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#my heart is shattered on the floor because of these two
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Guardian of My Heart || Leah Williamson
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based on this request here! it's not that long but i loved writing this so much so i hope y'all like it!
warnings : angst with happy ending. mentions of injury.
“And that’s the final whistle folks, Chelsea takes this game with a comfortable 3-1 win over the Gunners here at Stamford Bridge.”
Leah’s eyes fill with tears at the final whistle. Her heart shatters audibly in her chest. A game they needed to win to have a chance at the title, thrown away by silly mistakes and sloppy football. She walks around the pitch in shame, apologizing to all the Gooners in the stands who came only to see them fail.
“I’m sorry,” she says to the crowd, tears falling down her face. The rest of the girls do the same, making their way to the stands to thank fans and sign jerseys. The home side erupts in a painful cry of victory, one that makes Leah’s chest almost cave in on itself.
The changing room is silent except for the sound of bags being packed and the muted drumming of water on the floor from the showers. One by one the girls make their way to the bus, offending socks from the wardrobe mishap filling the trash bin in the locker room.
Leah sulks when she hears the girls all planning to see their partners at home and just forget today’s game. She just jammed her AirPods into her ears and played her country music loudly, hoping the gaping hole of loneliness in her chest would go away with the serenading words of Luke Combs.
She knew her house would be lonely. She knew her house would be quiet. She knew her house would be dark. There was no one waiting. The person she wanted most would not be there. There was only one person to blame for that.
“Leah, you can’t keep doing this to me!” you yelled, rounding the coffee table as Leah stumbled into the house at twenty past three on a Saturday. You came over at eight thinking Leah would be home since she promised to help you cook dinner and enjoy the Bachelor finale on TV together. Instead, you walked into her apartment with your spare key to an empty house and her bedroom a mess. Her makeup was all over the bathroom and she had clearly changed her shoes at least three times.
You waited and waited for her to get home, calling the Arsenal girls to figure out where she had gone. They felt sorry for you and tried to get Leah to go home to you but she said something that the moment it left her lips, your heart broke into pieces.
“You’re such a fucking needy bitch, get off my back for once!”
You don’t know why you still sat in her living room for three more hours and waited for her to get home. You knew you needed to know she was home safe. That she was okay. That she didn’t choke on her own vomit from drinking too much. Because despite being her second choice for a while now, you still loved the England skipper. You still love Leah Williamson.
Leah drove home in pin-drop silence. Her kit bag was thrown in the back to be dealt with later, her arm on the door holding her head up as the streets of London were a blur. She parked in her spot and walked out like a zombie, not noticing your car in her driveway and her porch light on.
The key turned easily and she walked into her house to the turntable on low and the smell of smileys and a roast coming from the kitchen. She looked down and saw a pair of shoes that she recognized and a voice that was singing along to the music that she had fallen asleep to a million times.
“Y/N?” Leah spoke aloud, toeing her shoes off and dropping her kit bag. She shuffled into the kitchen and saw you standing there at the stove, stirring in the roasting tray and making a gravy. There were two plates on the island she instantly knew which one was hers. You turn and give her a soft smile, pushing your chin out to gesture her to sit. She does and grabs the bottle of wine you’ve set out and pours the two glasses full of Cabernet.
“What are you doing here?” she asks, grabbing a smiley off the plate she knew was hers and nibbling on the cheek.
“I wanted to make sure you had something to eat,” you answer curtly as you put the whisk down and grab a gravy boat, smiling to yourself when you still remember where it was.
“Y/N,” Leah says sternly, putting her half-eaten smiley down.
You turn and put the gravy boat next to the roast, finally looking at your ex-girlfriend.
“I needed to know that you were okay, after today.”
“Why?” Leah asks, voice carrying a lilt of guilt with fresh tears filling her eyes.
You walked around the island and turned the skipper in her seat to face you. You held her face in your hands, wiping the tears that fell. You had been in this situation before when Leah tore her ACL.
“You’re going to be okay, Leah.”
“What if I never play like I used to ever again?”
“You don’t ever need to worry about that because you will. The Leah Williamson I know never gives up.”
She chuckles but more fear settles in her heart. Leah looks up at you at the very island she’s sitting at right now.
“I’m scared,” she admits sheepishly, looking defeated and terrified. You cup her face and wipe the tear stains off her face.
“You will get through this Leah and I will be there every step of the way.”
“You won’t leave? They always leave.”
“I would never. I love you.”
“I love you too,” she whispers back to you before you kiss her, her mind willing itself to get better. If not for her, for you.
