#like yeah he was an asshole but they all acted like he was worse than homelander | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

azrielwingspan · 2 months

Text

SOON (THEO NOTT X READER)

Summary : Theodore Nott was just another Slytherin asshole to most of Hogwarts. But to you, he was something much much more.

Themes : Mild kissing and swearing.

A/N : This is my first Theo fic AHHH. Just thought I would give it a shot. Let me know how it is!

P.S.- This is strictly a one shot. There will be no part 2.

"He is quite charming isn't he?" Ginny commented sneaking a glance at Theodore Nott. Seated at the Slytherin table between his usual rowdy gang of friends, he smirked at something Lorenzo had said.

"I think the word you're looking for is enigmatic, Gin. For all we know, he could be Voldemort in disguise." you stated flatly, stabbing a piece of potato on your plate. Earning a smack on the arm for using You-know-who's name so boldly, you ignored Ginny's attempts at convincing you to attend the party being thrown tonight.

"Help me understand why you're so bloody against the idea?! Is it because you have to bring a date?" she raised her eyebrows in question.

"That may be a part of the reason." you refused to meet her owl like stare, instead choosing to focus on the copy of the Daily Prophet in front of you.

"Why would that be an issue ? I can name five people off the top of my head who would say yes instantly." she prodded further, thankfully choosing to redirect her gaze towards the mail she'd received. Taking advantage of her momentary distraction, you snuck a glance at Theodore again. The sleeves of his uniform were rolled upto his elbow and you greedily took in the sight of his veiny forearms.

"What are you looking at?" Ginny broke you out of the reverie, your eyes immediately flitting towards the shawl Pansy was wearing.

"Pansy's new shawl. I can't recall which store I've seen it in but it looks very familiar." The lie rolled out smoothly, misleading Ginny. The pang of guilt ,that never lessened in impact, hit you yet again.

"Oh. Yeah, it does look quite familiar now that you mention it." She went off on a tangent about clothes and you let out a relieved sigh.

Ginny couldn't know. Not for now atleast.

The morning went on, your focus elsewhere during most of the classes. Ginny hadn't brought up the party again but you knew it was unavoidable. You were definitely acting quite strange. Not being the one to turn down an invite, your sudden refusal to attend this massive party did come as a surprise to your friends.

You had your reasons. Utterly selfish reasons.

However as the evening rolled by, Ginny had cornered you into agreeing. On bringing up the issue of the date, she'd simply shrugged and said "I took care of it."

That did not sound very reassuring.

It was worse than you had expected.

"CORMAC MC FUCKIN LAGGEN ?!?" you hissed at Ginny , your back to the boy in question.

Ginny looked away sheepishly and said "He told Hermione who told me that he had a thing for you. So I thought you guys could talk? I mean you don't have to really. Just drop him off in a corner."

"Drop him---" pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration, you whipped around to face Laggen and gave him a saccharine smile.

"Nice to meet you Laggen but I'm not interested."

He looked astounded, trying to wrap his head around the rejection. After a few seconds, he managed to sputter out "We haven't talked yet. How can you--"

"Yes. Yes I can. You have my permission to tell everyone I'm your date but please don't approach me again. Bye." you sauntered off into the party, Ginny keeping up behind you.

"Where's Harry anyways?" you asked, straining your neck to see past the crowd.

"Running late. Neville set his pants on fire so Ron and Harry are helping him out."

Shaking your head in amusement, you let your eyes run around the room searching for him.

There.

Theo sat on the couch near the fireplace, one arm thrown around the back , a glass of amber liquid in the other. The smoke from Mattheo's cigarette made his figure hazy.

"I'm gonna go grab a drink." Ginny said her voice floating by. You nodded distractedly , your attention held captive by Theo.

As if sending your presence behind him , he turned his head around and met your eyes. Slight confusion marred his face making his eyebrows furrow. He hadn’t expected you to be here.

Signalling to you with a quick nod of his head, he excused himself from his group of friends and made his way to his dorms. You stayed down for a couple more minutes , getting yourself a drink to throw off suspicion.

“Hey, I didn’t think you’d come tonight. Ginny change your mind?” Pansy popped out of the blue , startling you.

“Uh.. Pansy, hey. Yeah you know how Gin is.” Pansy was a bit of a talker. Aware that this conversation could go on forever , you tried to come up with an excuse. “Hey listen, I’ve got to use the bathroom real quick. I’ll find you again alright?”

Not waiting for a response , you made your way in the direction of the bathrooms and took a sharp turn in the opposite direction once you made sure Pansy had redirected her attention. Sneaking up the stairway to the boys dorm, you took a moment for yourself outside Theo’s dorm room, straightening out your clothes.

“Took you long enough.” His voice drawled as you entered his room, the familiar surroundings providing a sense of comfort.

“Pansy almost started a conversation.” You said laughing lightly at his wide eyed expression.

“Didn’t take you long then.” He corrected his previous statement , prowling towards you.

“No. I guess it didn’t.”

Wrapping an arm around your waist, he pulled you into a searing kiss that had you holding onto his shirt for balance. The words 'I missed you' played at the tip of your tongue struggling to be let out.

He nipped at your lower lip , a breathy sigh leaving you as you tangled your hands in his hair.

"Cormac Mc fuckin Laggen? Seriously?" Theo muttered , lowering his head to place soft kisses across your jaw. Leaning your head back to give him more access, you let out a soft laugh. "That's exactly what I said. Ginny is the real culprit."

A strangled moan left your lips as he sucked at your neck, immediately soothing it with a sloppy kiss. "T-Theo..you idiot. That's gonna leave a mark." He just hummed in response seemingly lost in the pleasure. Tugging his head back, you made him meet your gaze head on.

"If we stay up here for any longer, they'll suspect." A shiver passed through you as his hands trailed lower and cupped you arse, pulling your hips to his. "Let them." he said dropping his head to capture your lips once more.

"THEO, YOU IN THERE ??" Blaise Zabini's voice boomed through the door making you jump. A string of Italian curses left Theo's mouth as he ran a hand through his hair.

"Yeah give me a minute!"

Cupping your face in his hands, he leaned down to your face placing you at eye level. "It'll all be over soon alright? We won't have to hide anymore. We can be free." The promise in his eyes lit a spark of hope within you, a rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins.

"Soon." you whispered , your eyes fluttering shut as you placed a kiss on his Dark Mark.

#theodore nott x reader #theodore nott #theo nott #theo nott x reader #slytherin #slytherin boys #theodore nott x you #theo nott x you #theo nott x y/n #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott x fem!reader #theo nott x fem!reader #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #slytherin x reader #slytherin boys x reader #slytherin boys x you #fanfic #fanfiction

998 notes · View notes

inklore · 1 year

Text

code breaker

premise: there’s always been something there, between the two of you. unspoken and filling in the cracks of those moments where joel is helping you out of a tough situation and your offering up a thank you and sweet smile. if only it didn’t take bloody knuckles and some band-aids to finally crack the code of that something.

pairing: joel miller x (f)reader

word count: 6.2k

warnings: eighteen+ content, unprotected p in v, smut with feelings really, fem receiving oral, friends to lovers, mutual pining, fluff, mentions of violence and blood, alcohol mention, toxic exes and relationships discussed, dirty talk, biting and love marks mention, lots of banter, au (preoutbreak).

note: i meant for this to be darker but it turned out wayyy more fluffy and i’m actually really happy about it. i hella edited this but it still feels choppy so if it is i’m sorry ya girl has bad eyes lmao. gif made by me so don’t be an ass and steal it tysm <3

There’s words you should be saying right now. Expressing. Spilling from your mouth in a heap of thank you, I appreciate you, what would I do without you always being there for me…

But they just can’t seem to come out. The speech part of your brain—and your heart—aching and prompting you to speak. To show courtesy, your vocal cords refuse to let you get out. Like your mouth has forgotten its purpose, your throat hoarse from screaming Joel’s name in the chaos of thrown fists, people shouting, men trying and failing to haul Joel’s weight off of the bloodied body below it.

The blood on his knuckles pulls your eyes in like a neon sign: caked, dark, and drying the longer the air gets to it. If it hurts Joel doesn’t state it—show it as he grips the steering wheel. You’ve never thrown a punch before, have never seen something like this up close and personal. You excelled at resolving conflicts before they arose. Never let arguments get past the phase of unfair yelling. But you would assume his knuckles must be aching, even if only a dull pounding.

You know for certain your ex's face is.

Good.

You hadn’t expected him to show up at the bar, your job. Hadn’t expected him to start in on the possessive act—coincidently the local patrons were less than surprised at the all-too-cliché behavior. The town having labeled him as bad news ages ago. Something you had to learn the hard way, when you finally took off those rose colored glasses.

Joel had been staring at you for the duration of the exchange. Even after your ex left to hang out with a group of his buddies in the corner, his gaze lingered on you.

"You alright?" He asked as he slid his glass towards you, his forearm leaning against the bar. A wordless nod letting you know he wanted another.

"Yeah, he’s not the first creep I've had to deal with. It's in our DNA as women to deal with the lesser species of the male population."

"Can’t tell if that makes me feel better or worse as a father."

"Oh," you send him a sweet smile. Setting his refilled whiskey in front of him, "no creep dare mess with Sarah. I’ve seen her make jocks cry."

"That’s my girl, taught her well." The grin he wraps around the rim of the glass makes something girlish—and foolish—spark in your stomach.

Maybe if you had a man like Joel in your life, you would be less likely to keep making the same mistakes with no-good assholes who are good for a week and bad for the rest of the 358 days.

A girl can dream.

And she has. Embarrassingly.

The two of you had continued to talk, your hip pressed against the bar as you cleaned a glass; perhaps you had been smiling and laughing too hard at what Joel was saying because your ex was back and grabbing you from across the bar in an instant.

An action that quickly landed him passed out and bloodied on the bar floor, and your boss trying to make sure Joel hadn’t taught him too good of a lesson to have him see God.

And while the adrenaline of shock had been bruising your heart against your rib cage, your lungs devoid of air—when Joel had put his non-bloody hand against your arm, calling your name (the white noise of the commotion in the bar creating an impenetrable barrier to your ear drums), a warm thumb under your chin pulling your attention away from the limp body on the floor and up into his eyes—that adrenaline melted and turned into serendipity.

Gratefulness.

Those girlish sparks turning into an entire flame that quickly engulfed you as he asked if you were okay. As he comforted you with a barely there touch on your arm and chin, concern in his dark eyes. Concern for what? Frightening you?

When your gaze is drawn to his knuckles, his body language responds with a grimace. When you see the gashes only bone against bone brings.

He’s worried he’s upset you. As if he's done something wrong.

When he insists on driving you home you don’t argue. Wouldn’t dream of it even if the circumstances were different. It wouldn't be the first time he drove you home because your beat-up car wouldn't start or because the weather was bad and your anxiety was high.

That’s the thing about Joel.

He was always there.

If you needed help, he always seemed to find time.

Because of this, and the aforementioned beating your toxic ex to a pulp, you shouldn't be allowing the silence to spread between the two of you like strangers. Like something in the air was making everything awkward, like you hadn’t sat in his truck a dozen times before. Like he hasn’t gotten you out of a pinch (minus the blood) before.

And after he’s pulled into your driveway, engine turned off, the cicadas and crickets filling the silence, it’s Joel who finally speaks.

Who cracks that barrier you have mentally been trying so hard to climb over.

"I’m sorry if I," he clears his throat, flexes his fingers against the steering wheel. "If I overstepped."

And the ridiculousness of him even apologizing has your mouth finally moving into action. "Joel, no, oh my gosh, no." Your palm presses against your chest as you look at him apologetically; you should be the only one saying sorry, thanking him, worshiping at his feet for this. "I should be the one saying that. I should have handled it myself or-"

"Or what?" He looks almost angry, shocked at your words. "He had a hold of you, and no disrespect, but I ain’t ever seen you kill a fly, let alone throw a punch at someone."

"Hey! I could punch someone."

"Could and would are two different things."

"You sayin I couldn’t?"

"I’m sayin' you wouldn’t."

"Not tough enough?"

"Your heart's too big."

"If you knew how hard I was holding back the urge to prove you wrong by bruising that bicep of yours, Joel Miller, you’d think differently." Your scowl and threat only seem to amuse him because he’s grinning at you. "You’re lucky you’re injured."

"I’m shaking in my boots."

"As you should be." The laugh the two of you share makes your cheeks burn. On the outside, many could and have labeled Joel as a complicated man. A man who takes a lot of nudging and persistence to get to know past that surface-level workaholic grump he sometimes displays. But he’s a man who would lend a hand at the drop of a hat. A man with honor embedded in his very DNA.

There’s a list you’ve kept in the back of your mind that has every bullet point filled out and doodled hearts around the edges of all the reasons Joel is a good man. A man you trust. A man you adore.

"Thank you, Joel." He starts to shake his head, but you stop him with your palm resting on his forearm, "thank you. "You're right, I don't think I even know how to make a proper fist, let alone connect it." Your soft laugh makes the corners of his lips tick up. "You didn’t hesitate to help me. You never do. It means a lot to me, I hope you know that."

He nods, his eyes only on your face. Listening. Taking in every word you’re saying, even if you know he hates the fact that you’re thanking him for this. But he deserves to know how much you appreciate him.

Your hand moves to his wrist, gently yanking it away from his vice-like grip on the wheel. Your index finger runs along a vein at the top of his hand—the one spot the blood didn’t cake on to. "Does it hurt?"

"No. Between the callouses and the whiskey, it’s nothing more than a cat scratch."

"You should still get it looked at."

"You’re looking at it, aren’t ya?"

Your eyes roll. "I’m not a doctor, Joel."

"All a doctors gonna tell me is to be more careful, hand me a band-aid, and charge me three hundred dollars."

"Well, in that case," you drop his hand and grab for the door. The dry summer air ineffective to your already burning skin from the man whose raising his brows at you, "I got band aids in the house, and I didn’t get to finish my shift, which means you owe me three hundred in tips alone sooo."

"There's barely three hundred people in this town, and you’re tellin me you make that in tips?"

"Joel, just get in the damn house." You order, slamming the door of his truck and walking up the path to your front door. Smiling when you hear him huff and grumble under his breath as he gets out.

A hiss—and a scowl so deadly it could scare away even the biggest and badest of grown men—has Joel’s hand twitching in your hold as you run a wet cloth along the tops of his knuckles. The fabric pulling up the caked on flecks of dried blood, the surface of the cuts along the bone already starting the healing process from being clotted with red.

"I thought you said it didn’t hurt?" You smirk playfully.

"Whiskey’s wearin' off," he grunts.

"Or," you dab the cloth in the small cap of saline solution you’ve pulled from your first aid kit under the sink. Bringing it back to his skin to press gently across his cuts, his body tensing. "You’re human after all," his eyes roll.

"Don’t alert the press."

"Oh, they’ve already been informed."

His hand rests on your thigh as you ball up some tissues to dry the area around his knuckles. Enough to keep the band-aids—the only thing he would allow you to use because gauze would just get in the way at work, he informed you when you insisted—from falling off. The heat from his palm burns through your jeans, and it's a blessing in and of itself that you're ignoring how it makes your insides feel; how your body's warmth is no match for how hot he feels. His legs are spread, body slouched against your couch, his knee against yours. A closeness he’s never been before. A casual touch and directness between friends that shouldn’t be making you feel feverish and cheeky.

When he flexes his fingers a couple times and his fingertips run along the top of your thigh, you find yourself wishing you’d worn a dress to work. A skirt. Anything to have been able to feel him do that against your bare skin. A thought you chide yourself for. A thought you hope isn’t written all over your face when you look over at Joel and he’s staring at you. Eyes darker, expression unreadable and stoic, in that way you can never tell what emotion he’s feeling at that exact moment. He gives nothing away but still sends your stomach plummeting.

After the band-aids have been stuck and you’ve cleaned up the mess on your coffee table you offer him a drink.

"Unless you have to get back to Sarah, then I understand."

"She’s with a friend tonight."

"You gonna tell her how you saved the day, all knight and shining armor style?" You tease as you walk back to the living room with two beers in hand, putting one in Joel’s outstretched one and the other to your lips. Taking a sip as you take your place beside him once again, this time a leg pulled under you as you face him.

He snorts, "don’t know about all that."

"I’m sure word has already gotten around. Her friends are probably gabbing about how heroic Mr. Miller is, a real prince charming." You laugh when you see his grin.

"Or," he says, swallowing the sip he's just taken. "She’ll give me that death glare that all teenagers possess after puberty, you know the one?"

"Oh, I know the one. Mine was so fierce my mother banned it from our house."

"It’s deadly."

"Truly."

"I’m sure prince charming will be the last thing connected to my actions. Rage and jackass sound more on the money."

You frown. Watch as he stares down at the result of the rage he thinks will now be accompanied with his name. Tarnishing it that now people will forget the kindness that was once there, the man whose hardworking now turned into something vile all because of an act of heroism some might find obscene; with how much blood and possible damage it has caused to one mans face, you could understand why such an act would be.

But to you—and those who knew how horrible your ex had been, how he had deserved every bone crunching punch, every spit of blood and teeth choked on—you knew that what Joel did was right. And maybe, somewhere deep down in those morals against violence everyone gets handed out to them at birth, you knew that Joel could be sitting in a jail cell instead of on your couch if those punches had been any worse. If it had been pure untamed rage like some will say.

"You’re a good man, Joel. So you potentially hospitalized an asshole, who hasn’t?" Your heart leaps in your chest when he laughs, and you thank God that your joke landed. Thank him that this man with his disheveled hair that's begging to have a hand run through it, work shirt and jeans looking like they’ve seen better days—is in your life. Not every girl has someone willing to bruise another man's face while destroying the hand that's needed to do their job properly.

No one had acted as quick as Joel had.

Joel Miller was a good man.

"What did you see in him anyway?" Joel asks, taking another sip of his beer. His gaze is drawn to you from the hole he was burning into his hand.

And if you were being honest with yourself, you didn’t know.

Couldn’t answer that question with the full truth because you didn’t know why you always went for the assholes. The guys who liked to scream instead of talk it out. Who liked to steal money from your wallet for booze or a habit they couldn’t kick. The ones who never remembered your birthday but made sure didn't forget theirs.

Your father had been a great man. Your mother an amazing woman. You couldn’t take the easy way out and blame it on family trauma.

So you answered with the only viable reason that came to mind.

"Loneliness makes you ignore all the bad stuff." You take a sip, swallow it down (washing away the pinpricks of potential embarrassment for being so brutally honest with Joel). "It makes you talk yourself out of throwing all their stuff to the curb or burning it in your backyard, because it’s not always bad. Some days are good. Some of them wait to be assholes before the novelty wears off; others wait until you're two years in and they’ve already slept with half the town behind your back. And some will bring you flowers every time they mess up, until one day you look around and realize you don't have any room to put this new vase and there's dried flower petals all over your floors. But hey, at least you’re not lonely, and your house smells really good."

The smile on your lips fades when you see the look on Joel’s face. See that he’s finding no humor in this story. And the gulp that swallows down the beer in your hands burns your throat the entire way down. Your cheeks are burning, and you have to look away from him. Distract yourself by picking at the label on the bottle.

"Or maybe it’s as cliché as saying I haven’t found the right one yet." You try to save, nervously chuckling under your breath. In hopes that he forgets everything you’ve just said and clings to this one shitty joke.

"Look at me."

You do, and you wish you hadn’t. The roughness of his voice makes your stomach swoop and fall like a rollercoaster of emotions you did not prepare yourself for. Hadn’t imagined this being in your future when you’d walked into work. But you’re looking at him. Meeting his eyes. Seeing the stern glower in them before he speaks.

There’s a million things you imagine him saying. Telling you how much better you are than that, than all of those meaningless assholes. How you deserve better, and you’ll find it someday. Hell, you expect him to scold you with how low his brows are.

What you don’t expect is to feel his lips on yours. His fingers digging into the skin at the back of your neck, his chest inches from your now-heaving one. And it renders you speechless. Still. Your brain not computing with the signals your nerves are giving off right now.

