#and walk away from it saying ''mommy issues''
Text
Beyond The Classroom
Pt. 1
I don’t expect this one to be very popular, this is a self indulgent piece 🫡
Summary: Once a Little Eagle, always a Little Eagle. Melissa keeps that promise to you year after year as she shows up for you in every possible way.
Warnings: Child abuse, neglect, abandonment, over all sad stuff (Mel makes it better!)
WC: 3.9k
Notes: Wrote this because it’s the week before Mother’s Day and I just want my mama (she’s an awful human being and will never be a part of my life again, 6 years no contact). Melissa is a comfort character for me, so I’m using this as a hug from her. I know there are plenty of other people with bad relationships with their moms (gotta love mommy issues), so I thought I’d share in case someone else would also like this hug.
I see you, I love you.
P.s. This story is about 85% based on events I experienced as a child/young adult. I’m thankful every day for the teachers who stepped in to be the parents I didn’t have.
You grew up in a not-so-wonderful household with abusive parents and older siblings who wouldn’t have noticed if you had decided to run away one day. Melissa Schemmenti knew. She was the one person you felt you could confide in as a child. She called CPS on your parents a handful of times during the year she taught you, in hopes of keeping you safe. Unfortunately, with a broken system and a mother who could sweet talk The Devil himself, your parents got off scot-free, leaving you to deal with the aftermath each time.
You would go into school the next day with a new bruise and tears in your eyes. Melissa would hold you close and let you cry all you could before pulling a chair up next to her own so you could be near your safe person all day. When it came time for dismissal, she would hug you extra tight and send a silent prayer to God that you’d walk through the doors again in the morning. On Fridays, she would sneak a Tupperware container of homemade food and a handful of snacks into your bag with a note that said ‘love you, kid’, knowing that your parents restricted your access to food and that she was probably the only person you heard those words from most days. The world sat heavy on your second grader shoulders and Melissa did everything she knew how to make it a little lighter.
Even as you moved on past second grade, Ms. Schemmenti was there. She would check in with each of your teachers at the beginning on the school year and pop in to say hello at lunch from time to time. If you had a particularly rough night at home you would stop by her room and ask her to hold you for a minute before other students arrived. She always obliged.
The day you moved on to middle school, Melissa cried right along with you. Both of you knew she wouldn’t be able to hug the hurt away or keep tabs on you as often. Of course, she made sure you knew how much she loved you, she gave you her personal phone number and said, “No matter how old you get or how far you go, you’ll always be my favorite little eagle. I’ll always be here for you if you need me and I mean it. If things go south at home, you call me and I’ll be there in a heartbeat. You’re gonna be okay.”
As the years passed, Melissa made sure she remained a constant- the only constant, really- in your life. Through your middle school years she became your tutor, meeting you at your school’s library every Thursday after dismissal to help you with your homework. Of course, those sessions were always a little more than just help with homework; she would bring you food and make sure you had clean clothes and basic necessities. One time you let it slip that your mother had ‘forgotten’ to buy you toothpaste and she dropped off a small bag of Colgate tubes on your front porch that night.
When you entered high school, Melissa made an effort to show up for every one of your art shows and track meets. Your parents never even made it to one, but Schemmenti was there. She always was. Your high school teachers even began to think Melissa was your mother; you never corrected them. And when you started working at the hoagie stand your sophomore year, Ms. Schemmenti would stop by once a week to have dinner with you.
The physical abuse dwindled a little as you got older and were able to fight back, but the verbal abuse got worse as a result. At one point during you senior year, your mother kicked you out after throwing a fit about you not inviting her to see you try on prom dresses. You called Melissa and she drove forty-five minutes at three in the morning to get you. Your mother knocked you to the ground and pulled fistfuls of hair, creating a tangled mess. When you were finally able to get her off of you, she screamed at you the entire time you packed your bag.
“FUCK YOU Y/N, YOU SELFISH BITCH! Couldn’t even include YOUR OWN MOTHER! It hurts, it’s almost like not getting invited to your WEDDING!” You dodged books and trinkets she threw at you as you tossed whatever sentimental things you could think of into trash bags to take with you. Photos of your grandparents, your favorite stuffed animal, and some of your artworks made it in before you heard Melissa honking in the driveway.
“You’ve never been my mom,” you seethed with tears streaming down your face as you dragged your bags down the stairs.
She blocked you from leaving at the bottom of the stairs and backhanded you, her ring catching the tender skin beneath your eye. You yelped in pain and stumbled forward, she grabbed you by the throat and squeezed. “You walk out that door and NEVER come back, you hear me? You are worthless, a waste of space and air.” She dug her nails into your skin before she released you and practically pushed you through the front door.
“You’ll never have to deal with me again. You want me out? I’m out.”
Your father followed behind with his fists balled up, “If you ever come back, it’ll be the last time you see daylight!”
Melissa waited for you by the car with her baseball bat, ready to swing if need be. Once your bags were in the backseat, Melissa tossed her baseball bat into the trunk and drove off. Your mother chased the car all the way down the driveway calling you every derogatory thing she could come up with.
The drive to Melissa’s house was silent save for the occasional quiet aob from both parties. Once you arrived, Melissa took your bags inside and walked you up the stairs to her bathroom to nurse your wounds. You winced as she swabbed your cheek with isopropyl alcohol and she frowned. “I’m so sorry, hon. I’m sorry I wasn’t there sooner to stop her.”
“Don’t be, you still showed up when I needed you. It coulda been a lot worse. Thank you,” you cried as you leaned your head against her stomach just like when you were a second grader.
She held you until your tears dried then left the room to grab a change of clothes for you. Moments later, she handed you a pair of her sweatpants and an oversized Eagles t-shirt. “You can take the bed tonight, I’ll sleep on the couch. My spare room doesn’t have a bed right now, but we can fix that tomorrow after I call out of work. You need anything before I head down, kid?”
You looked at the ground, embarrassed to even ask, “Would you maybe… would it be okay if…. never mind, it’s stupid.” You shook your head and climbed under the comforter, it smelled like Melissa.
She somehow knew exactly what you were asking without hearing the words. She climbed into the bed and lifted an arm for you to scoot in. “Of course, sweet girl, it’s not stupid at all. I’ll keep you safe, promise. Try to get some sleep, I’ll be right here.” You settled into her embrace and took a deep breath.
You whispered, “I love you, thank you.”
“I love you too, baby girl. Sleep tight,” she whispered back before pressing a kiss to the top of your head. Sleep was the last thing on her mind as she held you, watching as the rise of your chest slowed. She stayed awake the whole night, guarding your peace.
Late the following morning, you woke up to an empty bed and the sound of people in the house. You popped your head out into the hallway to see Melissa directing three men where to go with the new bed set. She heard the door creak and looked over at you with an apologetic smile, “Hey, hon, sorry to wake you! They’ll be outta here shortly. I called your school and work to let them know you wouldn’t be in for a few days so you don’t have to worry about it. I washed the clothes that were in your backpack, they’re sitting by my bathroom. There’s also a clean towel for you and a new toothbrush on the counter. You’re welcome to use my hairbrush and whatever else you need.” You smiled back at her and closed the door.
You picked an outfit from the pile of folded clothes and shut the bathroom door to shower. Your body was sore from the adrenaline and you groaned in pain as you shed your pajamas. Standing naked in the mirror, you looked over the marks your mother left on you. The nail marks on your neck were already scabbed over, but the gash under your eye was bruised and definitely going to leave a scar. You traced your fingers along each mark, tears forming in your eyes. The shower was hot enough to leave your skin red, you wanted to burn away any remnants of what happened to you. You sobbed loudly as you tried to detangle the mess of hair your mother created, it hurt and you were so worried that you’s just have to cut it all off.
There was a soft knock at the door. “Ya decent?” You opened the door for her and she gently took the brush from your hands. She directed you to sit backwards on the toilet while she worked at the knots on your head. You nearly fell asleep sitting there as she hummed and massaged conditioner into your hair, working diligently to make sure you kept your beautiful hair.
“You sleep okay,” She asked as she rinsed your hair in the sink.
“That was the best sleep I’ve had in a very long time. I haven’t slept in a bed in months, it was so soft.” You said it like it was nothing.
She paused. “Whatduya mean you haven’t slept in a bed in months?”
You sighed deeply. “They took my bed away because they said I was a whore and didn’t deserve one. I told them that I’m a virgin and they took the door off of my room, callin’ me a liar.” You hadn’t told her that detail when you saw her at one of your track meets a few months before. You figured you’d shared enough heartbreaking details with the woman, she didn’t need to be even more worried about you.
Hot tears silently flowed down her cheeks. She was angry. Not at you for not telling her, but at the low-lifes you called parents. “You gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me,” she spat. She was ready to call in one of her favors from The Tire Iron. “Well I’ll tell ya one thing, kiddo, you ain’t goin’ back there ever again. You’ll never be without ‘long as I’m around, ya got it? And you’re welcome to stay here for as long as you want, no strings attached.”
You choked back your own tears. “Thanks, Ms. Schemmenti. I truly appreciate you.” She wrapped your hair in a towel and you turned to hug her. “What would I do without you?”
“Starve, apparently,” she teased when your stomach growled loudly. She grabbed your chin to look at you, “And no more ‘Ms. Schemmenti’. You can call me Melissa, Mel, Aunt Mel, whatever you want, just not that. You’re family, kid. Now c’mon, I’ll make you something to eat before we head out for a shopping trip.”
“Yes ma’am.”
Her brow furrowed, “You tryin’ to make me feel old? None of that ma’am stuff either.” You giggled and followed her down to the kitchen.
She made French toast and sausage and you devoured the meal in just a few bites. Satisfied with you having eaten, she grabbed her purse, dragged you to the car and pulled out of the driveway. Along the way, she asked you to make a list of anything you might need or want. You took your phone out and looked at it for the first time that day. The screen was full of awful messages from both of your parents and extended family members. You chose to clear the screen and turn off notifications without reading them all and opened your notes app to jot down a few things you knew you missed when packing bags.
Melissa pulled into the mall parking lot and looked over at you, “You look like you’ve seen a ghost, what happened?”
You rubbed your eyes and tried to fake a smile, “Nothin’, I’m just tired.” She knew you well enough to know when you were lying, but she wasn’t going to push you on the subject.
“Mkay, kid. If you decide you wanna talk about it, you know I’ll always listen. And you know I’d kill for ya.” She gently nudged you with her elbow and the two of you made your way into the mall. You showed her your list and she took charge, guiding you around to every clearance rack and bargain bin in the vicinity. You paid for the majority of your new finds, but she insisted on helping with funds here and there. Many stores later Melissa stopped for a bathroom break and you found yourself in front of Auntie Anne’s. Remembering how much she loved soft pretzels- she’d get one every field trip- you decided to buy two, one for each of you. It was a very small token of gratitude, but you knew she’d be excited.
When she exited the bathroom, she scanned the food court for you and found you sitting at a table with all the bags. She sat down across from you and you pushed the soft pretzel her way with a little cup of honey mustard, “Thank you for today. Normally I hate shopping, but you made it fun.”
She gave you an upside down smile and took a bite. “I’m glad I could be a good distraction for ya, hon. And thank you for this!” She clinked her pretzel with yours to ‘cheers’ the day. As you finished your pretzels in silence while people watching, a dress shop on the upper level caught your eye. Despite trying on prom dresses, you never actually bought one.
Melissa‘s eyes followed your gaze and when she spotted the shop she knew what she was going to do. “Hey, I know you said you normally hate shopping, but since we’ve been having so much fun today… why don’t we keep the fun going and go pick out your prom dress? It’s what, two weeks out?”
You shook your head, “Nah, I can’t afford it now that I’ve spent half my savings on shit I needed today. Besides, I got to do prom last year, I’m alright missing out on this one.” You played with the straw in your drink absentmindedly and took the last bite of your pretzel.
Melissa thought back to the conversations she had with you about how excited you were for your senior prom. You buzzed about it every time the two of you spoke for months, it broke her heart to see you resign to not going. “My treat, hon. And I ain’t takin’ no for an answer, I know how bad you wanna go. C’mon,” she said as she prodded you up and dragged you to the dress shop.
You spent about an hour browsing and trying on different dresses, even somehow convinced Melissa to try one on with you for shits and giggles. You pretended not to see her sneak a picture in the mirror of the two of you in the matching dresses, a sweet moment she wanted to remember forever. Finally, you found the right one. The a-line strapless dress stopped mid calf, it was wine red and fit like a dream. When you emerged from the dressing room to show her, she gasped.
“Oh, beautiful girl! My favorite little eagle isn’t so little anymore.” She stuck her bottom lip out in an upside down smile as she reached to tuck your hair away from your eyes. She took a small step back and asked you to spin so she could see it all. The smile on your face told her you made your choice. With misty eyes she pulled you into a tight hug, limiting your ability to breathe.
“I can’t… breathe… help,” you choked out. The redhead lessened her squeeze and apologized but didn’t let go, she needed that moment to collect herself. You stood there embracing each other for a couple of minutes before Melissa finally released you. Once you changed back into your clothes, she took the dress to the register and paid.
You walked out together and stuffed all the bags in the trunk, laying the dress flat in the backseat. “Thank you. For everything, Aunt Mel. For a few hours, it didn’t feel like my world was crashing down around me. I’m lucky to have you.”
She kissed her fingers and then pressed them to your cheek before she started driving. “I’m pretty lucky to have you too, kid. And I’ll always be here to pick up the pieces when you need me.”
The drive back to Melissa’s house was quiet, aside from the classic rock station playing the weekly hits countdown. You checked your silenced notifications to see even more messages and missed calls from your family, Melissa glanced over and saw them too. “If you want, we can change your number this week, that way they can’t bother you anymore,” Melissa offered.
“They still pay for my phone, I can’t. They’d cancel my service the moment they found out.” You shoved your phone back into your pocket.
“Then I’ll just move you over to my cell plan. They don’t deserve the power they have over you, hon.” You opened your mouth to protest but stopped when she pointed at you. “Let me help, please. Because I can and I want to.”
“Thanks, Aunt Mel.”
A few minutes later you arrived back at the townhouse and dragged all of your new belongings up to your new room, hanging up the dress immediately. Melissa said she’d help you make the bed and get settled once she got dinner in the oven. While she was working in the kitchen, you curled up on the couch and flipped the TV on, settling on ‘Rick Steves’ Europe’ reruns. Rick’s comforting voice began to lull you to sleeping and you didn’t have the energy to fight it.
Melissa walked in to tell you she was ready and found you fast asleep. Her heart melted at the sight. She draped the couch blanket over you and lightly tucked it in so as to not disturb your slumber. ‘How could anyone hurt something so precious,’ she thought to herself. After she tucked you in, she made her way upstairs to gather your new sheets and comforter to wash them before starting on the rest of the room.
She grabbed the basket of your clothes from her own room and began to hang them up in your closet. Once she finished the task, she cleaned out the dresser and filled it with your socks, pants, and undergarments. One by one, she removed her family photos from the walls and replaced them with the handful of framed photos you brought with you. She recognized your grandparents’ photo from the one time she had met them at the beginning of your second grade year, right before they passed. They were your best friends, you were safe when they were around. Melissa decided to place the picture on your nightstand so that they’d be watching over you every night. Lastly, she organized your toiletries in the guest bathroom and set out a fresh set of towels and one of her robes.
Satisfied with her progress, she took a short break to check on you, change over the laundry, and take out the lasagna. You were still asleep and she didn’t want to disturb you so she ate alone in the dining room and texted her mother.
-Ma: Hot date?
-Mel: Nah. You remember me telling you about Y/N?
-Ma: You’ve talked about her for the last ten years, yeah I remember. Is the poor kid okay? Her parents treating her like shit again?
-Mel: They kicked her to the curb, said she wasn’t welcome back. She’s staying with me for as long as she needs to.
-Ma: Of course I’ll set an extra place for her, Amore. She need anything? You need anything?
-Mel: She needs all the love she can get, just make her feel like family. I’ve got everything else handled. Thanks, Ma.
-Ma: We can do that. Talk soon.
She finished her meal and gathered the clean bedding from the laundry room, making her way back upstairs to make your bed. Once the sheets were on, she fluffed the comforter and pillows before opening your backpack to retrieve your favorite stuffed animal, Mr. Bunz. Even at eighteen, you slept with him tucked in your arms every night. She hugged the well-loved bunny to her heart and thought back to the day she gave him to you. Right before holiday break your third grade year, she pulled you aside at dismissal and tucked him into your backpack. She told you to give him a hug whenever you needed to feel loved and she wasn’t around to give you a hug herself. Little did she know, that was the only gift you received that year.
Melissa placed him in the middle of the pillows, like the cherry on top, and went back downstairs to wake you for dinner. She sat on the arm of the couch and gently began to run her fingers through your hair. “You need to eat somethin’, sweetheart,” she whispered as your eyes fluttered open. You stretched and sat up, leaning your head against her leg.
“What time is it?”
“About 7:30. You’ve been through a lot the last 24 hours, figured you could use the rest. I got your room all set up for ya. I’ll heat up your plate and we can watch a movie before bed. How’s that sound?”
You rolled off the couch and rubbed your eyes. “Sounds good,” you yawned. You followed the redhead into the kitchen and sat at the counter. She warmed your plate in the microwave and placed it in front of you with a glass of water. You demolished your meal like you hadn’t eaten in days, complimenting her cooking after every other bite. You washed your dishes and then made your way back to the living room, joined by Melissa. She turned on one of your favorite comedy movies and watched the light return to your eyes a little more with each scene.
Sitting there, laughing at the stupid jokes on the screen with the closest thing you’ve ever had to a real mom, with a full stomach and a warm bed waiting for you upstairs, you realized something.
For the first time in your eighteen years of life, you were finally home.
#abbott elementary#melissa schemmenti#melissa schemmenti & you#Mama Melissa#chapter two is mostly finished#slight trauma dump oops#I love passing sad shit on to characters#making my therapist proud
31 notes
·
View notes
Text
Me: I haven't seen any streams or updates about what's happening on the server lately, let's check social media to see what I missed!
Literally the first frickin thing I see: "I can't believe Pac has mommy issues LOL"
Me:
#i talk#stupid fandom opinions that are wildly ooc don't usually bother me THAT much#but this particular one drives me up the frickin wall because it's one of the best examples of#''complete and utter lack of media literacy'' I've seen from the community in a while#just. blatantly understanding Pac as a character and BLATANTLY misinterpreting this scene#Frickin Em literally spelled it out and everyone's like ''lol mommy issues!!! how quirky!!!! xD''#ooc stuff does bother me but it doesnt normally make me MAD but this does. It's just so?????#stupid??? and just??????? I literally cannot comprehend how people can look at that scene#and walk away from it saying ''mommy issues''#Anyways I'm logging out again.#I'm going to writr that giant Pac analysis post once I'm back on desktop#but I'm gonna take a break I literally feel like I lost braincells reading that and what's worse is that it's not just one dumbass#deep sigh.#qsmp talk#fandom wank#it's not really fandom wank but tagging just for the sake of blacklist#It's not fandom wank because I'm RIGHT#I'm usually all for seeing different interpretations of a character but NOT THIS TIME#blatant mischaracterizations that are this bad I don't have patience for#Pac is such a complex character for the love of GOD please stop reducing him to ''quirky tropes'' you think are funny#Anyways. Had to get the salt out so the analysis I post later won't cause sodium poisoning#*** BLATANTLY MISUNDERSTANDING not blatantly understanding. curse you mobile
3 notes
·
View notes
Note
What do you think Alison Weird's personal ranking of the Six Wives is?
God, I hope that's not a typo 😂
This sounds familiar, have I answered this before...? Maybe I need to make a FAQ page.
Can say with fair confidence, because I've read many of her interviews, because apparently I am a masochist that likes to give myself rage headaches, her ranking (from favorite to least is): COA, JS, CParr, Anna of Cleves, KH, and AB.
Funnily enough, I think AB fell and JS rose in her estimation in the last decade or so, in older interviews she really seemed to have more disdain for the latter ( "I wrote a biography of Jane Seymour myself in the 80s, but it wasn’t very long [...] What more is there to say or know about her? I don’t find her a very sympathetic character.") Not to say views can't change, but it's weird in some sense because it seems like her newfound appreciation is not really based on any...new appraisal of evidence? And the same for her newfound disdain (Anne 'loved Elizabeth intensely' --> 'Anne had gender disappointment syndrome', which seems nastily specific, like, even if she did come across contemporary accounts that make it seem like Anne 'fades' a bit after Elizabeth's birth which, it doesn't seem she did, why that in particular and not like, postpartum depression, instead...?)
#i don't think she likes~ kh and similary she seems to intensely dislike both of them on some level for being 'mean' to henry (spare me)#but i mean....she did give her a much more peaceful death than she did anne . like i can't walk away from that thinking anything other#than that she REALLY intensely hates anne#if one had to guess i would say that she has more antipathy reserved for AB > KH as 'heroines' because AB supplanted HER heroine#not to speak of the (transphobic) dead or whatever but i do wonder almost if it's a similar think to mantel...#which was that somehow her hostile perspective on AB got tied up in her mommy issues#just bcus the way she hates anne it's like she reminds her of someone or like anne is someone she knows personally even...#*similarly#*in weir's series of six wives novels. a curse upon whoever gave her than book deal fr and im so serious#i want to go to the sliding doors where that series does not exist almost as much as i want to go to the one without covid#*similar thing#anon#*that#*ill of the#maybe i need to stop trying to elaborate in tags. lordt
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
"Let's Have a Talk, First"- Stereotypes, pt 1
Come sit down. You and I, before we get into any of the things I'm sure you're impatient to know: we need to have a come to Jesus talk, first.
There are some things that I've been asked and seen that strengthens my belief that we need to have a reframing of the conversation on stereotypes in media away from something as simple as "how do I find the checklist of stereotypes to avoid". Because race- and therefore racial stereotypes- is a complex construct! Stands to reason then, that seeing, understanding, and avoiding it won't be that simple! I'm going to give you a couple pointers to (hopefully) help you rethink your approach to this topic, and therefore how to apply it when you're writing Black characters- and even when thinking about Black people!
Point #1: DEVELOP THE CHARACTER!! WRITE!!
Excuse my crude language, but let me be blunt: Black people- and therefore Black characters- will get angry at things, and occasionally make bad choices in the heat of the moment. Some of us like to fuck real nasty, some might be dominant in the bedroom, they may even be incredibly experienced! Others of us succumb to circumstance and make poor decisions that lead to crime.
None of those things inherently makes any of us angry Black women and threatening Black men, Jezebels and BBC Mandingos, and gangsters and thugs!
Black people are PEOPLE! Write us as such!
If all Black characters ever did was go outside, say "hi neighbor!" and walk back in the house, we'd be as boring as racist fans often accuse.
I say this because I feel I've seen advice that I feel makes people think writing a Black character that… Emotes negatively, or gets hurt by life and circumstance, or really enjoys hard sex, or really any scenario where they might "look bad" is the issue. I can tell many people think "well if I write that, then it's a stereotype" and to avoid the difficulty, they'll probably end up writing a flat Black character or not writing them at all. Or- and I've seen this too- they'll overcompensate in the other direction, which reveals that they 'wrote a different sort of Black person!' and it comes off just as awkwardly because it means you think that the Black people that do these things are 'bad'. And I hate that, because we're capable of depth, nuance, good, evil, adventure, world domination, all of it!
My point is, if you write your character like the human being they are, while taking care to recognize that you as the writer are not buying into stereotypes with your OWN messaging, you're fine. We have emotions, we have motivations and goals, we make decisions, and we make mistakes, just like anybody else. Write that! Develop your character!
POINT #2: YOU CAN'T CONTROL THE READERS!!
Okay. You can write the GREATEST Black character ever, full of depth, love, nuance, emotional range, all those things…. And people are still going to be racist about them. Sorry. There is absolutely nothing you can do to control a reader coming from that place of bias you sought to avoid. If it's not there, TRUST AND BELIEVE, it'll be projected onto them.
That passionate young Black woman who told the MC to get her head out of her ass? Yeah she's an angry Black bitch now, and bully to the sweet white MC. Maybe a lesbian mommy figure if they like her enough to "redeem" her. That Black gay male lead that treats his partner like he worships the ground he walks on? Yeah he's an abusive thug that needs to die now because he disagreed One Time with his white partner. That Black trans woman who happened to be competing against the white MC, in a story where the white MC makes comparable choices? Ohhhh they're gonna be VILE about that poor woman.
It really hurts- most especially as a Black fan and writer- knowing that you have something amazing to offer (as a person and creative) and people are gonna spit on that and call it "preference". That they can project themselves onto white characters no matter what, but if you project your experiences onto black characters, it's "pandering", "self insert", "woke", "annoying", "boring", and other foul things we've all gotten comments of.
But expect that it's gonna happen when you write a Black character, again, especially if you're a Black writer. If you're not Black, it won't hurt as personally, but it will probably come as a shock when you put so much effort in to create a lovely character and people are just ass about them. Unfortunately, that is the climate of fandom we currently exist in.
My favorite example is of Louis De Pointe Du Lac from AMC's Interview With The Vampire. Louis is actually one of the best depictions of the existential horror that is being Black in a racist White world I have ever seen written by mostly nonblack people. It was timeless; I related to every single source of racist pain he experienced.
People were HORRIFIC about Louis.
It didn't matter that he was well written and what he symbolized; many white viewers did NOT LIKE this man. There's a level of empathy and understanding that Black characters in particular don't receive in comparison to white counterparts, and that's due to many of those stereotypes and systemic biases I'm going to talk about.