Zach Bryan’s voice fills the room softly, the lyrics of ‘Tourniquet’ “take care of the blood that your love runs through” remind you of why you packed up a roast and stopped at the shops for a bag of frozen smileys. It reminds you of all the nights you massaged her leg when it was feeling tight. It reminds you of all the nights when you sat beside her and held her close while she cried at another delay in her recovery. It reminds you of all the nights you spent awake with her when she couldn’t sleep because of the pain.
Was it worth it? Yes.
Would you do it all over again? Yes.
Leah breaks down when her eyes meet yours. The smell of your perfume and your musk flood her senses with all the reasons why she was in love with you all those years. Deep down inside she knew she still felt that way and hoped that you did too.
Leah cries. The pain of losing, hurting her hamstring just as she’s called to the England squad for the first time since her ACL, and the overwhelming sense of disappointment burst the moment you held her in your arms again. It was home and it was safe. Leah clung onto your hoodie and made a right mess on the front but you didn’t care. Leah needed you and you wished you could take away her pain.
“I just wasn’t me out there today and that cost us the game,” Leah muttered after calming herself down and her hiccups stopped.
“Today wasn’t just your fault, honey,” you cooed, taking the hair tie out of Leah’s hair and combing your fingers through her blonde locks. She rested her head against your stomach and closed her eyes, zeroing in on your touch.
“I let the team down,” she countered, pulling you closer to her.
“It just wasn’t anyone’s day today, my love,” you cupped her face and wiped more of the tears that were about to fall from her eyes. You leaned in a little and were a bit unsure, but feeling her nudge herself towards you gave you the approval you sought.  
Her lips felt familiar against yours.
Salty.
Warm.
Recognizable.
Home.
She chased your lips and melted into them, gripping your wet hoodie like her life depended on it or that you would vanish if she let go, even for a second.
“I’m sorry I treated you the way I did, you don’t deserve that. I don’t deserve you.”
“You deserve someone willing to love you for you, Leah,” you reassure her and seal it with a kiss, walking away from her to chuck the roast back in the oven to warm up for a bit and her smileys into the air fryer for a little reheating.
Zach’s voice fills the blanks when you look at her blue eyes, her features blow you away every time you look at her. You bled your whole soul into things you can't control; in a world you'll never satisfy brings Leah back to reality. The game today was good. It didn’t go their way from the beginning with those wretched socks and their delayed start but they gave it their all. It was a lesson to be learned and one to look back on when the team had lost its spark.
Leah scoffs down half the roast and convinces you to throw a couple more smiley into the air fryer for her to drown in your delicious gravy. You put a fresh toothbrush next to hers in her bathroom and have a glass of warm milk on your bedside waiting for you like you like.
“You remembered,” you tell her as she hands you a ratty jersey for you to sleep in. You throw it on and inhale her delicate scent, your heart filling with warmth and ease.
“I still set it out sometimes you know, especially after you left.”
“You’ll have to try and remember again now, I think,” you tease, and she stands in front of you. You sip on your milk and she kisses the foam mustache off your lips.
“I’ll never forget, my love. Ever.”
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kabuki-toon · 2 years
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Ennead- Anubis & Seth
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suuuupernovaaa · 9 months
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Treat | Hobie Brown x f!Reader
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Your innocent image is shattered when Hobie finds your hidden piercing.
Art credit.
Requested by @friedturtlewhispers. Essentially this, with a different piercing.
Mature. Smut. 18+.
The show hasn't been over for two minutes yet when I feel two strong hands on my waist, gripping tight and pulling me backwards. I nearly spill my drink on the already sticky floor of this underground bar as Hobie spins me around, and brings his lips crashing down on to mine.
"Oh!" I let out a muffled gasp of surprise, and feel Hobie's lips turn up into a smile as they still rest against mine. He pulls away, and takes my drink out of my hand. He brings it to his nose, and takes a sniff. "Gin?" He wrinkles his nose, and I open my mouth to defend my choice, but he's already downed it in one gulp.
"Let's get out of here," he says, grabbing my hand and pulling.
"Oh, okay - bye!" I say over my shoulder to the guy I was talking to at the bar - a big fan of the band, who stands with his jaw agape. I find it awkward to mention that I'm sort of, semi, casually but not really casually, dating a band member. It feels like bragging, probably because I'm so proud of it.
We're outside in the cool night air before I know it, and there's a ringing in my ears from the show.
"Did you like it?" Hobie asks as we turn right, heading towards my apartment.
"I always like it," I reply, squeezing his hand. "Why did we leave so fast?"
He leans over, smirking down at me. "I want to be alone with you."