When he pulls away and looks at you, it takes you several blinks to meet his gaze. The air in your lungs weighing your chest down. You shouldn’t speak. Should allow yourself to get your bearings in order. To catch your breath and sort through everything you’re feeling right now. "Was that a pity kiss?"

"A what—pity kiss?"

"Cause of the," you swallow, lick your lips, "of the aforementioned assholes?"

Joel’s breath fans across your face when he chuckles, "anyone who’d pity kiss you deserves to be added to that list of assholes. And I might be on many asshole lists, but hopefully not on yours." The fingers on your neck skate forward to your cheek, thumb pressed gently along your jawline. His features grow serious again. "I didn’t just knock that asshole out because he had it comin'. And if you haven't noticed, I’m either working or at home with Sarah. Both keepin' me more than busy."

"Too busy to be making house calls for leaky faucets and tarnishing your good name with your fists?"

"Exactly."

There's a long pause between you two, as if you're both waiting for the other to say something, anything, to put these unspoken mutual feelings out there.

"Joel, are you saying you coming over to fix my faucet and staying for the occasional beer was you…flirting?" The grin he gives you makes you laugh, "who taught you how to flirt? And please don’t say Tommy."

"No. If I had listened to him we’d be–" he doesn’t finish. Just shakes his head and chuckles under his breath.

And maybe affirmative action with your hands wasn’t your forte, maybe you couldn’t do what needed to be done when it came in the form of actions. But when it came to words, to saying what you wanted, needed, craved when it was right here in front of you being hinted and teased at, you didn’t hesitate.

"Maybe you should have listened to Tommy." Your hand mirrors his own, resting on his cheek. You already knew he ran hot from his palm alone. But his cheek feels just as warm as you do, burning right through to your bones. His gaze falls to your parted lips, and a decision is made in the seconds it takes him to return his gaze to yours.

An agreement.

"C'mere." His lips collide with yours in a heated kiss of nicks of teeth and tongue that taste like whiskey and beer and something that your brain will forever recognize as Joel. A taste you know you’ll be wanting to swallow down again and again. To feel the burn of his beard against your chin until your skin is raw and blotchy from how hard his mouth is devouring yours. An arm wrapped around your waist pulls you into his lap, and your forgotten beers spill and stain the cushions of your couch. "Shit, sorry, let me," Joel starts, but you stop him with your hands on his cheeks.

"Leave it, just come here." You insist, lips returning to his.

"Yes, ma’am." His smirk molds to your mouth, wipes away as his tongue runs along your bottom lip to press against yours. A hand on your ass squeezes and presses you forward so you’re grinding against his lap. The seam of your jeans rubs up against the wet patch that's quickly forming on the fabric of your underwear, becoming sticky and clinging to your pussy. Joel's other hand runs down the column of your neck, gripping and pulling you away from his mouth so that his lips can latch onto your sensitive skin. A gasp leaving your lungs, teeth and tongue making you shudder and cling to his shoulders.

Shoulders you don't let go of until your back hits the mattress and you're both pulling your shirts above your heads, your fingers quickly working the clip of your bra, joining the discarded pile of shirts and shoes on your bedroom floor.

Your heart feels as if it’s beating a hole through your chest, like it’ll fall into Joel’s hands as he leans over your body, knees between your open legs, as his palms run down your chest, between your breasts. Over the globes of them, calloused thumb circling around your nipple. Your breath caught in your throat as you press yourself up into his touch. He’s taking you in, letting his eyes trail every dip, possible mole, scar, and marking on your skin. How your chest heaves in response to his hand. How your breasts fit in his palm. How you gasp and cry into the air when he leans down and swirls his tongue around one of your nipples before sucking it into his mouth, teeth lightly scraping against the sensitive flesh when he pulls off and does the same to the other one.

His mouth finding its way back to yours again. His hips canting against yours; you can feel his cock digging into your thigh. And when you let your hand skate between the two of you to give him more friction. A dizzying desire to feel more of his heat and need for you burning through your skin and to your core, where you truly crave him.

The deep grunt that falls from his mouth and onto your waiting tongue sends a shockwave of arousal through your entire body. Being. You want to hear it again, want to pull every noise from this man with your body and mouth until you are both drained and cursing yourselves for not doing this sooner. And you know he wants to do the same. Wants to catalog every pressure point and sensitive bit of your flesh so he can draw this out, can rile you up with a simple touch, scrape of teeth, run of his tongue along your jugular. Until you tell him how badly you can’t stand not having him inside of you.

He's leaving a trail of kisses down your stomach, his fingers digging into the skin above your jeans, holding your hips still. Preventing you from moving them the way you want to from each press and prickle from his mouth and beard—scalding the nerves of your skin and making your insides whirl.

"Lift your hips for me, sweetheart." Joel murmurs into your skin as his fingers curl into the waistband of your jeans. Your body feels barren and cool away from his heat as he sits back on his knees, your hips lifting as he frees your legs from their confines. His thumb runs along the lace of your underwear, dipping lower and lower until it’s pressing into that wet spot. A silent, smug praise tugs at the corner of his lopsided smile as his eyes look up to yours.

If your mind was working coherently and not filled with Joel Joel Joel (the way he smells woodsy and rugged, the way something deep and gruff reverberates in his chest when your teeth sink into the skin of his neck, and how he keeps looking at you like a fine art piece hung in the Louvre. Movements quick and gentle as he pulls your underwear down your thighs, making quick work to push your legs apart, fingers digging into the back of your thigh as he lets himself take his time adorning you fully on display for him) there'd be a sassy remark aimed at him.

The callus of his thumb nicks your swollen clit, eliciting a whimper from your lips, your hips following the descent of his finger as it spreads you apart. Trailing a line from your clit to dip into your entrance, gathering your arousal on the pad of his finger, his eyes on yours as he presses it against his tongue. A burning hunger in his eyes as he sucks your wetness from his fingers.

You're a panting mess by the time Joel positions his head between your legs, arms wrapped behind your thighs, lips, teeth, and tongue trailing up your inner thigh. Your fingers clench the blanket in anticipation, need, and want. The closer his mouth gets to your center, the more you can feel his hot breath moving in, the potential love bites and marks he’s leaving on your inner thigh—all a certain type of torture you don’t think you’re strong enough to put up with right now.

You lift your head to start begging, to plead with your torturer, but he’s speaking before you can.

"Wanna take my time, sweetheart." His tongue swirls at the joint of your inner thigh. And just as earlier, the words you mean to get out, to speak from the storm cloud of lust in your head, die in the back of your throat when Joel runs the flat of his tongue up the seam of your pussy. The torturous muscle wraps you around his tongue, following the slowest path to your clit, until the tip of his tongue flicks, making a pattern of strokes and licks, until his lips wrap around the swollen nerve, making you feel delirious. Keeps pulling gasps, moans, and pants of pleasure and ecstasy from your parted mouth; head thrown back on pillows; legs trembling around his head from the blazing fire that grows and grows the more he consumes you.

The more his nose nicks your clit when he fucks you with his tongue, the more his fingers dig into your quivering legs to keep you anchored to the bed and his mouth.

It feels like hours with how slowly he goes. Keeps you dangling from the ledge with every stroke and suck. Every soothing indent his fingers are leaving in your thigh. Your skin slicked with sweat, knuckles cramped from its grip in the blanket. When your moans go up in pitch he goes slower in that motion, that spot that has you seeing stars. Then he lets your breath come back to you with slow strokes of his tongue at your entrance, giving attention to the other parts of you that you didn’t think could elicit such erotic noises from your lungs.

Your fingers find their way into those disheveled strands you’ve been waiting a lifetime to thread through. To pull and keep yourself from the feeling of floating away from the intensity of the pleasure. From your orgasm coming closer and closer until you’re panting his name, "Joel, Joel, Joel–fuck," your body shaking, the cries pulled out from this man burning your throat as you finally fall from the ledge and into him; his tongue coated in you, his chin wet with your essence.

Your body sensitive and heavy as you come down, a sweaty heat making you feel sticky. Joel’s fingers seem to bypass every sensitive part though, as his palm caresses the tops of your thighs, your hips, your curves, the side of your breast. Until he’s reached your burning cheeks, mouth pressing the gentlest of kisses to your lips. The kiss was slow and gentle. Your arousal coats your taste buds when his tongue meets yours.

The kiss feeling more intimate than before, more heady. Knocking you right back on that loop you just got off of. That ache and throb he just sedated starting again in your belly, moving to where your thighs are soaked.

"You’re overdressed," you murmur against his lips. Joel kisses you again, your open mouths exchanging a breathy chuckle.

"Do you wanna change that?"

The question holds more than just the surface level of a joke and an answer of "yeah, obviously." There’s a seriousness to it that makes you pull back from his lips and stare up at him. His thumb traces a soothing pattern into the bottom of your chin, his eyes holding an unspoken reassurance that he’s fine with it ending right here. With him just pleasing you, getting to take you apart and reassemble you with tender touches and a torturous mouth.

It can be all about you.

It is all about you.

You deserve nothing less.

His eyes and soft grin speak unspoken.

Your nod is slow and reassuring. Your fingertips copy the motions of his thumb against the patches of skin in his damp beard. "Unless you’d rather help me get the stain out of my couch that you caused."

"I caused?" His brows shoot up.

"It's to be expected when you can't keep your hands off of me," you say before shrieking as he pinches your side. His lips kissing your scowl away—a problem you foresee in the near future.

The kiss lasts for minutes (centuries you wish). Your fingertips never lift from the other's face, moving along jawlines, chins, and cheek bones. His chest comfortably against yours, giving you that heat you missed so dearly. His cock still stiff and hot in his jeans, grinding slowly against your pelvis.

Is this how it’s supposed to feel? When feelings haven't even been discussed yet, but you just know? Already know what each touch, kiss, and caress holds behind it. Telling a wordless story in the way he had wanted to give you pleasure first—to taste—and take his time making you feel everything his mouth could do. Everything he wanted to do to you.

He wasn’t thinking about himself after the fact. Wasn’t rushing to put you in a position that made it all about his pleasure. Giving you little to no space to cool down, regain your bearings, and have that fire slowly relight and become more tantalizing, as he is right now.

You really did date assholes.

Your fingers move to his chest, splaying your palm along his body until you’ve reached where he’s hard and pressing against you. Your fingers curl around the outline of him. Stroking, massaging.

"I want you, Joel." You breathe into his mouth.

He growls against your lips in something akin to frustration and agony. It makes something inside of you sink, overthink that maybe he doesn’t actually want to push it past the points you’ve already reached. Maybe it’s too much, all too soon, for this new territory of your friendship—even if it already seemed a little too late with the couch confessions and his saliva still coating your center.

He must see the thoughts volleying in your head because he’s scolding himself under his breath and shaking his head. A soothing touch placed on your skin. "I feel like I’m some horny teenager again, with how bad I want you." His chuckle soothes your heart, "I don’t have-"

And you can't help but laugh at his waving hand towards his pockets and the sentence he's about to finish.

"Jesus, Joel. Bless anyone who's ever thought you were the ungentlemanly type." Here you were worrying about whether or not he wanted you, the proof being clearer than just his dick against your fingers. While the only thing on his mind was protection.

"Glad I’m amusin’ to you."

Cupping his cheeks, you pull him back to your lips. "All a girl wants is a decent man to make her laugh, not break her heart, and be able to make her come. And so far you’ve done all three." You let your tongue slip between your mouths and run along his bottom lip, "I’m good if you are."

I’m clean.

I take a little pill every day because life is chaotic enough and I don’t want any surprises.

We’re protected.

Now take me already.

The drag of your tongue, the roll of your hips against him, the little whimper you let out when he bites your lip—speaks for you.

It’s all either of you needs to rid Joel of his jeans: hands tangled in belt loops, tugs, pulls, pushing until he’s completely bare in front of you. Your breath hitches when you feel the underside of his cock spreading you and running along your clit slowly and languidly. The heat of him feels nothing compared to your own, the throb and ache of requisite in every roll and drag.

And when neither of you can stand it anymore, when he’s grunting and you’re begging, he leans up on an elbow, hand wrapped around his cock, lining himself up to your entrance. Your breath leaves your lungs, stomach falling falling down to where he’s pushing into you. Stretching you, filling you until there’s no telling where either of you ends or begins. Attached by that intangible string of pleasure and bliss of only being able to feel each other.

"Fuck," Joel groans. Mouth finding your shoulder, breath hot and heavy. His thrusts start leisurely, taking his time in that way you’re learning he loves to do. Loves to compartmentalize up what you need—more, faster, harder. Going off of the moans panted into his neck, nails digging into his back.

There's a hand gripped in the pillow beside your head, another at your breast, his mouth connected to your neck, your jaw, your chin, your lips. His hips slamming against your open thighs, thrusts deep, sharp. His cock hitting places that make your back arch, his name strung together with pleas for more. The slapping of skin and wet squelching of bodily fluids between the two of you making a symphony of lewd delight.

When the hand at your breast hikes up one of your legs, the cry you let out is swallowed by his mouth. The deeper he fucks into you, the more your body shakes, the more you feel him completely consuming you. turning you into someone who will never get enough of this. Of him. Of how good he's making you feel.

"Sound s’pretty," his tongue brushes against the underside of your chin, teeth nipping at the bone. A trail of him brought down to the shell of your ear. Where his heavy breaths and grunts fill you just as his cock does. Fills you to the brink of pain turned satisfying pleasure, as each stroke brings you closer to a precipice he’s already pushed you from. "Can’t believe I held myself back from you."

"Joel."

"I should knock out every asshole who thought to hurt you, t’not love you the way you deserve. Put you first," he slips his hand between your slick bodies, palm hot against your pelvis as his thumb rubs fast tight circles around your clit. His words getting filthier, ragged. Becoming heaving breaths against your ear as he fucks you faster. As his thumb matches the pace, as you grow closer and closer. Led by his words and pushed over by his cock.

"That’s it, sweetheart." He’s encourages as you come. As he fucks you through it, as that white-hot heat makes your body contort against his. Cling and squeeze around him. The string of groans and curses, your name mixed with something incoherent but soft and deep, makes your chest swish—bit into your skin as Joel comes not long after.

And after the two of you have cleaned up enough to call it satisfactory, two new beers condensing on your night stand. Your cheek pressed into his chest as your bodies lay pressed together under your sheet. His chin resting atop your forehead, a soft brush of fingertips at your spine—there’s cheesy grins on your faces, "Tommy’s going to have a heyday."

"He owes me fifty bucks."

There’s faux shock on your face when you turn and lean on your elbow to look at him, "excuse me?"

"He didn't think I'd ever tell ya," Joel shrugs as his hand caresses your shoulder. A fondness in his eyes, "I never do anything for myself." You press a kiss to his thumb, "I think we both deserve something good for once though."

"I guess I solved the mystery of how to get Joel Miller to be soft," you joke. Nip at the skin of his thumb playfully.

"I ain’t soft." He grumbles.

"Postcoitous Joel disagrees with that statement," you say. The dramatic roll his eyes do makes you laugh. Your teeth nipping his thumb harder, a bite this time, you shift so you’re on top of him. Sitting up on your knees. "Since this bet is half at my expense.."

"Expense, huh?" His palm grabs a handful of your ass and squeezes, causing you to rock in his lap. His cock already twitching to life again.

"I think we should get you your money's worth," you smirk.

"That's the smartest thing you've said all night," his fingers tangled in your back hair, pulling your mouth down to his in a hard kiss, before you get the chance to at least pretend to be offended.

#joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller one shot #joel miller x y/n #joel miller imagine #joel miller x you #pedro pascal smut #joel miller fluff #the last of us smut #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfic #the last of us fic #pedro pascal fics #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction

5K notes · View notes

planeteroticaaa · 3 months

Text

— ALL MINE

(part of erotica’s & lovae’s valentines special💋)

ice hockeyplayer!jean who walked around the campus with the many gifts and trinkets various girls gave him, each one wishing him good luck for the big game today. he didn’t care about the chocolates, teddy bears, or the other stupid shit they gave him. hell, he didn’t even bother reading the love letters. none of it meant anything to him when he had to figure out an over the top way to make you his valentines because not only were you his soulmate and the one he’s supposed to grow old with, but he needed to win you back.

he walked past your lecture hall like he did everyday on his way to his own, thinking about how he used to be late to his own class trying to walk you to yours. it never mattered to him seeing as he always made up for it by participating in class and getting high grades on assignments. he didn’t know why he still poked his head inside the room to see if you were there. he tells himself and his friends that it’s to make sure you “got to class safely”, but in reality, he knows nothing’s gonna happen to you in the 5 to 6 minute walk from the dining hall to your lecture. truth be told, he really just wanted to see you. since the two of you broke up, you avoided him like the plague, but he knew you would have no choice but to see him when he’d visit the room you were in daily, using the fact that one of his teammates was in the same class as you.

though today was different because right when he was about to go into the room, he watched that very teammate ask you out with flowers and chocolates. he glared, scoffing watching you act all “excited” about candies you hated and flowers that weren’t even your favorite. it took everything in him to stop himself from going in there and breaking his jaw when you kissed his cheek and hugged him with your arms around his neck and his on your waist. how would you feel watching him kiss a girl after reading her love declaration?! it was even worse knowing he would have to play with him later today. the whole team knew he was still obsessed with you, especially this guy since he always teased jean about it so what fuck was he doing asking you out?

he thought about it the entire day. he knew that many guys were interested in you, but he didn’t think somebody would actually be bold enough to do something about their feelings. he had on his gear, ready for the final game of the season. his coach’s words of motivation went in one ear and out the other as he stared down his smug ass teammate. as everyone started to hype themselves up with different handshakes and chants, jean remained quiet, even bumping his shoulder going past him. his final straw was seeing you cheering at the game, just, not for him. you screamed that asshole’s name, your friends alongside you all happy about your possible new relationship and when he winked at you, jean tackled him onto the ice.

he knew he was in a world of trouble now once he got on top of him. he grabbed the collar of his shirt and began punching him, not stopping when the guy managed to get situated and got a few hits in, or when the security rushed over, or when he heard his coach yelling at him from the side. he had slight bruising on his cheek, his lip was bleeding, his knuckles were scratched up when he threw his gloves off, and he was being penalized and cussed out by his coach, but it was worth seeing you stare at him with your mouth gaped open. your more confused than pissed face said, “did you seriously just do that?” and the wink he gave you with the smirk on his lips while his coach spat in his face said, “yeah, and i’d do it a thousand times over.”

he wasn’t shocked when you went home right after the incident. he was hoping to talk to you once the game was over, but it worked out since it gave him time to buy the snacks and sweets you actually liked, flowers that were actually your favorite, and prepare his “i’m sorry, please take me back” speech. he originally wanted to do something crazy to show his never ending love, but it was clear after today he had no time to waste. with a done up basket, pretty flowers, and a speech he recited under his breath on the way to the door, he was ready though when he knocked on your front door and you opened it wearing his spare jersey he thought he lost with nothing visibly under it, arms crossed over your chest and leaning against the door frame with a disapproving look on your face, everything he planned to say left him at that very second. “well?” you asked with an eyebrow raised. “gimme another chance?” he asked, an unsure grin on his pretty, bandaged face. you looked him up and down and just sighed before grabbing him by his shirt collar and dragging him inside the room.

