open palm against your lips. 
- Behave - your mother warns, and you try, you really do.
But in the serene light of the fading sun, your soon-to-be husband's head does look frighteningly egg-ish. God, you'll get yourself killed, before the wedding ceremony is even resolved if you keep this up.
You're seated high in an outdoor theater. One of your grandfather's favorite places, where he used to dance with bulls for sport. Where he met his demise.
Feyd Rautha presents his knives to you and your family, their blades glint ominously in the setting sun. Again, you are struck with the sheer grace this man exudes. His movements, despite being forceful and wild, have a beauty to them, as if he was rehearsing ancient dance moves, rather than killing blows.
And, despite your brother's earlier comment, there is something enticing in the way his pale skin catches the rays of bleeding sunshine, slowly creeping towards the horizon. He's almost beautiful, almost handsome enough to consider. 
The thought leaves your head almost immediately, as the Harkonnen servants bring in his apparent opponent. Your heart drops to your stomach at the sight of a beaten, dark skinned warrior. Immediately you recognize a Fremen, you've read so much about them in your free time. You know how they filter water, what they eat, how they move through the sands, and despite your knowledge you can't fathom, why this poor man has been brought here. 
At your side, Paul shifts in his seat, all jokes leaving him in a hurry. The both of you watch, as the man you're promised to toys with a clearly drugged victim. Slashes bloom on the prisoners skin, blood sprays in the air. You refuse to look away, to show such weakness, even as Feyd Rautha grabs the poor man by his hair and with a forceful push impales his throat on the blade. Blood pours down onto the sand, paints the Harkonnen's face and chest a deep shade of red.
It's a brutal display of power, of cruelty and wildness the Harkonnens are known for. Suddenly, everything Gurney has warned you about, while training your fighting skills, rings like a thousand of bells in your ears. This is who you will marry, who you will spend your entire life with. 
You swallow down an urge to throw up, and stand up from your seat. 
The show must go on, you think, throwing your Mother one, venomous look, trying to force her to understand your pain. Then, you lock eyes with your betrothed, who watches you from below with a cruel smile, blackened teeth on full display. You meant to congratulate him, to play the part as instructed, but you can do nothing of the sort. Instead, you stare back at him, disgust flowing from your features like a broken faucet. 
Lady Jessica opens her mouth, but before she can, without a doubt, scold you again, you're out of the seating area, your footsteps echoing in the halls. 
Once you're sufficiently tucked away from prying eyes, your back hits the wall, and you allow yourself feel the luxury of unbridled panic. Your breathing comes out in fast, shallow pants, as cold sweat forms on your forehead. Thoughts racing, your fingers tangle into your hair, tugging at the roots. This is your future, the only future waiting for you, and it's filled wth pain and blood.
- Have you enjoyed the fight, my Lady? - you immediately know it's him, despite not hearing him speak before.
A gasp of surprise leaves you before you can catch it, and your back straightens almost painfully fast. 
There he stands, tall and lean, and terrifying. Blood still decorates his torso creating a contrast that is both terrifying and hypnotizing. He watches you, curiosity and humor swirling behind his eyes. You can't decide whether they are completely blackened out, or if they hold a blue, almost serene hue. 
- No - you answer, finding your voice entirely too shaky for your liking - I did not enjoy it.
He laughs, a guttural, low sound that makes the hair stand at the back of your neck. You know he wouldn't dare try anything here, right under your Father's nose while the engagement is still in the making. Yet, as you stand frozen, just you, him and the marble walls around you, dread finds home in the pit of your stomach.
- Was that man Fremen? - you ask, partially to fill the silence, partially because you're genuinely curious.
The man shrugs, you can see muscles moving under his white skin. He takes a step towards you and you will yourself not to run.
- Sometimes we bring a couple of captured desert rats home - he explains with a nonchalant tone - Mostly for entertainment.
The almost bored intonation he uses to describe this barbaric ritual makes something boil deep inside you. 
- That's cruel - you counter, emotions flowing freely onto your face, much to the man's delight - To deny those men the honor of dying on their home planet. To drag them into a completely foreign place, just to kill them for sport, like some animals... It's...
- Some of them live - he cuts you off, taking another couple of steps towards you, but in your growing outrage, you barely notice - Our brothels are filled with Fremen whores.
Your face twist into an expression of utter repulsion, and Feyd Rautha raises his eyebrows in a pathetic mask of confusion, almost childlike giddiness lighting up his eyes as he looks down at you.
- Oh, don't give me that look, my Lady. - he cooes, and you've never felt a stronger urge to slap the daylights out of someone - I know for a fact there are brothels on your planet filled with hungry soldiers.
- Yes - you bark back at him - but the people there are working prostitutes, not slaves!
He shrugs, looking somewhere to the side of your face.
- A waste of money, if you'd ask me.
- Good thing no one has - there's venom in your voice, and your betrothed sucks a breath through his teeth.
You curse yourself for leaving your dagger, for not concealing it somewhere in this ridiculous dress, because the way the Harkonnen's expression shifts freezes blood right in your veins. 
He looks at you, amusement tugging at the corners of his lips, while something much darker lurks in his eyes. His bloodied hand comes up, finger making contact with the exposed skin of your shoulder. You can feel the thick liquid stick to your flesh, as he drags his hand down, painting you, marking you.
- You're quite the little viper, my Lady.
Watching him silently, you don't respond. Don't know how to, when he closes the distance between your bodies enough to make you feel the heat radiating off of his chest, while the smell of blood and sweat completely assaults your senses. It's sickening, the way he looks at you, like you're a new toy, just waiting to be unpacked and destroyed by too eager hands. 
- My Uncle, the Baron, has instructed me, to be the utmost gentleman to you. To woo you completely - his voice is low, barely above a whisper, as he grins down at you - But I just can't lie to my future wife like that, can I?
He leans closer and finally, you take a step back, sliding out of his space, assessing a cautious stance. His hand almost follows you, the skin of your shoulder feels conflictingly cold without him.
- Once we're wed, I will possess you completely - this time you stand your ground, as he approaches, circling you like a lion stalking it's prey - And then...
He leans down beside you, shoulder to your shoulder, close enough for you to feel his hot breath graze your ear.
- Like the bull that took your grandfather's life, I shall pierce you.
The violent innuendo doesn't slip past you, and with hatred brewing behind your eyes, you look straight at him, forcing your fear to lay dormant. 
- You're disgusting.
- And you're blushing like a lovely, virgin bride should - he concludes, sending an awful wink your way, before withdrawing from you completely. 
Your veins burn hot, as you watch him leave, a selfish confidence painting his steps, and you beg every God in existence to grant you a sword in your hand. Or a dagger. A kitchen knife would do as well. Anything, that would help you cut this unbeatable, patronizing, infuriatingly handsome smirk from Feyd Rauthas face.
Alas, you're left with nothing, only a small glimmer of hope dangling in front of you, after your damned betrothed's words fully register in your brain.
A bride you might be, but certainly not a virgin one. Duncan Idaho made sure of that many years ago. The thought makes you smile, despite nerves wreaking havoc in your body. At least that's the one thing Feyd Rautha won't be able to take from you.
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lvlyghost · 11 months
Text
The Things I Never Said: Part 2
Pairings: Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader
Summary: upon learning about your pregnancy simon thinks there are things he needs to take care of.
Word Count: 1.2k
Tw: Angst, fluff, hurt with a lot of comfort, banter. The task force is there for you💞 i think that's it✨
A/N: here it is, i never planned a second part so forgive me if it's not as good! Still hope you like it. Already working on a request that's similar to this one🐸✨ thank you so much for all the support. Reblogs and comments are appreciated! Remember english isn't my first language, corrections are welcome🩵
Masterlist✨ | Part 1 | Part 3
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Simon pulls you closer to his body, one arm draped over your form and hand resting on your stomach. The storm is raging outside, the thunder startles you every five minutes. You stay there in complete silence as the realization of this whole thing settles in your minds. He wants you to be safe now more than ever that's why when he's reliving the events of the day it hits him. He had thought the worst, that you were abandoning him, that you got tired of him. Simon would never say this to you but losing you would be the end of him. Enraged and with his heart racing he had hopped on his motorcycle. The soft caressing of his fingers stops abruptly, body going rigid behind you. You turn your face in worry.
"Simon?" You call him. You were beginning to fall asleep. "What is it?"
"That fuckin' muppet." He snarls. "I was so caught up in you leaving that I'd forgotten he hit you. That cunt... fucking Christ." He sits. "Let me see." He lifts your shirt just above your belly with gentle hands.
"Love, I'm... it's fine." Simon sucks in a sharp breath as his eyes land on the bruised area of your skin.
"What did the doctor say?" He demands, eyes somber.
"She said i should stay in bed for a few days and to not lift heavy things or you know just... overwork myself."
Simon rubs his eyes with the heel of his hands, disgruntled.
"This is on me... my bloody fault"
"Hey, stop now." You stand up, coming to a sitting position to mirror his stance. "You didn't know." Soft hands fall on both sides of his face. "I should've told you before this happened, if anything this is on me."
"If something happened to you i would never forgive myself, kid. Lie down. You need to rest. I'll be here when you wake up."
-
Simon's been waiting for this day since the incident. You're still at home, recovering from what could've ended with you in a hospital bed and a broken heart.
"You sure about this, Sir?" Gaz asks, worried about what might happen. "It's just training right?"
"Just training." Simon's eyes are set on that bastard. Craning his neck he steps on the sparring mat. As much as he wanted to go find him and kill him he couldn't do such thing. But after the images that flooded his mind made him realize how dangerous it had been. What could potentially have happened the rage within him is boiling his blood. And now he needs somebody to pay the price. Choices have consequences and he nearly had a painful one. If he had insisted just more...
Breathing harshly he looks him in the eye. Poor muppet doesn't know what's coming for him. He stands there confidently, thinking he has a chance against Ghost. Not Simon, the man only she gets the chance to see.
This is Ghost about to fight.
-
For some reason you decided to stop by the local pastry shop and bring something for the task force. You're feeling much better so that's why you're walking down the corridor of the military compound. With a shirt that's nearly too oversized a pair of combat boots and a cap. You figured you could have these outside of the base and enjoy a nice day with your teammates. You missed them already. Since Simon had been reluctant to leave your side, and you loved it that's for sure, but he wouldn't let you do much as simple tasks like washing the dishes or doing the laundry.
Walking past the doors you're greeted with loud cheering and yelling at the two men in the middle of the mat. Your smile quivers until you process the scene in front of you. Not surprised, not worried. He's gonna be just fine. The other poor boy... Price is the first to notice you, approaching you in three long strides. He had decided to stop by and watch, that's how they sort things out.
"Here, let me help you with that." He takes most of the desserts from your hands, scrutinizing your features with slight concern. Your eyes glued to Simon's hulking body. "I'm gonna assume he doesn't know you're here. Shouldn't you be resting?"
"I'm not on duty, Captain."
"I'm not asking as your Captain but as a friend."
You turn to face him with the ghost of a smile on your lips.
"I'm feeling better so I wanted to see you all, maybe we could have these together as soon as Simon is done with his personal grudge."
Price chuckles. Reluctant to see the rest of the fight, you keep talking to John until it comes to an end. More cheers and clapping echoing around the place. You take a quick glance and get a glimpse of the younger soldier limping while he plops down on a near bench, his teammates gathered around him holding a towel out for him to clean up his face. Footsteps approach you and Price, Simon's frowning behind the mask you can tell by the way the corner of his eyes wrinkle.
"Hey little lady!" Soap greets you with a big smile, hugging you tightly. "Heard you got all knocked up!"
"For fucks sake, Johnny!" Gaz scolds him. "Have some more respect for the girl."
Johnny rolls his eyes feigning annoyance letting Kyle hug you too.
"Don't bet mad at him. We all know why he had to do it." He whispers before pulling away.
When Simon joins you, you're aware of what's coming.
"You're out of bed." He points out, blankly.
"It's been almost a week. As long as I don't lift heavy things I'll be alright. Remember?" You speak back. You reach out for his hand and intertwine your fingers with his. The rest of the team silently walks away to the outside giving you some privacy. Simon studies you, all of you. There's a spark of worry in his blue eyes that you don't like. "Don't worry about me anymore."
He pulls you closer, arms wrapping around your shoulders as he inhales deeply.
"Is that my shirt, doll?" He asks in a hushed tone. You chuckle, burying your face in his chest.
"I missed you, and it smells like you." Simon prompts you softly to start walking outside and join the rest. "You're not hurt, are you?" You stare up at him.
"Don't you worry about me, he wasn't able to land one single hit, love."
You pull him down kissing over the black balaclava where his lips would be.
"I don't think I'll ever forgive myself for not telling you Simon." You sigh.
"I understand now why you didn't, kid. I'm not mad at you, I'm mad at myself for not making you feel safe enough to tell me. If anything I'm to blame."
"Is there any chance I may touch your belly?" Soap asks as soon as you sit down next to him.
"Yes." You reply with a wide smile.
"No." Simon growls at the same time.
"Jesus! I suppose that naming the child after me is also off the table?"
"Absolutely."
A round of laughs echoing around and along the backyard. Your eyes scanning every person gathered in this very moment. Loyalty, admiration, respect and love.