--
As I flop back onto the couch, I hand Hobie the beer he requested. He takes it, and immediately leans forward, setting it on the coffee table. before even taking a drink.
Unable to help myself, I pick it up and place it on the coaster that was only inches away.
Hobie rolls his eyes, but he's smiling. "You can't spend your whole life cleaning up after me."
I shrug. "Sure I can."
He bumps his shoulder into mine, and I lean back into him. Even though I enjoy spending the weekends out with Hobie, lingering in the bars after his shows until the wee hours, it feels so much more my speed to be back home before midnight, relaxed on the couch, just the two of us.
"This is nice," I say with a contented sigh. Hobie's feet are up on the coffee table, and my legs are crossed, one of my knees resting in his lap. He runs his fingers over my bare leg, starting on my shin and up over my knee. The lights are off, and the dull light of a horror film is the only thing lighting the room. I don't really like scary movies, but Hobie enjoys them as background noise.
I lay my head on his shoulder as his hand moves further up, brushing against the fabric of my skirt, and pausing for a moment as if to ask for permission.
We've been seeing each other for a while, enjoying each other's company and getting to know each other, but physically, it hasn't gone all that far. It almost has, a few times, but Hobie's always had some emergency to attend to.
I feel a little foolish... but I'd almost like to be able to call him my boyfriend before we go any further. I know we're adults, but the label means something to me, anyway.
When I don't protest, his fingers snake up under my skirt, leaving goosebumps in their wake. My breathing is coming more rapidly now, my heart pounding, and his fingers are almost at my panties now. I'm stiff as a board, tense, waiting for his next move.
"Before we... can I ask you something?" I say.
"Anything, love," he replies, but doesn't move his hand. He's tracing soft circles on my inner thigh, and it's hard to gather my thoughts. I remove my head from his shoulder so I can look at him.
His eyes are dark, his lips parted just slightly, and when I glance down, I see the bulge in his pants. I feel an ache in my lower stomach, and wetness between my thighs.
"Are you, or like, am I your..." The words are going as fast as they're coming, and my mouth is dry.
"You're my girl. My only girl. I'm yours." His words are assertive, sure, and his gaze is locked steadily on mine.
I grab his shirt, pulling him to me for a desperate kiss, so elated with his words and so beyond ready for him to do absolutely anything he wants to me.
Leaning back to lay on the couch, I pull him so that he's on top of me, he settles between my legs while his tongue explores my mouth.
His hand finds its way up my thigh again, and runs underneath the waistband of my underwear. His thumb dips down and brushes softly over my clit, and I gasp.
So does he.
"What's that?" he asks, and a blush settles over my cheeks. He sits up just a little, so he can look me in the eyes. "Is that a... piercing?"
I purse my lips a little and nod. "Yes."
"Fuck me, Y/N." He brings his mouth back to mine with twice the fervor of before, and pulls my panties to the side as he does, running two warm fingers over my clit, down to my entrance, and back. "I can't believe... you have that pierced. Oh, fuck, I'm so hard," he moans into my mouth, and I arch my back off the couch as he uses his fingers to trace circles around my piercing.
"Oh, Hobie," I moan, grasping his back. He sits up suddenly, removing his hand from me, and I collapse back onto the couch in a huff.
He takes his vest and shirt off, and then pulls my panties and skirt down over my legs. There isn't a moment to breath before his face is between my legs, and he takes my clit into his mouth, sucking and biting gently, then dragging his tongue down to my entrance to gather the wetness that is quickly forming there.
"Hobie!" I gasp, holding his shoulders tightly. He doesn't let up. He brings up two fingers, teasing at my entrance as he takes my clit back into his mouth, and pushes them gently inside me. "Oh, God," I moan, pressing down onto his fingers as they fuck me.
He's making the most delicious noises, humming and grunting and moaning as he works, showing me no mercy. I feel absolutely desperate with need, and every time he thrusts his fingers in, I grind down on them.
"Oh, god, oh, shit," I gasp as he brings me closer and closer to the edge. He rolls the piercing around his mouth with expert precision, working delicately and then biting down, keeping me always guessing, driving me to ecstasy.
He pulls away just for a moment to look up at me. "Cum for me," he demands, and when he brings his lips back to my swollen mound, I explode. I scream his name as I do, unashamedly loud in my orgasm, and he continues his assault, giving me wave after wave of pleasure, until I am absolutely exhausted.
He brings his head up to mine, and grabs my chin, forcing me to look at him.
"What the fuck, Y/N?" he says with a teasing smile, and kisses me firmly. "That's a hell of a surprise."
I grin shyly back at him. "That's the point."