“s-shit baby…you’re squeezing me so tight,” he groaned, his head thrown back on your pillow, big, veiny hands on your hips as you bounced yourself on his cock with your hands back behind you on his strong thighs. you almost forgot how big and girthy his dick was, the stretch burning you when you first sat down on it after months of nothing and guys that were no match to him. “look so beautiful riding me like that,” he said mostly to himself, staring up at you with lust blown pupils, taking in the blissful expressions you made and the softness of your breast as he massaged them under the jersey.

fuck, it felt amazing, the veins running along his length grazing your walls, the curve ensuring the fat tip hit you right where you needed it, the thickness of it giving you that same delicious burn from before that had your legs about to give out, the ring of white cream you made at the base of his cock dripping down his balls, ass sticking to his pelvis from your mixed, gluey essences. you were getting tired and he could tell you were with how you occasionally didn’t bounce, but instead rocked your hips with your nails digging into his skin and biting down on your bottom lip.

he watched you, wondering when you’d quit being stubborn and admit you need help as he moved his hands all over your body, pinching your nipples, gripping your waist, harshly slapping your ass. he hadn’t had you like this in months, dick inside your tight walls making a mess all over him and whatever surface was beneath you. how long had it been since you fucked somebody? he hadn’t done anything to any woman since you’d broken up, even going as far to tell them that he was still with you. well, it didn’t matter, he could tell from the whimpers and whines that left your lips as your desperately rode him to continue that sensation of his cock bruising your cervix that if anybody fucked you, it wasn’t like this.

it was when your pace significantly slowed down that he sighed and pulled you down to him. your arms immediately wrapped around his neck like you were waiting for him to do this as he propped his feet into the bed sheets. with his hands on your ass, spreading it apart, he started to thrust up into your pussy. you screamed, eyes rolling back as his fat cock dragged in and out of you, balls slapping against you from the fast, rough change in pace. you could tell much he missed you from the way he hugged you close to him while making you cream in his cock. “yes! j-jean—yes, just like that, don’t stop!” you cried out, drool dripping down your chin as he fucked you further through your orgasm, overstimulating your pussy when he reached a hand down to rub harsh circles on your puffy, throbbing clit.

“missed you so much, baby,” jean grunted, the speed of his thrust into your pussy not letting up. “i—i missed you too! missed you so much,” you cried, moving your head from its spot in the crook of your neck to look him in his light brown eyes. your lips soon met his, tongue hastily pushing inside his mouth and swirling along his after such a long time without one another. everything was messy, saliva coating both of your chins, the liquids from your previous orgasms painting the bedsheets and allowing him to better fuck up into you with ease, the thin layer of sweat that covered your bodies sticking the two of you together.

“please, please, please fill me up,” you babbled incoherently, begging when you felt his cock start twitching inside your tight, gummy walls. his thrust became rougher, the broken, but rough and intense rhythm of his mushroom tip hitting everywhere you needed it too taking you to the brink of another orgasm. “imma fill your pretty pussy with my cum…she’s missed me so much, hasn’t she?” “yes! s-so much!” you gasped, eyes in the back of your head and body jerking as you started creaming all over him again. “i’m cumming! ‘m cumming, ‘m cumming, fuckkk!” you practically sobbed, pussy gushing. your walls spasmed around his cock, making him pump your insides with his hot, thick, ropes of cum.

you felt it leak out of your abused hole as he continued to fuck and overstimulating the two of you through your orgasms to the point you were crying and he was biting down on your shoulder with his eyes rolled back. you continued to fill the room with the most filthy noises, the sweet squelching sound from you pussy echoing and the slapping of your skin on his being all that you could hear once he had you seeing stars because he didn’t stop, even when he was about to cry from the overwhelming feeling himself. he was just too scared to lose you again.

519 notes · View notes

swordcreature · 5 months

Text

Dammon, Rolan, & Zevlor - Drunken Sex

As always, below the cut is NSFW. MDNI/18+

How these drunken tiefling boys take you to bed

Dammon:

Dammon is very timid in his daily life; he’s self-assured, yeah, but just a rather calm guy. And I see that bleed into his bedroom life a bit too. Like, he’s not super fond of PDA and tends to be fairly romantic during sex, even when doing something really dirty.

But when he’s drunk? HOO BOY.

He won’t care about who’s around, where you are, what you were previously doing. When he’s drunk and horny there is only one thing on his mind.

And that’s getting his hands on you.

He rarely gets to that level of drunkenness ever and luckily it’s usually at a party or a bar where everyone else is equally as shitfaced.

Lucky because he’s grabbing fistfuls of your ass, grinding his hardened cock against your thigh, sticking his tongue in your ear.

Part of him gets off on whispering filthy nothings just to make you turn red. No one really even notices you two, but you have some decorum, thank you.

But it’s hard to keep a straight head when he uses that really deep purring sort of voice right in your ear.

“Gods, you’d look so good on my cock right now”, “Can’t wait to spread you open for me”, “I bet you’re already so nice and wet you’d take all of me right now, love”

A lot of Dammon’s drunken sex revolves around the buildup.

Even though he’s the one practically trying to put his hands down your pants in public, he wants you to be the one so worked up that you can’t help but pull him out the door.

Weirdly enough, he still isn’t too into kissing in public. Anything above a peck or light smooch he doesn't super care for, even drunk.

But then he gets you behind closed doors? All bets are off at this point because he can’t keep his mouth off of you. It’s sloppy and wet and really hot because it’s very different than him normally.

I see Dammon’s oral fixation becoming so so so much worse while drunk. Not just in a giving way either. He wants you to ride his face but also suck him off at the same time.

He wants to feel every filthy moan of yours around his cock before you swallow his load.

Don’t worry though, he’s miraculously not affected by whiskey dick in the least. He’ll be ready for another round after a couple minutes of more dirty talk.

Rolan:

Rolan strikes me as the kind of guy that is either a bitchy drunk or a flirty drunk (absolutely no in between) but it depends on so many things. Who’s around, what he’s drinking, the mood he’s in, where he’s at, etc.

Bitchy Drunk Rolan (BDR) will pick a fight with you over EVERYTHING. LITTLE. THING. Like you could say the sky is blue and this snarky little asshole is going to argue that it’s actually azure.

But! I’ll let you in on a little secret. That’s his foreplay. *wink wink wink*

Every little frustrated groan you make, every time you raise your lip in a sneer at his antics, it all makes him so hard it hurts. He’ll never admit to it sober though.

BDR wants to push your buttons until you’re about done with him, and then just when you’re about to leave...

He’s pushing you someplace quiet and kissing you so hard it hurts. I’m talking teeth clacking, tongue down your throat, growling kind of kissing.

He’s the kind of drunk that never makes it back to a bed. He’s fucking you over whatever he possibly can, not even taking off his robes, just slipping his cock out so he can be inside you as fast as possible.

BDR isn’t much of a talker during the act itself, he’s more prone to groaning and huffing while he snaps his hips into you

But he always has some smug little quip afterwards that makes you roll your eyes

Flirty Drunk Rolan is a whole other story.

His smart mouth is aimed at you instead of against you. He’d have you tucked away in a corner where he can have all of your attention so that he can see what makes you blush, what makes you fumble your words.

The whole “don’t be greedy” line comes to mind. He’s playful, basically. Because he’s much more comfortable.

When he has you alone, he’s slower than BDR, taking a bit of time to get you naked, work you up. Make sure you’re about as wet as possible just from the anticipation.

He still doesn’t find a bed in time. But instead of bending you over something, he fucks you on something.

Lifts you on his desk, holds you against a bookcase. He wants to face you during and see the mess he’s made of you.

Both types of drunk Rolan are whiners though. Right before they cum. That’ll never change.

Zevlor:

Zevlor is a quiet drunk, you cannot convince me otherwise.

His time as a Hellrider has made sure that even after drinking heavily, he always has his wits about him.

That being said I see him as having one weakness that leaves him a little distracted.

Surprise (not really) it’s you.

He’s the kind of drunk that will watch you intently wherever you are. He’ll try to explain it away as watching over you, but let’s be real, okay.

I think he would be the kind of drunk to actually enjoy being on the sidelines watching you enjoy yourself – I mean that was basically him the at camp party.

He’s like this sober too, but when he’s had a few drinks, you notice the way his trousers fit just a bit tighter in the front, especially after you’re done dancing.

Zevlor is definitely not the type of guy for PDA even while drunk. Part of it is that he’s a gentleman and doesn’t want to impose on your dignity like that.

But a small part is also because he wants to save every little piece of you for himself. No one else gets the pleasure of seeing you like that. Just him.

When you’re alone, he waits until you’re in the bedroom before starting anything.

Normally, he’d be a little bashful: kissing you softly to try and initiate sex. But like this he gets right to things.

Pulls you into him, leans down into a firm kiss. He has a quiet sort of confidence about him.

Don’t get me wrong, he is still 110% sweet and romantic, but like. He doesn’t doubt himself at all like this. He doesn’t look up at you with those questioning eyes that say “Is this okay? Do you feel good?”

No, now he gazes at you just so he can hungrily watch you come apart knowing that he was the cause.

Instead of his normal method of fucking you while holding you close, he kneels while he thrusts into you. He pounds into you, slow and steady, hands on your hips to pull you towards him.

He likes being able to see all of you. How you bounce with every snap of his hips, how your face contorts in pleasure, how you take his entire cock so well.

And after you still get pulled to him for cuddling and pillow talk, just like sober Zevlor would do

#bg3 #bg3 dammon #my writing #bg3 smut #dammon #bg3 zevlor #bg3 rolan #rolan #zevlor #rolan x reader #zevlor x reader #dammon x reader #HCs

831 notes · View notes

babamiasworld · 11 months

Text

Are you sick of me yet?

Hyrule!Link x GN!Reader ✭

Synopsis: Link refuses to leave you alone after you lose to him

Content Warnings: cocky link, possessiveness if you squint, light cussing, a lil kithy kith, and uhhhh jealous zelda if that’s how u wanna see it 🧍

A/N: jesus link brain rot is getting to me rn, and i got the new loz themed nintendo switch cause i’m OBSESSED- pls it’s so pretty🥰

Word count 1 .4k

To everybody, Link was a man of few words, and to most, he was intense. Never speaking much, and when he did, his words were blunt, curt, and devoid of vulnerability. He didn’t care what others thought of him, only that he got paid fairly for his work. Though there was a side of him that he didn’t show all that much, a side of him that only reared it’s head depending on the situation. He wasn’t secretly a softie or anything, no no, he was worse.

“That was a tough loss.” Link said while inhaling through his teeth, mocking something close to sympathy. You had just finished a racing competition, which wasn’t something you usually engaged in, simply because you were one to get really competitive and you were a sore loser, but you’d never show it, nor ever confirm it out loud, but you were. it was a fact you couldn’t deny. So you ignored Link’s comment, simply ignoring him as you made your way to your steed, walking a bit faster in hopes Link wouldn’t catch up, because if you were being honest, if you had to look at the grin on his face…you’d probably punch it. Though Link wasn’t having it, taking your silence as a challenge.

You sharply turned a corner in hopes he’d just give up his attempts to get you to lash out at him. Moments from the race replaying in your mind, pissing you off more. The reason he was so amused by your loss is because you’re known to be one of the most talented racers in the kingdom, and you had come second, and Link of course, was in first. He wasn’t going to let you live this down that much is for sure, not unless you were able to rub his ego into the mud…and then stomp on it multiple times…then maybe setting it on fire. If it was possible, you’d consider traveling across Hyrule to throw it into a volcano.

Lost in your thoughts, with your eyes fixated on the cobblestone path beneath you, you didn’t see the encroaching obstacle in front of you until you collided with it. Looking up at a very unpleasant face. Link didn’t say a word, just staring down at you with that stupid smug face, as if you were smaller than him. Physically yes. But in every other aspect absolutely not, but as much as you hated it, you couldn’t help but feel heat rising to your cheeks at the proximity between the two of you. You stepped to the side to leave him behind yet again, though he mirrored your actions holding his expression.

“Can I help you, asshole?” You spat, sounding like more of a demand rather than a question. But much to your displeasure, your comment only inflated his ego as he tilts his head playfully at you.

“Aw don’t be like that.” He teases, causing your scowl to intensify.

“Shut up. Don’t act like you’re not enjoying this.” You retort. Pushing past him.

“You know me well~” He chuckles. The sound making your stomach flutter.

“Piss off.” Eyes focused on the stable that your Loftwing resides in, sleeping peacefully.

“No. I don’t think I will~” He taunts. Unbeknownst to you, he picks up his pace, inching his face closer to yours, whispering into your ear. “I know you like it when I tease you.” Emitting a sharp gasp from you, whipping your head at him with a look of disbelief, holing a hand over your ear.

“No I don’t!” You retort, a little more enthusiastically than you intended, mentally cursing yourself as you see Link puffing out his chest; and by your red cheeks, it only confirms his statement.

“Yeah?” His tone was quiet, as if you’d both get in trouble if he was heard. But as he starts moving towards you, absent-mindedly stepping back as he did, until your back hits the cold stone wall, only then do you realize it’s just you that’s in trouble. “Then why are you so flustered then?” Asking a question he already knows the answer to.

“I’m not.” You stare at him through your eyelashes, trying to intimidate him, though you know it won’t work. This causes Link to tilt his head once more, but his expression is different this time. He’s looking at you like he wants something…needs something. You immediately pick up on this; his hungry gaze, half-lidded eyes analyzing every inch of your face causing your heart to beat rapidly.

You turn your head away from him to hide your red face. But Link wasn’t having it. He wanted you to squirm under him his gaze, lifting a hand to your chin and tilting it up so you’d look at him. He was surprisingly gentle with his movements, slowly pulling your chin upwards towards him but stopping before your lips could touch. The proximity of your faces causing your eyes to flicker to his lips, only for a moment before meeting his eyes again. Though this didn’t go unnoticed by the man in front of you, causing him to look down at you with a seductive glint in his eyes.

“See something you like?” Link teases, adoring how red you’ve gotten. He moves closer, lips ghosting over each other for a few seconds before you can’t take it anymore and finally kiss him, a hand snaking up his neck; fingers lacing between his soft blonde locks while your other hand lays against his ribcage for support. Your boldness causing Link to chuckle into the kiss, sending heat through your body like shockwaves which only intensifies when his hands find their place on your hips, using them as an anchor to push his body against yours, chests pressed against each other.

He pushes his tongue into your mouth, his hand dragging up your body as it settles on your jaw, pulling you even closer. His kiss is heated, rough, and possessive, as if this was his way of claiming you as his, and deep down, you didn’t mind as much as you said you did, indulging yourself in him. Both of you were growing desperate, frantic even, as if you’ll die if you separate, but sadly breathing is a necessity.

You break the kiss to breathe, but before you can even take a full breath, Links lips find yours again, groaning into your mouth.

“Ahem!” A distant voice echoed. Causing you both to freeze, Link pulling away from your lips to turn his head towards the voice, a trail of saliva connecting the two of you. As Link moved his head, you were mortified to see Zelda standing a few meters away with her arms crossed over her chest, looking at you two clearly unimpressed with what she walked in on. “Link, my father wants to speak with you. He insists you meet with him as soon as…” She trails off, eyes flickering to you for a moment, then back to link. “…you’re done with your little rendezvous.” Zelda finished, turning on her heel and taking her leave.

Link looks back at you with a that same stupid smirk, and your just absolutely traumatized that the princess caught you making out with her knight, but Link has a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Wanna keep goin?” Link said with optimism. Which pissed you off considering you’re probably not the princess’ favorite person after that; the thought far from pleasant as you pushed him away and stormed off.

“Argh- you’re so stupid! Don’t ever pull that again.” A frustrated hand running through your hair, trying to find something to help you forget about the whole ordeal.

This causes Link to let out a low chuckle, watching the way your hips sway as you fade into the distance.

“That’s what you said last time.”

#botw link x reader #link x reader #loz x reader #legend of zelda #legend of zelda x reader #hyrule linked universe #skyward sword link x reader #botw x reader #botw link

2K notes · View notes

decembermidnight · 3 months

Text

Bad Attitude

Summary: While on patrol duty, you chase a suspect starship but end up crashing on a freezing planet. Its pilot, a Mandalorian, rescues you, but he doesn't like your attitude towards him and makes sure you understand who is in charge.

Pairing: Din Djarin x f!reader

Word count: 6.1k

Warnings: smut, 18+ mdni, teasing, dom!din, brat!reader, brat tamer!din, Din is really an asshole here lol, improper use of the darksaber, lots of dirty talk, oral (m receiving), breath play, choking, fingering, unprotected sex, exhibitionism, degradation kink, praise kink, creampie

A/N: Loosely based on The Passenger episode and super canon divergent. I just had fun having nasty thoughts! Reblogs and comments are always welcome!! Hope you enjoy it!

Divider: @saradika-graphics

Masterlist - Read on Ao3

You… You really did have to follow that ship on this forsaken planet, didn't you?

You couldn't just listen to your partner Carson for once when he warned you to let it go.

Chasing that Razor Crest despite the bad weather on Maldo Kreis was not the smartest idea. Not smart at all, in fact.

You were only supposed to ask the pilot why his ship was in the proximity of that prison, Bothan-5, when that officer was killed, but he ran away as soon as he heard that name. You immediately started recklessly chasing that old piece of junk in the hostile atmosphere of this awful, unwelcoming planet, and next thing you know your Starfighter crashed, compromising the integrity of the hatch, you’re cut off from your partner and you’ll likely freeze to death before he can come rescue you. Could it get any worse?

It turns out it can.

Just when you switch the radio off, resigned to accept the unavoidable fate, your eyes seem to catch something dark in the snowstorm. At first you assume it’s just your mind playing tricks on you, but when you take a better look, you see it - there’s a dark figure approaching your ship. It must be him - the Razor Crest pilot. As he gets closer, you notice he’s wearing armour, a Mandalorian armour, and you’ve heard the stories about those deadly warriors. You probably made him angry with your insistent pursuit and now he might be killing you so as not to leave witnesses.

You are so fucked. This is the worst day of your life, and also the last.

He lifts the damaged hatch of your ship and looks at you, exposing you to the freezing air of the blizzard. You stare back at him - his broad figure completely towers over yours, but you try not to look intimidated by him.

"Razor Crest, is that you?" you say in a secure tone, wanting to appear tough.

"Yeah." the modulated voice answers as you feel his dark visor lingering on your figure.

"Came here to finish the job?" you try to sneakily grab your blaster in a desperate attempt to defend your life, determined not to die without fighting, or at least, not without trying.

"Not if you don't try anything stupid like that. Put it down." says in an authoritative tone, his right hand instinctively goes on the holster of his blaster. You quickly realise this is not the moment for heroism if you want to survive.

"Don't give me orders. I'm a New Republic officer." you reply firmly.

He scoffs and shakes his head in disdain.

"Dear officer, take a good look around. This frozen tomb doesn't look like New Republic territory to me." he goads you "Now quit it and let's go to my ship."

"Who says I want to come with you?"

"Come on, I’m freezing my ass off, for fuck’s sake." he loses no time in ripping your seatbelt and life support system off your body before grabbing you and carrying you over on his shoulder.

"Put me down! You're so rude!" you protest and try to kick him, but he blocks your legs in the tight grasp of his free arm, immobilising you.

"So far I've been more kind than you deserve. If you keep acting like that, I'll show you how rude I can be." his grip is firm and strong as he gives a warning squeeze to your thigh.

You do not want to admit it, but you feel a thrill of excitement at that - he doesn’t care about the fact that you're a law enforcer, he’s treating you like the scum he’s used to. He probably wants to trade your life for his freedom with Carson later - you’re his hostage now.

When you reach his ship, he finally puts you down. You take off your helmet and look at the Mandalorian that so unceremoniously saved you from certain death earlier.

You realise how much taller than you he is, his armour making him even broader than what he already is. Your eyes can't help lingering on his body in wonder at how strong he must be, how the shiny beskar perfectly completes his thick masculine figure, only adding to his already imposing stance, perfectly concealing his body, making him massive and statuesque. His suit is tight around the arms, you can see the outline of his thick, strong biceps. If only he wasn’t a criminal, if only you weren’t a New Republic officer, if only he wasn’t a complete cunt…

"You done?" a low, baritonal voice interrupts your dirty thoughts.

"Excuse me?" you raise a brow.

"I asked if you're done checking me out."

“What?! I wasn’t-” you lie and you both know it. You do not feel so cold anymore, your cheeks feel hot all of a sudden.

“Yeah. Sure.” the asshole teases as he rests against the wall of his ship, looking at you with crossed arms.

“You hurt?” he then asks.

“No, I’m fine.”

"Good. Let's go up to the cockpit, then. It's warmer up there."

He climbs up the ladder and when the door closes behind him, you take a deep breath, trying to collect yourself, and follow him.