A family of your own that would soon get a new addition.
"What if it's a beautiful girl?" Gaz interrogates.
Everyone goes silent.
"Fucking hell." Simon whispers.
He's fucked.
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fluffylino · 5 months
Text
soft!hyunjin
you never liked arguments
-very fluffy, pure fluffiness
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water ran down your body. you didn't like this feeling that you felt. nothing made sense anymore. your mind was a mess.
arguments.
you despised it so much because of how your parents were.
unecessary. things could be cleared quietly without shouting and getting angry with eachother. it reminded you of your father. his harsh words. the shouting. the swearing. the silent treatment.
although what hyunjin did was minor. he would never curse at you or call you names regardless of whether he was annoyed.
what happened today was a mistake. it had escalated to the point that hyunjin was ignoring you. at this point you couldn't even blame him. maybe you were being emotional. but it did bring back bad memories of arguments.
you hadn't even realised your breath had got stuck in your throat. tears blurred your vision. your head felt light as the water became hotter. steam filling up the bathroom.
"baby!" hyunjin yelled, kicking the door open. you hadn't even heard him. his hand tugged you out, before you could even comprehend anything.
"thank god you left the door unlocked. i was searching for you"
he pulled you flush against him. you couldn't hold your tears in anymore.
"I don't like this, i hate it" you sobbed out, shaking against hyunjin's body that was embracing you.
"i'm sorry, my angel...i'm so sorry my sweetheart" you could feel the pain in his voice. you couldn't help it. everything was triggering and you were unable to control your emotions.
"i don't want to fight. i can't...it hurts"
without caring, he pulled you out not bothering if you were naked. he sat you down on the counter near the sink. your legs dangled down, and he wasted no time to hug you. not bothering that his clothes were getting wet.
"its okay you're okay we're okay" hyunjin reassured, his arms wrapped around you. his fingers stroking your back.
"breathe baby..i'm here" he whispered, pulling his head back to wipe your tears.
"we're never arguing again" you shivered, suddenly hit with a cold draft. you wrapped your legs around his hips.
"im cold hyunnie" you muttered, voice cracking while pushing yourself against his body. he was warm and his soft shirt felt nice against your bare skin.
"lets shower together, hm" he suggested, hands steadily holding you. he rubbed your bare back soothingly. you couldn't bring myself to nod, instead opting to try and look at him.
his eyes were teary and his eyebrows furrowed with worry.
"my pretty baby, don't cry please. i'm sorry" he kissed your forehead.
"i'm so stupid. please forgive me." hyunjin softly pecked your nose.
a small gesture that made your heart hurt with how genuinely heart felt he was being. carefully he carried you, making you stand under the shower. it was perfect. you watched as he took his soaking wet shirt off and tugged his pants and everything else off. hurriedly stepping into the shower. to be as close to you as possible. his body pressed against yours in the misr intimate lovely way possible.
"my gorgeous darling" you cried harder when he cupped your face to place a chaste kiss on your lips.
"i'm sorry...i'm sorry for not talking to you. it was childish and dramatic of me to do that"
"i'm s-sorry too" you mumbled. maybe you were being a teeny weeny bit emotional.
"i'm the one whose sorry baby...you did nothing wrong"
another kiss to your face. the water was hot against your skin but his body provided you with a warmth that reached your heart.
"I love you so much, my love...please never forget that"
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dilemmaontwolegs · 6 months
Note
Would you write a dark and toxic romance fic?
For instance, Carlos Sainz has a girlfriend. F1 has an influencer program and invites a lingerie model to a race. Carlos is highly attracted to her, basically on his knees for her. She doesn't want to get involved and pushes him away. Carlos can't stop thinking about her and wants her more every time he sees her. He starts to try and seduce the model. She secretly enjoys his touch and pet names, dirty talks and etc., but stops him every time. Under some circumstance they finally fuck, Carlos is obsessed with making her feel pleasure. After that she's avoiding him but all Carlos wants is more of her. She even prohibits the driver from braking up with his gf. Carlos obey but in exchange wants the model to be his friend with benefits
**Not dark sorry**
Lady in Red (1) || CS55
Pairing: Carlos Sainz Jr x fem!reader Warnings: 18+ only, NSFW, smut, oral, cheating WC: 2.7k
One || Two || Three || Four
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You tried to resist him, you really did. You could honestly put a hand on your heart and swear you turned down the advances he made but he was persistent. 
“You’re riding with me, hermosa.” You jumped at the Spanish driver's voice in your ear, not realising he had managed to get so close to you without noticing. 
“I’m meant to be in Charles' car,” you replied as your heart rate crept up, like his cleverly hidden hand on your ribs.
“Plans changed, now I get you all to myself.”
Each day you found it harder to fight the urge to give into him. The nights left you tossing in an empty bed as you imagined all the filthy things he had whispered in your ear each time he passed. This promotion with F1 and Ferrari in particular needed to end soon or, so help you, the temptation would be too much.
A clap of hands drew your attention away from Carlos and the professional photographer waved you forward to the red sports car waiting for you. You were accustomed to being the envy of the men around you, you were literally paid to lure them in with your body and the lingerie you paraded. This promotion was no different, only it seemed to be working a little too well on one man in particular - a man who was in a very public relationship. 
“Gorgeous, honey!” Cristiano blew a kiss as he snapped away on his camera, capturing your poses on the hood of the car effortlessly.
It would have been a lie to say you hadn’t noticed Carlos shuffle his way through the lighting staff and makeup artists to get a better view. You noticed, and you played with fire.
Carlos tugged at the collar of his race suit as his body temperature spiked. He had never been so enthralled by a woman before and he couldn’t let you leave without taking a bite of the forbidden fruit. The way you sat on the hood of his car made his blood race and when you leaned back and spread your legs as you looked to the sky, he swore that he had found the altar to worship on his knees for. 
Carlos bit his lip and vowed to take you like that before the campaign was over. He was going to have you, he didn’t care what he had to do to make it happen - there was no price he wouldn’t pay, and everyone had a price.
Cristiano spotted Carlos edging forward, his shadow interfering with the light and snapped his fingers at the man. “You, red man, go to her.”
Carlos didn’t need any encouragement as he strode confidently to his car and looked down at your reclined position with a dark smile. “How do you want me?”
Your lips parted with an answer before you realised he was speaking to Cristiano and snapped your mouth closed but Carlos’ smirk grew. “Do you have something to say, hermosa?”
“I thought this was a lingerie shoot.”
“I can strip down for you, I have no problem with that,” he said as he reached for his collar but you caught his hand to stop him.
“I think your girlfriend would have a problem with that.”
“Then don’t think about my girlfriend.”
“Red man, baby, you’re too stiff. Relax and take a seat,” Cristiano called out, curling a finger for you to stand up. Carlos took your place on the hood and an assistant darted across the track with his helmet. “Okay, honey, turn around and do your thing.”
You inwardly cursed as you faced Carlos and saw your reflection in the tint of his visor, the bright red lace you wore matching his suit perfectly. 
“Do your thing, hermosa,” he dared from the helmet as he lifted his feet to the front bumper and spread his knees for you to step between. 
You told yourself this was just a job, that the chemistry was purely for camera, as you placed your hands on his knees and arched your back before looking over your shoulder. The sound Cristiano made was pure excitement and he snapped a few shots with encouragement to do more. 
“Fuck, you are beautiful,” Carlos groaned as your position thrust your breasts into his line of vision and he all but whimpered when you turned around. 
You didn’t have to fake the pleasure on your face when you leaned back against Carlos and tipped your head back onto his shoulder, looking up under your lashes as you bit your lip. Without needing direction, his hands found your hips and pulled you flush against his body and your hand reached up, slipping beneath the back of his helmet to tug the strands of hair you caught.
“How wet are you, hermosa?” he whispered in your ear. “I bet you are absolutely dripping for me.”
You crossed your legs as naturally as you could in the stiletto heels and felt his chest bounce with a laugh. “Don’t be shy now. We are just getting started.”
His hands burned your skin as they slowly rose up your body and you didn’t dare breathe until they reached the cup of your bra and you pushed away from the car. You were at risk of doing something very stupid if you stayed there a moment longer. “What’s next?” you asked the director, silently begging it to be something solo so you could recover from being so close to Carlos. 
But your wish was ignored.
 “Some hot laps, you’re with Carlos.”
You looked longingly at Stacy who was making her way to Charles’ car but your view was interrupted by Carlos and the arm he threw over your shoulders, turning you to the passenger door. “Ready, cariña​?”
“Carlos…” your words died out as he opened the door and gave you a look that dared you to moan his name again so you silently took your seat.
“Open your legs.”
“No!” you gasped before looking at your lap and seeing the seatbelt was nothing like ones you had worn in the past. This one had a buckle between your thighs. “Oh.”
“Don’t act like you didn’t think about it,” he chuckled as he reached for the metal clasp, a hiss of air escaping your clenched teeth when his knuckles brushed over your panties. “It is humid here, isn’t it? Very moist.”
“Oh my god,” you groaned.
“What? I am talking about the weather. Unless you know of something else that is moist?”
“Please stop saying that word.”
“How about wet? Do you like that? You can tell me what you like, I am a very good listener.”
“I would like you to please focus on driving.”
“Relax, I am good at multitasking.”
“Like having a girlfriend and still trying to get my attention?”
Carlos scoffed before closing the door and walking around to his side. “Cariña, I’m not ‘trying’ anything, I had you the moment you walked in my garage.”
“It’s not going to happen.”
The engine started with a purr and your heart skipped a beat as Carlos smirked to himself. “We’ll see about that.”
Your entire body was trembling by the time the car came to a screeching halt at the start of the track. Adrenaline flooded your body and after the thrilling speeds that Carlos had driven at the world seemed to spin too slow. You wanted that heady feeling again, it was addictive.
Carlos had barely paid attention to the track as the sounds that you made drained his brain of his blood and sent it straight to his dick. He took the turns faster so your shoulders brushed with his and he hit the chicanes harder to see your perfect tits bounce in the barely-there bra.
“Dinner, tonight,” Carlos stated as he turned the car off and reached over to the buckle and pushed it in. The plastic pressed to the juncture of your thighs and a moan escaped before you could suppress it and he grinned. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
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Carlos knocked at your hotel door right on time and you checked yourself over once more before opening it. After seeing how he had reacted to the red Ferrari & I.D Sarrieri lingerie crossover set at the photoshoot, you found an equally racy dress in the same shade of rouge.
“I thought we were going out?” you asked as you saw a tray balanced in his hand.
The look he gave you was truly devilish as he dragged his eyes down your body and back up to your face. “I prefer to eat in.”
He slipped past you and hooked his shoe on the door, kicking it closed. You stared at his back as he walked deeper into your hotel room before he turned and curled a finger, beckoning you to join him in the dining room.
“Shit,” you murmured to yourself as you took a step towards him without meaning to and thought, I’m in trouble.
Carlos placed the covered tray on the table and pulled out a chair before holding his hand out for you. Against your better judgement, you placed your hand in his and let him pull you closer. His arms curled around your back as your hands settled on his shoulders as he smiled triumphantly.
“I finally have you all to myself, hermosa.”
One hand slipped down your back but you couldn’t find the energy to fight his advances as his palm caressed the swell of your ass. You were just trying to figure out how to make your lungs breathe again when his lips stole what little air you had left.
You curled your body against him as his tongue lashed across you lips and they parted on instinct as you wanted more.
“This dress is killing me,” he groaned as his hand travelled further down until he reached the hem and dragged it up over your hips. Cool air kissed your skin that was completely bare beneath the dress. “Looks like you had plans of your own.”
Your head fell back with a moan as his lips sealed over the racing pulse in your neck. “I didn’t want lines showing on the dress,” you lied, because the fantasy of this moment had crossed your mind. You just hadn’t thought about the possibility of letting it go this far in real life.
You felt his teeth graze your skin as he smiled at the lie and his hands gripped your hips before he lifted you onto the table. “What are you…”
Your words faded out as he dropped into the chair and licked his lips at the sight before him. “Eating in.”
You screwed your eyes shut knowing you were going straight to hell with a Ferrari red A pinned to your dress. You screwed your eyes shut as he kissed your left calf and placed your heel on the arm of his chair before doing the same to the right.
“Cariño,” he murmured between the kisses and bites he trailed up your thighs before he lashed his tongue through your folds. “Hmm, you are so wet for me.”
You reached for his thick, dark hair and combed your fingers through it as you gave into the temptation. You tightened your fingers in the strands and pulled him back to where you needed him most. “Hasn’t anyone told you not to talk with a mouthful?”
“Where are my manners,” he chuckled, his breath scorching on your skin. “Let me make it up to you.”
Your head thumped back on the tabletop as he completely devoured you, moaning at the taste of you on his tongue. The chandelier above you was almost as bright as the stars that danced around your vision as the man made a buffet of you. You had never had someone put so much passion into eating your pussy and it showed as your first orgasm quickly built and wracked your body with undulating waves of pleasure that he eagerly lapped at.
“You taste so fucking good, hermosa,” he praised as he lazily traced his fingers along your dripping slit and he rose to his feet. Your mind was in a haze and you smiled dumbly as you looked up at Carlos to see his lips glossy with your come.