My point is, recognize that while yes, you as the author have a duty to write a character thoughtfully as you can, it's not going to stop the response of the ignorant. Writing seeking to get everyone to understand what you were trying to do… Sisyphean effort. It's better to focus on knowing that YOU wrote something good, that YOU did not write the stereotype that those people are determined to see.
POINT #3: WHY is something a stereotype?
While there are lists of stereotypes against Black people in media and life that can be found, I would appreciate if people stopped approaching it as just a list of things you can check off to avoid. You can know what the stereotypes are, sure, but if you don't understand WHY they're a problem and how they play into perception of us, you'll either end up writing a flat character trying to avoid that list, or you're going to write other things related to that stereotype because "oh its not item #1"... and it'll still be racist.
For example: if you wrote a "sassy Black woman" that does a z formation neck rotation just because a store manager asked her something… that's probably stereotype. If you thought of a character that needed to be "loudmouthed", "sassy", and "strong" and a dark-skinned black woman was automatically what fit the profile in your mind, ding ding ding! THAT'S where you need to catch your racist biases.
But a dark-skinned Black woman character cursing out a store manager because she's had a really bad, stressful day and their attitude towards her pushed her over the edge may be in the wrong, but she's not an "angry Black woman". She's a Black woman that's angry! And if you wrote the day she had to be as bad as would drive anyone to overstimulation and anxiety, the blow up will make sense! The development and writing behind her led to this logical point (which connects to point #1!)
I'm not going to provide a truly exhaustive list of Black stereotypes in media because that would ACTUALLY be worth a college credited class and I do this for free lmao. But I am going to provide some classic examples that can get y'all started on your own research.
POINT #4: WATCH BLACK NARRATIVES!
As always, I'm gonna push supporting Black creators, because that's the best way to see the range of what you'd like. You want to see Black villains? We got those! Black heroes? Black antiheroes? Assholes, lovers, comedians, depressed, criminals, kings, and more? They exist! You can get inspired by watching those movies and reading those books, see how WE depict us!
I've seen mixed reviews on it, BUT- I personally really enjoyed Swarm, because it was one of the first times I'd ever seen that "unhinged obsessed murderous Black fan girl" concept. Tumblr usually loves that shit lmao. Even the "bites you bites you bites you [thing I love]" thing was there. And she liked girls, too. Just saying. I thought it was a fun idea that I'd love to see more of. Y'all gotta give us a chance to be in these roles, to tell these tales. We can do it too, and you'd enjoy it if you tried to understand it!
POINT#5: You are NOT Black!
This is obvious lmao, but if you're not Black, there's no need to pretend. There's no need to think "oh well I have to get a 100% perfect depiction of the Black person's mind". That's… That's gonna look cringe, at its best. You don't have to do that in order to avoid stereotypes. You're not going to be able to catch every nuance because it's not your lived experience, nor is it the societally enforced culture. Just… Do what you can, and if you feel like it's coming off hokey… Maybe consider if you want to continue this way lol. If you know of any Black beta readers or sensitivity reviewers, that'd be a good time to check in!
For example, if your Black character is talking about "what's good my homie" and there's absolutely no reason for him to be speaking that way other than to indicate that he's Black… 😬 I can't stop you but… Are you sure?
An egregious example of a TERRIBLE way to write a Black character is the "What If: Miles Morales/Thor" comic. I want to emphasize the lack of good Black character design involved in some of these PROFESSIONAL art spaces, because that MARVEL comic PASSED QA!! That comic went past NUMEROUS sets of eyes and was APPROVED!! IT GOT RELEASED!! NO ONE STOPPED IT!!
I'm sorry, it was just so racist-ly bad that it was hilarious. Like you couldn't make that shit up.
Anyway, unfortunately that's how some of y'all sound trying to write AAVE. I promise that we speak the Queen's English too lmao. If you're worried you won't get it right, just use the standard form of English. It's fine! Personally, I'd much rather you do that than try to 'decode AAVE' if you don't know how to use it.
My point is, if you're actively "forcing" yourself to "think Black"… maybe you need to stand down and reconsider your approach lmao. This is why understanding the stereotypes and social environment behind them will help you write better, because you can incorporate that Blackness- without having to verbally "emphasize how Black this is"- into their character, motivations, and actions.
Conclusion
We need to reconsider how we approach the concepts of stereotypes when writing our Black characters. The goal is not to cross off a checklist of things to avoid per se, but to understand WHY we have to develop our Black characters well enough to avoid incorporating them into our writing. Give your Black characters substance- we're human beings! We have motivations and fears and desires! We're not perfect, but we're not inherently flawed because of our race. That's what makes the difference!
And as always, and really in particular for this topic, it's the thought that counts, but the action that delivers!
968 notes
·
View notes
Text
OBSESSED: ITADORI
A/N: Quarterback Itadori with #20 on his jersey realizes he has a little (big) problem with a certain cheerleader turned Chem tutor (who also happens to be just a little bit older 🤭). Anon this one is for you! I hope you enjoy 💋
S/N: I’ve never giggled so much writing a piece. This one was so funny to me.
C/W: Aged up characters (19+), college AU, Mature, 18+
“ITADORI!”
Oh for fucks sake.
Yuji can’t drag away from the pyramid of cheerleaders right of center field.
“Coach?”
“IF YOU WANT TO WEAR A SKIRT AND BACKFLIP FOR THE BOYS THEN JUST SAY THAT?!”
His teammates erupt in a chorus of laughter. Coach Yaga is an ass.
Fact.
But he is also living, breathing, comedic relief.
“I would coach, but they aren’t my type!”
Yuji yells back, eyes still lasered to your back. He knows it’ll sear Yaga’s skin right off the bone.
Whatever.
What’s a few more seconds, right?
You are just so…hot.
In a mind-bending kinda way. An optical illusion. Or desert mirage.
A fresh water oasis in a destitute wasteland. Always just a few more steps away. No matter how long he’s been crawling on his knees.
His knees.
He’d kill to be on his knees for you. Diving head first into—
“SHUT THE HELL UP AND GET BACK ON THE FIELD. PINK TOP IDIOT!!”
“Yes sir!” Times up.
“Dude, she’s a smoke show.”
The team’s starting running back (#14) rests his arm on Yuji’s shoulder. Just as four bodies fling you so far against gravity it is questionable whether you’ll come down.
“She’s perfect.”
“And a junior.” #14 reminds him, tugging his helmet back over his head.
“So?”
“Okay, freshmeat. Someone’s got mommy issues.”
Yuji bursts into full belly laughter. Stealing one last glance at you before pulling his helmet on.
His teammates never fail to remind him that he’s the only freshman in Tokyo University history to make starting lineup.
Not to mention quarterback.
“#14, #20 IF YOU DONT STOP RUBBING DICKS ILL WEAR BOTH OF YOUR ASSES TO THE BONE THIS AFTERNOON.”
Yuji promptly takes position at center field. He knows better than to push his luck. Two-a-days are already brutal enough, he has no intention of making his life harder than it is.
But you do.
You are setting flames to the hoops Yuji has to jump through to get through study hall and afternoon practice.
Why else would you wear those yoga pants?
They’re a second skin, for Christ’s sake.
Might as well be body paint. Outlining every tantalizing, serpentine curve. Pretty, full hips. Plump, tight ass. The mouthwatering, puffy rose between your legs just begging to be watered. By his tongue.
Yuji’s palm digs into his crotch. Trying to force his pulsating length from tenting up into the table. Cursing himself for changing out of his compression shorts.
“Hello? Yuji?”
Your dulcet voice echoes between his ears and curls around his dick. Jerking him back down to earth.
“Y-yeah? Hi.”
Yuji forces an acknowledgement through the sharp edges of his voice box. Sitting fully erect in his seat. Scrambling to find the pencil that was supposed to be mirroring your work on the whiteboard.
Because not only are you a perfect 10 on and off the field; you are a prodigy when it comes to chemistry.
And currently in the middle of trying to diffuse some of your excess knowledge into his very deficient head.
You toss your head back. Your laughter is definitely why tales of fishermen being lost at sea exists.
Light.
Breathy.
Soprano crescendo that’s rutting against the few folds in his brain.
“Why are you so distracted today, Yu?”
“Distracted?” His voice cracks.
“Ha—no, I’m not distracted. Sorry, walk me through it again.”
But before Yuji can retreat back into his daydream, you catch him in the Venus fly trap of your gaze. Tilting your head slightly.
Yuji swallows thickly. Frozen in place. Hand pushing down on his cock with all his might. As if you could see through the table.
Did you know he was staring at your ass? Can you tell how hard he is? Is there drool on his face? Shit, there must—
“Woah, the way the sun is catching your eyes right now, Yu.”
You take a half step to the side, allowing the full beam of light to caress Yuji’s already hot face.
A shaky hand swipes along the back of his neck.
“H-huh?”
“Your eyes are so pretty. Warm. Like hot chocolate with cinnamon.”
Your full lips curl into a soft smile. And Yuji bites down a pitiful whine.
“I—thanks.” You don’t hear him. Because he whispers through a wired shut jaw.
Yuji lets his erection tent up, grazing the table. He fists his base through his athletic pants. Ears fiery hot with embarrassment. His hand glides up and down his clothed cock without his permission.
Did you know?
That you snapped his self-control in half?
And shoved him into the darkest recesses of his mind?
Where his most depraved thoughts (and the King of Curses) lives?
Because all Yuji can see is the way your ass ripples and bounces while you scribble hieroglyphics on the whiteboard.
His mind’s eye is currently picturing him fucking you dumber than he is.
Fist full of hair in one hand. Both of your wrists behind your back in another. Mesmerized by the way your plump, fleshy mounds slam against his hips.
Maybe he’ll fuck you in front of a mirror?
So he can make you repeat how pretty you think his eyes are while he brands the shape of his cock into you.
Then he’ll tell you how pretty you are. Creaming all around his length. Drool raining down from your lips in sync with his thrusts.
Maybe he’ll stick a dildo on the mirror so he can watch your mouth get stuffed while he violates your insides?
You’ll look so pretty. When he fills you up with something warm. A little thicker than ‘hot chocolate with cinnamon.’
“Yu? Are you okay?” Genuine concern knocks his lust-drunk thoughts loose.
Yuji blinks himself back to this dimension. Chest heaving. Cramps blooming from his fingertips to his biceps from grasping his sex so hard. He doesn’t need a mirror to know he’s stained blood red. From chin to hairline.
“I-uh. Sick. I’m—I feel sick. Be right back.” He takes off to the male locker room at inhuman speed.
Yuji nearly doubles over the porcelain sink, glaring at his blown out pupils. Olive skin flushed like he just finished a marathon.
He can’t believe he was just groping himself like that in public. In plain sight.
All because you complimented his eyes?!
Who the hell is he?
“Sukuna, give it a rest.”
Yuji hisses poison at his curse. Because he surely wasnt responsible for those lewd actions.
“Oh, I’ll rest you PERMANENTLY you asinine little b—“
“I’m serious. Quit it.”
Yuji darts around the empty locker room. Accidentally raising his voice.
“Quit what, brat?”
“Quit…making me think..things like that.”
Sukuna’s bellowing laughter sounds like nails on a chalkboard. Deafening between Yuji’s ears.
“That’s all you kid. I’m only 10 fingers in. Don’t have that power…yet.”
Sukuna retreats to Yuji’s subconscious. Leaving him stunned. Disbelief crashing into him like tornado winds.
Yuji has never been a pervert.
Sure, he’s had crushes. But he knows how to control his impulses.
He might be dumb like one, but he’s not an actual dog…right?
Wrong.
Yuji dives into an empty stall while his teammates file in. Study hall is complete and afternoon warm-ups are starting soon.
And his neglected, weeping sex is clamoring for attention.
Missing it’s muse — your soft, curvy frame and the ways he wants to fill you.
One hand clamps over his mouth. While the other one tugs his pants down. Thick, heavy length springing free. Sticky and slick with his precum.
His head meets the cool wall. Hips thrusting against his fist. Broken whimpers pushing through the web spaces of his fingers that are digging into his cheek. Choking himself quiet so no one hears his pathetic hormone driven state.
“Mnnhgh f—fuck.” Muffled curses slip past his hand.
His cock is red and engorged. Angry from his abuse. But his hips can’t stop rutting into his hand. Picturing abusing your pretty, swollen cunt.
A hot tear rolls along his cheek, between his fingers. Salty on his tongue.
Curtains start to shade his vision and Yuji’s hands move to cup his bulbous tip. His muscular core tenses and strings of warm, thick seed fills his hands.
The world slowly starts to piece together. His heart rattling in its cage comes to a normal pace. Choppy, incomplete breaths gradually replaced with deep, relaxed ones.
Shit.
He’s in trouble.
Because he needs to pass chemistry to play football. And he needs you to pass.
But he can’t ever look you in the eye again after this display.
After one measly compliment.
How will he act if you bend over in front of him?
Or lean over a little too far?
God forbid you touch his arms or brush against him.?
Then a lightbulb goes off.
Yuji has the perfect solution.
He scrambles to clean up. Putting on his street clothes. Ignoring the quizzical looks from his teammates. He’s going to fix his little problem.
“Coach Yaga?” Yuji is met with an open office door and his coach’s nostrils flaring. Vein along his temple pulsing.
He draws in a steadying breath.
“I can’t play football anymore coach. I quit.”
“….YOU WHAT?!?!”
#jjk fanfic#jjk smut#yuji itadori#jjk itadori#itadori x reader#yuji itadori x reader#jujutsu itadori#itadori smut#itadori x you#itadori fluff#yuji smut#yuji x reader#jjk yuji#jjk x reader#itadori yuuji#jjk yuuji#yuuji x reader#yuuji smut#jujutsu kaisen yuuji#yuuji fluff#yuuji x you#jjk#jjk x you#jjk fluff#jjk gojo#jjk x y/n#anime smut#jjk imagines#jjk headcanons#jjk spoilers
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
She’s Not Mad
Summary: Bucky Barnes was a known people pleaser, it was second nature to him. After meeting you and getting close you both try to navigate his eternal stressed state, working together you try your best to tone down his obsessive ways.
Words: 9k (if you’ve been wondering where I’ve been...)
Warnings: Bucky has mommy issues, mentions of oral sex, nudity, angst, fluff, college!bucky, slow burn
A/N: thanks for the patience!
Masterlist
A Couple of Weeks Ago…
“So, you’re not a thing?” Bucky asked as he shoved his laptop and notebook back into his bag, grabbing the handle of his water bottle and choosing to carry it with him for the walk.
The two boys were higher up in the rows of the lecture hall as they peered over the two girls talking to the professor. Steve had his eyes drilled into Natasha, the girl standing off to the side as her friend went over a question she had.
“She told me she is still figuring out her feelings since her last serious relationship,” Steve sighed as he packed up as well, “and I told her I’d wait- apparently this guy’s parents had given their family engagement ring and everything.”
Bucky pulled the corner of his lips out tight as they began to walk down the stairs, “who’s the other girl?”
“The one that was just asking the question is Y/N,” Steve watched as both girls left the room, “good friends, met last year, live together now.”
“She’s cute,” Bucky said purely, no smirk or innuendo.
********
You sat over your laptop in the library with both hands acting as a brim to cover your eyes from the people around you. Tears rolled down your face as you studied the practice question, you felt pathetic and you tried to sniffle as quietly as possible. If anyone saw you silently bawling you’d drop out, it was stupid enough already when the librarian walked over and dropped a tissue box off without saying a word.
“What do you mean?” you whispered to the page for the hundredth time, hoping for some answer.
You had done the homework, you went to the study groups, you even extended your prof's office hours because you wanted to make sure you were doing everything right. Yet here you were, sitting alone on a Friday night because you still can’t do the practice assignment. Quitting felt like the only option, it wasn’t like everything was going to click; it was too late.
This was just going to become the thing that you could never do, simple as that. Sometimes there are subjects that no matter how hard you try, you don’t have the flair. It was a tough pill to swallow but you’d never be able to do any work if you’d continue to hold yourself to a high standard, it was a win to get the little things right, not the entire question.
The idea of failing was new to you. The jump from high school to college was still something you never adapted to, you always expected nineties on everything and not the mindset that C’s get degrees.
Trying to do the question was like beating a dead horse, you needed a break. You ran your hands over your face and leaned back in your chair, hearing pops from your back as you did so, until you were leaning back and looking up at the ceiling. When you looked straight you saw someone already staring at you.
He had longer brown hair that hit his jawline, blue eyes that jumped out at you, and a very concerned look on his face. He was familiar but you didn’t know what it was from.
“Are you Natasha’s friend?” The guy came up to your empty table.
“Yeah?” You wiped away your tears, extremely confused as he pulled out the chair right beside you to sit at the eight sided table.
“I’m good friends with Steve, I think the two of them have something going on- not important, but I kind of know you and I'd rather not leave someone I kinda know alone crying, so…” he rubbed the back of his neck, “are you okay?”
“Do I look okay?” you rolled your eyes and faced your computer again, “the absolute last thing I need is something watching me cry, alright?” your bottom lip wobbled as you kept your eyes away from his at all times.
He was still staring at you, “come on,” he sighed and moved his hand to comfort you but thought otherwise, “I’m not going to laugh at you or run and tell everyone I know I saw a girl crying in the library- y’know what they’d say?” You could see him tilt his head, “they’d say what’s the big deal, haven’t we all?”
You scoffed, “no they wouldn’t.”
“You’re calling me a liar?”
“I don’t even know your name.”
“Bucky,” he stuck out his hand, “Bucky Barnes.” You shook his hand, “and since I am a Barnes and was raised by my ma I simply can not let this continue, it’s my obligation to either cheer you up or take you home.”
You scoffed again and tried your best to hide your smile, “and I’m Y/N, and in my family we stress about everything and never give up so I can’t leave until I get this question, so…”
Bucky’s tongue poked the inside of his cheek as he flipped the laptop to face him a little better, “this is the class all four of us have together, alright,” he read over the question and immediately furrowed his brows before looking at you again, trying your best to hold it together. He knew the answer but couldn’t bear to see your reaction, it was painfully obvious you were beating yourself stupid over these questions.
“Can you take a deep breath for me?” he asked like he was talking to a child.
“I barely know you, dude,” you crossed your arms and ripped your laptop back to face you, “and I’ll have you know I don’t need a man to come in here and explain everything to me, alright, I’m going to figure this out on my own and I don’t need you, okay? So just head home, tell Steve I say hi.”
Bucky took a deep breath himself, “that question isn’t marked on the homework, the reason you can’t get the answer is because the way to get it has most likely not been taught yet,” he paused and saw your face crumble, “and I didn’t want to freak you out because you look like you’ve been here a while and you seem to be beating yourself up and I just couldn’t-”
“Stop,” you whispered and covered your face with your hands, “just stop talking.”
And he did.
Trying your best to calm your breaths, it didn’t work. So fucking stupid, unbelievable, there’s no way you just spent close to an hour staring at a problem you didn’t even have to do in the first place.
“Can you walk me home?” you squeeked.
“Of course,” Bucky stood up right away and started helping you pack your bag, “I have some water, do you want it?” He held up his water bottle. You nodded and began drinking as you both made your way outside and towards your off-campus house.
“Did you need to study?” you asked as you screwed on the cap.
Bucky laughed and looked up at the night sky, “I was going for a walk because I heard there was a blood moon tonight, and there is, look,” he point up and saw the red mood looming above both of you, “and I just happened to walk past the library, I looked in the window and recognised your laptop as well as your hair, funny enough,” he laughed as he looked forward again.
“So you just came in to see me?” you needed to make sure you were hearing this right, it’s not like it happens often.
“I was going to introduce myself to you actually,” Bucky shrugged and looked over at you, “I know Steve and Nat are trying to figure things out and I thought friends of two people who might date should know one another. Then I saw you crying so I changed my game plan.”
You just nodded, slightly brushing into Bucky’s arm as you walked. It was hard to stay straight with the exhaustion taking over, every now and then you’d brush your knuckles past Bucky’s. He was a cute guy, and something about him being oh so caution around you made you feel important.
“This is me,” you said later as you walked up the steps, “thanks Bucky, I hope we can be friends.”
Bucky smiled and stood at the bottom of the steps, “if you ever get in your head again like that and need someone to pull you away, let me know- even in the middle of the night, alright?”
“Alright,” you laughed with your hand on the door handle.
“I’m serious, Y/N. I look after the people close to me, I look after friends of friends like siblings,” there was no joking in his tone, it seemed other people doubted him on this promise. “I’ll give you my number,” he hand reached out for your phone.
“I’ll be fine, you seemed to have good luck running into me,” you giggle and open the door to your house. Before it fully closed you felt resistance, looking over your shoulder you saw Bucky holding open your door.
He was smiling, “then give me your number for another reason.”
“Oh?” you turned and placed a hand on your chest, “you’re rather forward.
“Well being cryptic didn’t work, did it?” He laughed and held out his hand again, “come on, I might need a study buddy one day- or even better, a lunch buddy.” you laughed as he tried to duck to meet your eyeline, “you don’t want to be my lunch buddy?”
“I’ll be your lunch buddy,” you giggled and handed him your phone, he wasted no time adding it in. “Goodnight,” you whispered and made it into your house, leaning back and resting against the door. You thought for a moment before breaking into a massive smile, replaying how he tried to keep eye contact with you. Or how he’d been so proud of how his mother raised him- “son of a bitch,” you whispered.
He walked you back home and cheered you up.
Just like he said he would.
A Few Days Later…
Your phone must be hacked or something because your weather app said it would be completely clear today and sunny in the afternoon. As you sat in the cafe you thought it would clear up but it was only getting worse.
All you needed to do was brave the rain and make your way home, but waiting for the perfect time when everything would let up for a moment was pointless.
Walking as fast as you can with your head down, you saw your grey sweatpants become a darker shade instantly. It was a straight downpour with absolutely no sign of letting up, you swore you heard thunder when you waited at the crosswalk. Due to your phone lying to you, you had not brought a hooded article of clothing or umbrella so you just had to deal with everything going wrong.
There definitely was thunder and the lightning was right above you, it seemed like you were the last person on Earth because everyone else was smart enough to stay inside right now; but not you. Down your little street you began to run, trying to get away from the lightning that was chasing you.
If you could guess you’d say most people who had been struck by lightning most likely thought they were too far away, in denial as the sky opened up from above. It was hard to admit you were actually a little scared at that moment, rain getting in your eyes as you sprinted down to your house that was now in view.
With your key at the ready you fell inside, slamming the door behind you.
Natasha rounded the corner, “you idiot, I was trying to call you!” She screamed and saw your state, “Steve and Bucky are over-they drove over they could have picked you up,” Natasha got in your face to peel off the sweater, taking it off right over your head and leaving you in your bralette and those drenched sweatpants.
“You took off my shirt when there’s boys here?” you whispered as you began to shake, covering your chest with crossed arms.
“We guessed you were walking back so we put towels in the dryer,” as if on cue Bucky rounded the same corner with your fluffy towel ready, “thank you Bucky,” Natasha wrapped it around your shoulders.
“Hi, Bucky,” you squeeked, “glad we keep meeting like this.”
Natasha had walked upstairs, most likely getting different pants. Bucky got down on one knee and slipped off your shoes, “like what?” he asked as he looked up, he reminded you of a little puppy somehow. He was as big as a great dane but there was an underlying softness that made you want to hug him or just let him wrap his arm around you.
You huffed as you pulled the towel tighter, “when I’ve just done something embarrassing and you’re there to save the day.”
Bucky stood up with his arms crossed, “only you would think crying or getting caught in the rain is embarrassing,” he shook his head and reached out to rub your shoulder that was covered by the towel, “I like helping and I like making sure people I know are okay, you know this.”
“I do,” you whispered and walked further in your house. Before you could get anywhere near comfortable Natasha whisked you away to change your soggy pants as well as throw on a sweater, they had also been thrown in the drier, everything was very toasty and warm.
Steve was sitting on the couch, staring intensely at the football game going on. Natasha guided you back in and towards the couch. There was enough room for four of you but you knew thighs would be pressed up against one another, you were okay with that if Bucky was sitting beside you. Though you don’t see him often it was nice when you did even though you made it seem like it was embarrassing. Something about having someone who loves taking care of people take care of you so well caused you to crave it a little more.
Bucky came around the couch with a mug, “hot chocolate for you,” he whispered and took the spot beside you, next to the arm rest. You thanked him and let your hand slightly burn on the mug when you held it, liking how the warmth began to spread up your arms. Natasha found her spot on the other side of you while Steve stayed on the edge, leaning forward and never looking away from the game.
“This is really good,” you sipped it and whispered to Bucky, he just smiled and leaned into your side for a moment.
“What were you working on?” he asked after a moment.
“I was at the cafe for a little treat but before I was doing my elective course,” you spoke softly. It seemed like everything happened for a reason because you only got food at the cafe which left room for this hot chocolate now.
“And that is?” Bucky giggled as he leaned forward again.
“Art history,” suddenly, you were coy. Most people thought your elective was a bird course but to you it was actually interesting, it wasn’t often you were met with a positive response.
His eyes got wide, “that’s sick!” Bucky readjusted himself off the couch, “I would have never even thought of that course, wow, that’s really cool. So, like, what do you-”
“Bucky, I love you, brother, I really do but-” Steve sighed, “can you please be quiet, this game is very important.”
“I didn’t think the Big Game was on today?” you asked as you took another sip.
“It’s not that,” Steve places his beer down, “it’s the State Cup Finals, it’s college football.”