When you get in the small room, you find him sitting in the pilot chair facing the windshield with crossed arms and legs spread wide. You settle on his side, standing with crossed arms and gaze fixed on his body. He’s as still and silent as a statue, unreadable under that helmet - is he really relaxed as he wants you to think, or is he carefully studying you?

"Don't look at me that way." says without moving a muscle.

"How?"

"Same way you've been looking at me since we got on the ship."

"What are you implying?"

"Don't act like you don't know." he turns towards you and stands up, making you imperceptibly startle. He looks imposing and menacing, his helmet slightly tilted observing you.

"You don't trust me one bit, do you?" he scoffs and shakes his head.

"You assaulted that prison and killed that poor man. He was a New Republic officer, just like me. Why should I trust you?”

“Because I didn’t do it.”

“Why should I believe you?”

“What will you do when you find out I was right all along?” the way he doesn’t lose his cool is fascinating, to a degree.

"You’re not. If you were innocent, you wouldn’t have run away and we wouldn't be here now."

He tilts his helmet to the side once again as he looks at you. His gaze and his confidence make you feel hot and uncomfortable at the same time - you wouldn’t want to give out the undeniable way his stoic charm is affecting you, but you hate the way he's been treating you.

"Yeah, we wouldn't be here." he lets out in an allusive tone as he walks one single step forward while you take one back, ending up against the wall. He's so damn tall and broad and… and you're getting so wet.

You look into his dark visor, feeling his gaze lingering on your body. You can feel the tension, the atmosphere in the cockpit becoming unbearable. It's getting hard to breathe, heat radiating from both of your bodies as you never stop looking at each other. While his sight is unreadable, yours is unmistakably libidinous, your heart pounding in your chest and your pussy throbbing with need, but you're both too proud to surrender first.

"I guess not. You coward." you let out in a far too flirtatious way as you look at him with shameless lust.

"What did you just call me?!" he rasps, sounding so provocative.

"Coward. That's what you are. Running away from me when I was chasing you and taking me hostage when I was so vulnerable.”

“Shut up.”

“So big and tough in your shiny armour, but you run away as soon as you see a New Republic patrol. I should have just shot you when I had the chance. At least I wouldn’t be sharing this ship with a coward.”

“I said shut up.”

“What now, Mandalorian? What do you plan to do now that you've kidnapped me? Are you gonna prove me wrong?" you’re wondering if you got too far when he gets dangerously close to you, his menacing figure towering over yours as he grips a handful of your hair, forcing your gaze into his dark visor.

"Do I have to stick my cock in your mouth to make you shut up?"

A flame of lust instantly traverses your body. You feel your blood boiling, making you feel hot and flustered, reason and common sense leaving you at the mercy of a primal, carnal instinct.

"I bet you don't have the balls to do it." you goad him with a smirk on your face.

Oh, you shouldn't have said that, yet you did, and what's worse is that you don't regret it.

You look at him with shameless desire clouding your eyes, internally cursing at the helmet that can't and won't let you see his reaction to your provocation, waiting for his next move.

You keep your lustful gaze locked on his visor as his hand swiftly unfastens his belt and the zip of his pants. His grip on your hair tightens even more as he pushes you on your knees, immediately sticking his hard, thick cock in your mouth and fuck, the sound he makes. It's worth crashing on a desolated planet and being scolded afterwards. It's guttural and desperate, astonished at how good your poisonous mouth feels when you take him in and your tongue gently swirls around his tip, instead of spitting mean words at him. You keep eye contact as you let the shaft slide in your mouth and coat it generously in your saliva, his head tilted back as he lets out breathy sighs of pleasure.

"You. You need to learn how to fucking behave. Shut up when I tell you to. You have to stop taunting me. Fuck. Is this what you wanted?"

He takes your head away from his cock to let you answer.

“You’re not as much of a coward as I thought you were.” you tease.

“You are still talking?!” exclaims as he pushes your head towards his cock once again, staying still as he uses your mouth for his pleasure, violently forcing all of his length down your throat. When he rips you away from it, you gasp for breath.

"You look so good like this. On your knees, choking on my cock, finally shutting the fuck up like a good girl." he growls, pleased.

Just as you want more of it, your mouth going towards it once again, his grip on your hair turns to steel and stops you there. You look up to him from your kneeled position and see him shaking his head.

“Why? Are you close already?” you taunt him as he tucks his cock back in his pants.

"Oh, it will take you way more than that to make me come, officer." says as he makes you stand up.

“Bet you want me to prove you wrong so badly. Bet you want to come in my m-” you stop mid sentence as he starts to unzip your flight suit while he pushes you towards the control panel of his ship, making you sit on it and trapping you there with his beskar body, your legs instinctively spread open for him to fit between them.

“Yeah? Go on. What were you saying?” he goads you as his hand slips inside of the thin pants you're wearing under the suit, teasing your clit from outside your underwear.

“I-I was s-saying that - that-” you gasp when his hand finds its way into your panties and reaches your slit.

"Ooh, what do we have here?" exclaims in taunting wonder. His beskar helmet is only a few centimetres distant from your face "Acting all cocky and arrogant before, but damn, feel how wet you are. Bet no one ever made you this wet, officer. Stars, you're dripping for me. All of this just from sucking my cock?" says in a husky voice as two of his thick, gloved fingers slide inside of you.

You grit your teeth in a desperate attempt to hide the way this is making you feel, not wanting to give him satisfaction, but your body is slowly surrendering to him and betraying you, your cunt involuntarily clamping around his fingers, revealing how his words are, in fact, effective on you.

"Oh, I bet you feel so good and you sound so sweet when you moan for me. Feel how hot and tight you are." he keeps teasing you.

Resisting him is getting near impossible. By now he knows how badly you want it.

"Listen to what we’re gonna do now. You're gonna come on my fingers like a good girl and then I'll fuck you until your partner comes to rescue you."

You can't help it anymore and let out a moan at how sensual his voice sounds as he says those things to you, at the thought of getting fucked by him, all while his fingers keep sliding inside and outside of you, making your cunt spasm around them.

"Oh, I knew it. Damn, such a sweet girl." he rasps as he takes his fingers out.

"What the fuck?!" you snap at him when he does, making him chuckle at your reaction.

"Hey, calm down officer." he teases your lips with his gloved fingers soaked in your arousal.

You instinctively suck the leather and taste yourself on his fingers, licking them sensually as you look at him in the visor. He hums in pleasure seeing that and goes on playing with your mouth, entranced by the way your tongue swirls around them, until he takes them out and presses his middle finger on your bottom lip.

"Bite." he simply orders and you obey, taking the hem of his glove between your teeth to let his hand slip out of the glove. It's huge compared to yours, callous and veiny and masculine. You hum as it starts trailing down your body and feel the warm trail it leaves on the delicate skin of your neck as he caresses it, your own hands holding tight to the commands of the ship, propping you up to offer yourself to his touch. You can feel his eyes looking at your body from behind the dark visor as his hand slips in your flight suit once again, groping your breast from outside your shirt, his thumb playing with one of your hardened nipples, your back arched and chest puffed out to make it look fuller. You moan loudly when he slides his fingers in your panties and back inside of you.

"Stars - so fucking wet. I bet your cunt is so beautiful. Spread your legs for me. You're making me so fucking hard." he keeps up the pace and also starts to rub your clit with his thumb, making the pleasure you’re feeling unable to hide and you surrender to him, panting heavily as your eyes cross and roll in delight.

"Really? Eyes rolling, officer?" he taunts you.

"F-fuck y-you-" you rasp with half closed eyes, your sentence gets interrupted as he hooks his fingers, touching something devastating inside of you, making him scoff when he sees the way you squeeze your eyes shut and arch your back, your mouth wide open to let out obscene moans.

"What? Do you want me to stop?" he provokes you.

"Don't you fucking dare." you manage to let out in a barely audible sigh.

He immediately grabs your neck, not liking the way you undermine his authority.

"Careful now, officer." he growls.

You moan back in response at how much you like this - being put back into place, the Mandlaorian reminding you who is in control. You hold tight to his sides, digging your nails in his flight suit as he just pushes you further against the control panel with his body.

You’re a panting mess and you feel so close, so damn close to your orgasm. You beg he won’t stop as you wrap your legs around him. He feels by the irregular, ragged way you're breathing and the way your muscles go rigid around him that you're close.

"What? Coming already?” he chuckles “I will let you just because I want to fuck you so badly. Now come, my dear officer. Come for me."

You pant straight into his helmet when you hear him calling you like that, fogging it where his mouth would be. His hand pushes you over the edge and you moan loudly as he makes you come around his fingers, your hands holding tight to his neck, bringing him down towards you. Your back arches, chest rubbing against his armour and you roll your head back until it hits the transparisteel of the windshield behind you. Your nails scratch him hard and your legs’ grip becomes even tighter, his upper body now trapped in your grasp.

He grabs your chin with his other hand and forces you to look at him in the visor.

"Yes - yes, yes. Like this. Good girl." he growls between his teeth, looking at you as you struggle to keep your gaze on him, your eyes wanting to roll up in pleasure.

He lets you ride your high, never stopping those astounding moves of his hand, making you feel so satisfied, but so guilty and humiliated at the same time.

As the orgasm gradually fades out, your grip on his body loosens.

He takes out his hand right in front of your eyes and, Maker, it's soaking wet, glistening in your arousal. You’re both embarrassed and aroused when you see how wet and yielding you got for him as soon as he started touching you.

"Damn, officer. How am I going to-"

You don't even let him finish, you've taken his hand in yours and start sucking his fingers. He lets out a satisfied hum when you do that. You clean them thoroughly, sensually massaging his digits with your tongue, humming as you hear him cursing between his teeth in a foreign language.

Once he’s satisfied, he takes them out of your avid mouth.

"Now strip for me, officer. I bet you look so hot under that uniform."

"Forget it." you tease him.

"Too bad you didn't obey me when I asked so nicely."

In an instant his hands start ripping the flight suit off your body as you're kicking out of your boots at the same time. It's rushed, brutal and wild, the both of you completely taken over by lust. His hands linger on your sides, giving you goosebumps and making you sigh when he lifts the thermal shirt off your body and you hold on tight to the panel when he hooks his fingers in the hem of your pants and pulls everything down and away from your body, leaving you completely naked in front of him.

“You look… Good without your uniform on, officer.” he is pleased looking at your naked body. “Wonder if I could say the same about you, Mandalorian.” “You’ll have to use your imagination."

“Are you even a real Mandalorian? Maybe you stole this armour, or maybe you bought it off some Jawas.” you mock him.

"Come here and I’ll show you." he simply says as he sits back on his chair, legs spread wide and a visible bulge in his pants.

Just as you get close to him, he takes out one of his weapons, a strange sword without a blade, and begins to trace your nipple with the hilt. You start to breathe heavily and you can feel your nipple getting harder by the second, your eyes carefully following his movements as he descends ever so slowly, teasing you, trailing your stomach and then your lower belly, stopping right in front of your cunt, driving you crazy, your legs spreading for him, begging for some friction. He softly brushes your lips, carefully avoiding your clit to tease you further, until he finally touches it. The sudden contact of the hilt with your sensitive clit makes you shudder and let out a whimper.

"Don't. Move." he orders as he continues to touch you with that weapon, rubbing it against your clit, producing obscene, wet sounds at the contact. You try to stay as still as you can as he plays with that dangerous weapon so close to your most delicate spot. You beg he'd go faster, you wish you could ride it and come all over it, as pathetic as it sounds, but no, he doesn't want that. He wants to take his time to tease you, getting you nice and wet as he plays with you like you're his toy.

He stands up, towering over you.

"Stick your tongue out."

You immediately do and he starts to trace your mouth with the hilt.

"This is the Darksaber. Whoever wields it can rule all of Mandalore, and you're licking it after I've used it to give you pleasure. Feel how wet you’ve made it. How does that make you feel?"

“Like you should sit down on that chair and take out that cock. Touch yourself while I lick your Darksaber clean, Mandalorian.”

He grunts as you push him back on his chair. He immediately unzips his pants to take his throbbing cock out as you keep licking his weapon clean, pleased at the sight of his erection in his hand.

"Touch yourself for me, Mando" you order him as you trace your tongue on the hilt.

"Enough of that." he grabs you by the hair and pushes you on your knees, forcing you to suck his cock. In a swift movement he grabs the Darksaber with his two hands, using it as leverage to keep your head down, forcing his entire cock into your throat, making you startle at the sudden lack of air.

"You don't get to give me orders." he growls before freeing you from his grasp to let you breathe. You gasp for air and look at him, panting.

Maker, he's so dangerous. He could kill you in one second if he wanted to, and you've never, never been wetter than this, playing this dangerous, twisted game with a deadly warrior.

He gives you a few seconds to breathe and then he's back at it, using his weapon to make you choke on his cock.

"Do you understand? I can do whatever I want to you." he releases you once again. There are tears in the corner of your eyes but that doesn't stop him from doing that one more time.

"You're so fucking pretty, but you also need someone to tame you. You've found the right man. Is that what you were looking for, officer? Someone to tame that bad temper?" he says and releases you one more time. You gasp for air as one tear sheds down your cheek.

"Come here. I'll fuck that bad attitude out of you." he orders as he puts the Darksaber away.

This. This is what you've always been craving, what you always wanted.

You slowly rise from the cold floor, your hands on his thighs as you can't stop looking at each other with longing desire. You straddle him, shaking in anticipation as you sink on his body guided by his hands on your hips, letting his cock slowly slide inside of you. The both of you moan as his cock splits you open for him, making him feel how hot and welcoming you are. You both let out a long, satisfied sigh, his voice is dark and sensual and you spasm around his throbbing cock, heavily aroused to finally have him inside of you.

“Mando, let me see if you're only good with words now."

“Din. I want to hear you screaming my name when I’ll make you come on my cock, officer.”

“You’re pretty confident in your abilities, Mandalorian.”

“Your mouth might say otherwise, but your body agrees with me.” he's so arrogant and full of himself, his confidence is making you wet.

“It does” you concede “you feel good, Din.” you purr in his neck, and he grunts when he hears how sweet your voice can be as you whisper his name while you have his cock buried inside of you. You start riding him slowly, looking at him in the visor as you feel every ridge and vein of his cock, enjoying every single moment of it, letting him almost slip out, only to let him back inside of you. He lets out sighs of satisfaction that drive you insane and only want to make you increase your rhythm but no, not yet, you want to make him pay for the way he's been treating you.

“If I had known my cock would have been enough to tame your bad temper, I’d have fucked you earlier.”

“What about yours, Din? What should I do about you being an asshole to me?” you say as you pull him out of you, making him grunt.

“Fuck. Put it back in.”

“Not so fast. I want you to behave. Beg for it.”

“You know I could just take you anytime I want, right?” “I do. But where would the fun be?”

He hums in pleasure as you take his drenched cock in your hand and start to slowly stroke it right in front of your cunt, moaning in his neck just to get him even more aroused.

“Fuck. You’re good at this.” he whimpers.

You start to slide it between your folds, the both of you moaning in arousal.

“Dank Farrik, d-do you want me to die?” he growls, subjugated by your teasing. “I want you to behave.” you whisper in a heady groan as you keep rolling your hips and rubbing your pussy on his cock. “F-fuck. I want to be inside of you so badly.”

“Say it.”

He sighs and pauses, taking a good look at the tip of his cock teasing your entrance.

“Please.”

“Please what?” you ask, biting your lip in pleasure.

“Please put my cock back inside of you, officer.” there's a hint of annoyance in his voice when he surrenders and sees your satisfied smirk.

“Good.” you whisper gasping against his helmet as you slowly slide his cock deep back inside of you.

That’s the moment when he digs his fingers in your hips and starts jackhammering you, making you scream as he said he would, your hands clawing on his shoulders.

“Who do you think you are? Do you think you can taunt me? I’m a Mandalorian. A bounty hunter. Bet you’ve never been fucked so good, officer. I’m gonna give you this cock so hard, you’ll never forget about me. You’ll be touching yourself thinking about me for the rest of your life. Thinking about the Mandalorian Din Djarin who fucked your brains out on Maldo Kreis.”

The way he's fucking hard and rough into you as he says those things in an angry, husky voice is pleasurably devastating and addicting, having you moan frantically as your body is held still by his strong hands.

"Oh, fuck, Din, don't stop. Don't stop!" you let out in a desperate cry.

"Do you want to come on my cock, officer? Let me hear it. I want to hear you beg for it."

"Please, please Din, make me come on your cock." you drawl, subjugated by lust.

"Mmm - you sound so hot when you beg for me. Keep going and I won't stop."

"Please! I've never been fucked like this, Din." your heart is racing, your breathing is getting laboured and feel the orgasm approaching “I'm so close, Din, so fucking close. Please, don’t stop."

"Come, officer. Keep riding my cock and come on it. I want to hear you scream my name."

"Oh, Din!" you scream his name as the overwhelming force of the orgasm washes over you, a white blaze of bliss making you lose control, uncontrollably spasming and sensually moaning as he doesn't stop giving it to you, groaning in pleasure when he feels how tight and wet you get around him when you come on his dick.

"That's it. That's my good girl." he grunts as he lets you ride your orgasm.

His rhythm slows down as you come back from your high, his hands still firmly on your hips, guiding you, making you slowly grind your pussy against his cock, the cockpit full of your pants.

"Ready for round two, officer?"

He doesn’t even wait for your response, your mind still fogged by the astonishing orgasm he just gave you.

He gets up from the chair and in a second he turns you around, your body slammed against the control panel and the windshield, your wrists held up high by his hand. Your legs are shaking and you can't really seem to stand on your feet properly.

You couldn't possibly be ready for him slamming his dick inside of you all at once, so hard that air leaves your lungs in an exhale. You'd curse at him, but you can't articulate words as he is fucking you so violently, his strong hand on your hip keeping you still. If you thought he was fucking you hard earlier, it's nothing compared to now - feeling all the power of his body giving it to you wild and raw is pleasurably devastating. You couldn't possibly have imagined that what he gave you earlier was merely foreplay for him, just a little tease before making sure you knew who is really in charge and how hard he can fuck you. He was just letting you have a small taste of what would happen after, wanting you to get ready for him, nice and wet and stretched open for his thick cock to split you in half. He grabs a fistful of your hair and you feel his helmet close to your ear.

"What? You're out of breath already? I'm just getting started, officer." he slides it out almost completely and slams it back in so hard you roll your eyes in pleasure.

"Look at you. Loving this dick so much you're rolling your eyes. Gonna fuck you so hard, you'll learn how to fucking behave."

You can't do anything besides taking his cock and letting out choked moans.

"Still regret being stuck here with me? Tell me. Do you still think I'm a coward?" he growls in between thrusts.

You can barely drawl a moan in response and he chuckles.

"Yeah, I don't think so. You can't even speak." he mocks you as he pounds into you harder and harder, devastating you, reducing you to a pathetic, moaning mess.

"Who knows if the snow storm has stopped and your partner is looking for you. What if he sees you getting fucked like this?"

You know it's wrong, but the thought turns you on so much that you clench around him, and he feels it.

"Oh, you'd like it? Officer, what do we have here? A little whore?" you hear his dark chuckle as he grips your throat with his hand, bringing you closer to him - the hot, naked skin of your back against his cold beskar armour as he never stops railing you.

Getting called like that in other circumstances, by any other person in the galaxy, would have caused you to shoot them immediately, but now, oh, did that turn you on.

"You like being called that way, don't you? Whore." he whispers softly in your ear, and it drives you insane despite how much you're trying to hide it. He feels your body getting rigid, the vibrations of your throat choking a moan, the way you bite your lip trying not to let one sound out, and you can bet he's loving every second of it.

His other hand starts to rub your clit and that's when you fucking lose it - your mouth opens wide and lets out a loud groan of pleasure.

"Tell me you're my whore and I'll give you the best orgasm of your life."

You hesitate - his request is so degrading, but you want it at the same time. He can sense your indecisiveness and stops drawing circles on your clit and starts going around it, carefully avoiding it.

"N-no. Don't stop. It's unfair!" you whimper.

"Say it."

You try to relieve the ache between your legs by bringing a hand there, but he is quick to stop you and block your wrist behind your back, immobilising you as if you were one of his bounties, getting you even more aroused, so much, in fact, that you let out another groan.