“You are a filthy man,” you purred as he swiped his thumb over his bottom lip before licking it clean.
“We’re just getting started,” he teased as he reached over to the tray and lifted the lid. “Strawberry?”
You parted your lips as he dipped the sweet fruit in the tub of chocolate sauce but instead of giving you a taste, he drizzled the chocolate over the swell of your breasts. You didn’t care if it ruined the dress because his lips were on your skin, his fingers pulling the material down to bare your breasts before his tongue swirled around them.
“Fuck, Carlos,” you cried as he sucked your nipple to hard peaks. Your body burned for more, your back arching as your hips rolled in search of friction to ease the ache to be filled. “Fuck me, please.”
He didn’t need to be told twice as he reached into his pocket for a condom before unzipping his trousers. You were impatient, squirming on the table as he tore into the foil and rolled the sheath down his hard length. You sat up at the edge of the table and surprised him as you wrapped your hand around his cock, guiding him to your entrance as he watched on hungrily.
“Take it, cariña, take it,” he grunted deeply as he inched himself into your tight cunt until your bodies were pressed to each other. Your legs wrapped around his hips, your nails dug into his back, your teeth buried in his neck and he cried out your name as he snapped his hips forward.
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Guilt ate at you as you dressed the next morning. The evidence of what you did was buried under layers of makeup and you swore it couldn’t happen again. Carlos was in a relationship, that should have been enough to stop you.
But he was persistent.
“Stop, someone might see,” you growled as you put your hand on his chest to stop him getting any closer. He had cornered you in a private room of Ferrari’s hospitality while you reapplied concealer to your neck.
“No ones going to come in here,” he chuckled as he easily brushed your hand aside and pulled you against him. “Don’t you want me to make you feel good again?”
“No,” you lied, your body betraying you as your nipples hardened in the thin bralette you had been scheduled to model. “Go.”
“Your lips say one thing but your hips say another,” he teased. “One touch, cariña, one touch and if you’re not wet for me then I’ll go. One. Touch. Deal?”
“No…”
“Why not?” he asked knowingly.
“Because…”
“Yes?”
You looked away from his darkening eyes and clenched your thighs together. “Because I want you to but you have a girlfriend, Carlos. This is wrong.”
“Then I’ll break up with her,” he offered, like it was the most obvious solution in the world, and pulled his phone from his pocket.
“What! No,” you gasped, grabbing the device. “You can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t want to be the reason, and this was a mistake.”
His hands went back to drawing small circles over your hips and you felt yourself relaxing before you caught yourself and pushed him away. “I’m serious, Carlos, once this promo is finished we aren’t going to see each other again.”
“Then let’s enjoy it while it lasts.” His pout had you sighing in defeat. You had already crossed the line once, did the number of times really matter after that? “I’ll make you another deal, I won’t break up with Rebecca if you have dinner with me again.”
You knew exactly what he meant and exactly what was on the menu but you lied to yourself. “Just dinner,” you clarified as his smirk grew.
“Just dinner.”
Click here for part two.
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rafesslxt · 2 months
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neglected | mattheo riddle
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summary: Theodore completly ignores you and doesnt take it serious that you miss him while he flirts with another girl at a party.. so his best friend has to help you filling up that hole inside your … chest.
warning: cheating? but is it if he does it first?, mattheo eating out the reader, fingering, nipple play, teasing, dirty talk, getting caught, he‘s a munch don‘t fight with me over this -
note: i do not support cheating, this is just for the story
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— monday —
I don‘t know how many times I already begged but from time to time.. i felt more and more neglected.
"Theo, please just this one weekend! You had been busy with your friends and studying the last 3 weeks!" Yeah, 3 weeks since my boyfriend went on a date with me, had some quality time or touched me.
"Y/n I told you I don‘t have time. I already promised the boys I‘d come to the party. We‘ll see us there, I have to go study now, with Lydia." Before I could even say a word he left his dorm. I hear a chuckle coming from the other side of the room, making me turn my head in it’s direction.
"Told you you deserve better baby." Mattheo, Theodore‘s best friend said, sitting on his bed. They share a dorm and every now and then he would see Theo and me arguing.
I huff and leave the room, a aching feeling in my body.
— the next day —
"Theo please, I need you. You didn‘t touch me once the last few weeks." I whine into his ear, sitting next to him. He just groans, but not the way I want him to and gets up with his book in his hands. "Don‘t you see that you‘re distracting me?" Irritated he leaves the room, probably walking off to the library again.
Ugh.. i let myself fall back down onto the mattress and cross my arms over my face. Is it my fault? Did my body change somehow? Why the hell won‘t he touch me? But before I could continue my thoughts, I hear the door again, my head shooting up, hoping it is Theo who changed his mind but no, it‘s Mattheo. I groan frustrated and let my head fall back.
"Wow nice to see you too baby, but I think you‘re laying on the wrong bed." he says, teasing me.
"Sometimes I think like that too." I mumble into my arms and more to myself.
"What was that?" he asks. "Nothing."
— two days later —
Patiently I wait on Theo‘s bed, dressed all up.. or down, in his favorite lingerie set and a pair of black knee socks. When we got together half a year ago he told me he loved them on me, made my legs look even longer.
As the door opens my heart starts beating faster and I look up, shrieking and pulling the blanket over my body as I see who it is. "Damn mami is that for me?" Mattheo asks as he stand in front of Theo‘s bed with a smirk on his face, his mouth wide open.
"What the fuck are you doing here?" I asked furious, not wanting him to see me like that. What If Theo comes in and would see us, what would he think?
"Last time I checked this is my room, sweetcheeks." "But you‘re supposed to have quidditch practice!" I whine and look for my clothes.
He chuckles and steps a bit closer as I stand up from the bed. "Could you turn around? I wanna get dressed." "No." "You are such a pain in the ass!" I roll my eyes at him and take my wand, mumbling "Colloportus“. and holding it towards the door so no one can come inside.
I let go of the blanket, thinking fuck it, and grab my skirt, pulling it over my legs and then my hips. "Did your cute little boyfriend leave you unsatisfied again?" he grins and takes a step closer. "You know.. I could help you with that." he says in a suggestive tone. "He’s your best friend Mattheo, stop this shit." "I can’t princess. Hurts me to see that pretty little body of yours, knowing how desperate it must be after all these weeks." he whispers the last part as he lets his fingers slowly brush over my arm, sending shivers down my spine. "See? It’s so hot for just a little attention." "No, it is cold, thats why." I say, swallowing down the clump in my throat as i nod towards the opened window.
Just as I wanted to reach down for my top, I see Mattheo getting down on his knees in front of me. He looks up and licks his lips. Damn.. something about a men on his knees for me made me feel slme type of way.
"Please let me touch your legs, please. Need to know how soft these pretty thighs feel." I could feel his warm breath against my skin, again, sending shivers down my… spine. wet pussy
"Mattheo get the fuck up I swear to god!" i hiss at him. Yes I closed the door with a spell but it wasn‘t really hard for everyone above first years to open it with a spell.
"Please, I swear If you let me just touch it I‘m gonna leave you alone for the rest of the week!" he pleads, looking at my face and then my legs. I sigh as I think about letting him. Damn was I really thinking about it? Am I really going to let my boyfriends best friend touch my thighs?
But I mean.. nothing’s wrong If I don‘t feel anything for it, right? Plus he would just leave me alone for a bit. "Fine." I press out.
As soon as the words leave my mouth, I feel his big warm hands on my thighs. "Shit.." he mumbles as he lets them wander up and down my legs. He slighty squeezes them, making me sigh in relief.
I feel his curls against my skin before I can look down and see him kissing my flesh, grabbing it with a bit more strengh now. I had to bite my bottom lip as he starts massaging them. Completly lost in thoughts, I realize too late what he was doing.
Suddenly he stands up and kisses my cheek "Thank you, doll.", before leaving the dorm and leaving me breathless in the middle of the room. As I slowly come back from the dizzy feeling inside my head I again, stretch over to get my top but gasp with shaky breathing as I see what Mattheo left on my skin.
A hickey. And a bite mark. I didn‘t even notice him biting my leg. Shit.
— Saturday —
To say i was pissed, while sitting on a chair in some corner of the common room, was a big understatement. Theodore and I arrived at the party he talked about a few days ago.. 2hours ago. I saw him drinking with his friends and playing truth or dare in a little group, always walking away from me as soon as I approached him. So I decided to stop chasing him.
"What are you doing here all alone sweetcheeks?" I look to my right and see Mattheo. Of course it was him. "Leave me alone." I say, rolling my eyes and looking back to my boyfriend, sitting beside this girl named Lydia. She was a year under us I think.
Mattheo followed my gaze and shakes his head. "Well , the deal was I would leave you alone till end of the week. The week is over." I don‘t even answer him, not in the mood to argue.
"Yeah thanks for the hickey and the mark between." i say sarcastically. "Yeah it‘s not like your boyfriend would see, right?"
I roll my eyes again and look back at Theodore, to see him standing up. What was he going to do? Suddenly I see him taking Lydia‘s hand, pulling her up with him and kissing her. In shock I opened my mouth, but instead of crying like i normally would, my face got red in anger.
I tried everything and here he stands sucking of the face of that stupid thot. In the middle of the common room? With the girl he "studys" all the time? I bet that’s not the first time they kiss. Mattheo seems to see it too and looks at me more serious now. "Hey.. are you okay? I mean he‘s not worth it If you - " but before he can continue I grab him at the collor of his shirt and drag him with me to his dorm.
— 30 minutes later —
"Oh fuck yes, Mattheo!" I moan into the air, pushing his head against me while his lips suck on my clit, his fingers pumping inside me. "Shit who would have known that you go this feral for my tounge huh?" he smiles and mumbles against my skin.
"Stop talking and continue!" I whine and push his head back. I hear him chuckle before he laps at my throbbing clit again. God If I would have known how good this feels I would have had ended things with Theo way sooner.
His free hand slides across my body up to my left boob where he started to tease my nipple. I gasp and push my hips up, arching my back. My body was so sensitive I wanted to cry out of pleasure everytime he touched me somewhere.
It didn‘t took me long before my body starts trembling and shaking, Mattheo licking everything up as I come on his tounge.
"I could get drunk on your pussy." he groans before kissing me, making me taste myself on his lips.
"I hope you‘re ready cause that pussy screams for me." he whispers against my lips before going down on me again.
A few minutes in I hear someone yell. "WHAT THE FUCK?"
My head shot up and I looked to the door where Theo stood, looking ag us with an angry face.
I saw Mattheo looking at him over his shoulder, smiling at him with glistening lips. "Hey men, hope you don‘t mind? We got the impression you were busy.. never mind – bro how could you not eat that pussy like.. all day?"
"I‘m gonna kill you, Riddle!"
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shorter than usual but I liked it 🌼
thanks for reading and supporting 🫶🏻
xoxo sarah <3
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Can i get an immortal villain×mortal hero please please please🥺
I'll give you my croissants 🥐🥐🥐
"How would you like to die?" the villain asked. Their eyes were closed where they sat upon a park bench, head tipped back to the cool breeze and the clear blue sky.
The hero stopped, a little uncertain, but not exactly startled.
"I've tried every kind of death," the villain said. "I can make a recommendation if you prefer."
"I'm not going to die."
The villain's lips twisted - a smile, of sorts. "All mortals die. It is the linchpin of their condition."
"I won't die because of you."
The villain's smile broadened. "Drowning, perhaps. Or maybe suffocation. I don't want to disturb the ducks."
"Why those in particular?"
The villain finally deigned to open their eyes at the question, considering the hero where they stood. The hero couldn't quite read the villain's expression, but their voice remained casual. "Everyone always thinks they can survive those ones. If they just thrash, just fight, hard enough. Then they go very still and very quiet when they realise they can't. You have time to realise what's going to happen to you, see."
"Nice to see you at least put thought into your craft."
"What can I say, I'm a sweetheart. You only get one death."
"But you don't."
"You've done some research. Not enough," the villain added, tipping their head, "seeing as you're still standing there talking to me. But some. Kudos. I guess we'll see if you're brave or stupid."
"I'm not trying to kill you."
"Contain me. Incapacitate me." The villain waved a dismissive hand. "You might save your generation, perhaps, if you get lucky. Are you feeling lucky?"
"I'm not trying to do that either."
"Oh?" The villain sat up a little, finally tuning in properly to the conversation. "Are you not a hero? You dress like one."
"I'm hoping to find a more peaceful, effective solution."
The villain slumped, bored, again. "Mm. This should be good."
"Because I have done my research," the hero said, taking another step closer. "You're immortal. You only kill people when they attack you or are in the way of you wanting something."
"As I said, I'm a sweetheart and a saint."
The hero's jaw tightened. The villain had slaughtered thousands across the decades after all. They were many things, and had lived many lives, but in none of them had they ever been a sweetheart or a saint.
"And what you want most," the hero ploughed on, "other than your comfortable life, is not to be bored. There's no end, after all. So you need distraction. Diversion. Something to make time a little less of of a prison."
The villain was silent for a long moment, watching the hero. "I take it back," they said, finally. "I'm going to drive a knife through your ribs. Nice and slow. You know it's much harder to die from a stab wound than people think? Often it's the blood loss that gets ya."