Natasha smiled and looked over, “his team’s the underdog and are actually on the road to winning the entire thing!” She giggled and linked an arm with Steve who was happy to cuddle up with her, “it’s actually very exciting once you learn the ins and outs of it.”
You just nodded and faced forward again, seeing Bucky out of the corner of your eyes rubbing his thumb on the neck of his beer bottle, staring off into space. The moment you leaned your head on his shoulder he looked over at you, your heart broke when you saw a sad smile. He was just trying to talk to you, he got excited for you and here he was being scolded.
“Do you want to come look at some of my notes, or are you into this game?” you whispered and saw his eyes light up, both of you quickly stood and headed up stairs with your bag slung over your shoulder.
The moment you walked into your room you felt everything slow down, Bucky slowly walked in and looked around. He was smiling to himself as he l took in your photos on the walls or posters, even your to do list seemingly growing on the white board you have mounted to one wall.
You sat on the corner of your bed as he flipped through your notes, “so you’re, like, breaking down these paintings, it's not just the history of when they were painted?”
“Oh yeah,” you fiddled with the hem of your dry sweater, “most of these artist go insane and we look for that in the work or even just what was happening during the time with stuff that you’d learn in a normal history class but we look at if and when it get put into art,” this was your little thing you could talk about for ages, “very cool stuff.”
Bucky nodded and flipped the pages, “your notes are amazing,” he whispered, “you’re a pretty good student, huh?” he looked over his shoulder and saw you sitting there, just staring at him as he made his way around your room. “What?” he giggled and made his way over to you, holding his hand out to get you to stand up.
“Nothing,” you tucked your chin to your chest, getting coy at the attention. “You’re just…y’know, sweet.”
Bucky just smiled and rubbed your arm, giggling as you both stared at one another for a moment. “Do you want to go back down?”
“Sure,” you nodded and leaned forward, smiling as you both made your way back downstairs.
The rain still worked its way down your windows as the beers and wine kept flowing. The game had ended a while ago but Steve and Bucky didn’t see a reason to leave, it was a good moment that no one wanted to end. You had finished your hot chocolate and moved onto wine, sipping it slowly as everyone talked. It was nice to be brought into this group even though it stemmed from Nat and Steve, there was good chemistry between the four of you.
Talking to everyone was effortless, you didn’t need to act like someone else to fit in. no one was yelling over someone else to get their point across, there weren't any passive aggressive tones in anyone's jokes, it was carefree. It was relaxing to have people this easy to talk to.
The only thing that wasn’t relaxing was the amount of times you caught Bucky staring at you. Everyone had migrated to the floor with their backs against different furniture so you could break out the board games, Bucky was sitting adjacent to you on your right and Steve adjacent on your left, Nat right in front. Every single move whether it be placing a card down or moving your little object around the board Bucky would find a reason to look at you.
“Good one,” he’d pat your shoulder.
“Let me move your piece for you,” he’d say before you could reach across the table.
“Sorry…” he’d smile before taking your little object and moving it back four spots.
He was very attentive, always watching and scanning. But the more you noticed it the more you figured out he was doing it to everyone, including Steve. Something happened whenever Bucky would either move Steve’s piece for him or go get another beer so he wouldn’t have to stand up, Steve would give this look. It seemed as though he was silently telling Bucky he knew something or he was pointing something out that had been a topic of conversation before. Bucky would try to laugh it off but Steve was very protective of Bucky, you just didn’t know why.
The games had slowly come to a close, everyone not drunk but a little more than tipsy. Giggles flowed freely around the table as the conversation resumed again, your eyes were growing heavy as you traced the rim of your glass.
“I’ll be back,” Bucky muttered as he headed to the washroom.
The moment the door closed Steve sighed, “this kid.”
“What?” you were getting protective, why was Steve about to talk shit about his best friend?
Steve just shook his head, “It’s hard to see how badly Winnie fucked him up.”
Your heart plummeted. Any tiredness had left your body faster than the little gasp escaped your lips. Who was this Winnie girl and why did he mess Bucky up? The thoughts circled your head, was he in an abusive relationship? Natasha looked like she didn’t know either, pouring more wine into her cup.
When Bucky came back he sat closer to you and you couldn’t help but reach out and wrapped your arm around his. He must have been a little surprised but you rested your head on his shoulder and continued on like it was nothing.
You were half asleep when Bucky tried to do something for Steve, maybe get him another beer but whatever it was it left Bucky looking like a sad puppy because Steve said, “Buck, relax, I can get my beers, thank you, but I got it, alright?”
Steve's tone was soft but also commanding, he wasn’t annoyed at all. With your eyes closed you pieced it together that Steve was trying to help Bucky in some way, maybe get him to relax a little more. It was out of love but Bucky was very quiet for the rest of the night.
********
You and Bucky had started hanging out a lot more on your own. There were a lot of late night drives or study sessions, Bucky always came to the library to walk you home if you stayed late or had turned your brain into mush during your studying.
What Steve had said stuck with you more than you thought it would, it didn’t impact how you saw Bucky but it made you more aware of his people pleasing tendencies. You wanted to do the same as Steve, tell him it was okay but you weren’t as close. You saw how hurt he was the last time and you just couldn’t do it to him.
Currently you were both sitting on his bed, the movie was wrapping up. Half of his laptop sat on one thigh and the other half sat on Bucky’s, your arms were linked and there was a steady brushing of your thumb on his forearm. In all honesty, you thought you were lulling him to sleep when you looked up five minutes ago to see him fighting his dropping lids.
When the movie faded to black both of you sat there for a moment, content with the sitcom that was coming up next. You looked up again to see him with his face scrunched up, his other hand was on his back.
“What is it?” you asked and leaned over, he was rubbing a specific spot on his lower back with his thumb.
Bucky held his breath as he leaned forward to move his hand, “I was working out this morning and there weren't any belts left for my deadlifts and I did something to my back.”
“Do you want a massage?” you offered, he’d do the same for you.
“I’m okay, thanks,” he looked down at your head resting on his bicep.
“I didn’t know you worked out,” you smiled, “you don’t have the, like, bodybuilder physique.”
Bucky laughed and wiped at his eyes, giggling to himself before answering. “I don’t want that look, but…” you could see the boast on the top of his tongue, he poked his tongue on the inside of his cheek.
“Tell me!” you sat up, taking the laptop off your lap so you could fully face him now, “are you, like, ripped or something?” you both laughed as he hugged himself so you couldn’t feel or see anything, “you are, shut up!” you placed both hands on his shoulders, his face so red from laughing and embarrassment you just wanted to take a bite out of it.
“Steve calls it a sleeper build,” Bucky managed to wheeze out, he was trying to play-fight you off of him.
“What the fuck is that?!” you gasped as your hands reached out but he copied you and intertwined his fingers with yours.
“It’s when someone has muscle but you can’t really see it in normal clothing,” his face was calming down as well, but that stupid smile was still on his face. “It just kinda happened, just how I am.”
You tried to move his arms around but you couldn’t, his fingers were still tightly woven with yours. You just laughed and fell back into him, cuddling up again. “I had a friend's mom who was an actual masseuse, so…” you shrugged, “I actually know what I’m doing because she’d give me massages and walk me through her process.”
“You just want to take my shirt off, don’t you?” Bucky taunted.
“I want to make sure you’re not uncomfortable the entire time we hang out and for the rest of the week,” you giggled before snuggling into his arm again and watching the show that had come on randomly.
It took three days before Bucky came back for that massage.
You were hanging out again like normal and he was still trying to relieve the ache in his lower back. It was becoming sad to see him so uncomfortable so you kept reminding him of your excellent massage skills. After what you counted as his third groan of pain you just looked at him and soon enough he was asking you to turn around so he could take his shirt off and lie down.
Choosing your angle to stand with your back to him was a science, you wanted to make sure you had the mirror to look at but you also didn’t want to make it obvious. Part of you hated yourself for wanting to catch and peek at his body but it was infamous now, you just had to look.
And my god was it worth it.
It wasn't an obnoxious amount of muscle that made it seem like the strength drained from his brain and into his arms. The sleeper build comment was right, you had no idea. His chest made you feel comfortable and protected, the kind of chest you’d want to fall into when the subway starts up too quick and you’re not holding onto anything. His arms were, and you already knew this, amazing at covering so much surface area for hugs. They were secure and trustworthy, you knew that when you hugged him he had you; it also helped to remember when he’d whisper it in your ear.
“Okay,” his voice was muffled by pillows at the top of your bed.
You turned around and were greeted by his back which was also an amazing sight, the kind of body sculptors would use and their go-to subject if no one else was there. “I have some lotion on my hands,” you warned and pressed your palms onto his back and quickly began spreading the lotion around.
Though this wasn’t a proper table and he was resting on one cheek instead of face down you knew this was the best he’d get for a college kid. You started all over and slowly worked your way to focusing on his lower back. When you felt the knot you knew you found it, the thing was massive. The low groan Bucky let out was close to pornographic as you dug into him.
Something about seeing him grip the sheets, making his veins pop out, did something to you. At first you only really saw Bucky as another friend or a good member of the friend group you stumbled your way into. But the more you spent one-on-one the more you realized he was your perfect guy. Any guy can be perfect physically but his personality enhanced your view for him, it made you appreciate his looks even more.
His laugh always brought out the crinkle in his nose and those pretty teeth, the sound of him giggling was music to your ears and also was the perfect accompaniment to his squinted eyes or broad smile. The same with his little fist pumps he does when beating you at a game either around a group of friends of a video game, that stupid celebration he does every time causes him to flex his bicep but that’s secondary to the little circles he makes with his fist.
You kept working away and looking at his rested face once in a while, seeing his eyes closed and the relieved look on his face. There was something so pure about watching the guy your slowly obsession over fall into simple relaxation all because of you, it was a treat.
“How’s that?” you whisper, “Bucky?” trying to make sure your pressure wasn’t too hard for him you wanted to check in, but he had fallen asleep. With the opportunity in front of you, you reached out and placed your bent knuckles along his cheek, feeling the stubble tickle your fingers.
You found him blanket on his bed and covered him up so he wouldn’t get cold with his shirt off, before leaving you placed a kiss on his forehead before heading downstairs for a snack. You also wanted to give him space, let him sleep peacefully.
Steve was down there when you got there, another roommate of his cooking as you found Bucky’s section of snacks to choose from.
“Where’s Bucky?” Steve asked as he looked over his shoulder, not for long due to the football playing on the TV.
“Sleeping upstairs,” you ate the goldfish as you rounded the couch to watch the game.
He seemed taken aback at your casualness, “what did you guys do…?” he slowly looked over, most likely trying to see if your hair was disheveled or anything was blossoming on your neck.
“I gave him a massage,” you shrugged and fell back onto the couch, “his lower back has been killing from his workout a while ago.”
You could see Steve look over his shoulder to see if his roommate was also hearing this, he looked over at you again and squinted. “So- and correct me if I’m wrong here- you gave Bucky a massage and put him to sleep and now you’re down here getting a snack?”
“You would be correct,” you smiled, “would you like to do a once over of my neck for hickies or maybe rummage through the trash for condoms?” you sassed and plopped a few more goldfish in your mouth, “I was helping him.”
That statement made Steve look over his shoulder again. The roommate just shrugged with a smile before heading down to his room in the basement, noodles steaming from the cup. You just looked at Steve as he tried to piece together everything, it was actually funny to see him try to understand.
“Bucky doesn’t accept help from anyone,” Steve turned to face you, “it’s his thing to never want to be in debt with anyone when it comes to favours of any sort.”
“Well,” you just sighed, “I’ve been picking up on that too but I got to him I guess, he let me do something for him.” That was all you could say because you didn’t have a full background of why Bucky didn’t accept help from anyone you just knew he didn’t; the only clues you had were Winnie and her role in this.
“That’s good,” Steve quickly added, “I’m far from saying it’s bad, trust me, it’s just he’s been in a funk for a while when it comes to that stuff, it ebbs and flows.”
“Do you think he’ll ever tell me?” you asked as you watched the game, too embarrassed of the question to look at Steve. It seemed there was this vital piece of information that made Bucky who he was that was dangling right in front of your face, you were falling for him but that thing that made him him was out of reach. When Steve first made the statement he siad that this Winnie girl fucked him up which implied something bad much have happened and that can also mean something isn’t necessarily right. You were never going to fix Bucky but you did want to understand so you could help be a better friend to him and not unconsciously get in the way of his mindset.
Steve nodded, “he’ll definitely tell you,” he looked over and smiled, “I mean, you’re all he ever talks about, this kid is head over heels for you it’s just…some guys have hard times coming to terms with their past, he’ll get there though.”
“I know,” you nodded, “I’ll obviously never force it out but I do want him to be aware I’m here to listen, y’know?”
“He knows,” Steve laughed and stood up, going to the cupboard and grabbing a little snack for himself as well.
You took a deep breath before standing up and heading back upstairs, you were guessing Bucky was still fast asleep. When you opened the door you found him still laying on his bed in the exact same position, only now there was little snores coming from him.
With a pout you crawled back onto the bed and sat next to him, placing your hand on his back and sliding it down to his arm that was bent up so his hands could rest under the pillow. Your thumb gently rubbed his arm for a moment before pulling out your phone and scrolling through it.
The boredom ate away at you, instead of scrolling through your phone you went to his dresser to find some clothes you could change into so you could crawl under his sheets and sleep over. When you pulled open his top drawer you were met with his underwear and socks as well as a box of condoms tucked to the side, you just giggled to yourself at the painfully college male sight in front of you.
Something about wearing his boxers made your face heat up, that was a level of intimacy you wanted to reach with him one day but you didn’t know if it was time. Looking over your shoulder after a particularly loud snore you smiled to yourself and picked up a black pair, as you held it up you remember seeing the waistband sticking out of his jeans while he reached above his head to grab something for someone - you weren’t focused on his actions at the time.
Quickly slipping your pants off and pulling up the boxers you maneuvered to his closet, finding your favourite hoodie he wore very often. This moment of intimacy, moving around Bucky’s room while he wasn’t aware, caused a surge of confidence to shoot through you. Though you had never talked to Bucky about what the relationship between you was, you knew both of you could agree there was no room for girlfriends or boyfriends for either of you, this was the time to build the foundation for something better later. Having this idea of only being the girl in his room you took off your bralette and tucked it back in his top drawer, across from the condoms.
You didn’t choose this bra specifically but you were wearing a slightly lacey bralette, it was far from lingerie but the lace added something to it. Making sure you put it where it wouldn’t be obvious but also not hiding it, you grew giddy at the image of Bucky finding it.
Before getting in his bed you tugged and tugged the sheets under his body before managing to get the covers fully out from under him. You scooted in and pulled the sheets up to cover both of you, it seemed he really needed the sleep because nothing was waking him up, not even the little hug you gave him before turning off the lights and falling asleep beside him.
********
You were sitting in class aimlessly scrolling through your phone during your five minute break in your lesson, your art history professor was one of the best teachers you've ever had. She was funny but also well informed, she also had a big heart and didn’t need a eulogy as a form of proof if someone asked for an extension due to a funeral service that day.
Bucky: What the hell is in my dresser?
Without knowing the tone or context your heart dropped. You read the text with Bucky’s voice as if he was screaming at you, a hint of embarrassment in his tone. It was in your head, you didn’t know if it was a flirty tone either.
You: Just my bra, when I stayed over a couple of nights ago I changed into your clothes and just absentmindedly put my bra in your top drawer. I probably was just going through the motions and thought I was at my place.
Bucky: Can I pick you up from class, when does your lecture end?
Something about him completely disregarding your explanation - lie or not - gave you the worst feeling in the world. Ice poured down your back as you watched your prof make her way back up to the little stage she teaches on, you couldn’t keep the conversation going and just needed to deal with it later.
You: sure, it ends in an hour.
Bucky: I’ll be there.
Part of you didn’t want to leave when your lecture was over, you stayed in the hallway for a moment and thought of every single end of the world situation that could happen in the car. Bucky didn’t seem like a guy who hit women but your anxiety didn’t let you leave out that thought. He also didn’t seem like the guy who’d reveal he’d been dating another girl the entire time but who knows, he could be in a three year long relationship as you stood there.
With all these terrible situations playing out in your head you decided to face it head on, you’d walk in there and wouldn’t let him talk; just saying your apologies with your eyes closed before he could get a word out.
You walked down the steps and to the right to find Bucky’s car parked in front, coming up in the blindspot. You took a moment to take a deep breath, opening the door and sitting down as quickly as possible.
“Do you-”
“Bucky,” you put your hand out but kept your eyes casted down, “I am so unbelievably sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I don’t know if you already have a girlfriend and she found it and it caused a rift in your relationship, or if you like to sleep with other girls and one of them found the bra and got jealous so you lost your credit. I don’t know what made you angry but please, I am so sorry for what I did, I wasn’t thinking and I just put it in there and I-...” you just held your mouth open as you looked at the center console, you had run out of things to say. “Um,” you slowly looked up to see him frozen in shock, mouth still slightly open from when he began to say something, “sorry, you were about to say something?”
Bucky had to physically rattle his head to get out of the shock he was in, “do you want to get some coffee?”
Your eyes flicked up and it was your turn to stay frozen, “what?”
Bucky pulled his brows together, “I was making a joke about the bra thing,” he seemed concerned at your extremely anxious state, “I don’t care what you leave at my place, I really don’t,” normally someone would laugh in awkward situations but Bucky didn’t, it felt like it made everything worse. “Do you want coffee?”
“What is going on?” you couldn’t believe the situation you had put yourself in, nothing was making sense.
“Don’t get all mad at me,” now it was time for him to scoff, “you’re the one that thought I was sleeping with multiple women while I’m actively pursuing you, you idiot.”
“Don’t call me an idiot,” you huffed and faced the front of the car, crossing your arms after putting on your seatbelt.
Bucky laughed as he reached over and turned your face so you’d look at him, “that’s what you took from that statement?” He giggled, “babe, I just said I was pursuing you, does that just fly over your head?”
“Wait, what?” you grew more interested, “you want to date me?”
Bucky nodded, “have I not made it obvious?” You just shrugged and began to feel small, curling yourself further into the seat of his car, “I would like to take you out and I would like to continue to collect little pieces of you at my place while doing the same to yours, does that make sense?”
“Then what were those condoms for?”
“The same reason our house keeps tampons in our main bathroom,” Bucky put the car in drive and began working towards to coffee shop, “if you ever need a tampon you go and grab one, if Steve ever needs a condom and he’s out of stock in his room he comes to me,” Bucky looked at you at the stop light.
“Oh,” was all you could say.
“But let me get a few things straight,” Bucky placed his hand on your thigh, “I’m not sleeping with other girls, I do not have a secret girlfriend, I am not mad you left your bra in my dresser and I tried to make the text seem flirty, and finally,” he went at the green, “I really like you and I would like you to be my girl whenever we get there.”
“Okay,” you whispered, “I’d like that too.”
“Then it’s settled,” it was a short drive to the cafe, “let’s celebrate over coffee, shall we?”
You looked down at his hand on your thigh, “yeah, we shall.”
********
Your body felt like it was floating, your legs tingled and it was hard to catch your breath. As you laid on your back with your hands on your bare stomach Bucky worked his way back up from between your legs while leaving kisses on your hip bones as well as your stomach when you lifted your hands.
“How was that?” Bucky asked breathlessly, licking his lips before kissing you.
You kept your answer waiting, probably because he knew it already, kissing him slowly as he wanted. He was fully in control right now, setting the pace and tone of this entire afternoon. When he pulled away for a moment you complimented him like always, your hands reached up to his shoulders and tried to push him to lay on his back but he stayed strong.
“Flip over,” you whispered and ran your hands down his chiseled stomach, working your way up to his shoulders as your fingernails raked up his back.
“I’m all good,” he shrugged.
“But you’re painfully hard,” you tried again to get him to move but he just fell beside you on his stomach, not allowing you to touch him where he was in fact, extremely hard. “Come on, you always do this.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he smiled and pulled you down with him.
“I just want to do something nice for you, you never let me do anything for you or give you any favours,” in your head it seemed like a normal observation, it was true that Bucky didn’t let anyone do anything for him while he actively tried to help everyone in anyway he knew how.
That seemingly struck a nerve, “alright then,” he sighed and got up from the bed, heading into the bathroom as he left you naked and alone on his bed, the most lonesome feelings in the world.
“Where are you going?” you sat up, grabbing your shirt from the edge of the bed.
“Going to go jerk off in the shower,” he said as he closed the door.
“You can’t be serious,” you quickly stood and made your way to the bathroom that was connected to his room. You opened the door to see him already adjusting the tap before starting the shower. “Bucky, it’s the truth, it’s who you are but it’s the truth and as your girlfriend I want you to feel good, I want to give you pleasure like you do to me.”
You reached forward and placed your hands on his back, slowly working your way to his shoulders so you could turn him around. There looked like shame had overtaken him as he stood before you, though he was larger in size he shrunk himself down to look small. His mouth opened and closed a couple of times, he didn’t know what to say.
“If I can’t give you head then can I come in the shower and wash your hair?” you didn’t even put on the shirt you grabbed, it was dropped to the floor. “Come on, honey, it’ll feel so good.”
Bucky only nodded before stepping into the hot shower with you. You made sure he got most of the stream on him, you stayed in front and made sure his hair was soaked before getting any product. You could see his tenseness at first but the moment your hands made contact with his scalp his eyes rolled back, his shoulders relaxed. In that moment it occurred to you that you had actually never seen his relaxed state before.
“Doesn’t this feel good?” you whispered, making sure you used your nails to really cleanse his scalp. “Doesn’t letting yourself relax and breathe feel so good, Buck?”
“Yeah,” it came out quiet and broken.
Your eyes were focused on his hair the entire time, making sure you lathered up and took your time. You needed to savor this moment for both you and Bucky, you wanted him to be relaxed for a s long as possible as well as taking advantage of doing him a favour; never knowing when your next opportunity would come up.
Gently tapped his forehead, you got him to lean back. The water immediately took off the top layer of suds but you needed to rub out the deeper layers as well. Your fingers scrubbed until the trail of water rolling down his body was pure water and had no shampoo in it.
“I’m going to- oh, my gosh Bucky,” you reached out and saw his red eyes, “when did you start crying?”
“I can’t remember,” he whispered and tilted his head down, the water pushed his hair to cover his eyes.
You pushed his hair back and pulled him out a step further so the water hit his back, your thumbs quickly wiped away a mixture of water and tears off of his face. He couldn’t stop crying as you tried your best to keep his face clear, “honey, what’s wrong?”
“I-” he choked on his own words, “I’ve never let my guard down this much,” he admitted before breaking off into harder sobs, you swooped in and pulled him tightly against your chest.
“I know it’s a new feeling,” you whispered, “but I want you to be able to do this all the time, let your guard down around me,” it was a shot in the dark by saying this but you did it anyways, “I promise I won’t hurt you, I’ll never take advantage of your guard down, love.”
It must have struck something because his knees buckled, his hands gripped tighter as he desperately kept you close to him. You didn’t know if you were making him feel better or worse but the act of letting go was needed for him, you kept holding him until there was nothing left to cry.
When he pulled away he stayed close, close enough that you kissed him under the gentle rain of the shower and played with his hair at the base of his scalp. His hands stayed on your back and held you close to him, making sure you were always touching him in some way. You tried to get a good read on him but he kept his head low and gently ran his hands up and down your sides, just feeling you.
“You’re very safe,” you whispered.
Bucky looked up at you for a moment before keeping his eyes down for a while, his brows pulled together and it seemed like he was trying to say something but didn’t know how. Both of you were open and vulnerable, naked in the hot shower. Tears threatened to spill over at the picture of Bucky crying in front of you.
“It was my mom,” Bucky whispered, “the one who broke me-”
“You’re not broken,” you quickly corrected, cupping his face and stroking his cheek with your thumb, “don’t say that.”
Bucky just shrugged, “I’m the oldest, I have four sisters younger than me - all different dads.” Bucky took a deep breath and pulled you closer, “my mom…Winnie was an interesting woman who never wanted to be pregnant but somehow always ended up pregnant anyways, it also didn’t help none of the guys wanted to stick around.”
You wrapped your arms around his neck, giving him the easy opportunity to hug you if he needed to. Nodding along, you encouraged him to keep going.
“When my mom realized I could do the dirty work she would take advantage of that. I basically raised my sisters and somehow she managed to worm into my head,” he let out an angry laugh, “she’d say she loved me if I did things for her and I was a bad boy if I couldn’t or wouldn’t help her, she would say I didn’t love her if I didn’t change my sister’s diapers or bathe them while she sat on the couch.”
“Bucky,” you were the one to instigate the hug, “that’s awful.”
“And I’m aware of how I act now, all I’ve ever known is helping other people to make sure they love me,” he laughed again, “and it sounds stupid but I can never break out of the cycle, I always think I’m doing a good job or not being overbearing but then I start to second guess myself, you know?” he pulled away and looked at you, you quickly nodded. “I start to think about what people are saying behind my back and so I keep doing what I’m doing to stay on the safe side, I know it’s fucking annoying but I can’t help it.”
“It’s not annoying, baby” you leaned past him and turned off the water as it grew cold, “and if you’ll let me I can help with that, I don’t want to fix you or change you, I just want you to be comfortable in this relationship and not think I’m secretly mad at you because you didn’t get me a glass of water.”