"Don't make me handcuff you." he growls sensually and you immediately picture him fighting criminals every day, used to manhandling thugs and being a badass and you get even more aroused at the thought, and decide to give him whatever he wants.

You mumble those words, barely audible, ashamed but at the same time yielding, desperately and pathetically wanting him to give you what you so achingly crave, in a way that only he can provide. A need that you never even realised existed before he brought you into the highest dimension of pleasure.

"What? I didn't hear you."

"I am your whore." you whisper, annihilated.

"Good girl. Say it again. Louder this time."

"I am your whore, Din! Please, please make me come like this!" you surrender to him completely, defeated by your very body refusing to let this slip away.

"That's my girl. You asked so nicely, I'm gonna give it to you." you hear the satisfaction in his voice as he immediately starts to rub your clit again, driving you close to the edge in no time, your cunt getting tighter in anticipation.

“Shit, I want to come inside of you. I'm so fucking close, officer. You’re gonna patrol the outer rim, flying your Starfighter while my cum drips down your beautiful cunt. You’re gonna feel that and you will think of me the entire time.” he rasps in your ear as you feel his body pushing you further into the transparisteel and then over the edge, making you come screaming his name once again rolling your eyes over your lids, desperately begging him to come inside of you.

His groans get louder and louder as he comes. You feel his is cock pulsing and twitching, thrusting into you, wanting to go as deep as it can go, filling you with his hot release as you clamp erratically around him.

Both of your bodies are spent as you come back from your high, the sound of your laboured breathing fills the cockpit.

"Hey" he pants "keep it inside now. I don't want to see a single drop going to waste. Are we clear?"

You nod and he slips out of you slowly as you obey his order, keeping his release inside of you as you get dressed, feeling it drip between your legs as he walks you back to your ship.

Carson is already there - he has fixed the minor damages your X-wing had sustained when you crashed in the snow, confident in the fact that you found shelter somewhere and that you’re safe and will be back soon.

What he did not expect is for you to show up with the Mandalorian by your side, though.

"Can I have a few words with you?" he asks with a raised brow.

You nod and walk a few steps away from Din, going behind your ship to have some privacy.

"He saved my life." you regretfully admit before he even has a chance to speak, expecting a scolding.

"Listen. I run the tabs on the Razor Crest. It seems like your new friend has an arrest warrant on him for the abduction of a prisoner." he pauses briefly and lets out a sigh "But he has also captured three wanted culprits and tried to save the Lieutenant's life."

"I'd say we let him go this time. I really don't want to file a report about what happened. I hate doing that."

"Is that so?" he asks sarcastically.

"These are trying times, come on."

Carson raises his brow once again, looking at you and then at the armoured menace standing a few steps away from him.

“Fine.” he shrugs, not wanting to dig deeper with regards to your change of mind towards the Mandalorian, then gets back to his ship.

You jump in your X-wing, but before closing the hatch and taking off, you address Din one more time.

"We're even now, Din Djarin. See you next time, and don't get caught."

240 notes · View notes

babydollmarauders · 8 months

Text

OURS — TREVOR ZEGRAS

trevor zegras x fem!reader

part of the Speak Now Fic List

summary: in which y/n and Trevor’s relationship is constantly being criticized by outsiders but they know their love is real.

warnings: references to nsfw activities, hate from outsiders, dialogue heavy, not proofread

notes: written semi-quickly, shorter than my other recent works, idk how i feel about this one, but it’s done and i hope y’all like it. ending is kinda iffy but oh well.

it seems like there’s always someone who disapproves of Trevor and i’s relationship.

my parents don’t like his carefree and confident demeanor. his younger brother didn’t trust me because i was someone new. his friends didn’t like that i write songs about exes and my relationships.

but most of all his fans and the media, judge us like they know us personally.

mostly judging me.

as a singer, my every move was criticized and picked apart. what i wore was either too homely or too dressed up. i was too skinny or too big. my heels were too tall, but then my nike’s were too ‘tom-boyish’. but the judgement had only seemed to get worse once i started dating Trevor.

suddenly his fans were saying i wasn’t good enough for him. analyzing our body language in photos and claiming that i didn’t act like i liked him. saying i was using him to further my fame.

but on the other side, i had my fans commenting that i was too good for him. citing his previous playboy ways and saying that he wasn’t smart enough or mature enough for me. claiming his bad boy attitude drew me in and that i would ‘come to my senses’ soon.

***

y/nofficial

liked by trevorzegras, gracieabrams, and 151,308 others

y/nofficial summer with my boy toy <3

tagged trevorzegras

Load more comments

trevorzegras my beautiful girl, you were off to a great start in the beginning and then you added the last photo

y/nofficial wdym? i think that ones my favorite!

trevorzegras whatever floats your boat mamas

gracieabrams cutest couple in the world ♥️

y/nofficial you’re the real loml <3

gracieabrams shhh i thought we weren’t telling trevor?

user26 NEW MUSIC COMING SOON?!

user81 i wonder if it’s about Trevor

jackhughes was i cut out of the last pic?! i thought you loved me, y/n 😪

y/nofficial in the wise words of Ariana Grande “you ain’t my boyfriend”

user40 the way she’s leaning away from him in the 5th pic? oh she’s over him

user95 she’s finally over the bad boy thing, i guess

user02 thank god! i don’t want her to get hurt!

user73 @/user02 HER to get hurt?! she’s gonna end up writing a slandering song about my baby Trevor and painting him to be an asshole

user02 @/user73 lmao yeah, well the shoe fits. why shouldn’t she write a song showcasing his true colors?

user73 @/user02 i’m not about to fight with a Y/N stan of all people— have fun supporting your famefucker

user02 @/user73 oh please, she doesnt need to use your little hockey asshole for fame when she’s already more well known than him

user12 we love a PR relationship 🫶

***

my converse squeak against the marble floors as i leave my execs meeting, catching the attention of many up and coming artists that are waiting in the lobby. i can feel their gazes following my every move, from when i stop in front of the elevator to when i press the down button, and i can’t help but laugh in my head; reminiscing of when i was the same way. star-struck and in awe whenever i saw any artists leaving the same doors i just walked out of.

but now, having been in the business for two years, that feeling has come and gone, replaced by small talk with those very same people that i once looked up to.

“hi.” i smile politely at a redheaded girl that sits close to the elevators, a notebook in her hand and stars in her eyes.

she looks around, as if searching, before she lets out an awkward chuckle. “oh- hi!”

the elevator dings twice before the doors open to another crowd of wannabe pop stars, and i step aside to let them out before waving a goodbye to the doe-eyed redhead and stepping into the elevator.

i’m excited to get back to my boyfriend, but that excitement vanishes when i scroll through twitter on my uber home.

—

oh- that was fast.

i can’t help but scroll through the replies and quote tweets, and by the time i arrive back home, i’m disheartened to say the least.

i thought i was being nice by greeting her? even if i couldn’t stay and talk. but apparently i should take this as a lesson for the future, don’t say hi to anyone unless i can stay and chat.

and my mood only worsens when i make it into the house, calling out my boyfriend’s name, to which i get no response.

“Trev?” my voice echoes off the walls of our home as i step into our bedroom, in search of the six foot tall hockey player. but i come up empty, finding that he still isn’t home from training camp.

i slide my phone from my pocket, drafting up a text before ultimately trying my luck at a phone call instead.

the outgoing ring reaches my ear twice before it stops, the call picking up.

“hey babe, what’s up?” Trevor’s tone is light and airy, painting an immediate smile across my lips.

“hey, i was just checking in.” i sit upon the fuzzy white blanket that’s folded along the foot of our bed, running my hands over the soft fabric. “i thought training was supposed to end at noon?”

“oh, yeah, it did.” he confirms, and i can hear someone else talking in the background. “Jimbo and i decided to grab lunch and catch up a bit.”

“oh, okay.” i nod, despite the fact that he can’t see me, and i can hear him conversing with someone.

“shh. hold on.” he tells someone. “he wants to say hi.”

i laugh as Jamie’s voice comes through the line. “HEY Y/N!!!”

“hi Jame!” i reply, listening as he grunts, wrestling the phone from Trevor, i assume.

“i’ve missed you!” he sounds closer now, while Trevor sounds farther away, calling out for his phone back, confirming my suspicions. “when do i get to see you again?”

“i’ve missed you too. if it’s alright with Trevor, and if you’re free, you can come over for dinner tonight?” i tell him. “i can go to the store and grab stuff to make my garlic and basil chicken pasta.”

“oh my favorite! i’m in! i don’t care what Trevor has to say about it, to be honest.” his response causes me to laugh, while my boyfriends calls out an offended ‘hey!’

“see you later!” Jamie yells, as i assume Trevor gets his phone back.

“did you need anything else, babe?” Trevor asks distractedly.

“no, nothin’ else.” i stand, gathering my car keys from my nightstand. “actually, i’m gonna go grocery shopping, can you think of anything we need?”

“condoms,” he replies unabashed, and i blush at the thought that Jamie heard him. “and frosted flakes. i finished ‘em off this morning.”

i roll my eyes before teasing, “the condoms or the frosted flakes?”

“both.” my skin heats up at the reminder of our morning activities, Trevor having woken me up before the sun even came up.

“oh- uh- okay.” Trevor laughs as i stumble over my words. “i’ll grab some more…of both.”

“thanks, love you!” he waits for my reply before hanging up, and i pad out of the bedroom, slipping my shoes back on by the front door before heading out to my car. i wasn’t big on driving, usually letting Trevor take that responsibility, and avoiding it when possible, so i only really used it when i had to go grocery shopping, relying on ubers to go anywhere else.

i slip into the drivers seat, huffing when i find that Trevor messed with my seat again. a harmless prank he likes to pull, just to see when i drive again and if i’ll notice. i adjust my seat before i pull out of the driveway, the radio playing faintly to fill the silence.

i’m nearly done with my shopping trip when it happens.

“he still uses those?” i’m mid-tossing the family size box of Frosted Flakes in the cart when the words reach my ears, and at first, i don’t even notice they’re being spoken to me. “he always said it felt like he was wearing nothing.”

i glance over to find a tall blonde standing next to my cart, staring down at my items.

“i’m sorry?” my brows furrow in confusion.

“oh- the condoms. Skyn Elite? Trevor used them back when he and i used to hook up a couple years ago.” the girl smiles, the supermarket lights reflecting off her sparkly lip gloss. “you’re his new conquest, right? y/n?”

“i’m his girlfriend, yes.” i nod, pursing my lips together in a straight line.

“right,” she nods. “girlfriend. you got the envied title.”

“i guess so.”

she gives another falsely innocent smile. “good luck keeping it! he’s insatiable, is he not? seemed like he was always keeping an eye out for the next girl.”

i’ve never particularly cared about the ghosts of Trevor’s hookup past. why would i be? i had them too, so who was i to be bothered by his? besides, right now, he’s mine. i’m the one he comes home to; the one he loves and talks about a future with.

“well, i should get going.” i tell her, already beginning to push the cart towards the end of the aisle, in route to check out. “it was nice to meet you.”

i was lying, sure, but i wasn’t going to let her get to me.

she bids me goodbye as i walk away, and when i glance back, i see her faux smile drop, her eyes rolling as she sneers, turning the other way.

yeah, i pretty much expected that.

i’ve just made it into the kitchen, dropping the grocery bags onto the counter, when my phone begins to ring, buzzing in my pocket with an incoming call.

i do an awkward dance of trying to free my hand from a twisted bag handle, before retrieving the vibrating device from my pocket, my fathers contact taking up the screen. pressing accept, i hold the phone up to my ear.

“hey, dad!” i chirp, opening the refrigerator to begin unloading the food.

“hey, pumpkin. what are you up to?” his voice drifts in my ear as i put away a gallon of milk.

“just unloading groceries.” i inform him. “what are you and mom doing?”

“oh, nothing.” he sighs. “just missing our little girl.”

i laugh at his dramatics.

“i know, i need to come visit.” i stuff a few cartons of berries and a bag of grapes into the fruit drawer before shutting the fridge.

“so catch me up, honey. what’s new?”

“nothing really. i’m working on some new music, and i had an exec meeting this morning to discuss how the album is coming. but other than that it’s same old same old.”

i open the cupboard, taking care of the box of cereal and a couple bags of chips as i speak.

“and you’re still dating the uh…” he trails off. “the one with the tattoos?”

i can hear the disapproval oozing from his voice and my eyes roll in my head.

“Trevor, yes.” i confirm, walking down the hallway to our bedroom and placing a few things on Trevor’s nightstand before setting a new bottle of shampoo on our bathroom counter.

“yeah, him.” he sneers, and it’s then that i hear the front door open, two sets of footsteps reaching my ears. a smile spreads across my face as Trevor calls out my name. “i don’t understand why anyone would do that to their body. that’s permanent, ya know.”

“mhm.” i hum in disinterest. “hey, dad, i gotta go. i’ll call you later.”

“oh alright, honey. love you!”

“love you too.” i hang up the phone as Trevor steps into the room, smiling at the sight of me.

“there you are.” he beams. his arms snake around my waist, pulling me against him, and his head dips down to bring his lips to mine.

“here i am.” i mumble against his lips, causing a chuckle to arise from his throat.

“Jamie is in the living room. followed me home claiming that he had to see you.” he tells me, his eyes lighting up at the mention of his close friend.

“yeah, i invited him over for dinner.” i inform him. my hands cup the back of his neck, pulling him back down for another kiss.

my whole body relaxes, any tension disappearing when his lips meet mine. his eyes scan my face as he pulls away, and his faces falls, his lips forming an exaggerated frown.

“what’s wrong?” he whispers, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear before pulling my head to his chest.

his heartbeat echoes in my head, calming me immensely.

“nothing.” i mutter, my eyes falling shut when he begins rubbing circles on my back.

“i don’t believe you.”

“it’s nothing, really.” i insist. “nothing that’s actually bothering me. just a little annoyed.”

“what annoyed you, baby?” he sways us back and forth and his hand on my back trails down to tickle at my side, making me giggle.

“well,” i sigh and he pushes me back to look into my face. “i said hi to a girl at warner today-”

he hums, encouraging me to keep talking.

“but it was just a quick ‘hi’. apparently she’s a fan of yours, and she thought it was rude of me to greet her and then not stay and chat.” i explain. “so she took to twitter to say so.”

Trevor huffs, his nose scrunching in annoyance. “well that’s just stupid. you don’t owe anyone a conversation…. except me. because you love me, obviously.”

i laugh at his joke, making his face light up at his successful attempt to cheer me up.

“what else, baby?”

“well then, at the store, i ran into one of your ex-hookups.” i continue, and his brows thread together in confusion.

“which, ya know, doesn’t bother me.” i clarify. “but she made a comment on the condoms we use and implied that our relationship wouldn’t last long.”

“our love is not hers to speculate on.” he gruffs out in annoyance, and i nod along.

“i know. so i walked away.”

“i’m proud of you, love.” he presses a kiss to my forehead, a smile resting upon my face as he does. “is that all?”

“almost.” i breathe out. “then i got home, and my dad called as i was putting away the groceries.”

“okay.” he nods, obviously confused why i would be annoyed about my father calling.

“and he made some snide remarks about your tattoos.” Trevor barks out a laugh at that, quite used to people commenting on the art that adorns his skin.

“i ignored them, and hung up pretty much right after, because you got home. but, i just wish he could look past them, because then maybe he’d see the kind, funny guy that you are and understand why i’ve given my heart to you.”

his eyes squint as he grins at my words, bending his neck to pepper kisses across my nose and cheeks. i squeal at the affection and he pulls back to look me in the eyes.

“baby, i don’t care what your dad thinks of me. only that you like me. and i’m pretty sure that you love me just the way i am.”

i nod, biting my lip and holding back a smile. my cheeks turn hot, a blush settling over them, and he smirks at the sight.

“i don’t want you to worry your pretty little mind, baby.” he coos. “so someone was wrongfully upset that you didn’t take time out of your day to talk to them— who cares? people like to throw rocks at things that shine. and you, my darling, shine so beautifully bright. they’re just jealous.”

i roll my eyes at his cheesy statement, but the sentiment warms my heart. “thank you, Trev.”

“any time, baby.” he pulls me in for another hug, my head resting on his chest again. “our love is ours. nobody else’s. what other people have to say about it, and about us, doesn’t matter.

“you hands belong in mine, my heart belongs to yours, and no matter what life throws at us, i’m by your side.”

i open my mouth to respond, but i’m cut off by another voice.

“aww, that was sweet.”

i lift my head from Trevor’s chest, our heads both turning towards the entrance to our bedroom to find Jamie standing there with a cheesy smile.

“Jimmy, what are you doing in here?” Trevor lets out a wheezy laugh at his friend, his head dropping back and his shoulders shaking. the sound is like music to my ears.

this man.

i am so irrevocably in love with him.

“i got bored.” Jamie shrugs. “you guys were taking forever.”

#speak now fic list #trevor zegras x reader #trevor zegras #trevor zegras imagine #trevor zegras blurb #trevor zegras fic #anaheim ducks #nhl fic #nhl imagine #faithlynn’s writings <3 #faithlynn’s insta edits <3

695 notes · View notes

chlerc · 10 months

Text

on the move ; jude bellingham

— summary; being in love with the guy you said yes to no-strings attached has to be the worse thing ever. He made it worst by moving to Madrid, no goodbyes.

pairing — jude bellingham x fwb!f. reader ( third person story )

word count — 1070 with a mix of social media posts.

content — lil angst(?) the girl who wants a forever with the guy who’s always on the move for his career. lil tadbit of asshole & toxic jude i think

NAVIGATION + author’s note: tbh idk where this went near the end, it’s sketchy…

is jude toxic if he’s based off this song…

Liked by judesgf, judeupdates and 29,462 others

ftballwags Jude Bellingham spotted with rumoured girlfriend, @ynusername ( last picture from her story captioned 2+2=22 in black and yellow )

View all 1,927 comments

files4jude damn he got a girl now

luvjb22 she’s literally so gorgeous…

jbellinghamdaily caption @ my account wrongly, that’s me sorry guys

Liked by gioareyna, jobebellingham and 2,581,654 others

judebellingham what a place 🇬🇷

View all 8,532 comments

jobebellingham who the flowers for

judebellingham @jobebellingham a cute photographer / my stalker

gioareyna cutie 😍

judebellingham @gioareyna all you 😘

ftballwags the flowers 🫣

j22de flowers are for me calm down guys

WAKING UP IN THE embrace of Jude had become her favourite thing over the past month. It was the way he had his arms around her waist, legs tangled with each other, the warmth radiating off his bare body and the comfort within him.

Him sleeping over at her apartment wasn’t foreign anymore, not with how the friendship escalated between them. From a friend to the rumoured girlfriend who in truth was actually a friend with benefits. Pictures of them together all over every social media platform but not once had Jude denied it but fueling it.

Her eyes gazed upon him as she adjusted to the golden streaks pouring in through her curtains. He had the kind of face that stopped her in her tracks. He was the kind of handsome that got into her bones, that spoke to her of olden times before he’s said a word. And he was so handsome as he slept, that steady heart, those steady breaths, more than enough to make her feel something she shouldn’t have.

She reaches for her phone and the screen lighting up, notifications flooding her lock screen but one catches her attention. “@fabrizioromano OFFICIAL: Jude Bellingham, Real Madrid player until 2029 for €103m plus 30% add ons!” She could feel the way her heart dropped, the blaring ringing sound in her ears and beads of tears threatening to spill.

“Why are you crying, m’love?” Jude shuffled under the covers, fingers running to swipe the tears off her cheeks as his hand cupped the back of her head. “You’re playing for Madrid next season?” The vulnerability in her voice almost broke him with how soft her sentence came out. “Yeah.” That was all he could get out knowing what was coming next.

“You’re leaving Dortmund? I thought you said you were staying.” Jude takes the moment to sneak a quick glimpse of her before looking away again, unable to maintain eye contact with her. “I did but if a club like Real Madrid offers you a contract would you have said no? It was for my career, not the money. Any amount of money from the team wouldn’t have been able to get me to stay.”