"And then what?"
The villain shrugged. "Feed the ducks. Go back to my book. Make Christmas lights out of your bones. The possibilities are endless!"
"Sounds lonely."
"You think you're the first to try this, don't you?"
"I think you haven't met me before."
"Maybe I will entertain myself with you," the villain said. "Maybe I'll destroy your life and the live of everyone you talk to from now on. That could be fun. It's been a while since I've been so personal a devil."
Despite themselves, the hero swallowed. Despite their resolve, they considered walking away. Just for a moment.
The villain pushed to their feet, tossing their paperback carelessly aside.
The hero squared their shoulders. They felt their suddenly-fragile feeling heart begin to race. They let the villain stop in front of them, they tried not to let out a desperate shudder as the villain's fingers wrapped around their throat.
"Pick an option," the villain said, caressing their pulse. "Lose air. Lose blood. Or lose everything, but get a few more years before you go. If you ask really nicely, I might even make it quick. "
The hero shifted. They passed through the villain's fingers as if it were nothing, as if the villain were nothing. A ghost. Untouchable.
When the villain turned, the hero sat on the bench the villain had vacated. They made a show of picking up the villain's book, willing their once-more solid fingers not to tremble.
The villain raised an eyebrow. "Phasing. Cute."
"I don't age when I'm in ghost mode. Any injuries I have heal. If someone kills me, I stay dead, presumably. I'm mortal, as you say, but..."
"Hard to kill."
"Hardest you'll find. Or does the challenge scare you?"
"Determined little martyr, aren't you?"
"Not like you have anything to lose experimenting. You have all the time in the world."
"You realise I don't have to honour any deal now that you've revealed your hand? I could just hunt you and continue hurting other people, especially now I know how much it bothers me."
"I'll disappear."
"I have all the time in the world. I'd find you eventually."
"I guess then I'd just vanish again, if you don't want to play ball."
"You really are just the cutest, aren't you?"
"Is that a yes?"
"Maybe." The villain held out a hand for their book. "I haven't decided. Buy me lunch. See if you can keep my interest for more than five minutes."
"Lunch."
"There's a new cafe I haven't tried. Apparently they make their own croissants."
"You want to go to lunch with me?"
"No, I want to go to lunch. All this talk of bloodshed is giving me the munchies! But I'm assuming you're currently planning to haunt me, so you may as well pay. Unless you want me to just...kill anyone who tries to charge me."
"No! No."
"That's what I thought. Great minds."
The hero pushed to their feet, as the villain had, tentatively offering them their book back. They weren't entirely sure if that encounter had gone well or not.
The villain smiled, full of teeth, eyes gleaming.
"For your sake, little hero, do try not to be boring."
And, so, they went for lunch.
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cyn-write · 2 months
Text
"Waited All Night..."
Prompt - NRC is in upheaval. A video of Yuu singing a song has been circling around the school about her being "bewitched," and everyone is trying to figure out by who. Yuu is embarrassed and upset about her private song being the subject of gossip, so she decides to hide from everyone only for her crush to find her and reveal he has been "bewitched," by her...
Pairings - Savannaclaw x F!Yuu (Separate)
Warnings - FLUFFF; Incredibly shy Yuu; stagefright (Yuu again); swearing (mainly by Leona); Spoilers for book 3 (Jack's part)
Song Prompt - "Bewitched" by Laufey
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Prologue - Heartsyble - Savannaclaw (Here) - Octavinelle - Scarabia - Pomefiore - Ignanhyde - Diasmonia
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Leona hated the fact that he couldn't get to Yuu. He tried calling her but she didn't answer, he tried going to Ramshackle but the ghost kept him out, and when she didn't show to any of her classes or to clubs that is when his patience broke. He knew the Yuu had feelings for him and was waiting for the right time. When the song came out, he knew the time was now and he had to get her out of the stampped of gossip.
He was in an irritable mood for most of the day and by the end of it, Ruggie was ready to snap Leona's neck. Anytime Leona heard her name or the song or head and tail of the betting pot, he would snap at the closes person to him... which was often Ruggie. The last straw was the absolutely grueling Spelldrive Practice. He worked them harder than Vargas ever would and by the time it was over, half the team was crawling back to their dorms. Ruggie stayed to "help" clean up, but he had anterior motives. Leona was toweling off after showering, still scowling from hearing the guys discussing "the pot." apparently there was a lot of money on names that weren't his... but also the sum on his name was hefty. "Go." Ruggie said, done with the grumbling mess. "What?" Leona spat back. "Go. To Yuu. I'm done with this- whatever this is." Ruggie gestured to Leona, "You've been in an awful mood all day and taking it out on everyone around you. Namely ME. So Go. Talk to her. and PICK SOME DAISES. I don't care what it takes. But if you keep acting like this, I promise to make your life a living Hell if you keep all this bottled up." Leona knew Ruggie meant and could keep that promise. And that is what he needed to hear. "Fine." Leona threw his shirt on and grabbed his bag before leaving. "But If I hear your name anywhere near winning 'the pot', You're a deadman." "Wouldn't dream of it!" Ruggie chuckled as Leona made his way to Ramshackle. He had no clue what he was going to say. but he had to say something. By the time he made it to her door, Leona debated just barging in... but he knew if he did that it would make her even more scared than she already was. He knocked and called for her, when she didn't answer, decided to say what came to his heart; "Herbavior... let me it... I wanted to tell you this sooner or later but... I've been bewitched by you for a while now."
Leona was growing tired of waiting. He had to see her, he had to know how she felt, he had to fight for the one thing he was not going to let pass him by. As he reached his hand out to the know, the door opened.
On the other side, Yuu looked completely exhausted and relieved. She looked into his eyes and asked him, "You mean it? Truely?"
Leona sighed and said, "I won't repeat myself again. So listen." He placed his outstretched hand on her cheek. "I like you. Herbavior. A lot. You're my favorite pillow and one of the few people I can stand being around. But you drive me crazy at the same time." He looked into her doe eyes and closed the gap between him. "So I need to know. Your song. Do you mean it?"
Yuu placed her small hand on top of his and her eyes pricked with tears, "I wrote that song to work out my feelings... for you."
Leona never felt more relieved. He gave Yuu a smug smile and caressed her cheek with his thumb, "I knew it."
He leaned down and claimed her lips. After waiting around patiently, listening to the chatter of his classmates, and getting radio silence for a day, he finally had her in his arms. She wanted him. No one else.
When they parted he placed his forehead on hers. He finally saw her smiling and she had a blush on her cheeks that boosted Leona's ego. "I'm guessing you liked the song?"
"What do you think?" Leona chuckled, "I was hoping to hear it in person..."
That made Yuu divert her gaze and turn around, facing her back to Leona. "I-I... I would love to but... n-not yet..."
He could smell how nervous she was. Ever the smooth prince, Leona wrapped his arms around her mid-section and nestled his head into the crook of her neck. "I'm a patient lion. I'll wait as long as you need me to, herbivore."
Leona walked her to the bed and plopped down with her in his arms. And for the first time today, Leona and Yuu were able to nap.
Leona knew it would take time for her to become comfortable enough to share her voice, and thankfully he was a very patient man. The two spent a lot of time together, and after seeing Leona's arm around Yuu's shoulders all the vultures flew away and Ruggie became very happy. Leona was a lot easier to find, and Spelldrive practices became bearable again! In his opinion, Leona and Yuu getting together made Ruggie a very happy Hyena.
Over time, Yuu began to show Leona some of her songs and hum them, but nothing more. Until one evening after Spelldrive practice, Leona was lying in bed using Yuu like a pillow while she mindlessly played with his hair. The moment was peaceful, and Yuu was mindlessly humming. Leona was about to drift to sleep when he got a pleasant surprise, Yuu began to sing, "While You Were Sleeping,"
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Ruggie has an uneasy feeling in his gut all day. He was doing laundry when he heard some of his dormmates talking about Yuu's song, and his heart sunk. He knew Yuu had terrible stagefright, she told him this when directly when they were both doing chores the other day. He tried to call her and text her to see if she was alright but she left him unread. He listened to her song before bed the night before, and his gut began to twist.
He wanted to check on her, but she never showed up to class or clubs. What was worse was hearing the debates. Everyone was taking their bets and at times he would hear his name in the midst:
"It HAS to be Ruggie. They are always together! I saw them doing laundry like an old married couple the other day!" One of the Savannaclaw Underclassman pointed out. This made Ruggie start to blush and his stomach feel light.
Then, a scarbia student pointed out big wall in his way that has kept him from pursuing anything beyond a friendship with Yuu: "Why would she pick Ruggie when she has Kalim asking for her hand? Why choose a pauper when she could have a prince?"
That comment has been haunting him for weeks. Ever since he realized he liked Yuu as more than a friend. He had been able to brush off the feelings for a long time, but Yuu's song and the debate around it made him confront these feelings. He spent the day in a daze and out of it. He got his work done, but he nearly ran into a pillar twice that day and almost walked square into Jack.
During Club, it got dangerous as he nearly got hit in the head with a disk if not for Leona. Leona pulled Ruggie aside and called him out. He knew Ruggie has been crushing on Yuu, it was plane to see, but he also knew Ruggie's dilemma and was sick of it.
Leona dragged Ruggie into the locker room and threw him his duffle bag, "Go."
"What?" Ruggie thought he was being thrown off the team for a second.
"Do I need to spell it out for you?" Leona was incredibly annoyed and shook his head, "G. O. to HER." Ruggie just looked flabbergasted at his dorm leader. "B-but-" "If you give me that 'I'm too poor' bullshit again, I will knock your head in." Leona pinched his brow before grabbing his wallet and throwing a bundle of cash at his friend, "You work to the bone. You deserve to be happy. She makes you happy and she is happy with you. I can smell the attraction between the two of you and if I have to hear you whine about it or make dopey eyes at her one more hades-damned time. I will lock you two in a room and make you work it out." Leona sounded threatening, but Ruggie knew this was Leona's way of 'encouragement'. The lion-beastman walked past Ruggie and opened the locker room door before looking back at him. "If you are here by the time I get back and not taking Yuu out to a nice dinner. I swear you will be doing all of the teams laundry until you do." Then stormed out. Ruggie just sat there shocked before looking down at the cash in his lap. He could only smile. Leona may not show it often, but he does care. He decided to shower really quick before leaving for Ramshackle. On his way, he tried to think of what to say, and still even after stopping by Sam to get dinner, he had no idea by the time he got to her door. He hesitated to knock but just spoke what came to him in the moment. "Yuu. I know I'm not the... best choice. I don't have anything in the prospects of money or career besides Leona's runner, but... you've bewitched me and I don't want to get out from your spell..."
Everything was still, and Ruggies heart was teetering on the edge of breaking. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe the fleeting moments were just made up in his head. Maybe Leona was lying. Maybe she loved someone else...
He was about to walk away when he heard her move towards the door and twist the handle. As the door opened, he saw Yuu look at him with tear-stained eyes and a slightly agape mouth. "Do you mean it?" Yuu asked holding the door tightly, "You... feel the same?"
Ruggie nodded. His heart was beating out of his chest, his stomach was twisting in knots, but he pushed through those things and was able to give her a small smile, "I do. Every word." He scratched the back of his head and looked at himself then at her, "I know I don't have much, but I will work hard to give you the life you deserve." He looked her in the eyes and took a deep breath before professing his feelings, "I will work hard to be with you because you make me forget my situation for a moment. When we... when we walk together, do chores together, or even just hang out, I feel like a normal student for once instead of the hyena at the end of the food chain... So please," He reaches out and takes her hand in his, squeezing it gently and smiling sweetly, "please give me a chance?"
Yuu stared at him for a moment. She looked like she was about to cry again and Ruggie was readying an apology when she surprised him. She stepped forward and placed a gentle kiss on his lips.
Ruggie tensed for a second before melting into the kiss. He dropped the bag of food in his one hand and used it to gently hold the small of her back while the other still held her hand. She adjusted the position of her hand to lace her fingers with his and deepen the kiss.
They eventually parted and she was finally smiling. "Is that a good enough answer for you?" She asked with a coy grin.
Ruggie's signature smile returned to his face for the first time today. "Shishishi, I don't know, maybe I need to hear it one more time?~" This time he leaned in and kissed her deeply. She let go of the door and looped her arms around his shoulders this time.
It didn't last as long since Yuu's stomach interrupted the kiss.
Ruggie leaned back and chuckled again, "Someone hungry? Guess I made the right call." He crouched down, picked up the bag, and held it up, "Chicken sound good?"
Yuu nodded and giggled, "Sounds delicious!"
The rest of the evening, Ruggie felt like he was dreaming. Between a nice dinner, snuggling on the couch, and her falling asleep on him as they watched some TV, he didn't want to wake up.
Ruggie has never been happier. He and Yuu spent as much time as they could together between school, work, and chores. The gossip halted quickly as Ruggie made it clear the SHE chose HIM. Leona was also a smug ass for the week after and would throw smug comments at the two in the vain of "finally," and "You're welcome," that even though they annoyed Ruggie, he was grateful to his friend.