Bucky nodded, stepped out of the shower with you and grabbed two towels. The conversation had naturally ended, Bucky didn’t have anything else to say. It was hard not to think he was overthinking again, the idea that you were causing him to stress out stressed you out. You were being truthful when you said you wanted him to be relaxed in this relationship, the last thing you wanted was underlying tension.
Back in bed Bucky rolled over and cuddled into your breasts, holding you closely as you watched his head rise with your breath. You had no idea if he was asleep or not, you knew he wouldn’t mind either way if you played with his hair.
“Thank you,” was all he whispered before falling asleep.
********
You all sat around the couch to watch another big game. Though you had no idea what was going on you were just as into it as Steve. Half time had just started and you all took a collective breath, the two college teams were close.
“Want another beer?” you asked as you stood up, looking at Bucky who was sitting on the couch. Steve and Nat had already filled up, you wanted another cooler and Bucky was almost done.
“Yeah,” he quickly downed his final sip of beer before handing the bottle off to you.
There was this anticipation in the room, you smiled and took the bottle and walked past Steve who was already looking at Bucky. The room seemed still when Bucky didn’t move, just pulling out his phone to look at something while the commercials played. Before making it into the kitchen you looked over your shoulder and saw the back of Bucky’s head, you bit your lip to suppress the smile that was growing.
The moment you got back and sat next to him Bucky took your hand and pulled it into his lap. He fidgeted with your finger before looking over at you, “how’d I do?” he whispered.
You laughed and leaned into his side, “how much did that make your cringe?”
“I was in pain for a moment,” he answered as fast as possible before giggling with you as you clink your glasses together and take a long swing. With a deep breath he looked back at the game and kept your hand in his. Bucky must have not been paying attention but his phone buzzed, illuminating and accidentally showing his lockscreen.
It changed from the photo of the two of you to a black background with white writing on it:
Trust me, she’s not mad at you.
********
Thanks for reading, feel free to reblog and tell me what you think!
Taglist: @jackiehollanderr @tylard-blog1 @readingbooksanddrinkingtea-blog @linzc-reader @hotleaf-juice @honeybunchesofbucky @seybox @yaszx @happyt0exist @striving4averagegirl @searchf0rtheskyline @aya-fay @wbyss @luvrsbian @albertdabuttler
#Bucky Barnes#bucky#bucky barnes slow burn#bucky slow burn#bucky barnes fluff#bucky fluff#bucky barnes angst#bucky angst#bucky oneshot#bucky barnes oneshot#college!bucky x reader#college!bucky banres#bucky x reader#bucky x female reader#bucky barnes x female reader#college!bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x yn#bucky barnes x yn#bucky x female yn#bucky barnes x female yn#sebastian stan character
4K notes
·
View notes
Note
OK so like, there this challenge, it like the kid tells their mom to shut up, and see what the dad does
And I was wondering if you could do
Toji, Gojo, Geto, Choso, Sukuna, and Nanami
Hopefully it's a good idea thank you!
“MOM SHUT UP!”
— gojo, nanami, sukuna, and geto react to your kid telling you to shut up
a/n: oop, i didn’t notice the challenge part; also, I didn’t write one for toji or choso sorry 🥲
GOJO SATORU:
your 7 year old son —unfortunately or fortunately, you have yet to decide— has inherited a lot of his dad’s traits, including his unbelievably loud mouth that has no filter.
so today, the little fucker, who you’ve carried in your womb for 9 months and have to endure his antics now, told you to shut up when you told him to stop playing and go to sleep.
just as you were about to throw your slipper at his head, your husband takes a hold of your hand. he smiles, “let me take care of this.”
you reluctantly put down your weapon and watch your husband approach your son.
“hey champ,” satoru says and his son glares up at him. satoru’s smile tightens as he thinks of throwing his son out of the window right then and there.
is this how you feel dealing with both of them?
“I heard that you told your mom to shut up; is that true?” satoru asks and somehow his son is finally realizing what he did as his eyes are drowned in guilt.
satoru hears a ‘game over!’ come from his son’s pc and his son frowns, “dad! I lost because of you!”
“maybe if you were nice to your mom then I wouldn’t have to be here, would I?”
“also,” he says, leaning on the chair to see his son’s score, “it looks more like a skill issue on your part.”
the kid is offended as he fills his fist with cursed energy and satoru is just as ready to fight with his son.
soon, they each get a slipper thrown at their heads. satoru falls to the ground whining about how he was only trying to help, but your son looks at you, rubbing his head.
you don’t speak and merely look at him. he gets off his chair and walks to you.
“sorry, mom,” he whispers.
your son, further saddened by your lack of response, hugs you and apologizes again. you feel his tears stain your pants and you sigh as your fingers card through your son’s messy hair.
“just don’t do it again.”
he nods and a small smile takes over your face.
“I still think it’s a skill issue,” your husband says before being taken out by another slipper.
NANAMI KENTO:
“mom just shut up!” your 6 year old daughter says as she hears you ramble over the phone while she was drawing.
your eyes widen and you hang up on your friend before getting up to spank your audacious daughter, “oh I know you ain’t taking to me—“
your husband says your daughter’s name disapprovingly making you stop in your track and her to look up at him with surprise and sadness.
“that’s not something you say to your mother,” he starts off and shakes his head, his disappointment basically radiating at this point, “you have to be respectful to her and appreciate her.”
your daughter looks at the ground as tears swell up in her eyes.
kento continues, “and if you were bothered by the noise,” he places his hand on her head and his voice softens, “then you should’ve asked politely if your mom can talk in a lower voice or you could’ve moved rooms, right?”
she nods, trembling and crying silently.
she looks at you, before running to you and jumping into your arms and apologizing repeatedly for what she did and that she would be a good girl from now on.
you cradle her in your embrace and pat her back to calm her down.
your husband approaches you both and presses a kiss on your forehead and hers. kento whispers in your ear as he looks at his daughter, “she dodged a bullet, huh love?”
you roll your eyes and shove him lightly and he merely presses a kiss to your shoulder with a smile.
for some reason, your daughter places her hand on his face and gently pushes him away.
“mommy is mine,” she softly says and hopes her father is not bothered by her claim.
he merely furrows his eyebrows, “but she is my wife.”
his daughter smiles mischievously and shrugs and nanami realizes just how much a of a devil his sweet daughter can be.
RYOMEN SUKUNA:
being the son of ryomen sukuna, your son has been raised to be befitting of the title of a king and that includes his speech mannerism that he picked from his dad.
somehow, that further irritates you as your son says, “silence, mother!”
it reminds you of a certain king of curses who says, “silence, woman.”
however, the king of curses does not escape your wrath when he says those words and neither will your son.
“oho? is ‘silence’ something you say to your mother, s/n?” you inquire and your son narrows his eyes in an attempt to intimidate you, but it only causes your cursed energy to increase which makes the boy gulp slightly.
your husband enters the room and is confused by the display: your son looking at you scared and you looking close to smacking the hell out of the kid, “what’s the matter?”
you look at sukuna, “oh I don’t know; why don’t you tell him s/n?”
your son looks at you then at his dad. “…I told mother to be silent,” he says shamefully.
your husband barks out a laugh but is quickly punched in the stomach by you. he falls to the ground and glares at you, “why you!” he grumbles.
“sukuna-sama, is telling your mother to be silent a good thing?” you emphasize the honorific and your husband stands up and shakes his head.
“no,” he grumbles and you nod, looking at your son.
your son frowns and walks to you then bows slightly, “apologies mother, it’s my mistake.”
you sigh and gently flick his forehead, “I am your mother; don’t bow to me silly.”
your son looks up to you, surprised and smiles, nodding before hugging you.
meanwhile, sukuna is there, complaining about how you dared to punch the king of curses.
GETO SUGURU:
your 5 year old daughter had told you to shut up while she was watching her favorite show and you have started ignoring her ever since.
whenever she would try to talk to you, you would turn away from her and walk away. she didn’t know or rather realize what she did wrong so she went to her daddy to ask for help.
“daddy, I don’t know why mommy is ignoring me!” she tells him seriously and he looks at her nodding while munching on his cereal.
“did you do anything wrong that made mommy mad?” he asks and smiles at how she scratches her head as she thinks. after a while, she shakes her head clueless.
he hums before looking at her, “well, a little birdie told me that you told her to shut up; is that true?”
she tilts her head, “how did the birdie know?”
“I will tell you later, but what’s important now: is it a good thing to tell mommy to shut up?” he inquires, raising and eyebrow at his daughter who plays with the hem of her shirt as she mumbles a small ‘no…’
“there you go, now you know why mommy won’t talk to you,” he winks, “now go apologize; good people apologize when they do something wrong, right?”
she nods with a small smile and he ruffles her hair, “good girl.”
later on, after everything is resolved, she is nestled in your lap and suguru is beside you with his arm around you as she asks, “daddy, how did the little birdie know?”
he smiles and he doesn’t tell her that his cute wife, you, was huffing about how rude her daughter can be and how he had to hug her and pepper her with kisses to calm her down.
taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss @pompompurin1028 @scul-pted @dazaisdeathwish @requiem626k @nameless-shrimp @shinys-bsd-world-1 @sonder-paradise @ravenina14 @jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @starlostlaiba @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @luciferspen @aeanya @sweetcloudsimp @moon-catto @the-midnightskies @fiona782 @ginneko @kisakitwister @imjustasimpxd @psychopotatomeme @dreamcastgirl99 @watyousayin @doobiebochana
copyright © tender-rosiey
do not copy or plagiarize or i will suplex you
#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#jjk x reader#gojo imagine#gojou satoru x reader#jjk imagines#gojo satoru#nanami headcanons#nanami x reader#nanami x y/n#nanami kento#nanami x you#jujutsu geto#geto suguru#geto x y/n#geto x reader#jjk geto#geto x you#sukuna x reader#sukuna x y/n#sukuna x you#ryomen sukuna#jjk nanami#jjk#jjk x you#jjk oneshot
6K notes
·
View notes
Text
(1) running into you ✩‧₊˚ competing series
hockey coach!wanda x fem!ex figure skater reader
tw: creepy man hits on r, flirting (r and w), mentions to past injury (r), some mommy issues mentioned whoops, the nephew’s name is Tyler (💀)
a/n: not proofread oopsies. DON’T steal/repost my works. anyways enjoy this piece of shit. I’ll come back and edit this later.
prev chap ✩ ══╡˚m.list˚╞══ ✩ next chap
It’s a transition going from spending every minute in the rink to living vicariously through your nephew’s newfound interest in the ice. You’ve been taking him to lessons since his parents, your brother, has had to work every minute to make a decent living.
Seeing an ice rink after two years was strangely nostalgic. Spending every waking hour here until you’d gone and screwed your leg during practice.
You would’ve been better off without your coach at the time, your mom, yelling in your ear to get up. It’s in the past and you’re hoping it stays there.
Your nephew was about young teen, unfortunately a stereotypical teen boy who played sports. He was a good kid, but too confident for his own good and feeling the need to size up other players.
The coach of the team had been running them through drills. They were mainly on how to skate and learning specific techniques for hockey such as stopping quickly. He was picking it up quick, again too confident in his efforts but it did get him somewhere.
“Who’s yours?”
You faced the man beside you, “I’m sorry?”
He pointed, waving his finger around and it clicked for you. You waved him off, saying you were here for your nephew.
“Is he your sister’s? Your brother’s?”
“My brother’s. He’s thirteen.”
“And picking it up now? That’s a bit late.”
You laugh, “what?”
The man shrugs and leans back, “he may not be able to make varsity. I mean look.”
The frustration burned through you, feeling annoyed at his audacity. You begin to grab your stuff and move down the bleachers.
“These are kids, and they can do it as a social pastime. I did figure skating and I made it into the region competitions. I was thirteen.”
The man scoffs, “I’m talking about the young boy here and an actual sport, not twirling on the ice. I mean you didn’t go far if you’re here on a Monday night.”
With a shake of your head, you leave and officially move away to the other set of bleachers, closer to where the players got off the ice. It was surprising how aggressive some parents were with their kids doing a sport. It concerned you how concerned they were with their kid succeeding in a sport they once did.
You had sat near the railing towards the bottom, resting your head on it. There was an attempt made to forget your coursing adrenaline, watching your nephew work on sliding across the ice.
It was futile, especially with the way the man was holding his stare in your direction. Whatever his problem was, you wanted nothing to do with it. Men were weird, especially when they’re under some sort of influence.
The group huddled together in the rink, the words being spoken echoed throughout the room. The only word you understood was when they announced their team chant.
You waved back at your nephew when he skated by the window, mouthing something about, “watching him.” It was practice time, where they’re given ten minutes to skate around and practice what they learned.
He flailed around but he still got up proud, acting as if his stop and falling onto the ground was meant to happen. It was amusing, but entertaining and failed for you to realize the man was walking near you yet again.
“Hey ma’am, sorry for the inconvenience. I just thought you were quite beautiful.”
You cringe, “being mean is your flirting technique?”
“Usually chicks dig it.”
You nod and look back to your nephew but he’s relentless and doesn’t want to take no for an answer, even stepping closer to you.
“You alright here miss?”
A woman in skates appeared near you two. She was adjusting the heavy coat around her shoulders, moving to take it off with the obvious sweat on around her face and neck.
The man speaks for you, “we’re fine.”
She raises her eyebrow and tosses the coat onto the bleachers, eyes slowly looking to you for confirmation. You move away from the man and it was enough confirmation.
“Hey buddy, she’s not interested. There’s plenty of fish in the sea but a woman twenty years younger than you isn’t the move.”
With a patronizing smile and wave he began to yell at his son to leave. You thanked her, moving to do the same when she stopped you.
“Who’re you here for?”
“Tyler, what’re you here for?”
She looks confused for a moment, making a subtle gesture towards the skates on her feet, “I’m the coach.”
You swear you feel your confidence melt into a puddle. How long have you been taking him to practices and you’ve never cared to greet the coach?
“I’m terrible sorry,” you put your hand out to shake hers, “I should have introduced myself when I had begun to take him to practice. It’s nice to meet you.”
She smiles and pushes your hand away, “no need. How’re you feeling though, need someone to walk you to your car?”
“That’s quite alright, I believe I’ll be fine.”
Your nephew exits the rink then, coming to sit near you two and untie his skates. He either didn’t notice you two conversing or he didn’t care, because he had come barreling in. You take his helmet off, reminding him to not forget his bag in the locker room.
“You did a great job today, Tyler, how’re you feeling about your stops now?”
“I’m definitely better. I think I’m better than Micah too, he slides into the walls. Man has no clue on how to slide.”
She hums, “then I’ll see you tomorrow. Night.”
He waved and begins to walk behind the bleachers towards the locker room, and she looks back to you.
“I could stand at the door and make sure you two get to your car? I can see him standing at the tables looking this way. My word, is he drunk or something?”
You look and find him standing outside by himself and accept her assistance. It wasn’t that you necessarily trusted her, but she was more trustworthy than the other.
She grabs her coat and stuff on the seat, ready to go just as Tyler had ran out from the locker rooms. He smelt terrible and for some reason felt the need to stand where his sweat melted onto your skin.
“Maximoff what drills are we doing tomorrow?”
She looks relaxed, her eyes focused on him and tone kind while it feels your nerves are spiking when you see the man in your peripheral vision. He doesn’t seem to pay you any mind anymore, he looked distant while his son finished packing up.
“Okay, I’m heading off. Have a good night you two,” she looks to one more time, and you mouth your thanks. She jerks her car door open, throwing her stuff in and climbing in after.
“I love Maximoff. She’s a great coach, very professional if I could add.”
You shove him into the car, and start driving out of the parking lot. It’s fun to watch someone gain traction in a sport and see how much they enjoy learning the next steps to getting better.
“Are you staying for dinner tonight?”
“I am. Your parents aren’t getting back until later tonight, so I’m staying over tonight. Anything you want to do?”
He doesn’t seem very interested in anything you suggest, wanting to go to bed right after you both have dinner. And it’s understandable.
He had gone to bed four hours before his parents had finally begun to come home, your brother being the first home. He found you on the couch, “hey, how’re you?”
“It’s swell. I got hit on at the rink, but other than that it’s fine. Tyler’s asleep now.”
“You got hit on at the rink?”
“Opened with insults and everything.”
He empties his water bottle, his voice slightly muffled from where he was in the house, “are you okay with continuing to bring him to practice? I feel bad enough as it is. We can’t thank you enough.”
“No it’s fine. It was just sudden. I enjoy being able to see you all often,” you dangle your keys, “I’m going to head back to my apartment, I unfortunately have work tomorrow.”
“Sounds good. I’ll see you tomorrow, get home safe. Maybe tomorrow we can all eat dinner this weekend, we’d like to catch up”
“I’d love to. Sleep well, goodnight,” you wave before shutting the door behind you.
⋆ ˚｡⋆ ✧ ⋆ ˚｡⋆
“Tyler,” you say while finishing tying his skates, “I don’t want you to hang around Josh anymore okay? He’s a terrible influence.“
“But he’s the second best. At least he isn’t sliding into the walls.”
“I mean his personally is shit, just focus on learning the fundamentals and talk with the others.”
“Isn’t that a bad word—”
“Just get on the ice.”
He puts his hands up in offense and stumbles into the rink. You wipe your hands on your pants, “I swear—“
“That you do,” she comes beside you.
She sets her bags down beside you, leaning her shoulder against the wall. Your attention follows her fingers, a part of you hating the way she’s tying her skates. The other part got caught judging from the expression on her face.
“Are you judging how I tie my skates?”
You get slightly flustered, apologizing and fearing you’ve made her uncomfortable but all it does is grow the smile that was already there.
“Should be sorry unless you have a valid reason.”
“I figure skated,” you blurt and she looks amused.
“Do you still skate?”
“Not anymore after an injury my junior year.”
She looks earnest in her apology. In a response to not spiral you laugh it off.
“I bet it’s painful to realize you won’t be able to enjoy your passion again, but you’re here supporting him.”
“It’s not the end of the world, but it’s disappointing,” you laugh, “And of course, Tyler loves hockey. Especially when he has a coach like you.”
She leans to grab her coat, “what’s special about me?”
It’s something you’re still learning. That being how you have a knack for being flirty when you aren’t usually meaning to. In this moment though? You don’t mind.
You smile cruelly, “it’s 2:00.”
She checks her watch for confirmation and dramatically steps back onto the ice with a sigh. You feel your heart race from within your chest at the look she gave you after.
It felt like you were being called out. Her attention was on you before and after each practice. You enjoyed familiarizing yourself with your nephew’s coach (by familiarizing you mean flirting). It would make sense to leave everything where it was, but you didn’t want to.
You learned it was more than a simple surface friendship with your nephew’s coach when she slipped her number into your back pocket. And maybe the details on there that she wanted to take you out that Saturday at 8.
prev chap ✩ ══╡˚m.list˚╞══ ✩ next chap
@xxxtwilightaxelxxx @emiliaisdead
@esposadejoyhuerta @shinysuitcloud
@xxsekhmet @casquinhaa @r0manxff
#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda x reader#wanda maximoff x female reader#wanda x fem!reader#wanda x you#wanda maximoff x you#wanda maximoff x fem!reader#wanda maxmoff x y/n#hockey coach!wanda
597 notes
·
View notes
Text
now lick it — academy ! coriolanus + reader : coriolanus was quick to take a liking to the capitol’s newest it girl, along with her leather prada kitten heels.
tags : 18+!! MDNI virgin ! coryo, sub ! coryo ( yk i had to do it for my sub coryo bbs ), dom ! fem reader, shoe humping, i think coryo likes leather… or heels… not sure, coryo is just a bitchboy in this idk what else to say.. THIS IS NOT A FEET KINK FIC BTW 😭coriolanus is just obsessed w/ rich things and u happen to have designer heels… HEAVYYYYYYYY MOMMY KINK / ISSUES, degradation
a / n : do i know how to write dom ! fem.. no…. did i try… yes……
you’d known coriolanus snow for as long as you could remember, watched his trials and tribulations, watched him continuously come on top albeit being so low. he was poor, hardly had enough money to feed the two others he lived with, always eating those damned lima beans. and you?
you were just perfect! you had everything and anything you could ever want, the most expensive five course meals, designer outfits, shoes made from only the best. those shoes… a sleek black leather with red painted on the bottom of the shoe, sling - back kitten heels.
they were utterly captivating, the effort put into making them, the richness it oozes with every step you take as you strut down the hallways without a single worry in the world, paying no mind to the blonde staring you down.
“he’s so fucking weird,” arachne comments as she walks alongside you, more likely to pay attention to the gazes of those around you.
“who?” you snap your head to her, brows furrowing together ever so slightly, albeit not much.
“that snow kid,” arachne glances back at him, and he’s still staring, as sejanus, his district best friend, yaps his ear off, “coriolanus.”
“is that so?” you can’t help the way you smile, following her gaze back to him, a knowing smile curving your glossed lips as he awkwardly looks away, trying to look like he’s engaging in a conversation with sejanus now, despite the evident nervousness that reeks from him even across the room.
from that day on, you soon began to realize coriolanus snow was not a phoenix rising from the ashes of his potential, but rather a cockroach that you couldn’t wait to squish. he had become insufferably obsessed with you, always asking your opinion on things, offering to do your homework, asking if you’d like to be his partner for projects, complimenting your hair, outfit, makeup— does he ever shut the fuck up?
you never even considered taking up any of his offers, until it all got to be too much, and you decided it would be the only thing to finally quiet him down. you glare at him as he approaches you, “yes?”
“would you like to—..” he pauses, nervously looking around, then shuffling his feet and looking back at you, “to.. be my partner on the project..?”
he’s so shy, a roach caught in the manicured hands of a raven, claws pushing into it’s shell. he’s surprised when your eyes soften at him, “of course.”
˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
so that’s how he’s here now, awkwardly sitting across from you, lashes fluttering at his page. he can feel the sensation of your burning gaze, it never left him from the second you opened your door to him, watching his eyes widen as he admires your house, the way his cheeks flush ever so slightly when you compliment his button up.
it was a hand - me - down, you could tell.
your jaw ticks ever so slightly, pencil tapping against the table, “coriolanus?”
he immediately perks up, as if expecting you to speak, “yes..?”
you smile sweetly at him, “come here.”
come here, he’s immediately flustered, shifting in his seat, “what do you—“
“come here,” your voice is firmer now, making him gulp.
and of course he listens, how could he not? ever so slowly standing up, trying to be slick as he ‘naturally’ drops his hands to cover his bulge, assuming you hadn’t seen it as he takes hesitant steps to you. your eyes glisten up at him, head tilting to the side ever so slightly, “why are you here, coriolanus?”
he inhales sharply, “i don’t know what you’re talking about..”
“you do,” you respond quickly, red nails trailing down his arm, all the way to his wrist, and yanking it away from his hardened cock. you immediately scoff at the sight, making him want to curl up in a ball and die right on spot, “did you just want to fuck me, snow?”
“no..— no, no, nonono—“ he immediately pulls all the stops, raising his hands in a universal innocent pose, “i would never—“
“oh really?” your shoe moves to pass along his right ankle, feeling him shiver underneath your touch, “you know.. i would have never assumed a guy like you would be such a desperate little bitch.”
to your surprise, he whimpers. it’s quiet, but loud enough for you to hear, loud enough for you to smile at, watching his cheeks heat up as your shoe trails up his shin. your eyes stay on his face, watching him struggle against his restraint, trying so hard to just not move your shoe to his crotch and hump on it himself.
he needed the expensiveness searing on his skin, to feel the richness stain onto him.
he had to have it, he truly was so, so desperate.
he had thought about this many times, humping against the corner of his desk in his room, imagining it’s the leather of your shoe, the chair you sit on, the desk you tap your nails on, the side of the bed that you sleep on. god, it was so dirty, imagining you sleeping in the bed, so peaceful, as he humps the side of it for dear life, biting on the delicate skin of his hand to mask his whimpers.
his blonde curls fall in his vision as his head tips down to watch your heel as it moves up his thigh, then finally it pushes against his bulge. his knees immediately buckle, hips moving to lower himself against the heel as he tries to hump into it. you hold back your laugh, moving your foot away, “are you a fucking virgin?”
he quickly moves to nod, “yes.. yes— please.. please..”
you scoff at him, “please what?”
“need it— so bad..” he whimpers out, pathetic.
your molars press together, contemplating it for a second before your lips finally part, “take off your pants, and your boxers.”
he swiftly follows your every request, tugging down his slacks and boxers, his huge, hardened cock springing out, tip red like he’s been hard for hours, precum beading off his slit. he was eight inches, at least, girthy as well, but not much compared to the length. how could a man so submissive and pathetic have such a huge cock?
you squint at his approval - seeking gaze, not giving him any of it as you hum, moving your shoe to move against his cock, admiring the way precum smears on the rich leather. he pulls his lips together for a second, “mm—.. mmph— feels so fuckin’ good..”
you were seconds in, and it already seemed like his sanity was shattering, hips worthlessly bucking against your shoe, whimpering at any form of friction. his lashes flutter evidently at the feeling of the money spent on your shoes coating his cock, making him feel rich.
now he’s everything he’s ever wanted to be, a rich man, doused in money, able to spend it on all the riches the world could offer. diamond encrusted watches, pearls extracted from pure oysters, real leather, rich satin, deep maroon. he envisions it all in his mind as he humps against your shoe, whimpering out nonsensical mumbles that you couldn’t even begin to decipher.