She knew this was coming all along, the talks and posts of Jude transfering to Madrid during the summer transfer yet she still got herself tangled in his mess. “So you’re moving to Madrid?” Her lips quivered at every word she’d said, struggling to compose herself when she should and had to. “Yeah, of course I‘m leavin’. You wouldn’t expect me to travel to and fro Spain, would ya?”

“So you’re leaving me behind too.” She mumbles under her breath, hoping to god Jude hadn’t heard it but he did with the close proximity between them. “There’s no way you’re acting sappy all up on me now. You went into this knowing you’ll never get anything out of it, I'm not staying just because you want me to or you need me.”

He untangles himself from her, throwing on his white sweatshirt that was on the floor. This was the kind of talk he wanted to avoid and he had never expected it to be with her. “I tell you I love you every night and I wake up to find you’re leaving for Madrid? I’m not even mad you’re leaving for Madrid, I’m mad I had to find out through a Twitter notification and not you when you were right in front of me this whole time.”

“Yeah what were you expecting me to say? I’m leaving for Madrid, whatever we have now ends here. No shit that was going to hurt your feelings like it is now but I told you that nothing will ever come out of this. Weren’t all your ‘I love you’ platonic?” There’s a hint of frustration in his speech as he huffed, hands crossed over his chest as he towers over his girl who was now standing. Once his girl, in his heart.

“Platonic? I literally am in love with you, Jude. The bare minimum you could do was to tell me you signed a contract with them, that would have prepared me for all this. I would have celebrated it and let you leave just like that.” She refuses to let him see the tears she’s gonna weep for him, not when he was being heartless but right.

“Love love love, all this bullshit coming from you. Then just continue being in love with me but I’m telling you I’m not staying for you. Wow it’s like you’re making me choose between my career and you! We agreed there’d be no love between us and you agreed, don’t push the blame on me like I’m heartless.” No one could ever experience it and she wished no one would ever experience the sorrow she felt. It’s almost like she’s his plaything, using it and throwing it however he wants.

“So it was something like you leading me on? Not addressing the girlfriend rumours?” And when his eyes were shifty and looking everywhere but her, it was more than a clear sign she needed. “No, not leading you on. I was just tryna be a gentleman but you obviously misunderstood that too. Addressing the rumours only makes it more complicated that it already is now, and you’ll just misunderstand it too.”

“I think you should leave, it does end here like you said. You’re not heartless, I was just stupid and wanted more from you even though you promised nothing. Thanks Jude, for opening my eyes.” She smiles meekly at him, not quite like the same smile he’d always see that reaches her eyes. “Yeah that’s what I’m doing, you’re living in wonderland and dreaming. Wake up, I’m not like how you imagined me to be. Nothing lasts forever, get over it.”

God he had been exactly how she imagined him to be but without this part. He definitely was everything she wanted even now despite everything he had said. Her eyes followed Jude as he left her bedroom, the shuffling of his feet and the slamming of the front door.

She should have known nothing lasts forever, she had walked into it knowing she’d never get anything out of it. She isn’t getting anything out of it and that shouldn’t affect her, that was what she planned to do after hearing his words. Nothing lasts forever, get over it.

Liked by gioareyna, masonmount and 348,937 others

ynusername ibiza, you were amazing 🤍

View all 3,826 comments

gioareyna miss you

ynusername @gioareyna miss you too, catch up soon when i’m back in dortmund 💋

sofiamartinez gorgeous girl love ya

ynusername @sofiamartinez love you 🤍🤍

ftballwags absolutely stunning 😍

julianbrandt Ist diese hübsche dame single? (is this pretty lady single?)

ynusername @julianbrandt haha nein, aber für dich könnte ich 😂 (haha no, but for you i could)

Liked by ynusername, jb22daily and 34,837 others

ftballwags Stories of rumoured girlfriend of Jude Bellingham, looks like there’s no more Jude in the picture. ( last picture from her bf’s story. )

View all 4,937 comments

ynusername 🤍

ftballwags @ynusername 🤞

judesgf NOW I HAVE A CHANCE 💪

jude_updates_22 damn i was rooting for them

bvb.updates bottled it like the title 😓

Liked by judebellingham, jobebellingham and 693,927 others

ynusername Love, Madrid 🎞️

View all 4,837 comments

gioareyna always stunning

ynusername @gioareyna can’t even see my face 🙄 but thank you gio 😘

gioareyna @ynusername still pretty in my eyes

jobebellingham food looks good

ynusername @jobebellingham always saved some for you 😁

judebellingham pretty girl

ftballwags @judebellingham 🤔👀

charlottehartz my girl ( who has a bf ) 💋💋

ynusername @charlottehartz nope, all yourssss

Liked by jobebellingham, gioareyna and 6,065,709 others

judebellingham recently but life was better with you

View all 47,245 comments

gioareyna your fault though 😓

judebellingham @gioareyna like i didn’t know that

jobebellingham fire caption 🔥 took you 7 months to realise

judebellingham @jobebellingham 🤬🤬

bvbdailupdates blud thinks we’re clueless

ftballwags now this is kinda sad

540 notes · View notes

marqueesaa · 2 months

Text

L'amore complicato

fandom - Baby (Netflix)

warnings - smut

[ You are the sister of Niccolò & Camilla Rossi Govender. Nobody knows that you have been involved with your brother's best friend, Brando de Santis, for a long time ]

a/n - this is my first scenario and I’m really nervous to post this. I tried my best and I hope you guys will like it. :)

in this scenario, your name is aleeza

"are you going to chiara today, ale?" Niccolo asked me as he sat down next to me on the couch and put his arm around me.

"I don't know, she's been acting weird lately. I think I'll stay here today, why?"

Niccolo nodded and licked his mouth. "Nothing important. Brando is coming round tonight and staying with us. Mum and Dad aren't here, so we have to make the most of it, don't we?"

He starts to laugh and I laugh with him. If only he knew that I've had feelings for Brando for a long time. Just the thought of him gets me down.

I squeeze my legs together and cross my arms in front of my chest. "So are we going to have a film night?"

I looked at him and he smiled at me. "Of course."

"Film night? I'll be there. What time is he coming?" Cami was leaning against the doorframe and had been listening to us. We looked at her as niccolo sat up straight. "I think around 20:00?"

"Vabbè (okay) "

—

I got out of the shower and put on my pyjamas. Well, actually it's just a tank top and shorts, it's hot here in Rome and I sweat quickly. I dried my hair and used hair oil. I took my favourite perfume and sprayed it all over me, I want to smell good for me, not for Brando...

*PIEP*

shit, he's already here.

"Aleeza open the door, it's Brando."

Niccolo shouted from his room and I rolled my eyes. I always have to open the door even though his room is right next to the door, plus it's his friend. Niccolo really has problems.

"I'm in the bathroom, come on you open it."

I shouted back and got upset. There's never any peace and quiet here. "Aleeza, open the fucking door, it's Brando, you know him."

I opened the bathroom door aggressively and closed it behind me so that it banged. "cornuto. (asshole)" I muttered to myself and ran to the door.

I opened the door and saw a curly-haired handsome boy, clearly Brando. He looks so cute but still so sexy. I don't know when I started talking about him so sexually, but every day it got worse.

"Ciao, bella."

He said to me and gave me a quick hug. I smiled and looked down, I was definitely blushing. 'Bella' is what he's calling me my whole life. It was just an insider name at first but by now everyone knows it's just a nickname for me.

Niccolo was never really happy with the nickname, it was a no-go. But he totally exaggerates. Even before I started raving about brando, it wasn't a problem for me. I always thought it was special, to be honest.

"How are you, tutto apposto?" He said to me, looking down at me. He's definitely a lot taller than me.

"Sí, Brando. How are you? Everything okay with you and your parents?" I asked him. Whenever he spends the night with us, there's always a problem with his parents. That's why I ask him. "Yeah everything's fine no worries." He smiled and you could see his cute braces.

I stroked his shoulder with my hand and smiled slightly at him.

"oh go away aleeza. Ciao brando, all good man?" Niccolo came up behind me and aggressively pushed me away. I banged on his door and rolled my eyes. Niccolo can be such a fucking arse.

"Come on, don't push your sister around like that." Brando said and smiled at me. He gave my brother a handshake.

"Since when do you pay attention to aleeza Cazzone?" Niccolo said and gave him a light slap.

"Since I will become your new daddy if I keep doing it with your mum." There he is, the old brando. A disgusting arsehole. But there's something about him that drives me crazy.

"Dai stronzo (come on, asshole) , put your things on my bed." Niccolo gave him a slap on the back of his neck as Brando glided towards Niccolo's room.

It's been a while since we all sat on the couch and watched Friday the 13th. Me, nic and brando are really into horror films. Cami isn't, so for the first 30 minutes she just looked at her mobile phone and covered her ears when she heard screaming, and then at some point she went to sleep.

You couldn't tell that Niccolo was incredibly tired. He was with Virginia today and did God knows what. As broken as he was lying on that couch, it could only be something brutal.

And I was sitting next to Brando. Well, I had my legs in my hands and Brando was lying quite wide, but he was still next to me.

God, what would he think if he knew how I thought up all the scenarios with him every day. I was always just the innocent child without a boyfriend and without a first kiss.

Yes, I am a virgin. But I don't mind, I always wanted it to be Brando. In my dream he was, but in reality - it's probably not going to happen.

I heard Brando yawning next to me and niccolo snoring on the other side. "God, what has he done today?" Brando whispered to me and had to giggle with me.

"He was with Virginia today. I don't know what she did with him." I told him and he started laughing quietly. "Hang on." He said and sat up straight.

I played with my fingers in nervousness because I didn't know what was coming next. "How do you know they're having sex?" He asked me with a questioning look.

Are you serious? I'm 16 and not 2. I know what that means and I know how it works, who does he think he is?

"Brando, seriously? Every normal relationship has that." Hoping I don't say the wrong thing, Brando licked his lips.

"Yeah just relationships... so you know how it goes ale?" He raised his eyebrows.

I started to stutter. "I said relationships. I've never been in one." Brando noticed me getting shy. He smiled slightly and played with the band of his sweatpants. "And you?" I asked quietly so niccolo wouldn't hear.

He ran his tongue over his teeth and looked at me deeply. "I've done it before." Ouch. So the asshole can do it.

"Cool?" I said somewhat dubiously and had to laugh quietly.

"I can show you." He said quietly and I started to sweat. What? He can show me? In front of niccolo? "What do you mean ?" I said quietly with a stutter

He started to laugh. "Have you ever touched yourself, aleeza?" He looked me straight in the eye. And I thought I was going to die. I've touched myself before, but it wasn't anything serious. I didn't do anything and I didn't feel anything.

"yes." I thought I looked cool when I said that after exposing myself to him. "So?" He said and touched my knee with his big hand. He came closer with his face and whispered in my ear "did you come?"

I gasped and automatically covered my mouth. "Brando not here." I whispered back and pointed at niccolo. He looked at niccolo and then back at me. He looked me up and down.

"Did you wear that especially for me?" He pulled on my shorts a little and looked at my tank top. I sat up straight and looked at him. "No..." I breathed in and out deeply

"Mhm definitely." He moved his lips towards my neck. I turned my head to the side to give him more space. But he didn't kiss. He didn't do anything. He just breathed. I leaned back and realized how impatient I was getting.

I moved my lips to his neck this time and started to give short kisses. He held my head with his hand while he leaned his head back. Niccolo was still fast asleep.

My kisses started to get more impatient and wet and I moved my legs to my rhythm. He held my hips tightly and moved with me. He moaned slightly and from then on it was over. I felt something irresistible inside me that could not be interrupted under any circumstances.

I moved my leg slightly over to his lap and felt something in his pants. I smiled as I continued to suck on his neck. I moved uncontrollably onto his lap and moaned at only light contact with his part. Brando had enough. He took my neck with his hand and looked at me with wide eyes.

"Are you sure, ale?" He said almost out of breath as I continued to move onto his lap slow like it was an addiction. "Please." I whispered as I wrapped my hand around the back of his neck.

He moaned softly and picked me up from the sofa. He took my hand and walked to my room. I looked back but niccolo was still fast asleep. He opened the door and laid me on the bed. He closed the door and walked towards me.

He was on top of me and started kissing along my neck. I rolled my eyes when I felt his tongue. Fuck I can't take any more. He sucked on my neck and moved up to my face. He looked deep into my eyes and leaned forward. He kissed me hard, needy and like he could never stop. He kissed with tongue as I accepted it and the romantic kiss became a dirty kiss.

He kissed me and ran his hand along my breast. He squeezed it lightly as I moaned into his mouth. He pressed his mouth harder against mine and I felt his thick between my legs.

I whimpered as he continued to massage my boobs, pushing his part harder and harder against me. I bit his lips and I could have sworn I bit them bloody. And I could swear my thong became a swimming pool. He stopped kissing me and quickly pulled away from my lips as they stuck together. He moved down a little and slowly removed my tank top.

I watched him as his eyes got even bigger and the bulge in his sweatpants got more impatient. I bit my lips when he noticed that I wasn't wearing a bra. I felt a little uncomfortable but when he immediately sucked on them and massaged them with his other hand, the feeling went away. I moaned and squeezed the pillow next to me so hard.

"Brando, please." I whimpered and looked over at him. "What baby? What do you want I'll do anything." He whispered and wiped his mouth with his Hand.

"Please eat me out" I whispered and took his face in my hands. He made a soft noise and rolled his eyes. "You're incredible." He said as he ran his tongue along my stomach. "bellissima aleeza." I smiled slightly at the compliment and gasped as I felt his mouth and nose on me. He pressed them against it as he slowly removed my pants

When he took them off, he saw a big stain on my underpants. He smiled and laughed slightly. I panicked and looked down. Omg, I was really wet. That's not just a saying, that really happens? Holy fuck. "Brando I'm sorry I-" I stuttered as he put his finger to my mouth and asked me to be quiet. "That's a compliment mamí. You're ready." He said quietly and took off the white thong.

He bit his lips as he held it in front of him. He was so ready to be a part of my life forever. He leaned on the bed and kissed along my thighs. I rolled my eyes and picked up the pillow and pressed it against my face. I don't want to embarrass myself in any way.

But he took the pillow and threw it at the door. "I want to hear you." He said, and I felt his words on the excited part of my body. "But nicc-" I whimpered when I felt his lips and I gasped. I went up with my hips as he pushed them back down. "Fuck brando." I said softly, stuttering as I kept going up because this feeling is so different.

He licked and sucked on my clit as I opened my mouth without anything coming out. I was petrified. I took my hand and held Brando's hair. I squeezed harder to make the feeling less intense but he squeezed harder.

Tears formed on my face as I felt something in my stomach. He used a lot of spit as he returned to my thighs to give me a little break. I breathed heavily and loudly as he pressed in again and sucked the brains out of me.

There's no way I'm going to look at brando normally after the situation here

I had the feeling that I urgently needed to go to the toilet when I tried to push Brando away. "Brando please..." I whispered with tears in my eyes. "Brando stop I have to go to the toilet." I whimpered and he looked at me with a smile. "You don't have to go to the bathroom, you're coming." He pushed his tongue in further as I squeezed my mouth shut with my hand to reduce my cries.

I rode his face like it was my last day. I moved in sync with his tongue as a liberating feeling came and I exhaled loudly. I breathed quickly and looked at brando who was smearing his face away with his finger. Omg, did I piss on him ?

I went through my hair, this can't be happening. "Congratulations, Bella." He came up to me and kissed me.I was out of breath when his finger came towards his mouth. I looked at him with wide eyes as he sucked on his finger. "Brando..." I moaned and lay back down with my head in the bed. I touched my chest, my neck, everything he had touched. He watched me and licked his lips.

"That was -"

"Brando?!"

Oh fuck, niccolo is still here.

"Brando are you in here?" Niccolo knocked hard and fast on my door as I started to panic and howl. Brando bit his lips in exasperation and pressed his hand against my mouth. "shh, be quiet baby." He said quietly, thinking as he looked around.

Niccolo knocked harder and louder. "Aleeza?!" He shouted and continued knocking. I kept crying and breathing very fast, very unhealthy. "I'm scared brando" I whimpered and touched his hair.

"I know ale, you have to be quiet now." He said and I just nodded with teary eyes. "Why are you yelling?" I heard Camilla say to niccolo as I panicked even more. I'm definitely going to keel over.

"Shit." Mumbled brando as we continued to listen. "I'm looking for Brando and Aleeza won't open the door," niccolo said aggressively and continued banging on the door. "Relax nic, Brando's probably already gone. You know this has happened several times. Let Ale sleep."

Camilla said a little anxiously as I continued to squeeze my eyes shut.

"Get dressed." Brando whispered to me as he handed me my underpants and bra. "I'm leaving through the window." He whispered and gave me a kiss on the forehead. "Be strong."

I put on my bra and underpants as I got up from the bed and helped brando open the window quietly.

"Brando are you sure?" I said quietly and howled as it suddenly became quiet outside the door. He nodded and gave me a kiss. "We'll talk tomorrow"

"Brando..." I said and hugged him. "Pretend you were asleep and left before me. I'll find an excuse tomorrow at school. Aleeza please don't say anything or we won't make it." I nodded slightly and swallowed. He climbed through windows and jumped down. I looked down and saw him running away. He looked back and smiled at me. I smiled back and wiped my eyes dry.

"Aleeza I'm coming in now I have your key." Niccolo said as I stood in front of the window in my bra and underpants.

Oh shit.

#brando de sanctis #baby netflix #lorenzo zurzolo #theodore nott #mirko trovato #niccolo rossi #imagine #lorenzo berkshire #mattheo riddle #tom riddle #draco malfoy #timothee chalamet #jude bellingham #blaise zabini

240 notes · View notes

janeyseymour · 3 months

Text

Tough Philly Girl

I don’t know, this came to my head, and I couldn't get it out

As usual, unedited, written while half awake, and hoping it's good enough.

Summary: Melissa's always been tough. Why?

WC: ~3.15k

“Why do you always have to be such a fucking asshole?!” you shout at your girlfriend, and you know you don’t usually curse when in arguments with each other, but… well, she started cursing at you first. She had called you a bitch, and you just lost it.

“I’m a fucking asshole?!” she screams back at you. “You’re the asshole!”

“We’ve been dating for two years, Melissa!” you yell as tears stream down your face. “I thought that by now, you would’ve let me in! I thought you would’ve dropped the ‘tougher than you’ complex! But no! Fuckin’ no! You still have your fucking walls up so fuckin’ high that I don’t even know the woman I fell in love with!”

“Newsflash: I didn’t ask you t’fall in love with me!” she retorts.

“You know what? Fuck this…” you wipe at your tears angrily. “I’m done. I’m not fucking doing this anymore.”

“Fine, run! Like you always do! God, you can’t ever just fight the fight!” She yells as she storms out of your shared bedroom. “All you do is fuckin’ run!”

“When you call me a bitch and fucking asshole,” you grumble. “Yeah, I do. I don’t deserve to put up with this shit.”

You pack a bag, and you leave the house that has become both of yours. You don’t even look back as you pull out of the driveway. You have absolutely no idea where you’re going, but you’ll- you’ll be okay.

You’re not, actually. Your heart is breaking inside of you as you drive through center city Philadelphia during rush hour. One of the worst cities to drive through at this time, the only one being worse is New York City.

Somehow, you end up at Janine’s house.

“Y/N!” her eyes light up at the sight of you, but then they flicker to the bag you have slung over your shoulder and the tears still rolling down your cheeks. “Uhm, are you okay?”

“Can I spend the night?” you ask meekly. “I- uh… Melissa and I had a fight, and I- I don’t know where else to go.”

“Y-yeah! Of course! I can set up the couch,” she says quickly as she ushers you inside. “Although I’m shocked you came here, and not to Barbara’s.”

“Going to my girlfriend’s best friend is probably not the smartest thing,” you chuckle bitterly. “I’m sure Barb’s gonna hate me tomorrow.”

You’re met with Gregory Eddie sitting at the dinner table. His posture immediately straightens out, and you swear you can see just the smallest blush creep into his cheeks.