It took a while for Yuu to feel comfortable enough to show Ruggie her notebook, and it was even longer for her to start humming. Sometimes, when they are doing laundry, dishes, or some other chores alone together, Ruggie and Yuu would hum or softly sing together to pass the time. Until one night, after a particularly rough week, Ruggies was enjoying a rare night in with Yuu. They were snuggled together on Yuu's bed, just enjoying eachothers embrace. He was enjoying the peace, and Yuu's humming turned into singing, "Dandelions"
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Jack was on edge all day. From the the gossip that surrounded him to his friend (who he has had a crush on since the octanvinelle situation) disappearing and ignoring all attempts at contact, Jack felt cornered all day. Anytime someone brought up Yuu's song or the bet going on, Jack's hair would stand on end and he would get tense. Epel, Ruggie, and Leona all knew Jack had a huge crush on Yuu for a while and the former two would ask him if he was alright and check in on him all day which only proceeded to annoy him. When Jack saw Grim, he had to contain himself from punching the cat. He betrayed Yuu's trust and privacy, he hurt Yuu, and Jack wanted to protect her but he had no clue how. Due to this energy and rage being pent up for most of the day, Jack was like a cornered canine all day. He snapped at his classmates, his friends, and what got him was snapping at VIL. Jack was jogging around the school and down the main street where the Film Club was shooting a scene. They were packing up for the day and Vil was talking to an Ignanhyde student about something or other. Jack was distracted trying to think about anything other than Yuu and ran into Vil accidentally. Due to Jack's size, he knocked Vil into the Fairest Queen Statue behind him. "JACK!" Vil called and dusted himself off with grace. Jack stopped and bowed, his ears flattening, "Vil, I-I am sorry." The Ignanhyde student was frozen in place and looked Jack up and down. Vil looked at the student and gestured for him to leave, which his clubmate appreciated. "I didn't see you there. I'm so sorry." Vil looked at his childhood friend and sharpened his gaze, "It's alright." He nods for the underclassman to follow him behind the statue. Once out of sight, Vil crossed his arms and asked, "What is going on? According to Epel, you have been on edge all day. It isn't like you to not keep an eye on your surroundings." Jack shook his head and said, "It's nothing. I'm fine." Vil stepped closer and tilted his head, "It's Yuu isn't it?" Jack's cheeks went red and he looked away. "No." Vil kept pushing Jack as he knew the freshman was lying. He knew he pushed the right button when he said, "You're in love with her aren't you?" "WHY CAN'T YOU LEAVE IT!" Jack snapped at the upperclassman and immediately regretted it. Vil wasn't phased but had a stern look on his face, "Jack. Because you are a good friend of mine I am going to let that go. But listen to what I say and take it to heart." Vil's tone was sharp and the beastman listened intently, "Go find her and tell her how you feel before it is too late." His eyes softened and he placed a hand on his friend's shoulder, "Yuu is a shy person and you obviously have very strong feelings for her and a desire to protect her. She is probably scared right now and needs someone to lean on. Go to her and do what you do best. Make her feel safe." Jack rubbed the back of his neck and felt small, "But what if... what if she doesn't feel the same?" Vil sighs and says, "You don't know she doesn't until you try." Jack nodded and released some of the tension in his body. "Thanks, Vil." The Pomefiore Dorm leader nodded and released the freshman in the direction of Ramshackle. Jack jogged over to the dilapidated building and was finally able to get inside. He stood in front of Yuu's door, took a deep breath, and let his heart speak. "Yuu... I'm here for you and always will be... I don't want you to feel any pressure, but I need to get this off my chest... I-I... ever since you saved everyone from Azul's contracts, you... I've been bewitched... by you."
Jack's tail never stopped wagging for the next few weeks. Anytime Yuu's scent was in the air or they were sitting together, his tail would give away his joy at having her near. The other first years did point this out (Ace), but he didn't care, and Yuu found it endearing. Vil smiled when he saw the two and Jack thanked him personally saying that he always knew they were meant for each other (Rook and Vil had known about the two's mutual feelings for a long time now, but it wasn't their place to tell).
Jack felt incredibly self-concise about his size, his hair, his smell... everything. He had no clue how to stand, where to put his hands, and his heart was beating out of his chest. He felt like he was standing there for hours and debated leaving when he heard footsteps on the other side. He looked up in time for Yuu to open the door. He looked directly in her beautiful doe eyes and saw a glint of hope.
She stood there silent for a moment, both of them searching for words. When words failed to come, Yuu hugged him. Her small frame fit snug against him. He wrapped his arms around her waist and the back of her head. He held her with such gentleness as if he was scared to break her.
Jack needed no words to express his feelings, he expressed them in the way he held her close. His large hand cradled her head and stroked it with such love. His lips barely grazed the top of her head, but that is all that was needed. He loved her. He wanted to protect her. And no words could express how much he felt for her, and no words were needed. She knew how he felt.
"... I love you too Jack ..." Yuu said softly and it made Jack's heart jump again.
His tail began to wag and a smile graced his lips. His large hand moved to her cheek and gently guided her to look at him. He stroked her soft cheek with his calloused hand and leaned his forehead against hers, "I know I am not much for words but... I promise, I'll protect you, no matter what comes our way. And I will love you with all my being."
"I know," Yuu smiled, "and so will I,"
With that, the two leaned in and sealed their promise of devotion with a tender kiss.
Eventually, Yuu had gotten comfortable enough with Jack to work on her songs while he was in the room. It was a random Thursday night, Jack was working on homework and Yuu was working on her songs. She caught Jack by surprise when she asked him his opinion on a song. He put down his homework and agreed to listen. He curled up behind her and listened as she sang the song she had been working on the past couple of weeks, all while Jack's tail lightly wagged on the side of the bed; "Lovesick"
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Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋
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Fandom: My Hero Academia
Ship: Shoto Todoroki x Fem Reader! 💋
Note: The fic gets a bit saucy, so A18+ ONLY just to be safe!
Genre: Fluff, Romance, S*xual Tension, Making Out
CW: MDNI!, kissing, making out, boobs, fondling, romance, sexual tension, semi-spicy scenes, lemon
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Its mid-afternoon in the UA library. The early Spring sunlight is streaming through the tall windows and across the sci-fi novel you're flipping through. You sigh; content to finally have a Saturday off after a grueling few weeks of classes, training and internship activities.
You think back to a particularly tough training session that had taken place the day before - you had finally kicked Shoto Todoroki's ass in front of the whole class. You smile as you remember the shocked look on his face as you reached down to help him back to his feet.
"You had it coming, hot stuff." You winked as he grabbed your hand and let you pull him back to standing position. His face had flushed red in humiliation at the loss.
You're suddenly jerked out of your reverie when a figure looms over you, casting a long shadow on the desk before you. You turn, startled. As if pulled from your daydream, Shoto Todoroki has materialized before you – tall and handsome. You look up at him in surprise, mouth half open.
"I think we should kiss." Shoto's deep voice says above you, his tone neutral.
"Huh?" Your mouth drops fully open. Shoto is looking down at you with eyes alight with determination. That cute blush is back - splashed across his pale cheeks and across his aristocratic nose.
"I was thinking back to our fight yesterday, and the reason why I lost. It was because I was thinking about kissing you the whole time. I let myself get distracted. I think that if we kissed, I could get over it and refocus on training." So matter-of-fact! That was one thing you liked about Shoto - he was straightforward.
"Um...okay." With an effort, you close your gaping mouth. You’re absolutely dumbfounded. Shoto has never shown any romantic interest in you before. You’ve never caught wandering eyes on you in class, he’s never stashed a love note in your locker. None of the typical school love tropes have been leveraged here. If anything, the two of you are loose acquaintances on the cusp of being friends. Maybe a few more months of class and group activities together would have helped you bridge the gap and fully form a decent friendship.
You wonder if he’s been into you all this time, or if this is just a whim he’s exploring. Either way - who are you to let an opportunity to kiss a hot guy go by the wayside? You snap your book shut and stand. "You want to do this right now?"
Shoto nods, and turns to walk away with the expectation that you’ll follow. You get up and sweep your things into your bag, heart beating double time. You quickly jog to catch up with Shoto – he’s already out the door. The two of you walk across the UA grounds in silence, your footsteps falling into a soft rhythm.  Your mind is going at a million miles per minute – could this all be an elaborate prank? Shoto has never struck you as the type to play a cruel joke on a classmate. Quite the opposite – when he’s not training he seems so soft and sweet. He strikes you as more of an introvert than anything else. He keeps people at a safe distance. You’ve always been under the impression that when it comes to Shoto, trust is earned, not freely given.
You wonder if this kissing business means that you’ve earned a bit of that trust? Who’s to say.
“So…” you say, attempting to break the tension. “Where are we going?” 
Shoto looks back at you, confused. “Isn’t it obvious? We’re going to my dorm room.”
“Oh.” You pause. “Wouldn’t that be a bit inappropriate? Like, what if someone catches us kissing in your dorm room? Won’t we get in trouble?”
“I’ll lock the door.” He says sensibly. “It’s no one’s business but ours.”
“Huh.”
“Oh – I think I understand what you’re getting at.” He runs a hand through his hair reflexively. “It’s no wonder you’re one of the top members of the class. A good hero always has a strategy. So we should come up with an alibi.” He brings his thumb to his chin as he stares into space, pondering.
“If someone catches us, I can say that I experimentally froze my lips with my power and that I asked you to help me warm them up. Naturally, the best way to do so was with your lips.” He turns to you expectantly to gauge your reaction.
What the actual hell, Shoto.                                                          
“You’re um…you’re fucking with me, right?” You look at him uncertainly. Shoto’s unusually harsh upbringing has caused him to be shockingly literal at times. Your eyes scan his face until the corner of his mouth quirks upwards into a small smile.
“Yes, I am.”
You burst out laughing at the unexpected joke, and his tiny smile grows into a full grin. He likes making you laugh.
“Listen…” He says reassuringly, “No one is going to bother us – it’s such a nice day. I overheard some of the girls saying they were going to take pictures near the campus cherry blossom trees. They roped Midoriya, Ida and a few other classmates into the activity as well. Bakugo, Kirishima and Sero are all training across campus in the gym. We should have at least an hour or two before anyone comes seriously looking for us.”
Wow. That must be the longest group of sentences he’s ever said to you directly.
“You’ve really thought this through.” You say, following him across the threshold of Class 1A’s dorm complex.
He smirks. “I’m strategic.”
You look at him appraisingly. He looks clean and trim in his tailored UA uniform. Aside from the scar surrounding his eye, he has the most perfect skin of anyone in your class. While the rest of your classmates have been stressing about moisturizer and SPF and acne treatments, you’ve watched Shoto sail through his hormonal teens without a skincare care in the world. The skin of his cheeks is the color of porcelain and looks so, so soft and deliciously kissable. His face holds a mixture of determination and apprehension.
You enter the kitchen and common room area of your dorm and see that it’s completely, blessedly empty - odd for a Saturday. Shoto is right - it is one of the first nice spring days on campus. You assume everyone is out enjoying the nice weather as he said. This is a good thing – it means your clandestine meeting with Shoto can stay secret. Everyone in Class 1A can be so nosy sometimes. You’re determined to keep this juicy little secret between the two of you.
He leads you up towards one of the hallways that encompasses the boy’s dorms, pausing in front of his door to fiddle with his key. His usually steady hands are shaking a bit as he turns the lock and pushes open the door to reveal his immaculately clean bedroom with it’s traditional Japanese décor.
You step inside and slide off your shoes, letting your bag drop to the floor.
“I forgot how traditional your space is, Shoto.”
He closes the door behind you and clicks the lock into place before discarding his keys on his desktop. He looks around the dorm room thoughtfully.
“It’s how I grew up. I never really had the chance to develop my own taste or style.”
“Maybe now that you have your own space, you finally can!” You say enthusiastically. “If you’d ever like to go shopping or want help putting together a Pinterest board, Mina and I can definitely help you find some inspiration.”
His flat line of a mouth quirks up into another small smile. “I haven’t really had the time to think about anything other than school work and the L.o.V. since we moved into the dorms. Maybe you’re right – this could be an opportunity to broaden my horizons. See what I like.”
“Yeah! There are so many fun ways you can bring more of yourself into this space. We can start with a throw pillow.” You say knowledgably, pulling up the Pinterest app on your phone. “What’s your favorite color?”
“Blue.”
You type the color into the search bar, and immediately the screen is flooded with hundreds of different shades of blue throw pillows – all kinds of patterns and sayings and beading and embroidery. You hand him your phone and encourage him to scroll through the options.
“I’m sure we can find something that makes you feel like you.”
His eyes soften a bit as he takes the phone from you, intrigued. He scrolls through the colorful images, overwhelmed by the options. After a few minutes of careful deliberation, he finally stops and double taps a picture, hyperlinking to a website.
“This. This feels like it could be me.” He sends himself the link so he can purchase the pillow later. He hands back your phone and you take a curious look – the image he’s drawn to is a long rectangle of fabric shaped like a whale. It has navy blue stripes along with a small curved tale and button eyes sewn on. You look up and see that the tips of Shoto’s ears are bright red.
“This isn’t what I was expecting – but I see now that it suits you perfectly.” You say, picturing the whale pillow in his room – a dash of whimsy against the otherwise stuffy outdated décor.  He practically glows at the compliment. You realize that this is likely one of the first times someone is validating a choice he has made for himself. You cough and toss your phone into your discarded bag – the moment feels oddly intimate.