“al—always.. wanted to do.. this— ah, ah..—“ he moans out, hand moving to clasp onto the table next to him.
and suddenly, he starts groaning out a name you could never imagine being called.
mommy.
it comes so natural to him in this moment, and it makes heat ignite between your legs. you can’t help but play into it, “mommy, huh? gonna cum for mommy? yeah?”
he desperately nods, gripping the table like it was his lifeline as his hips move faster against your heel, white beading at his stressed knuckles, “mm— mph.. mommy— please.. can i.. can i— can i can i…”
your head tips up to meet his gaze again, “can you what?”
“cum..—“ his nails dig into the expensive wood, garnished with a sleek gloss, tears nearly welling in his eyes from desperation, “..need to.. so s-so bad— please, mommy.. ‘ll be good— p-promise..”
“you won’t tell anyone about this?”
he shakes his head rapidly.
“you will leave me alone?”
“mm—..” his tip catches on to the leather of your shoe again, making his nose scrunch up, “mhmhmhm—“
“gonna be my good boy?”
his lips fall apart, desperately trying to hold back his rushing orgasm for as long as you’re putting it off for but god— when you’re calling him good boy, he just can’t. his eyes meet yours, pupils completely blown out, “y-yes.. mommy.. pleaseplease—“
he just wanted your approval, just wanted you to appreciate the effort he is putting into you, for you to smile at him and say he did a good job.
you put it off for another few seconds of silence, before finally tipping your chin to watch his dick slide against your shoe, “you can cum.”
and good lord, he does. thick white spurts of cum drip onto the expensive leather of your shoe, his legs trembling from the awaited release, lips moving around incoherent words. he starts mumbling out thank you’s and you can’t help but chuckle at him, did he think it was over?
you put on a faux pout, “you ruined my shoes.. can you clean them for me, coryo?”
coriolanus, albeit his pathetic showcase seconds later, would never, ever get on his knees to lick anyone's shoe. it was humiliating, disturbing, concerning, even— wait. he’s on his knees. his tender skin pushes against the hardened floor as you lower the shoe to align with his mouth, and much to his own surprise, his lips part, tongue snaking out to provide kitten licks onto the shoe.
his own cum is salty against his tongue, slimy and disgusting, but it also tastes like.. money. it tastes like your approval, like your love. his tongue starts to lap it up now like it was his last meal, fingers gripping the heal of your shoe to have a sturdier hold on cleaning it up.
“good boy,” you eventually mumble out to him, watching his tongue slip under the underside of your shoe to really clean it up. god, didn’t he know you were walking in these all day? what a disgusting, freakish animal.
well.. you did clean them after school, intending for them to be to this use.
but he didn’t have to know that, now did he?
he still licked it, even without knowing, and that is the best part.
he immediately nods, licking his lips to make sure he didn’t miss any other cum. his eyes move up to meet yours again, “thank you..”
“who?”
“mommy.”
that’s right.
coriolanus snow was completely and utterly your bitch now.
#coriolanus snow#tbosas#coriolanus fanfiction#coriolanus x reader#coriolanus x y/n#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#coriolanus x you#coriolanus smut#coriolanus imagine#coriolanus drabble#tom blyth smut#billy the kid smut#billy the kid x you#billy the kid x reader#billy the kid fanfiction#billy the kid#tom blyth#president snow#coryo snow#ballad of songbirds and snakes#tomblythedit
623 notes
·
View notes
Text
heavens kiss.
lucifer morningstar x female reader
---------------------------------------------------
fic summary: your husband simply cannot keep his hands off of you, so you give him the punishment he deserves.
warnings: smut, pegging, dirty talk, sub!lucifer, praise kink, oral?(w/ strap on) mommy kink.
word count: 1735 // short
---------------------------------------------------
Lucifer had always been pretty handsy - it was simply how he was.
You could be sat in bed, and he'd been resting on your chest, running his finger tips ever so slightly across your collarbones as he listened to you rant. You could be cooking dinner and he'd wrap his arms around your waist, laying his head against your back. You could be reading and he'd be playing with the strings of your pants with his head in your lap.
He loved touching you, a lot.
You were like a drug in his eyes. Once he'd gotten a taste - a touch - he'd became addicted. He loved the way you smelt, the way you felt, the way you tasted. He was head over heels for you. Completely whipped.
Today was one of those days. He'd been clinging onto you for hours as you watched television in your shared bedroom whilst you ran your fingers through his hair, enjoying the way he hummed in delight at the feeling.
"Mm.. Love?" Lucifer lifted his head from your chest, chin resting on the curves of your breast.
"Yes?" Looking down from the television, your gaze met his and your fingers paused which caused him to whine ever so slightly. Lucifer muttered something underneath his breath, dropping his head back down - almost like an embarrassed puppy.
You couldn't help but chuckle and cup his cheeks in order to lift his head. "Couldn't hear you baby, speak up for me?"
Your partner let out a small groan, and motioned down to where your legs intertwines with each other on the bed. It took you a moment to realise, but once you did there was no fighting back your grin.
His hips bucked forwards ever so slightly into the mattress, making the bulge in his pyjama pants more obvious. Lucifer whined, cheeks flushing in embarrassment at the situation. He tried to hide his face in your chest again but the grip you had on his cheeks prevented that from happening.
"Luci.. You all hard for me?" You teased, lowering your hand ever so slightly to mess around with the waist band of his pants which only worsened his current state.
"Mm.. Yeah- Soso hard love." Lucifer leaned forwards to capture you lips into his. You had no issue with this, simply dropping your hand down onto his waist to assist him in moving from laying on top of you to straddling your hips. Your hands felt ever so warm as they snaked up his shirt, nails digging into his skin.
Lucifer hummed against your lips, his own fingers running through your hair as his other gently cupped one of your breasts. This caused you to pull away.
"Did I say you could do that, baby?" Lucifer whimpered, shaking his head in response. "No, I didn't."
You flipped him so that he was laying underneath you, pinning him down onto the bed by his wrists.
He yelped as all of this happened, tears forming in the corners of his eyes as he knew what was coming next. You chuckled, now resting above his thighs as you gripped his chin between your fingers. "Stay."
Lucifer nodded, sniffling as you got up from the bed. He knew what was happening as you walked over towards that drawer. He knew what was happening when you pulled out his favourite strap on. Pink and around 8 inches long - he wouldn't deny that the thought of being pegged by you caused his cock to twitch.
"Someone looks eager." You say, cupping the bulge in his pants as you return to the bed, strap on now attached to your waist. The action causes him to moan, arching his back off of the bed to rub himself against your hand even more. "Such a desperate boy."
"Mm-mgm, so desperate for you." Lucifer responds, voice quiet as he's full of embarrassment.
"God look at you, such a little slut for me. My good fuckin' slut." He nods at your words, bucking his hips forwards again.
"YesYesYes, y-your slut, only yours." His stuttering causes you to chuckle. He looks so angelic underneath you like this, red, sweating and the way his eyebrows soften every time you brush your palm against his bulge.. it was beautiful.
"C'mere, be a good boy for me." You motion for him to sit up, and he does. "Atta boy." He smiles, following your hands as you hold the strap up towards his face. "Got no lube baby, you gotta fix that."
The request clicks in his mind almost instantly and he nods eagerly, leaning forwards to swirl his tongue all around the head of the strap before taking it into his mouth.
After a few moments, you take the strap out of his mouth and tap the tip against his puffy lips. "Fuck, your so pretty Luci." You lean your head back. "Looking up at me like that."
He smiles up at you, opening his mouth before taking the strap back between his lips as his eyes fluttered shut. He simply sucked at it for a while, rather slowly to avoid choking on it.
This took all of the fun out of it though, you wanted to see him messy, crying and choking on the strap like a whore. So, taking a fistful of his hair you pushed his head down towards your stomach.
Lucifer's eye shoot open, his body tenses up though his hands rest at your thighs. He made no attempts to pull away though, holding himself there as his gags and coughs covered the strap in his spit. When it becomes too much for him though, he taps your inner thigh three times and you pull out of his mouth. Lucifer gasps for breath, nails now digging into your thighs as drool drips down onto the bed.
"Good boy, you okay?" You cup his cheek, using your thumbs to wipe away the tears forming. He nods as he leans into your palm with a smile. "m'perfect."
You nod, and smile. "Think you can take it now baby? Do you need a mome-" Lucifer quickly cuts you off. "I'm ready. Please."
How in Hell could you say no to that face? That little pout just drew you in like a curse. "Okay.. turn around for me." Lucifer turns around, tugging his pyjama pants down to give you access to his hole. The sight alone caused your panties to dampen.
"That's my boy.. I'm gonna put it in now- Okay?" He nodded.
Seconds later, Lucifer feels the burning sensation of the head of the strap on being pushed into his ass. A small wince falls from his lips, eyes closing as you placed your hands on his cheeks, spreading them open to make entering easier. Pushing the head in, he whines. "Just the head so far baby, wanna wait a second?"
He nods, dropping his head down onto the pillows for a moment, enjoying the way you began to massage his lower back - waiting ever so patiently for him to feel a little better about the stinging feeling. He hadn't been pegged in a while, the two of you did it once, about a year ago now. So the feeling still felt a little new to him.
"K-Keep going." He stutters out, earning a nod from you as you begin to push your hips further into him. Pushing down on the curve of his back, Lucifer arches slightly making a few inches of the strap push in with ease. The moan he came out with could've made you cum on the spot.
You chuckle, giving his hips a slight rub. "Such pretty moans, think you can be a little louder for mommy?" The word alone cause him to moan out again, nodding his head.
"yesyesyes." He leans his head back, getting a the view of you grinning down at his begging, shaky form. "P-Put it in, all of it pretty please mommy."
Lucifer is pushed forwards slightly by the sudden thrust of you pushing the entire length of the toy inside of him. He grips at the mattress to prevent himself form falling. Though has no time to react as you begin to move. "You like being full with mommy's cock baby? Like being my good little whore."
He nodded again and again and again - tearing up as he whined with each thrust. Each time the tip of the strap even grazed across that one little spot he stuttered out some kind of thank you.
"thank you for taking care of me."
"thank you for making me feel so good."
"thank you for fucking me like this."
Lucifer was such a sweet boy, a broken mess underneath you as the speed of your hips increased. Deeper, Firmer and faster.
"Fuck! mmgnn.. s-so close!" He throws his head back, yelping a little as you wrap your arm around his chest and tug him up so his back is pressed against your chest.
You press your lips to his shoulder, sucking at the skin. "so good, so good. ah..gng!" His words turn into babbles as the strap reaches depths it hadn't yet. His eyes roll into his head and he throws his head back against you. "cumming, cumming oh my fuck i'm gonn- gnh!"
His hot seed shot across the mattress, staining your red sheets with his cum. Lucifers brows scrunch up in pleasure, gasping when you don't stop thrusting until every drop is finished leaking from the tip of his cock.
Once he's finished, you swipe your finger across his head, collecting the remaining cum before smearing your finger against his mouth. He parts his lips, sucking his own cum up from your finger as you slowly pull the toy our from his ass. He moans around your finger.
"Was a lot for you baby, huh?" You sigh, running your hand through his messy hair. Lucifer can only nod as he pops your finger out from his mouth. "Lay down Luci, we can cuddle till you wanna get up."
"What about all day?" He smiles, watching as you disappear into the bathroom, returning with a few tissues to clean the bed up with. You'd wash the sheets in the morning.
Wrapping an arm around him, you drag him down to lay on top of you again. "All day, all night, for the rest of eternity baby. Just rest."
---------------------------------------------------
i have never written in my life but i felt like it
#lucifer morningstar#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel lucifer#lucifer morningstar x reader#x reader#hazbin hotel x reader#lucifer x reader#hazbin hotel x you#lucifer smut
499 notes
·
View notes
Text
Quite a long night
Alternatively: Enzo’s deal with Mattheo
Enzo and Mattheo x reader
You can read this request as a summary, because I don’t want to reveal anything else.
Warning: not really a threesome, but still you get fucked by both Enzo and Mattheo, fingering, oral m and f receiving, submissive reader I guess, piv, overstimulationand maybe orgasm denial… I’m not good at warnings, but I’m sure you get it: 18+
Minimal plot, sorry. I hope it lives up to the expectations. I might have strayed a bit from the essence of the request. Not exactly a threesome, but the next best thing I guess, because I honestly believe Mattheo would go mental if he had to watch the woman he loves with another man. I’m going to be honest, I’m a softy so despite the jealousy this isn’t crazy rough, I mean this is just how I write but I did my best.
A/N: If you check out my little masterlist thingy, you’ll notice I added a little currently working on etc. This is because of some changes in life, which have me worried about how much time I’ll have to write so this way you can check up on what I’m doing.
Feedback is always welcome. Happy readings!
Tears are welling up but you hold them back as you tell Pansy everything that had happened the night before. Sympathetically she listens to your painned voice, while Lorenzo approaches you with a frown on his face as he listens in. “He just walked out and now we’re done. Can you believe it?” Enzo raises his eyebrows and uncrosses his arms to wrap you in his arms. “Mattheo’s an idiot sometimes. He’ll come around. He always does.” You huff through sobs as you break down in Enzo’s arms. “He needs to realize that I am not someone he can toss away whenever he wants to and then come back when it fits him.” Enzo places a soft kiss on your temple, arms still tightly embracing you. You stay in his arms for a while and Pansy who’s been silently watching the both of you chews her lip. “I’m not one to meddle, but if you really want Mattheo to realize that you won’t wait for him every time he gets confused over his daddy and mommy issues, you can always fake date Enzo. I’m sure Mattheo will learn.” With watery eyes you stare at Pansy, but slowly her idea starts to make a lot of sense. When you turn to look at Enzo with teary eyes he really can’t say no. A hesitant breath leaves his lips as he worries about what he’s getting himself into, before speaking up. “What are best friends for if it isn’t for fake dating.” He jokes and you cuddle up to him.
It only took Mattheo two days to lose his patience. He had endured enough of you two and was done watching you with him. You in Enzo’s lap laughing at his goofy acts. Enzo’s hand slowly moving down and resting on your ass. You wrapped in Enzo’s arms while he places a soft kiss on your forehead. Enzo leaning back in the common room just to wrap his arm around you, gently playing with your hair. Your hand on Enzo’s thigh tenderly moving up as he stares at you with adoring eyes. Mattheo was forced to watch it all.
When you and Lorenzo skipped breakfast and stayed in one morning, Mattheo had had enough. With gritted teeth and dark eyes Mattheo walks the hallways of the castle. Berkshire, you worm, you had no right to spend the night with my girl. We’re not together at the moment, but she’s still my one love and you know that, you little shit. Enzo was out of line. “Berkshire!” Enzo snapped his head around to find a fuming Mattheo approaching him. This was bound to happen, honestly Mattheo had held together for longer than Enzo expected him to. “You break it off with my girl, today!” Mattheo pushes Enzo against a wall, but Enzo bites back pushing Mattheo’s hands off of him. “Why would I do that when she’s so much fun?” Lorenzo’s suggestive teasing makes Mattheo’s heart squeeze tight. You were his girl, he needed you back. Mattheo reaches for his wand as his eyes burn with hate and he closes in on Enzo’s face. “You will step back, because I love her and I will have her back. I’ll kill for that brat, so go find someone else.” Mattheo’s voice is ice cold, but he doesn’t cast a curse. Lorenzo relaxes as he watches Mattheo turn away, but as soon as Enzo lets his guard down Mattheo throws a punch, hitting Enzo’s cheek hard, before calmly walking away.
***
Enzo lets himself fall next to you on the couch with a sigh. You immediately spot the bruise on his cheekbone with horrified eyes and gentle fingers, you brush his face. “It isn’t that bad.” Lorenzo whispers and you feel guilt well up. “This was a horrible idea.” Enzo meets your eyes with a comforting smile. He tugs your hand and you move to sit in his lap, brushing your lips over his. “Did he say something?” His eyes fall to his hand resting on your thigh. It takes a moment before Enzo meets your eyes, but when he does you notice how soft they are. “Matt loves you (y/n) and we both know you belong with him… so I guess it’s time we stop fooling around.” You look down to his hand, his thumb drawing soft circles on your thigh, and chew your lip. “What did he say exactly?” You wonder, does Mattheo really love you, does he really want you back? Lorenzo softly brushes his fingers through your hair, adoring your beauty. “It’s what you wanted right? He wants you back and I’m sure that he’s not gonna let go of you ever again.” You wanted Mattheo back so bad, you belonged with him, you were sure of that, but a part of you was going to miss Enzo. “I’ll miss our time together.” You whisper and meet his eyes. A soft smile tugs on Enzo’s lips. “Wish you could have us both?” You hide your face in the crook of his neck, before softly whispering: “Maybe.”.
***
You and Enzo decided to break things off tomorrow. After today’s classes you would have one last date night, which again ended with you underneath him.
You lay on your bed as his hands moved over your thigh, while he kissed and sucked on your neck, leaving small bruises. Your fingers entangle in his hair as you feel his hand slowly move under your dress and up to your panties. “Please, Enzo.” You moan and he traces kisses from your neck to your lips. “Take off that dress for me first.” You push him off of you and while he removes his shirt he watches you with hungry eyes as you reveal your lingerie to him. Instantly he’s back on top of you, his eyes scanning your body. “So fucking beautiful.” His fingers gently trace your bra, hips and thighs, before focussing on your panties. His hand slips underneath the soft fabric of your panties and a finger slides through your folds. “Wet, but not wet enough.” Lorenzo growls and with those words he enters a finger, sinking deep into you, making you moan. Your parted lips are a silent invitation for him to sneak his tongue in and eagerly explore your mouth. Muffled moans fill the room as his finger plays with your clit, making you arch your back and squirm underneath him. He feels your body tense as your orgasm builds up. “Not so quick, princess.” He pulls out his finger, making you whimper before whining. “Enzo.” You whine. Mattheo was right, you're spoiled rotten.
You watch him through hooded eyelids as he traces kisses over your breasts, while his hand sneaks to your back to unclasp your bra. His tongue eagerly moves over your perked nipples and you tug to his hair, whimpering underneath him as sensations build up. While his mouth plays with your nipples his hands are free to move down your panties a little, only separating his mouth from your boobs to carelessly throw your panties on your bedroom room. Enzo places soft kisses over your tummy, announcing his way down. You can feel your core get needy for him as he works his way down teasingly slow. “I beg you, Enz, please-” A soft cry interrupts your plea as his tongue slips between your folds. His hands grip your thigh forcing your legs open so he can press his face hard against your pussy. Soft desperate moans escape you, but it’s not enough for Enzo and his hands move to your boobs kneading them and fingers harshly playing with your sensitive nipples, while mercilessly devouring your cunt.
You cry out Enzo’s name as you buck your hips searching for that last touch to tip you over the edge. He grabs your ass like a brute angling you right so he can give you what you need, his tongue focused on your clit. Your lips part, but no sound comes out as you climax with Enzo’s mouth still working your pussy, thirsty to taste your juices. He finally moves away to watch you panting underneath him, slowly removing his pants and boxers revealing his large member to you. You squirm as you realize that Enzo was far from done with you, which only makes Lorenzo smirk as he jerks himself before crawling over you. He looked godly, fully naked and hovering over you, lustful for you.
He kisses you intensely and despite your already wobbly legs you bravely reach for his cock. You stroke Enzo’s painfully hard cock and he moans into the kiss, while you guide him to your entrance. “You’re so good for me.” Enzo whimpers as he slowly moves inside you, loving the feeling of your walls around him. Once he’s settled deep inside of you, Enzo grabs your hips and flips you in one swift move so you’re now on top of him. A cry leaves your lips at the sudden movement with his dick deep inside of you. “Move for me.” Enzo whispers as he brushes your hair out of your face. You nod with your mouth slightly agape and do as he asked. With your hands on his shoulders you bounce on his dick. You start slowly, but quickly try to pick up the pace. Enzo pants and moans as his eyes move from your blushed face to your pretty tits moving in front of him to your cunt taking him so fucking well. You drop your head and soft cries escape you as you struggle to take his full size, feeling him stretch you hard and deep.
As Enzo feels his orgasm approach he curses himself for making a deal with Mattheo. Your walls clench so good around him, he wants you to cum and he wants to cum, but instead he stops your hips from moving. “Get on your knees and let your mouth work.” Enzo clenches his jaw as you look at him with confused and pleading eyes. Was he punishing you for some reason allowing you to feel him inside of you to then take that away from you with any release. “Enzo, please.” You whine cupping his face and doing your best to move on his dick despite Enzo’s strong grip on your hips. “Do as I say sweetheart.” Reluctant you move up, leaving your pussy clenching around nothing as you still so desperately want to cum. With innocent eyes you watch Enzo as you move to sit between Enzo’s legs. His hand makes its way to your hair, caressing your scalp as you open your mouth to taste his cock covered in both your juices. Your legs are pressed tightly closed as you feel your clit throbbing in need of touch, but you ignore your own desire and focus on pushing Enzo’s hard member deep down your throat. Enzo moves your head just a little more, making you gag a little before allowing you to move up and down. You pause a moment to lick and suck his tip before working his dick deep again. When feels himself get close Enzo firmly grips your hair and thrusts upwards into your mouth, fucking your mouth and spilling deep inside of you. Your eyes get watery as you take his load. Surprised by his own harshness he pulls your flustered face towards his. Brushing a tear away with his thumb. “You’re so pretty. So sweet.”
Enzo pulls you close and wraps his arms around you, while kissing you passionately, before pulling away and leaving you alone and naked on your bed. You watch him confused, desperate and vulnerable. With one word from Enzo the key from the door clicks, unlocking it and it only takes a second for the door to open. Flustered and with still teary eyes you watch Mattheo walk in and instantly your lips part as a soft sound leaves your lips. Mattheo feels himself get hard the second he sees your naked body, glinstering cunt and flushed face, exactly how he wanted you. Feeling vulnerable under Mattheo’s piercing gaze you close your legs and look away in shame. Enzo places a soft hand on your thigh, squeezing gently, while his lips move close to your ear. “You said you wished you could have us both.” Your eyes move from Enzo to Mattheo who slowly removes his tie with his eyes still focussed on you. “So I managed to make a little deal with the devil.” Enzo pulls away from you and licks his lips.
“Can I watch?” Lorenzo asks with a playful smile, but Mattheo doesn’t look at him as he steps closer to your naked sheepish figure. “Get lost Berkshire, I’m the boyfriend, you’re the toy.” Your mouth drops as Enzo just grins at you, pulling up his pants and grabbing his shirt, before leaving. With confused eyes you stare at the door through which Enzo just left. You sit still on the bed, unmoved as Mattheo sits down next to you on the bed, watching you carefully while you avoid his gaze, feeling your heart race with anticipation of what is to come. “Don’t be ungrateful.” Mattheo whispers softly, while stroking your cheek. “Open your legs for me.” You part them only slightly as you feel your wetness pool at his words, stimulating your sensitive overstimulated pussy. “Wider, I’m not Enzo, I need to be deeper inside of you.” He immediately inserts two fingers harshly into you. “Berkshire lived up to his word, preparing your cunt for me. It’s soaked.” You whimper as his fingers stretch you and forcefully circle your clit. “I’m still sensitive.” You whimper barely audible, feeling your whole body fill with sensations at your boyfriend’s touch. “You wanted the both of us, love, so now you’ve got to take the both of us, no complaining.” Mattheo whispers harshly with eyes focused on your teary ones as you softly nod.
Mattheo continues to thrust his fingers inside of you, while wrapping an arm around your figure and pulling you against him. He rests his head against yours, allowing himself to take in your warmth and smell. I missed you, princess. You cling to his shirt as his fingers curl inside of you soaking his hand with your arousal. You let your head rest on his shoulder as you whimper at his touch. You missed his touch and warmth so much. “I love you, Mattheo.” You whisper with a shaky voice and watery eyes. “I love you too and I promise I’m here to stay.” He whispers softly before suddenly pulling his fingers away from your needy pussy. “But don’t ever fuck that toy of yours without my permission again or you’ll regret it.” He grabs your chin and forces you to meet his eyes. Your naked figure is shaky as you nod softly, eyes focussed on his dark ones. “How do you want me?” You ask innocently, knowing that pleasing your boyfriend is the only way he will lead you cum tonight.
“Hands and knees.” He states and gets up to undress, while you move to please him. He watches you with longing eyes, while gently stroking your thigh before harshly grabbing the flesh of your asscheeks. “I’ve been hungry for you for a while, so this really isn’t going to be pretty.” Mattheo warns as he grabs his cock and guides it to your entrance to tease you, only brushing his tip through your folds. You spread your legs a little wider and lower your hips in search of more of his touch, while simultaneously grabbing the sheets tightly and arching your back, preparing for Mattheo’s animalistic side. However, he continues to tease you and watch you squirm for a few moments. Angry with himself that he allowed Enzo to have even a glimpse of how good you could be. He needed to fuck you hard and deep and probably more than once to find peace with what you had allowed Enzo to do to you. Without warning Mattheo thrusts into you, immediately earning a cry from you.
Firmly grabbing onto your hips he pounds into you like you’re a doll. You whimper his name as he hits your sensitive spot at a ridiculous pace. In record time your moans go silent as your mouth hangs open, face pressed onto the mattress as your pussy is forced to take Mattheo’s thick cock fast and deep. His eyes carefully watch you and when notices you’re only seconds away from climaxing he reluctantly pulls out, turning you into a sobbing mess and flipping you over onto your back. “Wide.” He demands and you spread your weak legs as wide as you can, ashamed at your own state and your desperation for your boyfriend’s dick you look away as he hungrily watches you while kneading your breasts, thumb moving over your nipple, before slipping his cock back inside your cunt. Mattheo cups your cheek and forces you to meet his eyes as he pushes himself deep inside of you, watching your lips part for silent moan as he stretches your walls. Softly he brushes your cheek with his thumb. “You belong to me, princess.” He growls and you nod with submissive eyes, before snaking your arms around his neck, while he settles in the crook of your neck. He starts rutting into you again, directly hitting the spot you need him to and finally giving you that much needed orgasm that nearly has you pass out. The blissful ecstasy running through your body helps your overstimulated walls take Mattheo a little longer for him to spill his load into you, something that was only reserved for him since he’s your boyfriend.