“Hey,” you sigh softly. “I’m sorry I’m interrupting your date night.”

“A-are you okay?” he asks you gently- far more gently than you’ve ever heard from him at school unless he’s talking to his girlfriend.

“Melissa and I had a fight, and I had to get out of there,” you sigh softly. “I- I couldn’t keep fighting.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Janine asks.

You shrug, and the couple continues to watch you. With a sigh, you start to spill what had happened. Really, all you wanted was for the feisty redhead to drop her tough girl act, even just slightly for you. But she refused- she flat out refused, and then she doubled down on it. And because you were big on communication, you tried to speak your concerns… and that threw her for a loop. You knew your girlfriend, sure you did- the two of you live together. But after two years of dating Melissa, you thought you would’ve known her more than you did. And you can’t spend your life with someone who stays guarded- you can’t marry someone who still has the walls up around you, even if you know her a lot more than most people. She still refuses to talk about most of her family to you.

The two listen, and then Gregory cuts in. “You know you know way more about Melissa than any of us do.”

“I should know everything about her after knowing her for two and a half years and dating her for two,” you huff.

“You live with her, you have to know more than you think,” Janine tells you.

“I didn’t even know she had a sister until she mentioned it at school,” you huff. “Don’t you think I should’ve known that before… no offense, people like you knew?”

“I mean,” Janine bites her lip. “I guess. But that’s just Melissa.”

“We’ve been dating for over two years,” you repeat. “I should know a lot more about her- I should know every side of her, and I really only know the tough girl side.”

“Isn’t that what you fell in love with to begin with though?” the man asks.

“Yes,” you grumble. “But I thought-”

“Has it crossed your mind that she doesn’t have a softer side?”

“Everybody does, especially teachers,” you mutter. “I’ve seen her soft with her kids. I know she has a soft side. She just doesn’t ever fucking show it to me, unless it’s after…” you turn red at the thought of her head between your legs.

“I’m sorry you guys had a fight,” Janine tells you. “That really sucks.”

“It sucks for all of us,” you sigh as you roll your eyes. “She’s gonna be a menace tomorrow.”

Back at the house, Melissa is fuming. She knows that your concerns and thoughts are entirely right- she hasn’t dropped every wall that she probably should with your history. And that’s what makes her even more pissed- she knows she’s at fault for this, and she really doesn’t know how to make it right.

Her first call, of course, is Barbara.

“Melissa, dear?”

“She left,” the redhead bites out. “She fucking left!”

“What do you mean she left?” Barbara immediately turns concerned.

“She left me! And it’s all my fault! She- she’s gone Barb!”

“Oh dear lord,” the kindergarten teacher grumbles. She moves away from the phone for a few seconds, probably relaying to Gerald what’s happening right now. “I’m on my way.”

When Barb is at your house, Melissa is pacing furiously back and forth.

“Well, sweetheart,” the older teacher asks gently. “Have you talked to her about all of this?”

“No, why would I?”

“Because she’s your girlfriend, and she cares about you… every side of you,” Barbara hits her with a pointed look. “You couldn’t have expected to keep the tough girl act up for forever.”

“I know, but I thought I had more time,” the redhead runs her hands through her hair and fidgets with her necklaces. “It took me nearly five years to open up to you.”

“Well, that may be true, but we aren’t romantically involved with each other.”

“So you think I’m to blame for this one?” Melissa groans out.

“All I’m saying is… try to see it from her side,” the kindergarten teacher says. “And you better not come into the staff room tomorrow being a…” she trails off before humming.

“I can’t promise nothin’.”

“Do you want me to stay tonight?”

“No,” Melissa grumbles. “I gotta figure out what I’m gonna do about Y/N, although the way she packed a bag, I’m not sure I can get her back this time.”

The next morning, you sigh as you walk into the staff room to put your lunch away- you already miss having your girlfriend’s leftovers, and instead you’re stuck with a ham and cheese sandwich and a bag of chips. You know you won’t have Melissa making you a cup of coffee like she usually does, and you sigh as you make your own.

You don’t even bother to stick around to watch the news with your friends- er… her friends, and you really don’t want to see the redhead today. But of course, as you’re hustling down to your classroom, you see her. She looks at you, you look at her, and then you continue on your paths.

She storms into the break room, half slamming things around as she puts her own lunch away and makes her own cup of coffee. She finds an extra mug and pours you a cup before coming down to your classroom. She places it in front of you and glares at you. When you don’t so much as glance at her, she huffs.

“Just because we’re fighting don’t mean I don’t still love you.” She plants a rather aggressive kiss to your hairline, and you still don’t respond. “Fine.” And with that, she leaves your classroom.

“She won’t even look at me,” your girlfriend groans to her friends. “I brought her a cup of coffee, and she still wouldn’t look at me.”

Gregory and Janine share a look- they know how you feel on the subject, and they aren’t about to interject with their own thoughts. They had talked about it after heading to bed last night, and because you weren’t asleep, you also knew how they felt on the matter.

“Do you really think one cup of coffee is going to fix this issue between the two of you?” Barbara asks her best friend.

“I thought it would get her to look at me.”

Lunchtime rolls around, and you actively avoid the staff room. You take your kids down to the lunch room before anyone else and sneak into the break room. You grab your sacked lunch and bolt back to your room.

Melissa comes knocking on your door about ten minutes into lunch.

“I really don’t want to talk to you right now,” you say plainly.

She sighs, clearly upset, and turns on her heel. You hear the way her heels hit the linoleum floor angrily.

The rest of the day passes by painfully slowly, and come the end of the day, you really don’t want to have to go home to her, but you aren’t about to put yourself on Janine and Gregory again.

“You can stay with us again if you need another night,” Janine still offers.

“I appreciate it, but I have to figure out what I’m going to do moving forward,” you sigh.

“A-are you thinking of breaking up with her?” Gregory asks you, terrified for what might happen if you do split.

“I don’t know,” you sigh. “I love her, but if I can’t get through to her anymore, I don’t really know… I can’t spend my life with someone I don’t know every side of.”

You have no idea Melissa was standing on the other side of the door and could hear you. She practically runs out of the school. She’s going to have to do something big to keep you by her side.

When you enter your home… house… old house (?), you sigh. It looks darker than usual, as if the house knew the two of you were fighting. It’s a gray day, and the natural light that usually shines through the big window in the kitchen only reflects your mood. You sigh as you pull out a few things to grade.

About half an hour later, Melissa comes in, and it’s almost like she has her tail between her legs.

“Y/N?” she calls softly. You fight the urge to look up, keeping your eyes trained on Brianna’s math test in front of you. “Amore?” You still don’t respond.

She finds you at the kitchen table, glasses on top of your head and grading quickly. She shyly holds out a giant bouquet of flowers she bought for you.

“Very pretty,” you mumble, but you don’t take them. You quickly flicker your eyes back to the paper that you’re in the middle of marking.

“Y/N,” the redhead says softly, and she places the flowers down next to you. “C’mon.”

“Flowers don't fix our issues,” you tell her quietly. “I’m still pretty pissed at you.”

“I’m sorry I called you a bitch and an asshole,” she whispers as she wraps her arms around your shoulders.

You shrug her off.

“Thank you, but I’m still pissed,” you tell her honestly. She doesn’t make another move for you. She slinks away. She cooks dinner silently. It’s quite a change in your house- the two of you always listen to music while in the kitchen. This tension could be cut with a knife, and all that’s audible is the scrawling of your marker and the sizzling of the vegetables she’s sautéing.

“Dinner’s ready,” she tells you.

“‘m not very hungry,” you mumble, and at this point she knows you’re just being stubborn.

“You gotta eat, hun,” she says softly.

“I will,” you sigh and pick up your things. You’ll finish grading in the home office the two of you have set up but rarely use.

“Y/N,” she calls after you. “C’mon. I apologized for calling you a bitch, I brought you home flowers, and I cooked dinner!”

“I already told you that wasn’t why I’m pissed,” you call over your shoulder as you continue to head for the office. “I thought I made it pretty clear why I’m upset, and if you don’t know why I’m really upset… we have a bigger issue on our hands.”

Melissa hates eating dinner by herself. It’s always something she’s loved to share with others. She stabs the food with her fork more aggressively than she usually would. She settles on the couch after doing the dishes- something the two of you usually do together. She misses having you next to her. She turns on the television, but her mind is anywhere but with whatever is on the screen.

You thought, and maybe hoped, that your girlfriend would come into the home office. But she doesn’t. You can hear the television playing, so you sigh and finish grading. And once you’re finished grading multiple subjects, you head to your shared bedroom, and you pack a bag. You suppose you’ll be staying at a hotel tonight.

“I’ll see you later,” you tell her as you walk through the living room, duffel bag slung over your shoulder.

“Where are you going?” she asks, eyes filling with fright.

“Dunno,” you shrug. “Just not… here.”

“Y/N,” she says meekly- it’s weird to hear her voice like this. “Please don’t do this.”

“I’m not doing anything,” you sigh as you take your keys from the holder by the front door. “I’ll see you later.”

“Where are you going?” she repeats, firmer.

“Probably the Marriott. I don’t want to be here right now.” You don’t give her a chance to say anything more before you walk out.

She almost follows you, but she doesn’t. She knows if she comes out and just continues to beg you to stay, it’ll just be another fight. So she does the only thing she knows to be the right choice at this point in time- she calls her best friend.

“Barb, I can’t lose her,” Melissa rushes out as soon as the kindergarten teacher answers.

“What do you mean, honey?”

“She’s going to break up with me, and I can’t lose her. I can’t,” the redhead states firmly. “I- I bought her flowers, I apologized for calling her a bitch, I cooked dinner… she won’t talk to me!”

“Melissa, no one said anything about losing her,” the older teacher says calmly.

And that’s when she reveals what she heard you tell Gregory and Janine.

“Well, what do you think you should do?”

“She wants me to open up! But I- I hate being vulnerable,” she sighs.

“You’ve been dating her for two years,” Barbara reminds her. “You’ve seen her at her most vulnerable. Maybe it’s your turn.”

“I- fuck.”

“You don’t want to lose her, do you?”

“No. I need her.”

“Then maybe it’s time to allow her to see you- all of you.”

“She has,” Melissa mumbles before sobering. “O-okay. Fine. But if this doesn’t work, you get to deal with post-breakup Schemmenti.”

“I’ve done it before,” the kindergarten teacher rolls her eyes. “I’ll do it again, although I really would not like to. Y/N is good for you.”

“Thanks, Barb,” the redhead sighs into the phone.

“Go get your girl back,” the kindergarten teacher encourages her friend before hanging up.

Melissa grabs the flowers that she’s since put in the vase and heads outside, only to discover it’s pouring rain. She doesn’t even care. She has to get you back.

She manages to hit every single traffic light on the way to the hotel, and then she has to circle the block a few times to find a parking spot. By the time she’s parked, she’s about a quarter of a mile away and she’s in the middle of a torrential downpour with no umbrella. She doesn’t care. She has to get to you.

You’ve just managed to check into your hotel room, and she misses you by one elevator ride. She must look insane when she runs into the hotel lobby, hair clinging to her soaked clothes and holding a sad and now saggy bouquet of flowers.

“Ah,” the concierge at the front desk eyes her. “You must be here for the sad girl that just checked in.”

“Please… tell me what room number she is,” Melissa wheezes out, trying to catch her breath.

“I’m afraid that’s against company policy,” the man behind the desk says.

“Can you phone her and tell her she has a visitor then? Please?”

The employee seems all too excited to tell her no.

The redhead looks like she’s about ready to kill, but she pulls out her phone, dials her guy, and in no longer than two minutes does the smug employee look like he’s about to shit bricks as he uses his keycard to allow her up to your room.

There’s a knock on your door, and you sigh from your bed.

“I didn’t call for room service,” you say loudly enough that whoever is behind the door can hear you. They only knock again.

With an angry breath, you stand from your bed and make your way to the door. You whip it open, ready to tell off whatever room service person is behind your door, but you’re greeted with Melissa. Her red hair is no longer curled, but soaked straight and clinging to her body. Her leather jacket is doused in rain water, and her old Abbott sweatshirt sticks to her skin. The flowers she’s holding droop with the added weight from the rain. Her makeup is running, and she’s out of breath, but she’s here.

“Please don’t leave me,” are the first words out of her mouth. “Please. I can’t live without you.”

You go to shut the door on her, but her the toe of her dock catches the door, and she finally sighs, “Do you want to know why I have to be so tough all the time?”

Interest now piqued, you raise a brow and slowly open the door.

This ought to be good.

#melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti x reader #abbott elementary fanfic #abbott elementary fanfiction #abbott elementary

314 notes · View notes

astro-ellie · 1 year

Text

thinking about being abby’s best friend and absolutely hating owen. you don’t think he deserves abby at all, he’s such a douche. he’s just not good enough for her, that’s it.

it’s totally not because you’ve been hopelessly in love with your best friend for the past five years. nope, it’s cause she could do so much better than that. owen is an idiot. he’s not her boyfriend yet, but they’re definitely past the talking-stage now. just a matter of time before they make it official.

when abby shows up at your front door for your weekly sleepover, snacks in hand and her bag hanging off her shoulders, you push your thoughts about owen to the back of your mind and focus on her instead. focus on abby, focus, focus, focus.

when you’re both laying on your bed, watching some old romcom on your computer, you don’t notice the way abby looks at you. you’re fully focused on the screen, but abby’s eyes never leave your face. it’s not until she reaches over the pause the movie you look up, and the look in her eyes is enough to have you blushing.

“hey…” abby nibbles on her lip before continuing; “is something wrong?” there’s a concern in her voice, and she looks genuinely worried. you stay silent for a few more seconds while your eyes dart around her face. you hope, hope she doesn’t notice the way your eyes linger on her lips.

“what do you mean?” you’re playing dumb now, you know she’s not really talking about tonight. you’ve been acting weird lately, avoiding your friend group and when you do actually spend time with them you don’t really talk too much anymore.

but how can you tell abby it’s cause her stupid boyfriend is there and you hate his guts? that something is wrong, and that is that she’s with him and not with someone like you.

“c’mon, something’s off. you can tell me, we’re friends right?” and abby bumps her shoulder into yours, and nibbles on on her lips again. just hearing the word friends is enough to make the feeling of disappointment spread in your chest. letting out a defeated; “yeah, we’re friends.”

abby just keeps on looking at you, waiting for an explanation why you’ve been weird. you can tell she’s not going to drop it so eventually you cave in. “just don’t do wanna get in the way, or like i don’t want to… third wheel? just don’t wanna…”

it’s a lousy excuse. really, how can you be the third wheel when manny’s always there? you’re like, the fourth wheel.

you feel a little bit embarrassed when looking at abby, but she just seems confused. “who you third wheeling?”

“uh, you and owen?” now you’re the one confused. who else could you possibly be talking about? are you missing something, or has abby been hit by a sudden wave on amnesia?

the embarrassment you felt earlier just grows stronger when abby starts laughing at you. it’s not a mean laughter, more like a surprised one. still stings though.

“me and owen aren’t- we’re not together or anything.” abby just leans her face closer to yours, and you can practically feel her breath on your own lips.

a bitter “yet” is all you let out and abby can’t help but smile at the pout on your face. she lets out a breathy laugh, bumping into your shoulder once again. “oh my god, me and owen are not going to get together. ever.”

“but i thought-“ and before you can finish your sentence, abby interrupts you. “i’m not even into owen like that. i like someone else” abby’s words has you speechless, feeling your cheeks heat up in frustration. so it’s not owen that you need to worry about, but someone else. great.

somehow it felt worse that it was someone else. because owen has always been a douche. it’s easier to compete against an asshole like him than someone who’s actually nice, and funny, and pretty. three boxes that this mysterious crush probably ticked off.

“what? who?” your hands are on her shoulders now, and you playfully shake her. abby just smiles mockingly at you before she presses the space bar on your computer, the movie you had forgotten about how playing again.

“hey! you gotta tell me, we’re like best friends, best friends tell each other everything” you wince after speaking, cause you don’t tell her everything. guilting abby into telling you about this crush when you haven’t told her about your crush feels low, but it’s too late now. your words are left hanging in the air, until abby suddenly starts speaking again.

“okay, okay. i actually thought she knew i liked her, been into her since forever.” she completely lost you the moment she said “she” instead of “he”. ever since you two first became friends all abby ever had eyes for were boys. and you had learnt to be fine with that, knowing that she would never look at you like she looked at those guys.

you didn’t know if it made you happy to hear this, if it felt good knowing you had more of a chance with her than you initially believed. it did feel a little bit like you were playing in the same league now that you knew she had eyes for women as well.

but you knew that there was no guarantee that she one day would reciprocate your feelings just because she liked women. it felt bittersweet, and lost in your thoughts you didn’t even notice abby had stopped talking. slowly, she closed your laptop completely and moved it further away from you two.

when she moved in front of you and into a sitting position, you finally snapped out of it. sitting up as well, trying to play the way you zoned off. “sorry, you were saying?”

“i said, i thought she knew. that i liked her. but i’m not sure anymore” it almost felt as if she was teasing you, with her head leaning to the side and that small playful smile on her lips.

“really? why’s that?” clearing your throat, trying to make yourself sound casual and cool. abby leans forward a little bit, and whispers as if she’s telling you her biggest secret. “she keeps on inviting me to her apartment for weekly movie dates. but i’m starting to suspect that she thinks they’re friendly hangouts and not dates”

if there’s one thing abby anderson has always been good at, it’s making you speechless. tonight is no exception, and if honestly takes you a good minute to manage to get any words out.

“oh my god, abby! you’re totally fucking with me!” it does feel a little bit humiliating, but obviously abby doesn’t know you like her like that. so how would she be able to know about the hurt her joke left you with?

“no, i’m not!” all she does is laugh at you, grabbing onto your shoulders before letting out a soft; “it’s you. i like you”

and before you know it, abby presses her lips against yours. it’s a soft and quick kiss, innocent and pure, but it’s enough to make butterflies spread through your body.

”wait- why, why didn’t you tell me earlier?” it’s hard to get the sentence out, all you can focus on is the way abby’s staring at your lips.

“like i said, thought you knew. until you started getting so jealous over owen” and you open your mouth to deny the accusations before you realise there’s no point. also, abby likes you back. who cares if she knows you were jealous of owen? “even manny knew, said he could see it in my eyes and all. didn’t realise you’d be so oblivious-“

“abby, just shut up and kiss me again.” and abby grins at you one last time before leaning in, your lips so close they’re almost touching. she mumbles something against your mouth before pressing another kiss, this one much longer and less soft.

“yes, ma’am”

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson angst #abby anderson fluff #abby anderson smut #abby anderson #abby tlou #abby anderson blurb #ellie williams x reader #abby anderson drabble #abby anderson x female reader #abby x reader

940 notes · View notes

antianakin · 17 days

Note

Pong Krell. It’s universally agreed that he deserved worse than what he got and I get that. I just wished we got to see what he was like before he Fell. Did he always hate clones, was it gradual? Did he suspect something off and went over paranoid?

I’ll say this one and I’ll say this probably a thousand more times but I wished the creators focused on more details with characters. It’s absolutely fascinating that they created a Jedi that Fell but did nothing with it besides outright evil.

How other Jedi reacted to learning that a fellow Jedi betrayed everyone? How did the Republic?

I just wished they did more with him than just, yeah that dude was a dick and killed clones.

Yeah, it's one of the things I don't like as much about TCW, the extremely episodic nature of it means that there really is never any build-up to anything or lasting impact from anything. Unless it's happening within one of the 2-4 episode arcs, we RARELY get to see any kind of build-up or fallout. It's one of the major issues with Barriss, too, we see her ONCE in season 2 and she's calm, kind, methodical, and selfless. And then three seasons later in season 5 she's suddenly ruthless, selfish, doubting everything and everyone, merciless, etc. There is NO BUILD UP to that radical 180 to her character and there's no real exploration of how Ahsoka really feels about that particular betrayal afterwards, the focus in later episodes after the Wrong Jedi focuses only on Ahsoka feeling betrayed by the COUNCIL and her feelings about that. Nothing since TCW has ever touched it either (Rebels, Mandalorian, the Ahsoka show). Satine's death never really comes up again after it happens aside from Bo-Katan being an asshole. Obi-Wan goes from being totally fucked up about Maul coming back to being chill enough to take on Maul and Savage alone and winning without us getting to see him actually deal with those emotions.