Shoto’s eyes scan across your face and he speaks his next words slowly, almost deliberately. “This is what I’ve always liked about you, y/n. You always seem to know what to say to get someone to smile or to open up. Admirable traits in a future hero.” You feel your own face heating up at the sweet compliment. Shoto has never given you so much direct attention outside of class, and it’s exciting and almost unnerving to have those two intense eyes focused in entirely on you.
“Thank you Shoto, that’s a very kind thing to say.” You suddenly realize how very close Shoto’s face is to your own. He’s only a few breaths away. Shoto is a few inches taller than you, so you need to crane your neck in order to get the full picture of his beautiful face. You wonder nervously if he expects you to initiate – should you reach out and grab his face? Your heart starts beating much too fast and you see his intense eyes dart down to your lips, wanting. You take a step closer to him, leaning up to meet his face, and…
“Let’s get started.” He says abruptly, breaking the moment. He walks over to his closet and pulls out his bedroll, hastily moving to set up his sleeping space so that you’ll have a comfortable place to sit. Once he sets up the space, he takes a seat on the soft mattress and motions for you to join him. This wasn’t really what you were expecting, but you remember that Shoto is pretty sheltered. He clearly has a plan in mind here, so you decide to let him take the lead.
“Alright, before we start – I just want you to know that we can stop at any point you’d like. I want you to be comfortable here, so please let me know if at any time you feel like you don’t want to continue. Ok?”
You nod, appreciating the dialogue and Shoto’s forethought surrounding consent.
He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. Leaning his head back, he exhales slowly through his nostrils. After a moment of deep breathing, his eyes flutter open. “It’s an exercise my father taught me for clearing my nerves before a battle.” He explains as he runs a nervous hand through his two-toned hair.
“Are you anticipating a battle here?” You tease, reaching over to place your hand on his thigh. Shoto eyes the hand curiously before matching your gaze.
“Of course not. But surprisingly – I have the same feeling of anxiety now that I usually have right before a sparring match.” His expression is stone cold serious, not even the hint of a joke this time.
“I understand that. It’s nerve wracking to kiss a person for the first time.” You quickly double back on your words. “N-not that I’m implying that this is your first kiss or anything, I-”
Shoto blinks. “Oh – this is my first kiss. I thought it was fairly obvious.”
“Oh! Oh, Todoroki – I didn’t realize!” You trip over your words a bit and it brings out a soft smile in Shoto.
“I think that’s why I’ve been so distracted lately. Once I know how it feels, maybe then I can move on and focus back on my training and studies. Is this not your first kiss?” He tilts his head to the side, questioning. You see no hint of jealousy in his eyes – he’s legitimately curious.
“N-no. I’ve kissed a few people before. Never anything serious! Just here and there at summer camp.” You smile weakly, face burning. Shoto nods appreciatively at your candid answer.
“That makes sense – you’re very competent at everything you do. And very attractive.” This last part brings a blush across Shoto’s pale cheeks. “I had assumed there were plenty of people who have wanted to be kissed by you.” The compliment is unexpected and it makes a laugh bubble up your throat. You start giggling and Shoto seems taken by surprise.
“Did I say something funny?”
“No – no! You’re just so sincere and sweet and I am so nervous right now. Shoto you’re competent and attractive, too. I hope that you know that!” This brings his smile back out again, like the sunshine after a long rainstorm.
“Why don’t we just get it over with, then? I’ve read a few articles and studied some movies and…well, I think I’m as prepared as I can be.” Shoto’s face is so open and earnest your heart squeezes in your chest. He studied for this??
Slowly, carefully, Shoto reaches out a delicate hand to cradle the side of your face. He scoots somewhat awkwardly closer to you, but the rest of his movements hold his typical grace. He leans forward, eyes half closed, and brings his lips to your own.
You dip your head to receive the kiss, and you feel his soft lips melt against yours. You close your eyes and revel in the feeling of his mouth. Everything about him is soft and electric at the same time – the points where your bodies are connected feel charged with some kind of buzzing energy that leaves your breathless. And just as soon as it’s begun – it’s over. A brief peck, a stolen moment in time. Shoto pulls away from you, eyes wide, as he catches his breath.
“So?” You ask, trying for nonchalance but failing when you realize your voice is just a hoarse whisper. “What did you think?”
“It’s…” Shoto looks at you thoughtfully, touching his fingers to his tingling lips. “It wasn’t what I was expecting. I just feel like I want to do it more – like I need to keep going.”
You laugh – “Did you really think you’d want to stop after your first kiss?” Shoto shrugs, unwilling to answer the question.
“Can we kiss again? Please. If you’d like to, that is?” He asks, and you note the want in his voice. You’ve never heard Shoto Todoroki sound desperate for anything in his life before this moment. You’re surprised at how he sounds fairly desperate for you.
You smile at him and lean in close, bringing your foreheads together. You can feel different temperatures playing across his skin as he works to keep his quirk in check as excitement roars across his body.
“Follow my lead, lover-boy.” You whisper, before crashing your lips together. You move at a faster pace this time, showing him how to slide his mouth against yours to have a proper make out. He picks it up quickly and absolutely relishes in it. His eyes are closed and his hands find either side of your face again. You let him hold you like that for a few minutes before you decide to take the reigns a bit more. You reach out to place a hand on his chest and softly push him away from you.
“Here – this will make things a lot easier.” You stand up and move to straddle him, slowly sliding into his lap and wrapping your legs around his back. You place his hands on your waist and wind your arms around his neck. “Comfortable?” He nods, his eyes blown wide and almost glassy with lust.
“This is okay?” He asks, looking down at the way his hands grip your hips.
“Absolutely. You’re going to want them there for leverage.”
“Leverage?” He asks weakly, his eyes trained on your lips.
“You’ll see.” You smile deviously as you take in how absolutely undone Shoto looks. “Okay, next step – have you done any research on French kissing?”
Shoto nods again, looking a bit uncertain. “I watched a romantic comedy online and at the end the main couple kissed that way.”
“Well it’s super easy – I’ll walk you through it.” You tilt your head towards his and melt your lips back together, starting out with a slow and soft kiss. As he begins to get comfortable with the pace of your kissing, you move to deepen it – running the tip of your tongue across his lips. He naturally opens his mouth to you, and you move so that your tongues meet. You guide him into a light dance, your kisses becoming more frantic as your mouths and tongues collide. This brings out a ferocity in Shoto that you hadn’t expected, and you feel his hands grip your hips with almost bruising force. You groan, turned on by the contact. You automatically rock your hips into his and he stills at the motion. You blush as you realize that you can feel Shoto’s dick becoming hard beneath you. Shit.
His hands fly off of your hips and he sits back, mortified.
“I’m so sorry-” you start to say as he runs his hand anxiously through his hair again. Shoto takes a deep breath and looks at you, eyes still fuzzy.
“Don’t be sorry! That was amazing, I just…didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.” He looks down between you pointedly. He doesn’t want you to get freaked out by the fact that he’s got a boner.
“Oh I’m not uncomfortable at all! Actually, quite the opposite.” This answer makes Shoto’s sculpted eyebrows fly up into his hair.
“Really?” He whispers.
“Yeah. It’s actually really hot.” You reach down and take his hands in yours, moving them back to your hips. You make piercing eye contact with Shoto as you roll your hips experimentally again – feeling his hardness even through your clothes. He groans at the contact this time, a soft sound that is just: So. Goddamn. Hot.
You grind against him again, picking up a steady rhythm as Shoto enthusiastically moves your hips. Struck by sudden inspiration, you lean forward to kiss a sloppy line up his neck. This draws a moan from Shoto that you weren’t expecting – low and sweet. You smile as you continue to kiss his neck, using your tongue when you find a particularly sensitive spot beneath his ear.
Shoto grabs your face with one hand and tilts your head up before crashing his lips back into yours. His kisses are heated and passionate as he bounces you on his lap, making you both see stars. You’re so wet you can feel yourself soaking through your panties. You pray that your school uniform pants won’t get damp beneath you – how embarrassing would that be?! At the same time - you don’t give a damn; Shoto’s mouth and his hands and his dick feel far too good. At the moment kissing Shoto Todoroki feels like the only thing you were put on this goddamn earth to do.
Tentatively, you feel Shoto’s hands wander up from your hips. You moan into his mouth as his hands find your breasts. “How is this?” He whispers hoarsely, running delicate fingertips across the peaks of your breasts. “Is this okay? I can stop if you want me to.” You moan your consent enthusiastically, and when he begins to softly knead your boobs over your shirt, your hormones fully take the wheel.
You hop off your classmate so you can quickly unbutton your shirt – your tie flying off as you work. Shoto remains sitting on the floor and does the same with his own uniform. In a moment he is sitting shirtless and beautiful before you, chest heaving as he works to catch his breath. He stares at you with bright eyes as you stand above him in nothing but a bra and UA’s uniform slacks. He has never seen a woman with so little clothing on before, and he is in awe.
You kneel down beside him on the bedroll and reach out to touch his perfect body. Your hand hovers above his perfectly sculpted abs and you look up at him, eyes asking permission. He nods, giving you his blessing to touch. You smooth your fingertips lightly across the defined planes of his chest and abs, marveling in all that he is. Your palm comes to rest against his chest and you feel his heartbeat – a quick staccato beneath your delicate hand. You push him lightly so that he moves to lie on the ground before you.
“You alright with all this?” You whisper, moving slowly to straddle him on the ground.
“If I get to have you on top of me again – absolutely.” And he grins – a genuine smile that radiates comfort. You’ve never seen a look like that before on Shoto’s face and it stops you in your tracks. You just want to bask in the glow of the rare gift of his beaming face.
After a moment, you collect yourself and move so that you’re on all fours and hovering over him. You shiver – you’ve never been so close to someone in this way before. He seems to notice your hesitation.
“You look cold – do you want to grab a blanket?” He reaches up and runs his hands up and down your arms, giving you more goose bumps. You nod, and he reaches to grab a thick grey knit blanket that’s folded neatly to your left. He pulls you down to lay on top of him and easily casts the blanked across your intertwined bodies. The knit feels luxurious and expensive – and it smells deliciously like Shoto. A scent that’s a mixture of sandalwood and fresh sheets wafts around you. It’s comfortable and warm and you feel so, so happy to be sharing this moment with Shoto.
He wraps his arms around you and feels himself get hard again at the delicate feeling of your bare skin against his own. He pulls you in for a kiss – and this time the passion is slow, sensual. You’ve never kissed someone like this before – like you have all the time in the world. He moves his hands up and down your bare back beneath the blanket – warming you up. He’s keeping his ice quirk at bay – both of his hands are the perfect temperature as they run across your soft, supple skin. His hands come to rest on your lower back as he moves to experimentally kiss down your collarbone.
“Oh! Oh, Shoto, yes.” Is all you can say. The use of his given name seems to turn him on even more, because his kisses become sloppier and he runs the edge of his teeth against your skin. He continues to kiss down your shoulder, pausing for only a moment in order to roll you both over so that he can have a turn on top. You gasp at the sudden movement – the dynamics have unexpectedly shifted and Shoto is in total control.
He gazes down at you, shifting the blanket so that it doesn’t get tangled between your bodies.
“You’re so beautiful.” He says, a note of wonder in his voice. “Your skin is so soft…I never realized how great it would be to touch you.” He runs a light fingertip across the delicate skin of your neck and across the expanse of your collarbone. He watches as he runs his finger down the slope of one of your breasts, stopping when he meets the soft cotton of your bra.
“Can we take this off?” He whispers, moving to palm your breast over the delicate white material. You nod, and prop yourself up so you can reach behind yourself to unclip the clothing. With a light “pop!” the bra clip comes undone and Shoto helps you discard the item. He takes in your breasts with a look of absolute amazement and cautiously reaches out to touch them. He gently runs the palm of his hand across your right breast experimentally. You gasp at the contact, and he nervously glances at your face to make sure you’re not in any discomfort. You smile at him, encouraging him to keep going. He kneads the breast in his strong hand a few times before experimentally rolling his thumb over your nipple. You gasp at the contact as pleasure surges through you – you had no idea you were so sensitive. Shoto repeats the motion, earning a soft moan. He smiles at the praise – unexpectedly mischievous as he moves so that he’s kneeling over you, able to tackle a breast with each hand. He goes to work pinching and massaging and rolling your breasts between deft fingers, drawing the sweetest sounds from your mouth.
“Shoto!” You cry out as he moves to spread more kisses across your neck as his left hand plays with one of your breasts. You reach down and squeeze the muscular plane of his ass, begging him to grind into you. He gets the message loud and clear – moving against you gently so that you can feel his hardness graze against you.
He’s causing so many delicious sensations across your body with his lips, hands, hips, groin – it’s almost too much. You feel like you might drown in him when suddenly –
A knock on the door causes you both to still.
“Todoroki?” Mr. Aizawa’s voice is muffled behind the door. You’re both rigid with fear. Shoto’s lips are at your neck and his breath tickles your bare skin. Your fist is tightly squeezed around his left ass cheek. You stare at the ceiling as you start to panic, wondering wildly what you’re supposed to do in this situation. Oh shit oh shit oh shit.