Your fingers entangle in your favorite curly hair as Mattheo pants against your shoulder, still keeping his dick inside of you for a few more moments. “I’m sorry for what I did with Enzo.” You whisper and Mattheo places a soft sloppy kiss on your cheek. “It’s okay, princess. I was an ass to you, I deserved it and you deserved a little treat.” You rest your cheek against him, but he moves away a little. “But, I meant what I said earlier. Don’t ever let him touch him with my permission. You’re mine.” You nod knowing he was dead serious, but you can’t help but like the idea that there is a possibility of him granting permission. However, at the moment your body was not in need of another round. “How about a warm lavender bath for the princess?” You nod, eager to lay on your boyfriend’s chest as the warm water relaxes your body. After all, it had been quite a long night.
Bonus?
Relaxed and cleaned, you enjoy the intimacy of sitting together surrounded by the water. You feel yourself dozing off as Mattheo runs the washing cloth over your skin softly while you lay on his chest. He kisses your cheek and you hum at his touch, making him chuckle softly. “I’m glad the smell of Enzo is finally gone.” Your eyes flutter open again as the tone of his voice warns you. “Get up. One last fuck. Then you can rest.” Mattheo’s voice is demanding and you get up reaching for a nearby towel. He follows swiftly and lets his eyes wander shamelessly. The plan was to at least get you to the bedroom, but when Mattheo catches you staring at his hardening member through the mirror he smirks, before pulling your body against his. With your back pressed against his chest, his hand snakes between your legs making him groan and you moan. “Be good for me and maybe I’ll let that toy of yours fuck you again someday.”
Word count: 3414
Picture source Mattheo
Picture source Enzo
#slytherin#slytherin boys#enzo berkshire#enzo berkshire imagine#enzo berkshire x reader#lorenzo berkshire x reader#lorenzo berkshire#lorenzo berkshire imagine#mattheo riddle imagine#mattheo riddle x reader#mattheo riddle#papercorgiworldwritings
396 notes
·
View notes
Text
Hello! I won't explain myself, yall should've seen it coming at this point 💆🏻♀️ I hope you like it and enjoy it! :)
CW/TW: NSFW (mdni), fem!reader, hate sex, reader is Fyodor's subordinate, mutual degrading (dumb slut, bitch, crybaby, etc), usage of (little) girl & she/her pronouns, reader slaps Fyodor, dacryphilia (both), riding, reader teasing Fyodor's mommy issues ¯\_(ツ)_/¯, oral fixation (?), mentions of blood and marks, if I forgot anything please let me know! :)
I apologize for any mistakes in advance! :) and sorry if this sucks, I haven't been very inspired + got a bit rusty me thinks :/ sorry if you dislike it!
Hate Sex || Fyodor Dostoevsky x Reader
You aren't entirely sure when exactly you started sleeping with Fyodor. Sleeping is probably a soft word to use, better way to put it is - you aren't sure when you became his little sex toy.
Perhaps in-between endless, to you - quite boring assignments and missions he was giving you, he decided to make a full use out of you to which you compiled as a good little subordinate you were. Which, by the way, he would disagree with.
He always had a snarky comment to make, not praising you once, not thanking you once for sticking by his side for so long and flawlessly executing all of his desires.
Without questioning his reasoning, without asking for details - you were a perfect weapon, a perfect executor. Unlike Fyodor, who was far away from a perfect superior, treating you like you were nothing but one of the mere useless pawns he was using as he pleased. You would lie if you said it didn't hurt your ego or that it wasn't pissing you off each time his eyes would look at you with disinterested, even bored gaze after you give details of everything you executed perfectly. Waving his hand at you in a lazy manner as he turns on his chair, not giving you a benefit of a simple praise, a simple acknowledgment of your hard work.
His treatment towards you was beyond unfair, as if he was holding all those useless idiots above you. It was annoying, humiliating and it made your blood boil. There was not a single way to hurt Fyodor, you knew that, but you were also the only person who had him in one of his most vulnerable states.
So, why not use that to your advantage and let out some pent up stress you were experiencing?
"I completed the mission perfectly. Again." you say in a stern tone, slightly sighing as you close the door behind you.
"Is that so?" Fyodor doesn't give you even a proper moment of his attention, voice distant as his gaze remains on the paper he was holding. You silently click your tongue, but quickly compose yourself as you walk up to his desk, eyes swiftly scanning over the paper in his hand.
"Indeed it-"
"Bring me a cup of tea since you are back." he cuts you off in a beat, that familiar feeling of humiliation settling in your tummy again. You remain still, gaze evidently displeased with his request.
There is a prolonged moment of silence, a thick layer of tension filling up the distance between the two of you. Finally, Fyodor looks up, gaze switching from disinterest to slight irritation upon meeting yours that was holding evident annoyance. He drops the paper, fingers elegantly colliding together, hiding his lips.
"Is there an issue with my request?" he says in a serious tone, the usual silkiness of his voice getting lost. His gaze is sharp, shamelessly piercing through yours. You feel your whole body burning, breath short as your remaining dignity gets ruined by him, once again. However, you decide to swallow your pride this time, once more.
"No, sir. I will be back in a couple of minutes." you say sternly as you turn on your heel, closing your eyes once he can't see them anymore, anger boiling inside your tummy.
Your hand reaches the doorknob when Fyodor stops you in your tracks.
"Take your time."
There is a split second of initial confusion.
"Wash yourself up first, I can't have you walking around looking like that. Dirty and unpresentable."
You hear a rustle of papers as you shoot him a cold gaze, the one he doesn't return, too busy with work. As always.
"I thought you liked the taste of blood." you make a dirty remark, lips slightly curling as shameless pride fills you up. Fyodor glances sharply in your direction, sucking his cheeks in, his very discreet way of showing annoyance, but you notice. You hum as the feeling of pride overwhelms you, another remark leaving your lips quickly.
"One more thing."
You pause for a moment, noticing that his gaze slightly softens.
"When you make a request, you usually use the word please. Just for the future reference."
Your face molds from a sly expression to an irritated one, voice sharp. You quickly open the door, not giving him any time to answer you, enjoying the feeling of victory. It's not the full experience you desire, but it will make you satisfied for now.
There are so many more ways you wish to use in order to humiliate him and ruin that disgusting demeanor of his.
Lucky or unlucky for you, either way, Fyodor shared the exact same feelings towards you.
Which is why you got an invitation to his room tonight - to fulfill another of your endless, unappreciated duties and ease up his pent up irritation.
Couple of hours later, you find yourself greedily kissing Fyodor, hands gently pulling on his purple locks. He carefully sucks on your bottom lip, letting his tongue slide over it in a teasing manner. Your hands sneak underneath his thin shirt, fingertips messily exploring his lanky body. He lets out a mellow whimper as his tongue finds yours, sound getting muffled by the kiss.
Foreplay with Fyodor was different than his usual self.
He wasn't the most loving, evidently, but he was holding a certain tenderness during it. That's truly the only part of his that you were looking forward to. The vulnerable, whiny Fyodor that only you get to see. That only you get to ruin.
He swiftly slides his thumbs between your panties and hips, greedily rolling them down your thighs as you undo your bra, allowing him to softly kiss your chest area as the bra falls down your arms. Your hands move to take off his boxers, his hard, needily dripping cock softly pressing into your tummy as his hands pull on your hips, fingernails slightly digging into your skin.
Quickly enough, you find yourself on top of him - as always. He leans his back against the bed frame, hands falling on your hips, fingers shakily pressing into your skin, needy for you to pleasure him. With a slight dissatisfaction in your eyes, you look down on him for a few moments. In those few moments you let all of your anger and hatred towards him settle inside your body, a burning sensation of a desire to humiliate him like no one did before swirling inside your tummy.
You align your dripping cunt with the tip of his cock and slowly move your hips down, each inch stretching you out more and bringing soft moans out both of your throats. Your ass reaches his thighs and you remain still for a moment, purposefully clenching around him, receiving a breathy moan of his in response. You give him a sly smile as your hands rest on his trapeziuses, fingernails slightly digging into the cold flesh as you start moving your hips up and down, in an agonizingly slow manner.
Fyodor keeps his gaze on you, there is a lingering anger behind his eyes, even though mellow whimpers escape his parted lips. You let out a mellow moan each time you slide completely on his cock, its tip reaching the deepest spot inside of you. You remain at your pace, slow and teasing, not taking your eyes off of him. His fingernails dig deeper into your hips, squeezing a light gasp out of your lungs as he kneads on your skin roughly.
"Go faster." he orders, voice cold but quieter. You smile, bending your knees and adjusting yourself into a frog-like position. His face softens at that, he loved when people were obedient to his orders. You lift your hips up, letting only the tip of his cock remain in your needy cunt, holding it like that for a moment, letting the anticipation build up.
Fyodor's lips part in expectation of a heavy thrust, but he only receives a slow slide down on his cock, a sly smile curling on your lips.
"I prefer it like this." you say in a playful tone as you slowly move your thighs and hips up and down, occasionally clenching around his pathetic cock. He lets out a soft grunt, either from dissatisfaction or pleasure - perhaps both. He digs his fingernails more into your skin, receiving a sharp gasp of yours as the burning sensation tingles under your almost ripped skin.
"I said go faster." he says in a cold, almost threatening tone, as his fingernails keep on digging into your skin. You let out a yelp, but keep your pace slow and teasing. There is an evident anger and frustration lingering in your gaze, chest shaky with a desire to hurt him. However, you keep your composure, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of riling you up.
"Only if you say please." you force a teasing smile, pussy clenching around his tip before you slide down in an even slower manner. His grip on your hips becomes painful, a sharp gasp escaping your throat in response as your hands fall onto his wrists. You barely pull his hands away and keep them on the sides, meeting his anger filled gaze, returning the same treatment.
"Say please." your voice is more stern as you keep slowly sliding up and down on his cock, suppressing your own moans each time it rubs over your sweetest spots. Fyodor remains silent, lips parted in pleasure that he was trying to hold back as your grip on his wrists tightens.
"Do you need me to spell it out for you?" you ask in a sharper tone as you let yourself remain still, sitting on top of him as his cock reaches the deepest parts of you.
There was something challenging, dark in his eyes as he finally replies.
"Who do you think you are to order me around? Should I remind you of who you are?" his voice is cold, but his cock slightly twitches inside your warm, dripping cunt as you remain still. Your lips become shaky, grip on his wrists loosening as your tummy burns in a mixture of annoyance and anxiety. He moves his hands away from yours, letting one of them fall on your waist as the other one cups your cheek, thumb drawing small circles on your skin.
"You are a dumb little slut." he says in a condescending tone, a sly smile on his face, but slowly his annoyance takes over him as he finally lets his thoughts out.
"A dumb little slut who is good for nothing but my cock. And can't even do that properly." he spats out, voice becoming more filled with hatred.
"A dumb little slut who thinks she has any say in how I will behave. A dumb little bitch who thinks she can tell me what to do." his voice grows more deep, more annoyed, more everything.
"Disrespectful senseless little girl who expects praise every time she does her job. Is that why you behave like a desperate whore every time you finish a mission?" he continues, his thumb gently caressing your burning cheek. Bitter tears slightly cloud your vision, all the hatred melting away as he continues talking. Your pussy clenches around his cock regardless of your emotions, a soft breath getting stuck in your throat.
"You want me to call you a good girl? Is that what you clench around me for?" he asks in a lower, more gentle tone, eyebrows slightly rising at your pitiful state. You bite your bottom lip, reverting your gaze away from him for a moment. He chuckles, cold thumb delicately wiping away the small tear that was rolling down your cheek.
"Remember that awful feeling, that's what you get for disobeying me. And girls who disobey me don't get to be called good for it." he continues in a silky tone, moving his hand away from your cheek and letting it fall on your bruised hip as his face softens in the feeling of victory.
His gaze remains on your mocking-worthy expression, a soft curl of his lips revealing amusement and satisfaction he was feeling. You let the feeling of defeat and humiliation spread inside your body for just a moment before you compose yourself. Your gaze pierces through him, eyebrows furrowing in faint disgust and frustration as his words repeat in your head.
You hate to admit the fact that his nasty insults make your pussy leak even more precum than before mixed with the pure desire to punish him for it. Almost mindlessly, you start bouncing on his cock in a fast, greedy manner, receiving sharp gasps of his in response. Your hand sneaks into his hair, fingers roughly pulling on his locks and forcefully pulling his head back.
A strained moan escapes your throat as you keep on moving up and down, each full thrust making your head spin as his cock pressures all of your overly sensitive spots. His fingers shakily grab on your skin, unable to make a proper grip as your ass keeps slamming on his thighs in a rough manner. He lets out breathy whimpers as your cunt keeps on sliding over his needy cock, thighs bruising from the force you were riding him with. You swallow your own moans, only a few short whines escaping your lungs as you pull his hair more, exposing his pale neck.
Your gaze falls on how the muscles of his throat strain with each sound he makes before it moves to look him into his pathetic, half-lidded eyes.
"Yeah? You want to know what you are?" you speak in a breathy, heavy manner as you keep on bouncing on his cock. You don't feel a single thing besides anger and the fast pleasure building inside your lower tummy each time he reaches your g-spot. Your hand wraps around his throat, thumb pushing his chin back as your grip on his hair tightens.
"You are my dumb little toy. Just look at yourself, getting used by me like a personal dildo." you let out a strained chuckle as you switch your movement from bouncing to grinding, your hips making quick and heavy rolls on his cock.
You let out a sharp moan as his cock perfectly pressures your sweetest spots. Fyodor lets out a mixture of strained whimpers and grunts of disagreement, clawing his way into your outer thighs. With the way your hands roughly keep him in place it's hard to speak, but you can see an obvious anger breaking through his pleasure-filled eyes.
"You are my slut. You are a dumb little manwhore who needs me. You need my pussy, don't you?" your voice is firm even though faint whimpers fill in the gaps between your words.
You let go of his hair, but your hand remains on his jaw, firmly keeping it in place as you force him to look at you. You speed up the movement of your hips, not letting the soreness of your muscles get in the way.
"Tell me. You need it, don't you? You are a pathetic creature, can't even get off without me." you chuckle as your hand slides away from his jaw, down to his throat. You wrap your hand tightly, resulting in Fyodor's eyes to roll back, heavy whimpers slipping his parted lips alongside a small amount of drool.
He shuts his eyes closed, trying to regain some strength as his fingernails leave deep marks in your skin, making it burn and ache. His cock twitches inside of you, pulsating heavily as your needy and fast grinds become unbearable for both of you. Fyodor's fingernails dig even deeper into your skin as your grip on his throat tightens, a quick gasp escaping your lips as the pain becomes sharp and unbearable. Without a thought, your free hand lands a heavy slap on his cheek, making his head turn as your grip on his throat loosens, hand falling next to your body.
He gives you a frustrated look, lips immediately finding your nipple as he begins sucking roughly on it, almost mindlessly. You let out a sharp moan, throwing your head back as your pussy keeps sliding on his throbbing cock, sending shivers up your spine.
"Yeah? Is that how your mommy used to do it? Slap you around and then give you a nipple to play with?" you give him a breathless laugh before a heavy moan cuts you off as he bites on your nipple in a harsh manner. His fingernails dig deeper into your skin, a small amount of blood rolling down the flesh of your thighs.
"Fuck!" you almost scream out as you throw your head back, both of your hands falling on and tightly squeezing his bicepses as your pace on his cock remains the same. Your cunt starts to clench and pulsate around his leaking cock, heat beneath your skin tingling in a pleasurable manner.
Fyodor keeps on sucking on your nipple, a bit gentler than before, his eyes surprisingly tearing up. He lets out soft snivels and whimpers, hot breath heating up your flesh even more as his tongue relentlessly slides over your nipple. You bring one of your hands to his cheek, rubbing soft circles in a condescending manner - just like he did to you. You regain your focus, even though the heat that keeps on swirling inside your whole body makes it quite hard.
"Ah, don't be a crybaby now. Nobody likes little dumb bitch boys who cry during sex." you say in a teasing tone, wanting to degrade him more, but he starts rolling his hips into yours, barely but enough to make you lightheaded as his cock pressures your sensitive spots more.
He lets go of your practically bruised nipple, mumbling something as he messily moves to your other one and begins sucking on it in a greedy manner. You let out louder moans as your hips keep on rolling into his, your precum leaking and spreading all over his balls. The pain in your thighs from riding him for so long and from the fact he made you bleed becomes overwhelming, but the knot inside your lower tummy urges you to suck it up.
His cock reaches the deepest spots inside of you, perfectly rubbing over your g-spot and making you beyond dizzy as your orgasm slowly approaches. Your cunt keeps involuntarily clenching and relaxing around him each time he makes a harsher suck on your nipple, sending jolts through your whole body. You let out sharp moans and gasps as Fyodor pants into your skin in-between the heavy sucks, his cock throbbing inside your leaking cunt.
You curse under your breath as the knot inside your lower tummy starts slowly unraveling, first waves of your orgasm making your thighs shake. He barely lets go of your nipple, panting and whining in a desperate manner, eyes heavy as you fuck his brain out using only your hips. Your chest feels heavy as your breathing becomes incoherent, loud gasps in and out occupying your throat as your orgasm finally unravels.
Your whole body shakes as you squirt all over his cock and balls, making his own body shake as he gets close to his own climax. The pace of your hips becomes messy, the pain finally settling in and making it hard to move as the jolts of the peak of your orgasm rush through your body. Fyodor's hands fall onto your hips, desperately trying to hold you down as pathetic whines escape his dry throat. You swiftly lift yourself away from his cock and he gasps loudly, whole body shaking as a tiny load of cum drips out of the tip of his cock and slides down his length.
He lets out shaky pants and whines, clawing into his own thighs as his release gets ruined. You quickly put on a shirt, your breathing still incoherent and heavy as you slowly stand up, pulling your panties up.
Fyodor gives you a mixture of a needy, desperate, irritated and pathetic gaze, his cock softening and twitching as your combined releases slide down his balls. He remains silent, but he brings his semi-bloody fingers close to his lips, the tip of his tongue gently licking them. You give him a dirty look, a sly smile forming on your face.
"Remember that awful feeling. That's what disobedient, disrespectful and badly behaved boys deserve." you say in a bitter tone as you pull up your pants, letting out a small yelp as it rubs over the bloody scars on your thighs.
You leave his room, letting the lovely feeling of humiliating him overflow inside of you.
You won...this time, that is.
#fyodor dostoevsky x reader#fyodor dostoevsky x reader smut#fyodor smut#fyodor x reader smut#fyodor x reader#fyodor x y/n#fyodor x you#fyodor dostoevsky smut#fyodor dostoevsky x you#bsd smut#bungo stray dogs smut#bungo stray dogs imagines#female reader
863 notes
·
View notes
Text
Darlin’, Darlin’
Pairing(s): Jacob Black x Swan!Reader, Jacob Black x Bella Swan, Edward Cullen x Bella Swan
Warnings: wolf imprinting, scenting, makeout, agedup!jacob, hurt&comfort, one night stands, changed it a little bit from the prompt, renee being a crap mom, sorry i tend to write her in a negative light but i have never been able to stand her character 😅, plus i have my own unresolved mommy issues lol 😅 , mention of alcohol consumption, reader smokes, unprotected sex just imagine reader being on birth control, flings, virgin!jacob, losing that v card, kinda bitchy reader?
Words: 4818
Stepping one foot out of your taxi, you finally take in the sight of the Cullen residence. Just to make sure, you double check the address that was on the wedding invitation.
Yup, this was the place.
Already there's festive laughter streaming out of the house. Some people lingered on the large wrap-around porch, talking amongst one another.
You weren't looking forward to the wedding but your mother called and pestered you enough to where you just gave up and sent in your RSVP despite your reservations. It wasn't that you didn't like Bella, you just never liked the idea of marriage. Your mom had failed at several before. In the end you always wondered what the point of it all was.
And a wedding in your mind was the most absurd thing to waste one's money on. Especially one as extravagant as this one. You surmise that the Cullens obviously were the ones to foot the wedding bill. Neither Charlie nor Renee would have the funds to put together a glittery wonderland like this one.
Readjusting the skirt of your dress, you walk up the steps, bombarded by the loud music and chatter. You were already regretting going through with it when you weave through the throng of people in the house. Unfamiliar faces that stare at you in your trek to find Renee. Though really you just wanted to fist a few drinks into you first. Your mom wouldn't be happy if you got drunk so early. It would definitely lighten your mood, but you shake off any thoughts of libations.
After asking around, you learn she's upstairs helping the bride get ready.
Fine paintings were displayed on the wall as you take one step at a time. They look to be originals too. Not that you knew much about art. The paintings were beautiful regardless. Everything about the Cullen house was meticulously perfect. A wonder how your clumsy sister was marrying into this atmosphere.
You follow a gaggle of female voices to a closed bedroom door. When you knock, a short pixie of a girl opens it with startling gold eyes. "You must be Bella's sister!" She's open and inviting, tugging you by the arm inside of the room.
Renee calls over to you, delighted at your presence. "You made it!" She throws her arms around you, suffocating your nose with her strong perfume. Like with most of your family, you were never close to Renee. The moment you were accepted into a university away from her, you leapt on the opportunity and never looked back.
She steers you to where Bella is standing in front of a floor length mirror that reflects her image. Her wedding gown was sleek and not as terrible as you first imagined it to be. When was the last time you'd seen her? Probably not since your own senior year in Arizona.
Her dark eyes round at your appearance, definitely not expecting you to be there.
"Hey Bella. Congratulations." Your lips quirk up in a small smile that hides your desire to not be there. This is what you had to do in front of your family. Put on a mask and pretend you were happy to see them. You felt awkward in that room, knowing your interaction was being watched by the pixie girl, your mom and an unknown blonde woman who was drop dead gorgeous.
Her thin lips part in a struggle to gather any useful words. "Th-Thanks." It was clear she didn't really know how to act around you either.
You shoot an anxious look to your mom as if to say 'See, I did what you wanted me to do now let me free.' Ridiculous how you still looked to her for any guidance even though she would offer you none. Renee merely sighs and nods her head toward the door.
Relief makes the warmth in your face cool down as you give Bella an awkward wave goodbye before hightailing it out and back down the stairs. The rest of the house was no better. Your claustrophobia starting to get the best of you as you desperately try to elbow your way to the backyard for some fresh air. It was so stuffy in there. The lack of fresh air flow was really starting to get to you.
That's when you bump into someone- well honestly you thought it was a wall by how sturdy and hard the person's body was. Wobbling backwards, you're grateful that at least the body you bumped into had faster reflexes than you. A large, tan hand grips at your wrist to pull you back up and stabilize your posture.
You stare up into a handsome face with penetrating dark eyes. His jaw slackens, whatever he was going to say. Pure shock ripples across his face.
"S-sorry about that." You apologize and brush off his hand, or at least try to. His grip on your wrist is incredibly strong. Furrowing your brows you look back up to him. "Um, excuse me. . ."
He blinks, snapping himself out of whatever stupor he'd been in. "Sorry. Sorry." His fingers reluctantly release your wrist, hovering over your skin until you pull your hand back to your chest. Cute and towering over you, you feel the anxiousness in your chest from the crowd subside. He doesn't move. Instead he introduces himself with a shallow breath. "I'm Jacob Black."
"Oh, Jacob Black. That name sounds familiar." You reply and give him your own name.
"You're Bella's sister." Jacob states but his voice still held a bit of confusion.
You awkwardly chuckle. "Yeah, that's me." The intense way he's looking at you has you slightly uneasy. "How do you know Bella?"
"We. . ." he clears his throat, finally averting his gaze from you. "We're friends. I live on the reservation. Charlie and my dad are best friends."
Trying to remember your childhood with Charlie, nothing comes up. When your parents split, initially you lived with him. But being a small kid alone at night while he was working wasn't really ideal. After a while it was decided that you should be with Renee and Bella. It must have seemed like the best option. Honestly you were screwed with either parent.
"Since you've been in the loop," from your peripheral you notice a waiter carrying around a tray of drinks (thank god they were serving alcohol before the ceremony) "what is Bella's fiancee like?"
That sours his face. Jacob doesn't bother to try and hide his dislike for this guy that was marrying your sister. His lips squirm but he couldn't conjure any positive words. "He's. . . well, I don't trust him."
"Why? Does he mistreat her?"
"Well-"
"Oh!" You smile when you connect the dots. "You like Bella, don't you?"
He's slightly loud now. "No!! No, I-I don't like her. I mean, I did, but not anymore, obviously."
Was it obvious though? The way he was yammering on made it all too obvious that he still had feelings for her. You watch him suffer, occasionally taking a sip of your champagne. When he winds himself out, he mutters one more apology. Jacob's face a beet red. You just chuckle.
"No need to apologize. Guess it was my bad. I don't know much about Bella. We've never been close. I was just curious."
Around you, the flow of guests was starting to congregate to the backyard. "I think it's time." You take one more sip and set aside your champagne flute.