Pong Krell and the Umbara arc IN GENERAL falls into this category easily (so do the Zyggeria and the Deception arc tbh). Krell is such a basic evil character, there's so little nuance to him and we never get to see the Jedi react to the revelation that one of their own turned at all. Dooku turned after he had already left the Order as far as any of them really know, but Krell was still IN the Order when he decided to betray them and it would've been really interesting to see the impact of that on them. It would've been ESPECIALLY interesting to explore that more during the Wrong Jedi arc in particular in how the Jedi feel like they can't trust their own people not to betray them anymore after Dooku and Krell.

Krell is presented with like. Zero nuance. He is just unequivocally evil and despite Anakin greeting him in a friendly way at the beginning, the visuals tell you this dude's no good right from his first appearance. There isn't really any chance that he's going to be a good guy at all. So all we are left with are headcanons.

And I remember discussing my Krell headcanons somewhere, but I think it might've been on a Discord server I've since left, so I unfortunately cannot find them again. So I'll try to remember them and immortalize them here, I guess.

Here's the thing about Krell. NO ONE suspects him. So he cannot be overtly acting like a bigoted asshole from the jump at any point, he HAS to be acting in such a way that it's not trickling out to the other clones and to the Jedi themselves that Krell is an absolute monster. Even Fives takes a moment to decide that Krell is suspicious and only brings up Krell's casualty numbers after he sees Krell's behavior for a minute and combines that knowledge with what he's now personally experiencing and is starting to come to conclusions based on that. He doesn't go into the relationship thinking Krell is worse than any other Jedi already.

And based on what we know of EVERY OTHER FALLEN JEDI (Dooku, Anakin, Barriss), they didn't start out as monsters. Dooku was a highly respected Jedi Master who seems to have had a really positive relationship with Yoda and Qui-Gon and simply became disillusioned with the Senate and his care for the people of the galaxy got twisted into something darker over time. Barriss was kind, selfless, compassionate, brave, and resourceful, and it was the war that caused her to start letting her fears and pain consume her into turning on the Jedi. Anakin was kind and spent years having his fears and doubts twisted into selfishness and greed and darkness that allowed him to justify murder and genocide for power. So it wouldn't make sense to me that Pong Krell wouldn't fall into the same pattern where he was once kind and good and selfless and brave, but that the circumstances surrounding the war caused him to lose faith and fall.

My headcanon is that he lost an entire battalion early in the war, much like we see happen to Plo Koon during the Malevolence arc and that that loss and failure just BROKE him. Krell DID care about the clones, he cared about his men, and he FAILED them all. And I think that he saw all of these clones dying by the dozens in all of the other battalions and instead of choosing to let go of his pain and fear and lean into his compassion, he chose to distance himself from them entirely to make it hurt less. If he didn't care about the clones, if he just saw them as the cannon fodder that the Senate treated them all as, then it would hurt less when they died. Maybe the Senate itself even dragged him over the coals for that initial loss. Or perhaps it was the opposite, maybe most of his battalion was killed, but it ultimately ended in a victory anyway because they were forced to just keep going despite the consequences. And so Krell decides to enter this mindset where he is disillusioned with the Senate and just CANNOT allow himself to care about the clones, because it won't change what the Senate is going to do to them anyway, so he may as well just treat them the same way.

And this wouldn't have happened overnight. It wouldn't have been a sudden 180 where he decided he was just going to treat them like shit. But he maybe decided to put some more professional distance between himself and his new battalion, not get close to them, not use their names (although he still knows them, still remembers them all). Maybe one day they're in a tricky situation and all of his options are bad, he HAS to sacrifice some of his men in order to salvage the situation at all, and it's a choice between a full retreat that he KNOWS the Senate won't take well, or sacrificing the men to achieve the victory. So he sacrifices the men. It's not an entire battalion, it's not even a whole company, but it's more than it would've been if he'd retreated. Maybe next time, there's a choice between going back to save some of the men even if it poses a risk to his own life or the mission or something, and he chooses not to go back for them because the mission is more important, or he rationalizes that his life is more important as the Jedi General. And it's just more and more little decisions like that that add up over time to being able to see the clones as nothing more than tools.

The disillusionment with the Senate leads to him sort-of agreeing with things Dooku and the Separatists have said and he can look at the war and realize that it's entirely possible that the Republic is going to LOSE, and he CANNOT be the one who loses again, so maybe he starts bouncing around the concept of maybe switching sides. And of course initially he rejects the idea. He's a Jedi, he won't just abandon the Republic, he can't be a traitor, who in the Separatist side would ever trust him anyway. But once that seed is planted, it doesn't go away and it keeps coming back up and he keeps finding ways to rationalize why it might be a good idea and then deciding not to do it over and over again. Until one day, he can't convince himself that it's a bad idea or that it wouldn't work. He tells himself it's the ONLY option, if he doesn't change sides then he's dead. But Dooku WON'T trust him unless he can prove that he's not on the Republic's side, so he has to come up with a plan to gain their trust. And what better way to earn that trust than to ensure a Separatist victory in an important campaign by double-crossing the Republic.

And once he's chosen to go down that path, it's even EASIER to stop caring about the clones because, well, they're all dead anyway. The Republic is going to lose, the clones are all dead men walking no matter what, so why bother caring about them or trying to keep them alive? He can't lose so often that the Jedi or the Senate become suspicious of him, of course, but it's REALLY easy then to get to Umbara and treat the clones like crap and turn them against each other and intentionally try to get them all killed. They're dead anyway, he's not the one killing them really, is he, the Senate is, the Jedi are, the war is. They were dead from the moment they were created in that test tube because they were created for this specific purpose. It's not his fault.

And much like Barriss turns against the Jedi in part because she did LOVE the Jedi and was devastated by what she saw happening to them and the pain of seeing her people forced to become something they were never supposed to be, as much as her actions were intended as some kind of message to try to sort-of save the Jedi from a course of action she saw as their downfall, I think that Krell turns on the clones because at some point he DID care about them. A lot. And that care became his downfall, the pain at what was being done to them just absolutely gutted him and it threw him down a path that ultimately led him to turn against the very people whose deaths had hurt him so badly just a few short years ago.

Krell might not have been the most effusive or emotional person prior to the war or anything, he might've been a more reserved person similar to Mace or Dooku or Luminara, but I think he probably was a perfectly good Jedi who was kind and selfless and compassionate once upon a time.

And none of the headcanons above have even touched what his relationships with other JEDI must have been like. It's just as possible that he did have friends and people he considered family among the Jedi. Maybe he had a padawan once at some point. And maybe all of those people had died by the time we get to Umbara. Maybe he had to watch a lot of the people he was closest to just fall like flies, and so it starts feeling like nothing matters. Maybe one of the Jedi who died on Geonosis was a former padawan of his, but Krell himself obviously wasn't there and the pain of THAT loss and the guilt he feels at not having been there (even though this padawan had been knighted for a while and there was a good reason Krell wasn't there that day) just sticks with him, too, and he never quite manages to let that go, either.

I think a lot of people choose to just headcanon Krell as having just always been kind-of an asshole even when he was a Jedi, but that doesn't work for me. If Krell was always an asshole, I feel like the Jedi would've stepped in at some point before the war even HAPPENED and tried to manage that situation. And it doesn't match up with the way pretty much every other fallen Jedi has ever been written, where they were GOOD PEOPLE once upon a time who saw awful things happen that they couldn't stop or had an awful thing happen TO them that they couldn't stop and the pain of that experience consumes them to the point that they spiral into darkness as a result. Krell should be the same way, which means he likely was a perfectly good normal Jedi before the war. He would've been kind, he might've been good with younglings (he's tall, maybe he was the one the younglings went to all the time for piggy back rides, maybe he often taught dual wielding to padawans who asked because of how clearly proficient he is at it), he might've taught a student of his own successfully, he would've been wise and selfless and compassionate, he would've loved the Jedi and the people of the galaxy.

Like, to be frank, if Tales of the Jedi HAD to explore a fallen Jedi story, they should've explored Krell instead of Dooku. Dooku has been explored before, we know quite a lot about him and his motivations and his backstory, but Krell, as you noted, is left a mystery and is stuck in the realm of being just purely evil for the sake of the story they were telling in this one arc. Krell needed more nuance in a way Dooku just did not.

#star wars #pong krell #tcw #the clone wars #umbara #umbara arc #krell

111 notes · View notes

haddonfieldwhore · 4 months

Text

right here - matthew tkachuk

matthew tkachuk x reader

hands to myself part 2 - part 1 is here <3

summary: after all the years of friendship, matthew is the only one you can’t hide things from

warnings: big angst, mention of injuries, language, one use of y/n

word count: 2.5k words

physically, you were currently out to dinner with your best friend matthew, as well as nick cousins and his wife nina, sam bennett, carter verhaeghe, and sasha barkov on the panthers day off. mentally however, you were elsewhere, your mind hung up on something you had read in the comments of a youtube video you had stumbled upon earlier that day.

‘too bad he only broke his sternum and not his neck. maybe we wouldn’t have to watch him play”

you were watching some of matty’s highlights as you often did, and you tried, you really tried to stay out of the comment sections, as you knew he wasn’t the most popular guy among non panthers fans. you were used to negativity directed at him, and despite your best efforts to not let the opinions of internet assholes get under your skin, they burrowed their way underneath it like a tick. what made comments like this sting even worse, was the amount of people underneath them that agreed, celebrating and enjoying the fact that he got hurt. you read through countless comments wishing more harm upon the curly haired boy who was currently sat next you you, until you felt like you were drowning reading it all.

“hey, you good?” matt whispered in your ear, and you were pulled back into the present by the feeling of his hand on your thigh under the table. no one else seemed to notice that you had zoned out, completely absent from the conversation happening at the table. but matthew knew you too well, you had been friends for so long, there was nothing you could hide from him.

“yeah, sorry - just tired,” you lied anyway, and he didn’t press the subject any further, but the continued presence of his touch on your leg told you without words that the conversation wasn’t over.

•

you were back at your hotel room alone, excusing yourself from the after-dinner party at verhaeghe’s hotel room with the excuse of a headache. you had a long shower, hoping the hot water would wash away some of the bad feelings, but they remained like a stain on a white carpet, impossible to scrub out. after your eyes began to turn red from the heat, you finally stepped out and wrapped a soft towel around your body, like a security blanket, before drying off and getting dressed, throwing one of matthews t-shirts over your torso along with some pyjama shorts. wiping your eyes with a cool cloth to try and lessen the puffiness, you sighed as you stared at your reflection in the mirror, feeling mentally and physically exhausted. switching off the light you walked out of the bathroom and were almost at the bed when there was a knock at the door.

you considered ignoring it, you really did, but you knew who it would be, and while you didn’t want to talk about why you had acted so strange at dinner, your heart wanted to see him more than anything. there was in fact one thing you had managed to hide from matthew, that being the fact that your love for him had grown stronger than just a friendship, you felt - you knew - that he was your soulmate. whether he felt romantically for you or not, the two of you were meant to be next to each other for life.

you walked over and opened the door, to no surprise greeted by a familiar curly haired brunette.

“hey,” he said, walking into the room as you stepped to the side to let him past.

“hey - i was just heading to bed,” you said, and it wasn’t really a lie; you had planned to spend the rest of the night curled up under the safety of the slightly itchy duvet that covered the hotel bed. “i thought you were hanging out with the guys?”

“i stayed for a bit, but i wanted to check on you,” he explained, sitting in the leather arm chair in the corner of the room.

“well, there’s not really anything exciting going on here. you should go back,“ you suggested, unable to look at him while you knew you were ignoring the reason you knew he was here. instead, you readjusted the blanket and pillows on the bed about three times, before he spoke up.

“what happened at dinner?” he asked, and you closed your eyes, still not daring to face him.

“nothing happened at dinner,” you said, another not-lie, but not the answer he wanted.

“then what happened before that made you so upset?” he asked. “y/n, please look at me.”

“i told you - i was just tired. which is why i’m trying to go to sleep,” you insisted, turning around and looking at him quickly before your eyes fell to the floor.

“you didn’t wake up until 11 this morning, how are you tired?”

“jet lag-“ you shrugged, but he interrupted you.

“that’s bullshit and we both know it,” he spoke, but didn’t raise his voice. “please don’t shut me out. i know everything about you, you can tell me - whatever it is.” you looked up to meet his eyes that you could feel staring a hole into you, as you thought to yourself: almost everything.

the worried look in his face, his brows tilted above his blue eyes, made your own eyes fill with tears as everything you had bottled up bubbled up your throat like a cork popped off a bottle of champagne.

“i just - it’s stupid and i’m sorry for getting so upset but i -“ you were unable to stop the tears that fell down your face in salty little waterfalls as you fingers gripped the hem of your (his) shirt. “the things people say about you - i don’t understand how people can be so cruel. i know i shouldn’t care and what they say doesn’t matter but it hurts, matty. it kills me that people wish you would get hurt, or worse, and there’s nothing i can do about it,” you sobbed.

you hadn’t even realized that you had walked over to him until you were crawling into his lap, his arms pulling you close to him, a literal shoulder to cry on as he rubbed your back comfortingly. relief to be safe in his arms flooded over you, but the tears wouldn’t stop, your body shaking as you held into him like he would disappear if you let go.

“baby, just breathe okay? i’m right here; i’m okay,” he whispered. “did someone say something to you? because i swear if they did, i’ll-“

“no,” you sniffled, trying to calm yourself and for the love of god, stop crying. the fabric of his shirt was damp as you lifted your head up to look at him, his eyes filled with concern. if you weren’t such a mess, your heart would have skipped a beat at the nickname, but you couldn’t even think straight.

“what happened?”

“i know i shouldn’t, and i didn’t mean to, but i saw some comments online talking about how they wished you would get hurt again or worse and i just - i can’t bear the thought of anything happening to you. i know the risk of getting hurt comes with the game, but the things they were saying they wish would happen to you were so horrible matty,” you shuddered as the tears began to fall again, and he rested his forehead against yours, his hand sliding up your back to cradle the back of your head.

“i’m right here, i’m okay. nothing is going to happen to me, i promise,” he said softly, but you pulled back, shaking your head.

“don’t promise me that when you don’t know if you can keep it,” you begged. “i know you’re trying to make me feel better but you can’t guarantee that. i love you matty, i can’t lose you.”

“okay, i can’t promise that i won’t get hurt, because you’re right; it could happen. but i swear, i will always be right here. you won’t ever lose me,” he assured you. “and i love you too.”

just like the tears that flowed freely, so did the next words you spoke, unable to stop yourself.

“matthew, i am in love with you. i would do anything to keep you safe.” your heart pounded like a drum against your ribcage as he stared at you, processing what you had said.

“you’re in love with me?” he asked, looking for confirmation.

“i am. and it’s okay, if you don’t feel the same way, it doesn’t have to change anything, i just can’t carry it around without telling you anymore-“ you were interrupted by his lips on yours, so softly you almost thought you imagined it, like he was scared he would break you if he kissed you too hard. as quickly as it happened he pulled away, the salty taste of your tears staining his lips, and your breath caught in your throat as you stared at him with wide eyes, the tears finally stopping.

“you love me,” he whispered, the new weight of the words sounding foreign but welcome to his ears.

“i love you,” you agreed, and he smiled, and your hands played with the fabric of his sweater nervously.

“i love you so much,” he breathed, and your heart felt like it was going to explode, the enormous weight lifted off your shoulders making you feel like you were floating. he removed his arms from around your back only to bring his hands up your face, wiping the tears from under your tired eyes with the pads of his thumbs.

“you do?” you asked, hoping this wasn’t some sick joke, but knowing that matthew would never hurt you like that.

“of course i do. how could i not, you’re everything to me,” he leaned forward and kissed your forehead softly, and you laughed softly, half in relief and half in shock. he loves me back, you thought, butterflies erupting in your stomach. “there’s the sound i want to hear,” he smiled, relieved to hear laughter instead of tears, as he hugged you right to his chest again.

“i didn’t know if you felt the same,” you mumbled, your voice muffled by his hoodie as your face was buried in the crook of his neck.

“i didn’t know if you did,” he countered, and you breathed deeply, inhaling his scent, one that always seemed to calm you down. “baby, i’m sorry you had to read that shit,” he said softly. “i know it’s hard, but try not to let it get to you-“

“but it does-“

“i know, i know it does. it gets to me too sometimes. but try; for me, okay? i hate seeing you upset like this, especially over what some nobody-asshole said online.”

“okay,” you took another deep breath. “i’ll try, i promise.” if you had to throw your phone in the ocean to keep that promise, you would.

“thank you. let me get you some water, you’re probably dehydrated from crying so much-“ he went to get up, but you clung to him like a koala, keeping him firmly planted in the chair.

“please, just.. hold me for a little longer first?” you begged shamelessly, and his body shook slightly as he laughed.

“anything you want.”

•

after some water and a selection of your favourite snacks that matthew had grabbed from the vending machine, as well as a good night sleep cuddled next to him, you felt infinitely better in the morning. you and matthew had slept in pretty late, and only had had to leave soon so he could be at the arena on time for practice.

“so - i know it’s kind of- idk - are we still just friends, or…” you asked as the two of you got dressed, matthew conveniently able to grab one of many shirts of his you has stolen from your suitcase. he walked over to you, his hands resting on your waist as he looked at your lips, before his eyes met yours.

“is that what you want?” he raised an eyebrow, and you shook your head. “good. then you’re mine,” he smiled, leaning down to kiss you. your hands tangled through his curls as you deepened the kiss. there was a smile on both of your faces when you separated, unable to break the eye contact as you silently told eachother just how long you’d been waiting to share that kiss.

“and you’re mine.”

“of course i am.”

“do we tell anyone yet?” you asked, okay with either answer, just wanting to be sure.

“we can tell anyone you want,” he smiled, kissing your lips one more time before sliding his shoes on. “but right now i’m late for practice, and i kinda want you there, you are my good luck charm after all.”

“i’ve been at plenty of games where you guys lose,” you laughed, following him out into the hallway.

“yeah, well maybe i just want you there,” he admitted, lacing his fingers through yours as you walked side by side. you leaned your head against matthew’s shoulder, and he placed a kiss on the top of your head.

nick and nina were following you towards the elevator when the blonde gave her husband a knowing glance, nudging him in the ribs lightly as she pointed to your interlocked hands.

“hey,” you greeted them happily as the joined you outside the elevator, waiting as it came up to your floor.

“hey you two. you seemed a little down at dinner last night, is everything okay?” nina asked, and you nodded.

“yeah, sorry, i just wasn’t feeling great. but i’m okay now,” the smile was stuck on your face as matthew squeezed your hand. nick sent him a sideways glance, before looking down at your hands and back up at matthew, who sent him a wink.

“she called it,” nick laughed, and you jumped slightly as nina let out a excited gasp.

“wait really! i told you they were in love!” she bumped her shoulder against nicks playfully as he raised his hands in surrender.

“why do i have a strange feeling we were the last to know?” matthew laughed, but it didn’t matter. even if it had taken a while, you had finally figured it out.

“was it really that obvious?” you asked, and the four of you laughed as nina and nick both nodded.

“yeah, but it was kind of cute, watching you both be so oblivious all this time,” she added. you looked up at matt, who was already looking down at you, and he pulled you into a hug, his chin resting on top of your head. you smiled to yourself, unsure of how you had gone from being so miserable to so happy in a span of 12 hours, but quickly realized that the reason was standing right next to you; and he wasn’t going anywhere.

disclaimer: all screenshots, events, and/or interactions depicted in this are a work of fiction. i have no association with any parties mentioned

#matthew tkachuk x reader #matthew tkachuk fic #matthew tkachuk imagine #matthew tkachuk #florida panthers #nhl imagine #nhl players #nhl fic #nhl #nhl hockey #real person fiction #hockey fic #hockey

196 notes · View notes