Mr. Aizawa knocks on the door again. “Todoroki – your father is here to see you.”
“My father?!” Shoto blurts out before he can stop himself. He scrambles off of you and looks around in a panic. “Why’s my father here?”
The walls seem to be thinner than you thought, because Mr. Aizawa supplies an answer from the other side of the locked door.
“Endeavor had a press conference at a hotel down the road this morning. He wanted to check in and discuss internships. I left him waiting in the common area. I’ll be in my office if you want to grab any internship paperwork while he’s here. I wouldn’t keep him waiting, kid.”
“Of course – thank you Mr. Aizawa!” Todoroki calls through the door awkwardly, listening as your teacher’s footsteps recede into the distance.
You and Shoto stare at each other in absolute horror.
“Do you think he heard us? Do you think h-he knows?” You whisper, panic lacing your voice.
Shoto shakes his head no as he gathers up his shirt and shakily tries to re-button it. “No – I don’t think he was out there long enough to hear anything incriminating.”
You let out a breath of anxious air, reaching for your discarded bra. “Thank goodness.” You re-clip your bra and shrug on your shirt.
“Endeavor is here?” You eye Shoto with concern as he dawns his tie and straightens his hair in a wall mirror on the back of his door.
“My old man likes to pop up at inconvenient times.” Content with his hair, he looks down at you. You’ve started to fold up his blanked and bedroll, patting down your own hair along the way.
“We should probably talk about what just happened…” He starts to say, but you shush him as you hear heavy footsteps coming from down the hall.
“Shoto!” A booming voice rings through the hallway, sending shivers up your spine. The heavy footsteps come to a stop right outside Shoto’s dorm door. The doorknob rattles as someone tries the lock. “How dare you keep me waiting!”
“I’ll be out in a minute, old man!” Shoto calls back bitingly. He glares at the door, thankful for the meager lock. He turns to look at you, and his eyes fill with panic. You scan the room for a place to hide – there is absolutely nowhere to conceal yourself in Shoto’s sparse, plain room.
Suddenly, you’re struck with inspiration – you point to the window. Shoto nods in agreement, dashing to grab your things from where they lay abandoned at the threshold of the door.
Quietly, you pad over to the window and pull back the curtains by a foot. You unlatch the window and slide it softly open before hoisting yourself into the wide window frame. It’s lucky you’re not afraid of heights – because Todoroki’s room is on the fifth floor. There is a small escape ladder for fire emergencies (you smile at the irony of Endeavor being the fire emergency in this case). You move to settle your feet on the top rung of the ladder, with plans to climb your way back to the ground so you can re-enter the dorm building from the back.
Shoto leans out the window and hangs your messenger bag around your shoulder.
“Find me later so we can discuss this.” He says, looking apprehensively over his shoulder as his father continues to bang on the door and callout his name. “I’m sorry this ended with you having to sneak out the window like some sort of criminal.”
“Ah, it’s no big deal! Makes it more exciting.” You grin and he smiles back. He leans forward and presses a small kiss to the corner of your mouth before moving back to close the window.
As he slides the glass closed, he says to you “I don’t think this is going to help me refocus. If anything, I’m more distracted than ever.” You give him a wink as he shuts the window soundly, drawing the curtains to cover your escape.
Hastily, you climb down 5 stories worth of thin metal ladder, landing gracefully in the soft spring grass. You walk to the dorm’s back entrance and let yourself in, walking past the laundry room and up towards the common area. Mina waves at you as she tosses some clothes into the washing machine, and you say a silent prayer thanking the powers that be that none of your friends had come looking for you while you spent your blissful hour hidden away, half-naked and moaning, in Shoto Todoroki’s room.
You climb the stairs two at a time until you hear the voice of the Number 2 Hero grumbling in the common area. Curious, you peak around the corner to see Shoto and his father seated on one of the couches, sorting through paperwork. Shoto has a dead look behind his eyes as his father lectured him about the importance of networking. He nods blankly a few times before his eyes catch sight of your small frame hiding around the corner. His entire face softens at the sight of you. Endeavor notices and turns to see what’s captured his son’s attention.
“You there! Are you a member of Class 1A?” He booms out, almost polite in his delivery. You walk out into the room, drawing yourself up to your full height.
“Dad – this is my classmate Y/N. She lives on the girl’s side of the dorm. Her quirk is extremely powerful.”
“It’s nice to meet you Mr. Endeavor.” You say, trying not to blush at Shoto’s compliment. Endeavor waves you off with a fiery hand.
“Ah, that’s right. I recognize you from the Sport’s Festival. Your quirk and fighting style were both quite impressive.” He looks at you appraisingly. “Are you a close friend of Shoto’s?” 
“She is.” Shoto answers smoothly. “Actually, she’s been tutoring me a bit lately on some techniques I’m not familiar with. She’s a greatteacher.” The subtext is not lost on you.
“Surely you don’t need help in your studies, Shoto. You’re at the top of your class.” Endeavor says gruffly, looking to his son for further explanation.
“Just showing him a few moves I picked up in one of my martial arts classes, sir! Shoto picks up new techniques like a Pro.”
Endeavor seems mollified by this answer. “Of course he does. He’s on track to become the best of the best.” The hero claps his hand on Shoto’s shoulder proudly, and you smile weakly at the discomfort that flashes across Shoto’s eyes.
“Well – I’ll let you both get back to your work! Shoto – if you want to practice those techniques again later, I’ll be in the library until 8 tonight.”
You see Shoto ever so slightly lick his bottom lip. His face is tinged with the lightest of blushes.
“Got it. I’ll see you there, Y/N.”
You have a feeling that Shoto isn’t going to be able to focus on his studies for quite some time.
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neonmoonster · 2 months
Text
“Of course I didn’t want you!”
Anakin recoiled like he had been slapped.
The anger he had felt only moments before towards the man in front of him dissipated and reformed into the keenest hurt he had ever experienced.
He had known this, of course—had known it forever, and he had prepared himself for the day the truth finally came out, building walls around his heart and forcing distance between himself and Obi-Wan for this very inevitability—but actually hearing it, actually hearing Obi-Wan say those words aloud? 
Nothing could have prepared Anakin for this moment.
I didn’t want you. 
Obi-Wan was still talking, ranting, but his words seemed far away, distant, like he was standing at the end of a tunnel, miles away from Anakin, who felt lightheaded, unsteady on his feet.
“—ster had just died, the Sith were back, and here was this boy,” Obi-Wan’s voice, tight and forceful, floated in and out of the air, “This boy for whom my master discarded me without a second thought, this boy, who was now my responsibility to raise and train.”
Anakin couldn’t look at him. Didn’t want to see the resentment in the set of his mouth, the long-buried hatred in the furrow of his brow. 
“My responsibility—me, a barely knighted Jedi, practically a padawan myself.”
Obi-Wan let out a bark of disbelieving laughter, a sharp edge to it that sliced Anakin to his core.
“I could barely take care of myself in the days after Qui-Gon died, let alone another human being. And now I had the duty to fulfill my master’s dying wish to train this boy on the off-chance that he would save the galaxy.” 
Do not cry.
Anakin willed himself to keep looking down, to stay impassive, to not raise Obi-Wan’s ire higher than it already was. If he betrayed how much these words cut him, how deep a wound they inflicted on his heart, then the magnitude of his attachment would be revealed, and that would only make Obi-Wan hate him more. 
And Anakin didn’t think he could take any more of Obi-Wan’s hate.
Do not cry.
He heard Obi-Wan take a steadying breath, audibly reigning himself in. When he spoke next, his voice was softer, yet reverberated through Anakin's mind as if he had screamed them.
“So, no. I did not want you.” 
He sensed Obi-Wan, his accursed, beloved former master, take a step towards him. Anakin stilled, a horrible thought overtaking him.
Would he strike him? Obi-Wan had never—would never—but he had also never said anything like this out loud to Anakin before. He had finally crossed the line.
Done the un-take-back-able.
Anakin had always walked a thin line with Obi-Wan, pushing and prodding, bringing out Obi-Wan’s frustration, his rolled eyes, dry jabs, and sometimes disappointed frown, but he had somehow avoided tipping the scales all the way over—at least, not until now.
Now, when he had finally pushed too far. 
Fuck. 
Do not cry. Do not cry—
A hand fell on his shoulder. It took everything in Anakin not to flinch.
“But don’t you ever think,” Obi-Wan said, the fierce passion back in his voice and Anakin’s stomach sank, sank sank. “Not even for one second, that you were not the best thing to ever happen to me.” 
Anakin’s head snapped up in shock. The very thing he had wanted to avoid doing at all costs, but surely he had misheard, surely Obi-Wan had not just said what he just said—
“You are the best friend I have ever had,” Obi-Wan said, and there was still that hard edge to his words, but now that Anakin was looking at him, he saw that his master's eyes were not filled with anger-hate-bitterness like he had feared, but simple determination.
A serious expression, but one that was interlaced with a gentleness that Anakin could only describe as fond.
“It has been… the honor and delight of my life to teach you,” Obi-Wan said, and Anakin couldn’t move because the truth of it was ringing in the Force, unmistakable and passionate and firm. “And now to fight and live beside you as equals.”
Was Anakin dreaming?
A flicker of a smile crossed Obi-Wan’s face, like he was lost in remembrance and, oh, Anakin’s heart couldn’t take it, couldn’t handle this emotional whiplash, his greatest fear and most secret hope come to life over the course of a single conversation.
“It only took you about a day and a half to win me over. I was petrified every day that I would mess you up, leave you worse than I found you, let you down, Qui-Gon down, the galaxy down—but not once did I regret you. Not once would I have traded you away from anything.”
Obi-Wan squeezed Anakin’s shoulder and Anakin shuddered, letting out a choked whimper that he immediately wished he could take back, but Obi-Wan’s eyes softened, and through their bond Anakin could only feel kindness, affection, maybe even—
Obi-Wan's expression shifted once more, for the first time his steadiness in the force wavering, and he swallowed, appearing nervous, if Anakin didn't know any better.
"I do not always find it easy to express myself with words, like this. It is... difficult for me. But it appears that it is necessary today."
Anakin stared at him helplessly.
“I am unbearably sorry that I have ever made you believe otherwise. That you could ever think that you are not my favorite person in the world.”
Anakin could not stop the tear from falling down his cheek. And Obi-Wan Kenobi, high general of the Republic Army, one of the strongest, most respected masters in the Jedi Order, and Anakin's former teacher, gently caught it with the pad of his thumb and wiped it away.
"You are," Obi-Wan's voice came out rough and tinged with something that made Anakin's breath catch in his throat. But then just as quickly, Obi-Wan gave him a small smile, his voice clear once more, even dry and teasing.
“I hope that's alright with you.”
Anakin's answering smile was watery, but it could have lit up the entire galaxy anyhow.
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httpsghostie · 10 months
Text
Under one Roof pt 1
pt 2
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OK finally IT'S HERE
smh I'm down bad for roommate ghost I am sobbing
my hand is literally burning I wrote this aT COLLEGE
and YES my love language is food pls dont come for me
Summary: you never knew you needed a military roommate until you've got one.
Word Count: 1k (sorry it's short
Warnings: roommate!ghost x female!reader, slightly suggestive (if you squint), mentions of trauma, fluff/comfort, no use of y/n
masterlist
Ghost was an old friend of a friend of yours, and he happened to be needing a place to stay for a while, that ended up being a few more months, and now it's currently been a year since he moved in. He doesn't plan on leaving, you know it, you know that despite the independent man that he is, he likes having someone to come home to.
He was cold at first, so cold. And for many nights you cursed yourself for letting that rock of a heart get into your sweet home. He wouldn't talk much when he was there, you'd almost forget he was around if it wasn't for random coughs or sneezes.
That man smoked like a chimney in the first days he's spent around, he was anxious and that wasn't very cute, he was always smelling like cigarettes, but thankfully he didn't smoke inside.
He appreciated your effort on cooking for the two of you, but you couldn't help it. How could he survive when he wasn't eating properly? Yes, frozen pizza is cool… until it's the third day in a row that you're eating frozen and instant food and you can barely stand.
He also had a fucked up sleeping schedule that you just went along with it, you once got scared when you walked in the kitchen and found him just laying on the wall, eyes closed and snoring slightly. That day you scolded him to go back to his room and made him lay down on the bed.
"You're gonna lay down on this bed and you're gonna have some nice hours of sleep, alright? I'm gonna leave the door open, if I see you awake I'm punching you." You sounded like a mother, almost, and he was so tired he couldn't fight back.
And the days went by, he'd go away, he'd come back as tired as he left. But at least he was slowly opening up to be a really cool guy. You two started to bond, and the more he talked, the more you wanted to spend time with him.
Oh and don't even get started on dad jokes, he's cracking them up whenever he's helping with house chores, or when you two are eating peacefully.
He became a friend, a very good friend, one that wouldn't mind you venting out to, plus he was a good listener. He'd just sit there listening to whatever haze your brain was going through, and slowly he learned that he shouldn't be giving you reasonable ways to solve your problems, he should just tell you it would be ok.