At the reception, you again find yourself outside on the front porch. Her husband (and his family) were quite honestly the most beautiful people you'd ever set your gaze on. And they seemed to genuinely love Bella. You just hope that her marriage lasts longer than any of Renee's.
Next to you on the front step was another cocktail. Your fingers were occupied with holding up your cigarette. Watching the slow dance of the smoke curling upward. It was a beautiful evening, you'd give them that.
Having said hello to Charlie a few minutes ago, all of your duties here were over. You'd stay in the little rinky dink motel that Forks has tonight then head back to your actual home.
Snuffing out the stubby remnants of your cigarette, you toss back the rest of your drink and fish your phone out of your jacket pocket.
You're about to call a taxi before you hear the creaking of the porch's floorboards behind you. Twisting around to see Jacob Black leaning against the wooden column. "Heading out so soon?"
All honesty, he was cute. A year or two younger than you, Jacob was like a giant in comparison to Bella's now husband. More muscular too.
"Yeah. I have to go back to work the day after tomorrow." You won't tell him just how eager you were to return even if that meant you had to work. Anything was better than be surrounded by strangers. "I have a motel room for the night though. Gonna call a taxi."
"I can give you a ride, if you want. It'll probably take a taxi time to get up here." Jacob looks down the narrow, winding road that was the only one to lead up to the Cullen estate.
"Really?"
There's a ripple of relief in his gaze and the spreading of his smile. "Of course. You wanna go now?"
Arching a brow, you look around him to the front door where inside was the warmth of celebration. "You don't want to stay?"
His nose scrunches up. "Nah. There's nothing left for me in there."
Weird way to put it but you shrug it off and follow Jacob to a little red Volkswagen car that, while being on the older side of vehicles, appeared to be well maintained. Definitely didn't match any of the other fancy looking cars lining the Cullen's driveway. You're surprised they didn't hire a valet.
Pure magic the way Jacob maneuvers his car around all of the others without hitting any of them. Watching it made you nervous so you'd squeezed your eyes tight, listening to Jacob chuckle.
A good thing about Forks was that it wasn't a big town. And the motel was the only local one in the town.
"I appreciate this. Can I give you money for gas?" You lean back into the worn cushions of the seat.
"Don't worry about it." He just waves you off. The lightness in his voice doesn't match the anxious drumming of his fingers against the wheel. You frown at the behavior, tucking it away in the back of your mind. Your nature was to be untrustworthy of people. Especially those you've just met.
"Why did you go to Bella's wedding?"
"Because she invited me. And. . . as much as I hate him, Bella's still my friend."
That was sweet but the ceremony must have been a dagger in his heart, another reminder that the girl he loved could never be his.
'Why did you go to her wedding? You looked like the whole thing was actual torture." Jacob turns your question against yourself. "You even said that you aren't close with Bella."
"Obligation. My mother paid for a plane ticket to come to the wedding without my knowledge. Really laid that guilt heavy when she said the ticket was expensive." You roll your eyes when you remembered that phone call. "And I guess it's the least I can do as the older sister. Just show up."
A lull in conversation settles until Jacob brings up "So you probably won't be coming back any time soon. . . That's a shame. . ."
You shrug. "There really isn't a reason for me to stay. My life isn't here."
The drinks you previously consumed were beginning to make your tummy warm and your morals. . . well, loose. You start really taking in Jacob's side profile, his defined cheekbones and full lips. The muscles that are roped in his neck. Were you really entertaining the idea of sleeping with Bella's sloppy seconds?
You bite your bottom lip, fighting against the ache you feel between your legs. It had been a while since you'd last had a good rutting. But you felt that this guy, no matter how sexy he appeared, was a virgin. That was something you didn't want to deal with. You wanted a man who knew what he was doing.
Reigning in your drunk horniness, you turn your head to stare back out the window. No, you definitely didn't want to have another reason to come back here.
Quiet the rest of the way to the motel, you watch the neon sign grow closer as Jacob pulled into the pebbly parking lot. You stretch and grab your bag from between your feet.
"Thanks again for the ride. Are you sure you don't want any money for gas?"
Why did he look like a sad puppy?
"Like I said, it's alright. But. . . Can I get your number instead?"
You feel your brows shoot up and you know you must have a ridiculous expression. "My number? What for?"
His cheeks tinge with warmth as Jacob peels his eyes away from you. Yup, definitely a virgin.
"I'd. . . I'd like to get to know you." Was all he could mumble out.
Damn he was making it too easy for you.
An impish curl to your lips. "You can still get to know me. Want to come inside for a little bit?" The implication was too obvious that even Jacob was able to catch on your meaning.
Poor thing is stammering, conflicted with saying yes but the sweet part of him wanted to reject your offer. You really didn't think he would agree but enjoyed the shock he got from your words.
Letting him sit in the car perplexed, you open the car door and bid him goodnight.
It only took a second before you heard footsteps right behind you. You felt his body heat at your back when you open your motel room door. The lights were still on, the way you left them, at least casting a warm glow over the meager furniture in the room. You set your bag down on the chair and finally turn around to face Jacob.
He's blushing terribly, unable to hide his nerves and you take pity on him.
"You can sit down, ya know." you chuckle and he obediently sits on the edge. "You said you wanted to get to know me more, right?" Crouching down, you open the mini fridge that the motel offered. Having already stashed away some items you bought at the liquor store. Fingers crack open the can.
Jacob's gaze fires something inside of you. His blush was intense but it didn't compare to the heat in his eyes. A small blush of your own actually tinges your face. "Yeah. I did. Like what's your favorite color or your favorite food?" His smile would flood any girl's panties.
You hide your giggle by taking a sip from your can. "Hmm, those are real stumpers." The more the both of you joked around, the more tension that leaves Jacob's frame. Sitting next to him he's now comfortable enough to scoot closer to you so that your bodies are pressed together.
In a rather sneaky way, Jacob had stolen your can of beer and was drinking from it too. Well, now you couldn't have him driving back home tonight with a good conscious.
And just as the alcohol was starting to warm him too, his hands grew bold and traveled from resting on your thigh to your waist and higher until you were pressed against his chest. Jacob's kiss overflows with passion and lust that completely takes your breath away. He's definitely kissed before, that much was certain.
His skin nearly scalds under your fingers as they find themselves gripping the soft cotton material of his button up.
This was a new Jacob that you hadn't seen. Was he keeping this part hidden deep down all along?
Hot hands hike up the hem of your dress, impatient to rove the skin of your upper thighs. He palms the soft, squishy flesh of the insides of your thighs before pausing near the elastic band of your panties. He's groaning to himself, knowing what lay beyond the flimsy fabric. Just to verify for yourself, you grind yourself against the tent of his pants. Jacob shivers and given your unvoiced permission, his fingers pull aside your underwear.
His face is hidden in the crook of your neck, lips nipping at the juncture of your jaw. It makes your head tilt back to give him more access. Jacob growls in appreciation, thick fingers playing with your wet pussy lips. You squirm, wanting him inside of you but he was strong and kept you at bay. If this was indeed his first time then Jacob was in no rush. Like he wanted to memorize through the touch of his fingers each intimate part of you.
Nose nuzzling the soft skin of your throat, inhaling deeply. A finger grazes over your swollen clit making you jump from the sudden contact. Your little whine just makes his cock harder. Jacob chokes on his own moan and glides over your clit again.
Most men wouldn't even know where the clit is. Especially virgins. Jacob seemed to find it right away and liked how this small button of nerves could send you into a spasming fit.
As much as you want to regain control, your head is swimming from the attention he's giving your body. Eager hands and lips.
Jacob becomes slack jawed when he finally inserts a finger past your sopping folds. "Oh fuck"
He keeps whispering 'fuck fuck fuck' as his finger slides in and out, helped by your pooling arousal coating it. Your mewling is cut short though and turns into a cry of dismay when he removes his hand completely to examine his glistening digits. Bringing it up his lips, he sniffs it and you swear a dark possessiveness seizes his expression. Jacob licks his fingers and thumb clean.
While he's distracted, you scramble to fling your clothes off; skin burning up with desire. When you look back at him, his eyes are now glued to your naked form.
"Come on. You're turn." You grin and lean back against the pillows on the bed.
So obedient, Jacob nearly rips his shirt to shreds. The buttons were but an obstacle to him now.
Boy were you delighted to see his sculpted body. His abs and cum gutters that were oh so prominent. And once his pants were removed-
How was this guy still a virgin??
You've been with your share of men, but none of them had a cock as thick as a beer can. Damn near hypnotized watching it as he crawls on the bed and slots himself in between your open legs. Something animalistic on his face as he grabs your legs and throws them over his broad shoulders. Going by pure instinct, the bulb of Jacob's cock is dragged along your begging slit, experimentally bullying the tip inside.
Once he had the tip in, he snaps his hips harshly, piercing you and stretching out the walls of your pussy with his thick cock.
Now you're the one chanting 'fuck fuck fuck' repeatedly as he gives you no time to adjust. Now that he's inside of you, Jacob can't help but devour you entirely. Fingers digging into your plush skin as he holds onto you tightly. The tight squeeze your pussy offered his cock was driving him inside so that he mercilessly pounded into you. You enjoy every second, every ram his cock tip dealt your cervix. It was impossible for a virgin to fuck you this good and this dumb but there you were just a screaming mess. Absolutely no thoughts in your head, only focusing on the stretch the width of his cock gives you.
You try your best to buck against him, to reciprocate every pleasure he gave you but it was laborious to keep up with him. So you just let him use you as a fuck doll.
You wanted to be fucked into oblivion.
Jacob had a rude awakening the following morning, not just due to the slight headache that was ringing in his brain, but because when he reached over for the warm body he thought was next to him there was only cold bed sheets.
He peels his eyes open to find the bed completely empty besides himself. There was a piece of paper with black inked writing. It had an apology. You were running late to your flight and apologized.
But no number.
Staring at it for a moment, Jacob sighs, running a hand over his face. He just couldn't believe what he'd done last night. Worse was you'd left no number.
Really, he couldn't help himself once he'd imprinted on you. That was sealing the fate of the night. Especially when he smelled your arousal. Fuck, he was just hoping to be invited to stay with you. Though he didn't quite believe it at first when you'd offered him to come inside your room. He would've done anything in the moment to stay a little longer with you.
The alcohol wasn't what really urged him on once he got going, it was the wolf in him. To claim and. . . Jacob blushes to admit it, but to breed too. All instinctual, of course. He wasn't ready for kids and clearly you weren't either. But that's what his wolf was howling at him to do.
It was embarrassing to admit that at the end of the day, his wolf really did control him.
He runs away from his own thoughts by reading your note again, overly focusing on the lack of number. Anxious thoughts sweep him up in a smashing wave.
Pressure upon his chest makes him feel like he can't breathe. Repressing the urge to shapeshift into a stronger form that would allow him to really express the anguish he was feeling. It hurt when Bella rejected him. The hurt had stayed with him up until he'd spotted you.
He thought it cruel kismet that you turned out to be Bella's sister. Who would blame him though? No one has seen you in Forks since you were small. And Bella never spoke of you either. To him, you'd only been an urban legend with only a handful of pictures as shaky evidence.
This explains everything though. Why he was drawn to Bella. She would eventually lead him to who he really belonged with. You.
The animal in him gnashes it's teeth together, growling for it's imprintee, it's mate.
If only Jacob knew.
Find her.
Find her.
Find her.
A constant bark in his mind until he leapt from the bed and got dressed. He couldn't silence it until he obeyed. Finding his cellphone drained of battery. Jacob curses his past self for not charging it prior to the wedding. He'd have to wait to call Bella and hopefully she would answer on her honeymoon.
You frown at the unknown number that had your phone ringing. Since you were at work, you ignore it.
At first.
Four more calls sets you at your limit until you excuse yourself and go into the hall to answer it. "Hello?"
"You're a piece of work, you know that?! Showing up to my wedding without speaking to me for years?!"
"You invited me! And mom made me!" You snap, knowing who it was. Bella. What was she doing calling you? She was supposed to be on her honeymoon with her perfect husband. Renee must have given her your number. "What is it? What's so important that you pulled me away from work?"
"How could you do that to Jacob? You fuck him a-and then just leave without anything?!" You remember that stutter from childhood. It always got worse when Bella was upset.
Grinding your molars, you make sure to lower your voice so you weren't heard from your coworkers. "I left a note explaining that I would be late to my flight."
You hear her derisive scoff "But no contact information! Was he just a fling to you? A-A boy toy?!!"
The laugh left you before you could stop it.
"You think this is funny?!"
Cackling now, you have to take a deep breath to settle yourself. "Oh my god I don't think I've heard anyone say that in years!"
That adds heat to her tone. "You can't use people like that!!"
"I didn't use him. For god's sake Bella, we had a good time and that was that. I told him I didn't have anything left in Forks. Gave him plenty of opportunities to leave. I didn't force-"
"He-he REALLY likes you. And you just tossed him aside! That night meant more to him than you could possibly know!"
Maybe you should have been more considerate. But your jaded side was strong, having been fucked over by guys one too many times before. Some of them virgins too. Fuck you didn't want to say Bella was right.
"He can't be that upset that I dashed without leaving him a number. We hardly know each other. He'll find someone else now that he has the confidence that he could even get a girl."
Bella goes silent for a moment. You hear soft whispers in the background, most likely Edward. She returns to you with a frustrated huff. "Look, just- please call him or better yet go see him. I've never expected much from you, but you have to see him again. Please."
This was the only thing she's really asked for from you.
You called him when you got home, heavily apologizing because it was most possibly the best sex of your life if you were being completely honest. And he deserved an explanation on why you'd left without giving him your number. "It wasn't anything you did, really. I'm just kinda a shitty person. I'm really sorry. . . I should've been more empathetic. I remember when I lost my virginity-"
"Oh god. Th-that's not the reason why I wanted your number. I didn't just want to screw you. I. . ." You listen to him gulp. Jacob takes a deep breath. On the other end, unbeknownst to you, was Jacob pacing back and forth at a rest stop near where your city was in. He'd never meant for it to sound like he was tattling to Bella and butt-hurt. All he asked was for your number before she countered demanding a reason why. He was completely honest with her. She blew up at him over the phone to the point he had to hold his cellphone at arm's length. Bella hung up immediately once she was done. Probably to call you. Apparently she hadn't told you about the whole wolves and imprinting thing.
Using what scent was left on his shirt, he'd strapped his shorts and shirt to his leg and shifted to his wolf to track you down. It may have been extreme, but by the time he'd gotten Bella to answer her phone he was already at his wit's end. He knew he may have come off as a creep by doing this. This was an itch he desperately needed to satisfy. The wolf in him demands to know where you'd gone.
He couldn't say that to you. That would make him sound downright demented.
"I would just really like to know you. For real. Not just your favorite color or food. I want to know that too, but I want to really know you." God did he sound lame? Jacob thought what he just said was totally lame.
"You sure? You may not like what you find." There's a hint of sadness.
"I'm positive."
Setting up another date, you put down your phone with a tender smile. Maybe. . . Maybe this wouldn't be like all the other times. He sounded sincere. And no one else has gone to the trouble of getting your number from anyone.
You just hope you weren't making a big mistake.
Grabbing your cigarette and lighter, you head outside onto your small porch.
You put it between your lips while your thumb fumbles with the lighter's sparkwheel. A crunching sound a few feet away from you makes you pause. The cigarette falls from your lips as you stare into large brown eyes stare at you from a break of trees. Russet fur was highlighted by the street light that was near. You didn't think wolves were capable of growing to such a size. This thing was gargantuan.
There's not an air of danger around it. The wolf merely wags it's tail, snout shaping into what you could only describe as a grin before it pads back off into the night.
You smile to yourself. "Wow."
It was the most beautiful thing you'd ever seen.
Perhaps a good omen.
Tags:
@enchantingcupcakecollectionfan
@bakugospartner
#reader insert#reader insert fanfiction#twilight fandom#twilight fanfiction#the twilight saga#twilight saga#twilight#jacob black#jacob black x reader#jacob black fanfic#jacob black fanfictions#jacob black fanfiction
472 notes
·
View notes
Text
Why II
This is a repost cause i deleted all my fics
Major warning if you have mommy issues or daddy issues or parental neglect issues pls do not read this
and if you do read this pls don't blame me for anything, including but not limited to excessive crying/sobbing, a depression slump/ wanting to kill someone or anything else
Or if you're name Sarah
part 1
Alexia Putellas X Child!Reader
Tw: Negelct, Angst
Summary: Why did she not try
Why didn't I make the effort to acknowledge you, or even offer a simple greeting, when all you wanted was a moment of recognition?
Alexia was back from Elena’s high school graduation when she saw the Envelope on the dining table, mark with her name on it, she was going to open it when she realized it was your handwriting. She rolled her eyes thinking it was one of your notes, asking her to spend time with you or something similar. She threw the envelope into the bin and started looking through her email. The sky soon turned dark, she realized she hasn’t seen you since she came back which was unusual since you were always clinging to her like a lost puppy. She was going to order take out for both of you, when she recieved a text from Elena asking her if she wanted to celebrate her graduation with dinner, she texted her back saying yes, and called you to come down so she could give you money for your dinner. When you didn’t reply her or rush down she just left the money on the counter and went out for dinner. When she came back the lights were still on, she thought nothing of me until she saw that the money she left you was left untouched. She walked up stairs and open the door, noticing your barren room. She decided to call you, but all she heard was,
"Thank you for calling. The number you have reached has been disconnected or is no longer in service. We apologize for any inconvenience this may cause. Please check the number and try your call again. Thank you.”
Since when did your number change she thought, she wanted to ask your friends if they knew where you were but she realized she didn’t even know who they were. Then she remembered the letter that she envelope that she threw to the bin,
When she opened the envelope and read the letter, she felt empty she didn’t know why, she thought would be happy wouldn’t she after all she had been pushing you away all this time. So she set the letter down, change into her evening gown and went to sleep. But as the weeks past, she felt the empty feeling grow into a pit in her heart. She started missing the notes you left, the way you would smile when she talked to you, the warmth of your presence in the house. She missed the little moments that she had taken for granted.
As more a month flash by she started trying to look for you after all you couldn’t have gotten that for right. She decided to go to your room trying to find anything that could lead her to where youu went instead she found, a book, she then remebered that in your letter you wrote that you were excited that you made it into the school's football team. When she first read it she was confuse as she never remembered you even taking an intrest in football. But after she saw the book she realized you did indeed tell her you make it to the football team, it was also the day she was supposed to fetch you from school as you had been begging her to for a long time, so she just said yes. Hoping you would stop pestering her, she didn’t fetch you that day, and instead of giving you an explanation, she just ignored you when you told her your exciting news, and told you she would talk about it over dinner, which she also missed.
She then remembered all the other times you tried talking to her, yet she just regarded you as a pest, wanting you to just stop. How she regrets it now, as all she wanted was for you to come back through the front door and hug her telling her you change your mind. And she would make up for all the times she dismissed you. However it didn’t happen you didn’t walk in, the house was still missing your presence, and the emptiness lingered in every corner.
Alexia couldn't shake off the overwhelming guilt that consumed her. She realized how she had neglected you, how she had failed to offer even a simple acknowledgment of your existence, let alone celebrate your achievements and share in your excitement.
As she sat in your barren room, holding onto the book that held a piece of your excitement and dreams, she couldn't help but feel the weight of her own shortcomings as a mother. She wished she could turn back time, to undo the hurt she had caused you, to be the supportive and loving mother you deserved.
But no amount of regret could change the fact that you were gone, that she had lost the chance to make things right. The realization hit her like a wave, crashing down on her with a force she couldn't bear.
Tears streamed down Alexia's face as she clutched onto the book, her heart aching with the longing for your presence, for another chance to show you that she cared.
Why did I neglect the most fundamental tasks you asked of me, yet expect you to readily assist me in my every request?
She was still trying to look for you when she, reread your letter for the hundred time, she read the part where you said that you asked if you could go to the arcade with your friends and that you’ve always bent over backwards to fulfill her every request. She recalled the times, she would asked you to help her buy things before and during team building and didn’t even ask you if you wanted to join, instead reminding you that you had to help her clean up after it ended. She then remembered all the times you ask her if she could go to the beach with you, or attend your concert or events and she said she was busy.
She remembered how she always seemed to prioritize her own needs and desires over yours, expecting you to readily assist her in every request without considering your own wishes and feelings.
The weight of her negligence and selfishness hit her like a ton of bricks. She realized how she had taken you for granted, how she had failed to see the love and effort you were pouring into your relationship with her, only to be met with indifference and neglect in return.
Alexia's heart ached with the realization of her own hypocrisy. How could she have expected you to be there for her when she couldn't even spare a moment to acknowledge your needs and desires?
Why couldn’t she had just try to make time for you maybe then you would still be here with her, she thought as she was holding back tears telling herself she didn’t deserved to feel sad as it was all her fault.
Why was I consistently absent from your most significant moments, offering nothing but hollow excuses in return?
Alexia now had a routine go to training or a match and comeback home to try to look for you. The only times it ever change was when she had an away game even then, she checked the camera that she installed in the front door ( incase you came back and she wasn’t there) religiously. When she checked her phone she saw a message from Elena, she ignored it as now every time she saw it she saw a message from her she only remembers the fact that she missed your primary school graduation even though she promised you. Or the fact she always said that she had to help Elena with something and missed your milestones and important moments. She remembered all the reasons she thought was good reasons that now she realized was pitiful excuses.
All the times she said she was busy, and the way your eyes dimmed but you still hugged her and said it was okay. She wondered how much she hurt you but didn’t realized or more accurately was to busy to care.
And you... why didn't you question me when I stopped paying attention to you?
She found a photo album titled 2019 summer road trip, she didn’t remember going on any road trip before, when she opened the album she saw a photo of you in a car, she then remembered of the week she didn’t see you at all. And when she did you asked her if she wanted to ask you anything and she just ignored you thinking it was one of your antics. Turned out you had gone on a road trip for a week, and she didn’t even realized. She wondered why you didn’t ask her if she notice but you did in fact try to, as she vividly remembers you trying to tell her something but she just tuned it out and focused on her phone.
The weight of her neglect weighed heavily on Alexia as she flipped through the album, each photo a painful reminder of the moments she had missed, the moments she had failed to share with you.
She recalled the times you had tried to reach out to her, to question her absence, but she had brushed you off, too preoccupied with her own affairs to spare a moment for you. The guilt gnawed at her insides as she realized how much she had hurt you, how much pain she had caused with her indifference and neglect.
Alexia couldn't understand why you didn't push her more, why you didn't demand her attention and question her absence. She knew deep down that you deserved so much more, that you deserved a mother who would be there for you, who would prioritize your needs and desires above all else.
But instead, she had failed you time and time again, offering nothing but hollow excuses in return for your longing for recognition and acknowledgment.
As she sat there, surrounded by memories of the moments she had missed, Alexia couldn't help but feel a profound sense of regret. Regret for the time lost, for the moments she could never get back, for the love and attention she had failed to give you.
What actions of mine led you to accept the disdain from me , your own flesh and blood, to endure such neglect?
What exactly crossed my mind when I opted to engage with her instead of you, my own daughter?
Alexia couldn’t help but ask herself what exactly did she do to make you accept her negelct like it was normalcy, and maybe it was to you. Her mind settled on to the memory where she believed Elena over you, and scolded you for something you probably didn’t do. She then recalled the fact she had took the necklace back from Elena planning to give it back to you when you apologized. You never did, and that was a blessing in disguised. She rummaged around her drawer for the necklace and when she found it, she knew she didn’t give it to you that’s when she remembered in your letter it stated that you found someone that treated you like her own daughter, who was there for you when she wasn’t. She shouldn’t feel sad, angry or jealous that you relied on that women instead of her but as she held the necklace in her hands, engraved with the word "Princesa" and signed by someone named L.W., Alexia couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy towards this mysterious figure who had seemingly filled the void in your life that she had left gaping open.
She realized that she had pushed you away, prioritizing her own desires and relationships over nurturing the bond she had with you. The memory of scolding you based on Elena's words instead of listening to your side of the story haunted her, knowing now that it was a pivotal moment where she had failed you.
And as she sat there, clutching the necklace that symbolized the connection she had failed to maintain with you, Alexia couldn't help but wonder why she had chosen to engage with others instead of prioritizing you, her own flesh and blood.
She knew that her actions had led you to seek comfort and acceptance elsewhere, to find comfort in someone who treated you like their own daughter when she had failed to do so.
But even amidst the guilt and regret, Alexia realized that she couldn't change the past. All she could do now was acknowledge her mistakes, learn from them, and strive to be a better mother to you, even if it meant starting from scratch and earning back your trust and love.
And as tears welled up in her eyes, Alexia made a silent vow to herself – to never again neglect the most fundamental task of being a mother, to always prioritize you above all else, and to make up for the lost time and opportunities she had squandered in the past.
And despite the pain and letdowns I've inflicted, why did you persist in holding onto hope that I would come through for you
Despite the pain and letdowns she had inflicted, Alexia couldn't help but wonder why you persisted in holding onto hope that she would come through for you. It was a question that haunted her as she grappled with the realization of how much she had failed you, how much she had neglected to be the mother you needed and deserved.
When a parcel labeled for you arrived, Alexia couldn’t resist the urge to open it. Inside, she found a medal inscribed with the words "Copa Juvenil Estrella" – "Star Youth Cup." Confusion washed over her as she struggled to understand why you would receive a medal from one of the most competitive under-21 tournaments in Spain. It was then that the pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place.