And you found yourself slowly falling for him. Of course destiny had to put you together. Only if it wasn't for the way he handled things around the house.
"Oh, the living room lamp broke? Let me fix it."
"Those boxes are heavy, hand them to me."
"Go find a movie for us to watch, I'll do the dishes. Find a good one, though."
"Goddamnit, I told you not to be climbing on that fucking balcony, you're not a cat, you're gonna hurt yourself one day." Said as he picked you up when you were trying to reach the top of the cabinet. "Just ask me, I can reach it without putting myself in danger."
Or maybe if it wasn't for the fact that he'd purposefully get out of the shower with that pretty little towel wrapped around his body, that made you clench your fists. The way he was still a bit wet, a few drops running down his abs. He was surprisingly cool with his scars around you, maybe because you didn't make a big deal out of it.
That's because it wasn't. You expected that when Gaz, your friend, told you that the friend he was sending to you was his 'work buddy'. And he phrased it exactly like that. 
"Don't mind him, he's big and scary, but he'll be a good roommate, I promise, he's my work buddy." You chuckled when you read the text.
And yet Ghost didn't mind the stare of admiration coming from your burning gaze across the living room, when you thought the most ungodly things a brain has seen.
He started to become more and more warm, he found safe with you, like you could actually be his home. One night, he found a deep conection with you when you were casually drinking together, sat by the coffee table, playing video games. 
She should know the truth about me.
He thought. And that was the night he dropped his heavy armor. He told you the bare surface of his past, even though most of it had been blocked from his memory, like a dark spot he couldn't remember, and would die without trying to take a peak at it.
You cried, and he couldn't understand why you were crying until you said it wasn't his fault.
"It's not your fault, you didn't deserve any of this." You sobbed, hugging him close.
He broke down. Like he needed someone to reassure him that he wasn't the villain from his past. He realized what you meant to him, and he swore to God he would try his best to come home to you when he had to work.
Some days were strange after that, like he regretted telling you about his story. He had that feeling in his gut that you weren't looking at him the same way, like you were pity. He didn't want your pity, he hated that look on your face.
But that changed.
He had come home one day, texting you while he was at the airport waiting for a ride. You ran to get groceries and make him a good meal, but the only thing that came to your mind was the old recipe of lasagna you kept from your grannie.
That old lady, always saving your life.
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repulsiveliquidation · 3 months
Text
Darlin’ I’d Wait For You.
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Alexia Putellas x Reader
Very loosely based on the song j’s lullaby (darlin’ i’d wait for you) by Delaney Bailey and this poem!
It’s the night of your wedding, you’re dancing in the middle of the room with your friends. Lucy and Ona have you between them, the country song that half the guests didn’t understand still managed to give them a little pep in their step. Alexia sips on her drink, sitting around with her Barça teammates as they all watch the girls on the dance floor lose their inhibitions with the free-flow alcohol the longer the night goes on.
Frido taps her on her shoulder, seeing the lovestruck look on the Spanish captain’s face as she watches you let loose on the dancefloor.
“I’ve been meaning to ask you,” the Swede starts, the rest of the girls listening in, “how did you know she was your person?”
Alexia looks up at Frido and takes a long swig of her gin. She slams the glass down on the table, looking back at you. You’re being spun around by Mapi, a huge grin on your face when you catch Alexia’s eye. You bite your lip and grin at her, giving her a little wave. She gives you one back, leaning back into her chair. She takes a deep breath, looking at the girls.
“When I did my ACL, there was no one else who could get me out of bed.”
“Alexia, for fuck sake, if I come up there and see you still in bed, I’ll do your other ACL myself!”
You walk up the stairs, steam about to erupt from your ears when you enter the room and see Alexia sitting up in bed with her head in her hands. All your anger dissipates and you rush to her, kneeling in front of her holding her wrists.
“What’s wrong, Ale?” you ask softly, thumbs rubbing the back of her hands.
“I can’t do it,” she says quietly, eyes filling with hot tears.
“What can’t you do, darling?”
“This, I can’t do this. This isn’t me,” she cries, bottom lip wobbling as she leans into you. You cradle her head as she rests her forehead on your shoulder and sobs.
“You’re right baby, this isn’t you. This isn’t my Alexia. My Alexia is strong and stubborn. My Alexia refuses to quit. She fights, no matter what it takes,” you tell her sternly, wiping away her tears as your hands cradle her face.  
“I just want to be the old me,” she begs, grabbing the front of your shirt. You stand and hold her head to your stomach, rubbing the back of her neck.
“But, what if the new you comes back stronger than ever? What if the new you is better than the old you?”
“Will you still love me?” she asks wearily, watery eyes looking hopefully up at you.
“I will always love you, Alexia, nothing can ever change that.” “When there were setbacks, she was the only one who could get me to keep trying.”
“It feels funny, amor,” Alexia whispered to you on the pitch, hobbling over to the side of the pitch for a quick swig of water. You follow her and rub her back, taking a drink of water too.
“What does bebita?”
“My knee,” she says, pointing to her ACL one. You look up at her and bite your bottom lip, a habit you had when you were concerned.
“Do you want to come off, I think we can cover for you till someone’s warm.”
“Bebé, what if it’s happened again?” she starts, dropping her bottle and head spiraling to all the worse possibilities.
You take her hands and grip them tight, bringing her out of her thoughts. She looks scared, eyes and expression unreadable to everyone except you.
“It’s probably nothing, but I don’t want you taking risks. Sit out, we’ll be fine,” you give her a quick peck on the cheek, turning to see Jonatan already having someone to replace Alexia. She walks off slowly, nodding at you when you give her a thumbs up.  “When my start was delayed, she was the only one who would listen.”
“How did they not find anything?!” Alexia yells at you, throwing her book towards the window.
“Ale, it was exploratory. It’s good!” you rationalize with her, trying to calm her down.
“There’s supposed to be nothing, then why was there discomfort?” she screams, tears filling her eyes. Your heart breaks in two, her head hitting her pillow as she begins to break down. She had been holding it in for weeks since that day when she benched herself.
She refused to talk to you, engage with you, and look you in the eye. Your mind thought the worst until you heard her sobbing in the bathroom at 3 in the morning the night before she was due to be at the hospital.
“Ale?” you called, walking into the bathroom and finding her slumped in the shower. You quietly sit beside her, taking her hand away from her face. She gasps, looking at you with red eyes. You see fear in your girlfriends eyes, a look that she rarely had. You didn’t like it one bit.
“What’s bothering you, my love?”
“I’m scared again, bebé,” she admits simply, voice shaky.
“Why’s that, my love?”
“What if something is wrong?”
“Does it feel like when you did it?” you ask, rubbing the back of her hand in soothing circles.
She shakes her head, sniffling softly.
“Does it hurt like when you did it?”
“No.”
“It’s just not feeling like your knee?”
“Sí,” she says, leaning her head on your shoulder.
“Well, they had to reconstruct the ligament amor, it’s not your knee. You’ve got to give it a bit more time.”
“But, the fans, they want me out there playing I-”
“They also don’t want you playing if you’re not 100%, the Alexia they want is the one scoring magnificent goals, not standing by the sidelines scared of hurting her knee again. Take your time and give them the new and improved Alexia when you’re ready.”
“They’ll wait?”
“No matter how long it takes, darling.”  
“When I was ready to get out there, she held me like a child taking her first bike ride without training wheels. Promising to never let go.”
You promised to be by her side the entire process of recovering again. You took her to PT, made her eat well, and comforted her when things didn’t go to plan. What she didn’t tell you was that she was cleared for training and games again, Jonatan promised to put her back on the bench to be subbed in for a bit later in the game this weekend.
“I’m on the sheet,” Alexia whispered, looking at the team bulletin. “I’m on the sheet!” she yelled, jumping for joy as the rest of the team celebrated with her. She hugged Mapi, then Ingrid, high-fiving the rest of the girls. You waited patiently in your cubby for her, back turned as you ruffled in your bag.
Alexia got down on one knee (the ACL one of course), and the ring held out for you to see. The whole room was dead silent, and you turned to see what made the normally rowdy bunch all quiet.
“You better not be up to something, you guys are never quie-”
You look down and see Alexia grinning at you, tapping her knee.
“Ale, your leg! You’re not supposed to do that!” you say, completely ignoring the beautiful diamond ring in her hands. You begin to get her to stand when she slaps your hand away and Patri yells “Look at her hand, idiota!”
After showing her the middle finger, you look down at Alexia’s hands and see the open velvet box.
“There is no one else I’d want to have by my side the rest of my life, will you marry me?”
“Yes, yes, yes!”
She looks at Frido, smiling when she hears you yelling at the DJ to play your favorite. She leans forward, tears in her eyes.
“I knew because when I want to run away, she is who I’m running toward.”
Alexia looks at you again, you’re standing on a table dancing to the song the DJ just put on. She leaves the girls and walks towards you, helping you down.  
“Amor,” she says, pulling you into her arms.
“Sí, Mi esposa?” you grin, wrapping your arms around her neck.
“Te amo,” Alexia whispers, forehead pressed to yours as the dancefloor clears for the two of you.
“Yo también te quiero,” you say to her, lips leaning forward to press a deep kiss on her lips. She kisses back as the room erupts in cheers, their favorite couple displaying what true love looks like.
//
I’m in a bad place with my head right now so I wrote this out hoping it helps :) I don’t know if it makes any sense since I haven’t proofread but oh well.
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earthtooz · 10 months
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Just an idea that popped in my head (because i love you and your writing) but how do you think gojo would react when he's sitting on couch, waiting for reader to get ready so they can attend a party,and she emerges from their room,wearing the sexiest red dress and red lipstick?
Like,one min gojo is tapping on his phone,the next minute he's choking on air 😂
no mentions of reader's pronouns but reader wears a dress and makeup, suggestive, kinda deviated from what anon originally wanted, gojo is dumb and in love nevertheless.
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“if you don’t kiss me this very second, i might die.”
“excuse me?”
“if you don’t kiss me this very second, i. might. die,” gojo parrots, putting more emphasis on his words, as his eyes burn blue flames of determination and unwavering grit.
a laugh slips past your lips, “you’re being silly, satoru,” is all you say before walking past him and towards the genkan where you put out the red heels you were planning on wearing tonight.
“but i’m being serious!” he whines, “you don’t want me to die now, do you?”
“what started this?” reaching down to put on your shoes, your boyfriend is beside you in an instant, holding out his hand for you to grab as if acting like a glorified stand. you take it easily, putting your weight onto him to balance. 
“when you’re looking this irresistible i can’t help it, and it’s a red dress, what do you want from me?” the white-haired whistles before bending down to his knees when you’re back on two feet. his hands then reach for the straps of your shoes, wrapping them up for you. “is it so selfish of me to keep you all for myself?”
he kisses your calf when he’s done, standing back to his full height. “well, you are a selfish man, after all.”
“only when it comes to you,” gojo reaches for your hand to place on his cheek. his other hand tightens around your waist, gentle with his grip, but fully possessive. “you’re too gorgeous for my health, i’ll die of jealousy before lack of attention.” 
you laugh, drunk on love and affection as gojo pouts at you. “oh satoru.”
“what?” exclaims the sorcerer. “you’re going to capture everyone’s hearts. i don’t like it when other men look at you.” 
“is that my fault?”
“no, never your fault, baby. i’ll fight off anyone who looks too long.”
you smile at him, eyes crinkling. “what am i gonna do with you?”
“stay with me forever?”
“if you’re good enough, sure.”
“how about a kiss, then?”
pinching his cheeks, you take a step away from him, breaking the hazy, lovestruck daydream that gojo had entered. “not when i have this lipstick on.”
(he takes a second to admire your retreating figure, only looking away when you send him a pointed and unimpressed look, to his dismay.) 
“why not?” his tone is one of utter distraught and like a magnet, the sorcerer finds himself drawn towards standing beside you again, hand snaking up to hold your hips as you check your appearance in the hallway mirror.
“it will leave a lipstick mark, duh.”
“maybe that’s what i want.”
“you’re awful.”
“just one kiss, please?”
“but it will ruin the makeup.”
“i’ll die otherwise, y/n, won’t you save me?” 
you scoff. “fine. one kiss.”
the look of pure joy on gojo’s face could rival the brightness of the sun and you wonder how you could ever learn to resist this man’s charms. turning around in his grasp, you pull him in for a kiss that fills his lungs with absolute adoration, a warmth that threatens to melt him into a puddle at your feet. 
his heart sinks when you pull away, and hits rock bottom with a ‘thud’ when you don’t return to him.
“hey! that was too short.”
“makeup, satoru,” you lecture pointedly. “we should probably leave now, don’t want to be too late-”
“-i think we just don’t go at all.” 
“that would be impolite and rude, we can’t-”
“-we can,” he murmurs before sealing your lips with his, this time with a lot more passion and weight than you likes. however, not one part of you moves to push him away, giving in to his touch despite how you know you shouldn’t. 
“satoru, you’re going to have lipstick marks all over you,” you reason against his lips.
instead, he kisses you harder. “just what i want.” 
when his hand bunches up your red dress in his grasp, you know you’ve lost this fight, bending to gojo’s wishes under him.
you arrive looking prim and proper whilst your lover’s neck is littered with kiss marks. 
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© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.
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