She remembered the day of the tournament finals, the same day you had asked her to attend your football match. She recalled how she had brushed you off, claiming to be busy with her and Elena's training. It was a moment of realization that hit her like a bolt of lightning – she had prioritized her own interests over yours once again, and it may have been the final straw for you.
As Alexia connected the dots, she felt like burying herself six feet under. She couldn’t believe she didn’t know you were playing football much less knew you were playing it at such a high standard.
She wondered just what else she didn’t know about you. But she knew she could only hope that she’ll find you and that you’ll be able to forgive her so that you could build up your relationship again.
I just wish that one day I'll gather enough courage to ask for your forgiveness, and to find the strength to accept that you may never be there for me, regardless of how much I now yearn for your presence in my life
As Alexia was sitting down looking at her computer, a picture came up with you in her arms the day she adopted you and promised you she would love and take care of you forever. However all she did was the opposite, she remembered all the conversation’s or missed opportunities you had hinted at in your letter and, memories came rushing back to her,
“Mami, I made it into the school’s football team.”
The words barely registered as she mumbled a distracted response.
“But you promised you'd pick me up today.”
Your disappointment was palpable, "I know, sweetie, but something came up. The helper will take care of you," she said, barely sparing you a glance as I tried to focus on my task at hand.
"
As she watched you retreat to your room, she couldn't help but wonder why you seemed so upset. Didn't you understand that she had important things to attend to? Why couldn't you just be patient and wait for her to finish?
“Mami, can I go to the arcade with my friends? It’s the last day of school.”
She thought that you should help her with her teambuilding since you were her daughter after all.
"But I finished all my work."
Your insistence only added to her frustration. "I said no. End of discussion," I declared, my tone final as I brushed off your request. Didn't you understand that she had more important things to worry about than your petty desires?
"Why does she always choose someone else over me?"
As she watched you resign yourself to another night at home, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of annoyance. Why couldn't you just accept that she had my own life to live, her own priorities to attend to?
"Mom, why can't you come to my graduation?"
Your hurt was evident in your voice, but she couldn't afford to dwell on it. "I have a work commitment, sweetie," she replied, her words hollow .
"I didn’t do anything wrong, Mom."
Your protests fell on deaf ears as she refused to listen. "I don't want to hear it," she cut you off, her disappointment palpable as she struggled to come to terms with your perceived shortcomings.
All the things she thought about you and everything she said was what pushed you away. Each dismissive remark, each broken promise, each moment of neglect drove a wedge between you, widening the gap in your relationship until it became insurmountable.
As Alexia sat there, reflecting on her past actions and the impact they had on you, she couldn't help but feel a deep sense of regret and remorse. She wished she could turn back time, to undo the hurt she had caused, to be the mother you needed and deserved.
But she knew that she couldn't change the past. All she could do now was acknowledge her mistakes and strive to do better in the future. She realized that she needed to confront her own shortcomings, to learn from her mistakes, and to prioritize you above all else.
With tears streaming down her face, Alexia made a silent vow to herself – to gather enough courage to ask for your forgiveness, and to find the strength to accept that you may never forgive her, regardless of how much she now yearned for your presence in her life.
As she sat there, clutching onto the memories of the moments she had missed, a notification from Instagram interrupted her thoughts. The post was from Arsenal, and the caption read:
"Welcome to Arsenal, our new signing Y/N Williamson”
#angst#liquidation writes#woso soccer#woso fanfics#woso#woso community#fc barca femeni#womens football#woso imagine#alexia putellas angst#alexia putellas imagine#alexia putellas x reader#alexia x reader#alexia putellas
277 notes
·
View notes
Text
Sniffles and Snuggles - Eddie Munson x Reader
An As You Wish story
Collaboration with my dear @munson-blurbs 💕
Older!eddie edit by the lovely @eddiemunsons-missingnipple
Summary: When your baby girl wakes up sick, her daddy is there to take care of her
Note: The thought of Eliza being all clingy to Eddie because she doesn’t feel well and just wants her daddy inspired this so I hope you enjoy the thoughts that just pop into my head
Words: 4k
[As You Wish Masterlist]
A familiar cry wakes you from your slumber. It’s muffled—coming from down the hall. Your eyes open in the darkness of your bedroom. Glancing over at the window you see the slightest gray creeping into the blackness of night. Morning must be rolling around you surmise as you stretch your arms out above your head. The cry sounds again and you stare up at your ceiling while you wait to see if it’s going to continue or not. There have been times where Eliza has woken up, cried out a few times simply because she wanted attention, then let it go.
Eddie’s fast asleep next to you, turned your way, giving you a clear view of the drool dribbling out of the corner of his mouth. A soft chuckle falls out of you as you trail your gaze down to see your husband’s bare chest slowly moving up and down with his steady breaths. Another cry from your daughter breaks your focus on your sexy man though, and you push yourself out of bed to go see what’s bothering her.
The closer you get to Eliza’s room, you can hear the different noises she’s making. These aren’t just the typical cries she sometimes has in the middle of the night. There’s whining and a whimpering that’s breaking your heart.
“Hey, what’s going on in here?”
As soon as you see your one-year-old you know something is up. Her cheeks are flushed and her brown curls are matted to her forehead in sweat. She’s holding onto the bars of her crib like she’s an inmate begging to be freed from their jail cell. The moment her eyes land on you, the whining picks up and she’s scrambling for your attention.
“What’s wrong, Sweet Pea?” you ask.
Not even making an attempt at the few words she knows how to say, Eliza simply raises her arms for you to pick her up. The heat radiating off of her little body in its pink onesie is evident the moment your hands are on her. Frowning, you hold her against your chest and gently press your lips to her forehead.
“Oh, you’re burning up, baby. Is someone not feeling well?” Eliza buries her head in your neck, and you have your answer. “Come on, you. Let’s take some medicine that’ll help you feel better.”
Intermittent sniffles come from the baby as you walk with her into the kitchen. The medicines are kept on a high shelf and there’s no way you’ll be able to rummage for what you’re looking for with your daughter in your arms. Luckily, her Disney Princess highchair is only a few feet away and you move to set her down in it. This elicits an immediate negative reaction from Eliza.
“It’s just for a second, sweetheart. Give Mommy one moment to find your medicine.” She clings to you as you try to place her in the chair, but a couple of kisses to the head and whispered assurances that you’re not going anywhere have her finally releasing her vice grip on you. As you watch her slump to the side in her seat, eyes glazed over and staring somewhere in the distance, you think her lack of strength or energy also contributed to her finally letting you go.
The children’s Tylenol is easily findable, and you pour some of the thick berry flavored syrup into a small dosage cup. Eliza eyes it warily, as if already knowing that she’s not going to like it. She wrinkles her nose up as the blue medicine comes closer to her and her whines start up again.
“This is going to help you feel better, my love. I promise.” You can’t blame Eliza for her cranky attitude, but you just wish she’d believe you and take the medicine without issue. But since when do children behave that way? Especially the children of Eddie Munson.
“Come on,” you say as you set the little cup on the tray of her highchair. “It’ll be over really quick. You might even like how it tastes.”
After a few more whiny protests and some cranky writhing in her seat, Eliza stares down at the liquid that might give her some relief. You’re pretty sure you can see the resignation in her brown eyes as gazes at the medicine.
“Here we go.” You lift the small cup up to her lips—which she begrudgingly opens—and tilt it up so the Tylenol pours into her mouth. The moment it’s all swallowed and Eliza closes her mouth, her face scrunches up in revulsion and she shakes her head. It doesn’t seem right to laugh when your daughter is feeling so lousy, but you can’t help but let out a chuckle at her visceral reaction to the taste. “Why don’t we watch a movie, huh? One of your favorites.”
Eliza’s body heat takes you by surprise again as you lift her from her chair. Her head lolls onto your shoulder as you walk into the living room and snatch up the movie on the top of the pile. The Little Mermaid disc isn’t in the case, and it doesn’t shock you at all. It’s probably already in the player, all ready to go.
You scoop up the remote on the way to the couch and click on the television. Eliza’s curls tickle your chin as you hit the buttons that will lead you to the DVD screen. As suspected, The Little Mermaid is in there and ready to be watched for the thousandth time.
“Here we go,” you say, snuggling into the couch with her. “Let’s watch Ariel, yeah?” You’re hoping that the medicine will allow her to get some more sleep. The way she holds herself to your body lets you know she wants to be cuddled. Adjusting yourself so that it’s comfortable for the both of you, you lean back and kick your feet up on the coffee table, allowing Eliza to use your torso as her bed. Her big eyes turn towards the television at the familiar sounds of her favorite movie. One of your hands goes to her tiny back, rubbing reassuring and calming circles, while the other gently strokes her soft downy hair.
You’re fighting sleep when you hear the heavy-footed sound of Eddie padding out to the living room. His hair is a mess, curls askew, and he scratches at his stubble as he yawns.
“What’re my sweet girls doing up at this hour?” he asks softly, re-tying the strings of his plaid pajama pants.
You return his yawn with a weary smile. “Someone is sick and spiked a fever, so I’m just laying with her until the Tylenol kicks in,” you explain, kissing your baby’s sweaty curls.
Eddie looks at you, kindness and empathy still radiating from his tired eyes. “Babe, you look exhausted.” He leans down to try and take Eliza from your embrace, frowning when you pull back. “Let me help.”
“S’okay, Eds. I got it.”
“But you need to sleep so you can go to work tomorrow,” he protests.
Noting that you’re distracted by the conversation at hand, Eliza takes advantage and wriggles from your grasp. She plops her head down on a nearby pillow and almost immediately falls asleep, congested snores emanating from her tiny nostrils.
You furrow your brow, lowering your voice so you don’t disturb your daughter’s slumber. “No, I’m staying home with her. You go into work.”
“I have more vacation days saved up,” he points out, holding out his arms. “Hand me the child and go back to bed.”
You give in, too tired to argue further, kissing him and Eliza before trudging back to bed. You look over your shoulder before you head down the hall, back to your bedroom. Eddie has made himself comfortable on one side of the couch, placing a throw pillow on his lap. He carefully maneuvers Eliza so she can curl up in the same position, rubbing gentle circles on her back to try and break up some of the congestion. It’s not his first rodeo with a sick kid, and based on his older children’s experiences, it won’t be his last.
When your alarm goes off an hour later, you feel anything but rested. Your muscles ache as your body all but begs for more sleep, but you try to shove away the discomfort with a warm shower. It helps somewhat, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t almost fall asleep standing up.
The family room is quiet; the only sound is the soft hum of the DVD player whirring, the movie long over. Eddie is sprawled out on the couch, his long limbs flung in every direction over the furniture like an overgrown starfish. Eliza, always one to copy her daddy, is spread out on top of his chest. They’re both snoring, though you truly can’t be sure which one of them is louder.
Trying to make the least amount of noise possible, you head into the kitchen and prepare breakfast for yourself and the boys. You know the drill by now: cereal for Ryan, Eggos for Luke. This particular morning though, you don’t think you’ll be able to ingest anything other than a large cup of coffee.
The ringing of two alarm clocks faintly reaches you in the kitchen. Knowing it takes both of them a minute—or a few in Luke’s case—to get out of bed, you know you have time to finish prepping the food before you head down the hall to intercept them. You have to inform them that on this side of the house there are two sleeping beauties currently sawing wood.
“Hey,” you say in a hushed tone as you meet up with the boys in front of their rooms. “Daddy and Eliza are sleeping on the couch. You have to be quiet, okay?”
“Good morning to you, too,” Ryan grumbles, rubbing his left eye with the heel of his hand. Sometimes his preteen moments popped up when you were least able to handle them.
“Why are they on the couch?” Luke asks, voice lower for him, but still a bit loud.
“Eliza isn’t feeling well, and they must’ve fallen asleep waiting for her medicine to kick in,” you explain.
“Is she okay?” Ryan asks.
“She’s fine, sweetie. Just some sniffles,” you tell him. “Now come on, your breakfasts are ready.”
Most of breakfast manages to go smoothly and quietly, until Luke drops his fork on the ground, and it lands on the linoleum with a definitive clang. Your second oldest winces as he turns to you. “Sorry,” he silently mouths. Honestly, you had expected him to make a bigger noise than that at some point, so this is nothing.
Once they finish their breakfast, you usher the boys down the hall and tell them to get ready for school. You finish getting ready for work as well. It’s hard to focus on doing your hair or finding a pair of shoes when you know your baby girl is sick in the other room. But you know she’ll be fine; she’s with Eddie. Super Dad. Being a mom came with a boatload of anxieties, but Eddie always managed to make everything better and less stressful. You joke to him all the time that some magic must’ve rubbed off on him after all the times he’s played D&D throughout his life.
You finish getting ready the same time the boys do, and you see them slipping on their backpacks in the family room. They make no noise, yet their presence in the room must have been enough because both Eddie and Eliza stir from their nap.
“How are you feeling, Eliza?” Ryan asks, tone still soft and low.
His baby sister’s only response is to heave an overdramatic sigh, very reminiscent of her father.
“Feel better!” Luke chirps with far too much enthusiasm.
With an irritated whine, Eliza puts her hands over her tiny ears at her brother’s loud volume. She buries her face in Eddie’s chest, signaling that the conversation with her siblings is over. Eddie uses one hand to caress his daughter's brown locks, hoping it will calm and relax her, and waves to his sons with the other.
“Have a good day at school, guys,” he tells them. The two of them wave back and say their goodbyes before they head out the front door to get to their bus stop down on the corner of the street.
It’s your turn to leave now and you really don’t want to. This is the hardest you’ve ever had to push yourself to get out of the house and go to work. A restless night’s sleep or a massive headache making you not want to go in is nothing compared to knowing your child is home sick.
Once you have everything ready to go, you walk over and lean down to press a kiss to Eddie’s forehead.
“I gotta go now, baby. But I don’t wanna.” You give him the most adorable pout that has a smile lighting up his tired face.
“I’ll hold down the fort,” he tells you. “Have a good day at work. Though it won’t be as amazing as Eliza-Daddy Day.”
“I’m very jealous that I don’t get to be a part of it.” You smile down at your daughter, who has fallen back asleep, and admire the adorable features that she’s inherited from the both of you. “I’ll see you guys later. I love you.”
“We love you too, baby. I love you more, though. But don’t tell Eliza I said that; she’s a very territorial little girl.”
Chuckling, you lean down and press one more kiss to your husband’s lips. “Bye, baby.”
Eddie dozes on and off as he stays as still as possible on the couch so as not to wake the baby. It’s certainly not the most comfortable position, but he’ll be damned if his daughter is awake because of him. He keeps one hand on her back; she’s so little underneath it, and he’s suddenly overcome with a fierce urge to protect her.
Eliza eventually wakes up around lunchtime, tears immediately springing to her eyes. Her face crumples when she tries to breathe in through her nose and realizes that she can’t.
Eddie sits up a bit straighter, keeping his daughter close to his chest. “How ya feeling, baby girl?”
“Uck,” she grunts out, swiping messily at her runny nose.
“Are you hungry?” Eddie asks before deciding for her. “You need to eat something.”
He picks her up and starts to set her in a flowery pink baby walker—surprisingly, Luke had been the one to pick it out at Babies R Us—but Eliza is in no mood to be put down. She lets out a whine that sounds more like a shriek.
Eddie winces at the piercing noise, instinctively bringing her against his chest again. “Hey, hey, what is it?” he softly asks, but she just whimpers and hides her face in his neck.
“Dada.”
“Sweet pea, I was just gonna go into the kitchen to get us some lunch,” he tries to explain, knowing full well that it’s next to useless. “You’ll be able to see me the whole time.”
Eliza shakes her head against his body and sniffles pathetically. “Nooooo. Dada!”
Eddie sighs, giving in to the prospect that the two of them will be attached at the hip all day. “Okay, Lize, you can come with me,” he acquiesces. “We can make a mess of the kitchen together.” He lowers his voice before adding, “just don’t tell Mommy.”
He makes two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with one hand, the other holding on to Eliza’s diapered butt while he works “And they said I had no talent. Ha.”
“Goo Dada.”
Eddie’s glad he understands her normal baby talk enough, because interpretation is even harder now that she’s congested.
“I did good? Why, thank you.” He hands her a piece of sandwich and she immediately drops it on the ground.
“Eliza!”
She crosses her tiny arms and twists her whole body back and forth in protest. “Ucky.”
“Lize, you love peanut butter—”
“UCKY!”
“Okay, no peanut butter for you today,” Eddie mutters, shoving half a sandwich in his mouth. “Let’s see what else we got.”
There isn’t a whole lot in the freezer, but Eddie spots a box of frozen Italian ice cups and pulls it out. He flips the lid open and purses his lips when he only sees a few yellow cups inside.
“Guess your brothers ate all the cherry ones,” he grumbles as he rummages through the box, just to make sure he didn’t miss a red one. “Looks like we just have lemon left.” He makes an unamused face, but Eliza reaches out and grabs it anyway. “You want—y’know what? Sure.”
Eddie grabs a spoon from the utensil drawer and uses his foot to pull Eliza’s high chair over to the kitchen table—lest they be too far apart from each other and Eliza gets all fussy again. She willingly complies since she sees her Daddy will be sitting right in front of her. He pops open the lid of the frozen treat and sets it on the tray in front of her.
“All right, this is gonna be sour,” he warns, but she still eagerly accepts the bite.
Her lips pucker immediately, her nose scrunching up like a bunny at the strange sensation on her tongue.
Eddie lets out a laugh at the adorable and hilarious expression on her little face. “I told you! You want that sandwich now?”
Face still pinched up, Eliza vehemently shakes her head.
“Mo!” Eliza stretches out her hand towards the cup.
“I’ll be damned,” Eddie muses, but he obliges. She makes the same expression with each bite, but she eats nearly half of the serving before declaring, “no mo!”
Eddie gets Eliza cleaned up, not worrying about the mess in the kitchen right now. He’ll take care of it later, as he’s sure the sick girl will take many naps today.
He picks his daughter up out of her highchair and holds her on his hip. “Whatcha wanna do now?”
Eliza lets out a wet little baby cough and gives a shake of her head.
“You don’t know?” Eddie asks. “Hmm. Ah, I’ve got it.”
He stands up, balancing Eliza on his side. She lays her head on his shoulder while he walks into her princess-themed room, using his elbow to flick on the overhead light.
“Okay,” he says, kissing her temple, “let’s see what we’ve got.” He quickly scans the little bookshelf next to her bed to find her favorite story. With a triumphant grin, he plucks The Poky Little Puppy from its spot.
He tucks himself into the rocking chair, settling in and shifting his daughter into his lap. Reaching behind him, he grabs the bright pink throw blanket and drapes it over her, digging his toes into the carpet to gently sway back and forth.
Eliza is enraptured by her dad reading her favorite book to her, eyes wide as she clings to every syllable. She usually falls asleep to it, conditioned from countless nights where it’s been used as a bedtime story, but she’s still fresh from her nap. Besides, she’s having too much fun with this daddy-daughter bonding to be sleepy.
She only gets fussy again once Eddie closes the book, her symptoms more prominent without the distraction of Eddie’s story-telling skills.
“I think it’s time for another dose of medicine, baby girl,” Eddie whispers, trying to appear enthusiastic despite his own waning energy levels.
She downs the syrup easily, so out of sorts that she doesn’t even process its rancid taste until after it’s done. Eddie laughs at her contorted face, plopping down on the couch. “All right, my brave little girl,” he says as he grabs the remote, “what should we watch?”
The mere question brings a tiny spark to Eliza’s eyes, giving her just enough energy to bounce in her dad’s lap and point at the TV. “Mermah!”
“The Little Mermaid again?”
Eliza nods and Eddie internally groans. It’s a cute movie, but he’s pretty sure he could recite it line for line at this point.
“Okay, let’s go under the sea,” he says as he starts the movie from the beginning, settling in to listen to Sebastian belt out “Under the Sea” for the umpteenth time.
Still curled up into his chest, no indication of moving anytime soon, Eliza wipes her runny nose on her dad’s t-shirt. She doesn’t take her eyes off of the screen as she rubs her nose against the soft cotton with a sniffle.
“Thanks, kid.”
“Welcuh.”
Eliza settles her head on the middle of her father’s chest and watches the different colored fish and sea life all gather together at the concert for King Triton. Eddie doesn’t really pay attention, mostly just focusing on how the little girl’s breathing is sounding and trying to keep her body supported up against his.
But Eddie’s ears perk up when a familiar little voice joins in with the singing on screen. Ariel is singing “Part of Your World” and there’s a small, congested mumble singing alongside her. Eddie grins to himself as he listens to his daughter’s rendition.
“Schingamabobs? Gots twenny. Bu’ who cawes? No bih deal. I wan’ mooooooo.”
All the times Eddie insisted on singing to Eliza while she was in your womb have seemed to pay off. She’s a little musical prodigy after his own heart.
“You wanna be a mermaid, Lize?” Eddie asks her softly. She nods in response, never taking her eyes off of the television screen.
Eddie half-heartedly watches the movie with her from that point forward. When it comes to the scene of Ariel using a fork as a comb for her hair at the dinner table, Eliza reaches up and begins to play with her own hair. Silky brown curls slip through her little fingers as she absentmindedly strokes her locks. Eddie would love to know what’s going on inside her head right now. Is she thinking of trying to use a fork as a comb? When Eliza brings a few pieces of her hair in front of her face to study, Eddie has another thought. He wonders if she wants to have the same red hair as her favorite Disney princess. To show her that he loves her hair just the way it is, Eddie presses a few soft kisses to the top of her head.
As the movie progresses, Eliza becomes stiller on Eddie’s chest, and she’s not made a peep in a while. Her father watches her tiny back move up and down and sees it’s going in a slow, steady rhythm. As if to further prove his suspicion that she’s asleep, the sounds of her stuffy snores reach Eddie’s ears, making him smile.
Eliza stirs a bit, wiggling around in an attempt to get comfortable in a new position. Eddie gently wraps his arm around her to rub her little back in calming circles. Within seconds, she’s out like a light again.
“Daddy’s always gonna be here for you, Liza Bean,” he murmurs against her scalp, sweaty from fever. He takes a deep breath and settles in.
Neither he nor Eliza wake when you return home, both of them sound asleep on the couch. The kitchen is a mess; there’s a random piece of sandwich on the floor and a melted lemon Italian ice on the table, but clean-up can wait for a moment.
You watch the two of them breathe in tandem, heart soaring at the way your daughter curls up into her dad with all the love and trust in the world.
Fatherhood looks perfect on him, you think, but wrinkle your nose upon further inspection, but the booger stains on his shirt definitely do not.
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x you#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson fan fiction#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fic#AYW#AYWS
703 notes
·
View notes
Note
LOVE the new fic. The betrayal literally made me tear up.
I was just curious would Gojo have given up on Ms. Moon if she were married or maybe had a kid.
oh fu c k such a good idea whydidn'tithinkofthis- (this got so long i am so sorry)
in the fic, ms.moon is pretty traumatized after the gojo incident to have any real relationships after.
But maybe ms.moon gets into therapy, works through the issues of intimacy. You meet someone, nice, kind. You settle down, have a kid. It'll be nice for a few years...but when gojo comes back into your life. he'll shut it down quick.
Gojo's worse than his high school self now. He might not beat your husband up, but that might be a blessing compared to the tsunami he's about to havoc on your family. Using his connections, he'll make sure your husband never finds a job in the entire city, the entire region even. He might even dig up something your husband did in his past, a small drug problem he had with highschool-something that would get swept under the rug normally, but with Gojo's scrutiny, it's about to become a lot bigger.
You could stop it. With enough begging. After you'd cry your heart out, he'd shush you, wiping away your tears, saying that he'd forgive you for your transgressions.
You'd be expected to divorce your husband. Your husband would be pretty pissed with your flimsy reasoning of 'my childhood bully isn't done with ruining my life' but then he'd remember that there is a reason the Gojo family is so big. And they don't take kindly to competitors who stand in their way. You'd understand why he lets you walk away without a fight, but a part of you wished he would have pushed more, even if the result would have remained the same.
It's your child who suffers the worst through all of this. Maybe you had a daughter. Perhaps gojo would be a bit more tolerant towards her if she looked like you but she was clearly her father's daughter. In the past, you adored it, now it's another curse for you.
You have to keep her away, for her sake. Gojo is already more than upset that you dared to start a family without him. Besides, why would you want her with you? Why would you want her to suffer under gojo's whims?
A part of you has to admit that it's also for your sake. You don't want your daughter to see you like that. Weak, rolling under that man's thumb.
She's probably just a toddler when you have to leave. She's too young to understand when you say 'mommy's going away for a while'. Maybe you'd lie to her, say that you're going overseas and when she asks if she can come with you, you'd shake your head because talking anymore would be too much because Satoru's waiting in the sleek black car right on the curb. It doesn't matter what you say, she screams and sobs the entire time.
You don't touch your ex-husband, you don't even hug because you know Satoru's watching. You just ask him to take care of her before you walk into the car, getting into the passenger seat. Your daughter's still begging you to come back. You make sure the car is out of her sight before you start sobbing.
There's a hand on your thigh, squeezing, a mocking act of comfort. You're sure Satoru's grinning.
"Aw. Don’t cry, baby," you can barely hold yourself back from slapping him, though you doubted even pain would wipe that look off his face.
The hand drifts up your thigh, playing with the hem of your pants.
"Once we have our own kids, you’ll get way too busy to think about your old one.”
233 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
rainingmusic
Raining Music
fidess
Fides
automaticwizardpolice
Sans titre
raziblog
Untitled
fine-clonier
Jared K. Burks