"You're so... innocent. Your ears aren't even pierced! You almost never swear. You go to church, for christ sake!"
I roll my eyes. "Only on holidays with my parents."
"Still," he replies with a laugh. "What a fuckin' treat."
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fieldofdaisiies · 6 months
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Just A Little Bit of Your Heart
ship: Azriel x Reader type: angst word count: 2,4k  warnings: curse words, mentions of a one night stand, unexpected pregnancy summary: It was just a one night stand, or that is what you thought... fic masterlist
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"The baby will have wings!" 
Your hands tremble. And they tremble so much the plate you are holding slips out them, and then shatters when it hits the floor. Splinters fly everywhere, but your best friend is quick to shove you away.
She is faster than you, gently shoving you away before you can lean down to collect the shards. "Not in your current state! Let me do this."
You huff. "I am pregnant, not fragile or ill," you say, still dried tears on your cheeks, and more burning behind your eyes. 
"Yes, with a winged baby, because this fool did not pay attention." There is so much fury inside of your best friend, you have never seen this side of her before, her voice drips with venom. 
"For making a baby it always needs two people. I am not innocent in this." You crouch down and help your best friend collect the shards of broken glass and—
"Fuck!" You lift your index finger to your mouth, licking the droplet of blood away. 
"I told you to let me do this, you are hurting yourself and—" "And what? They baby will still have wings and I will still be pregnant. I just cut my finger, nothing dramatic."
You swallow thickly, slumping onto the ground. You immediately regret your tone and snapping at your best friend. She only wants to help and be there for you…
But it is so much to deal with and then the hormones just intensify everything you are feeling.
The fear, the apprehension about the baby having with wings and the prospect of having to raise the child by yourself, should you survive the birth, finally reach the surface. You tried hide these emotion for so long, but now you fail — they all bubble up, overwhelming you.
You lean against the kitchen counter behind you, pulling your knees up and fold your hands over your face.
Then the damn breaks, tears running out of your eyes, rolling down your cheeks as you sob into your hands. 
"I am so scared," you bawl. 
Your best friend has already scooted over, careful of the broken pieces of porcelain, and wraps her arm around your shoulders. She pulls you to her chest, letting you cry into her shirt. "I know that the babe has wings, the healer confirmed it. And I am just working in this little shop, I don't earn enough to take care of the child alone."
Your tears wet her shirt, and your best friend holds you tightly, her hand clasping your upper arm. She is becoming your anchor, the only thing you can hold onto in this moment.
"It was so foolish. He said he took the tonic. I also drank the tea the same morning, and neither of those things worked. Conceiving for fae is so difficult, why…"
Your voice breaks and you can't finish your sentence, your throat is dry, burns and the back of your mouth aches. 
"It wasn't foolish. You were both careful, and it just happened." Your best friend's voice is softer now, although inside of her a burning fire of fury about the shadowsinger putting a baby that could harm you inside of you. It could cost you your life and she would never forgive him for that.
You exhale a long breath when you lift your head a little, still leaning onto your friend. You rest your head against her shoulder, staring at the window opposite you. 
A veil of grey is being drawn over the sky, dark clouds passing by — rain is about to start. You keep staring at the window, sitting in silence as the first raindrops start to fall, landing gently on the window pane. You watch as the rain intensifies, and the sky darkens further until heavy rain pours down and wind whips agains the windows and the walls of the apartment building you are living in. 
The atmosphere outside mirrors the whirlwind inside of you, the storm brewing there, the cold and gloomx atmosphere.
There are so many emotions. And these emotions, mostly fear and nervousness, mingle with the hormones that actually make you so very happy that your are growing a little babe inside of you, but at the dame time so sad that the child will have to grow up without a father.
The whole previous evening you spent staring at your round belly in the mirror, sobbing silently to yourself.
With the big wool sweaters you always wear the belly is barely visible, but when naked, one can obviously see the growing bump. 
You best friend draws in a deep inhale and leans her head against the top of yours. 
"You need to talk to him," she says in a soft voice. "And before you protest, I say so because first of all, he has a right to know. And secondly, and most importantly, he might be able to help you."
You sniff loudly. "How should he help me?"
"The High Lord, who he is close with, has a son with wings. And our High Lady is also only fae, so there must be a possibility."
"What if he wants nothing to do with me?"
"Then you at least tried."
"Don't you think I will only be hurt more?"
You lift your head to look at her. There is a small smile on her lips, one that conveys support and warmth, her eyes shining with empathy.
She shakes her head. "You still have me. I won't leave you alone with this. I never would. But you still have to tell him."
You don't want to do it, you don't want to face Azriel, don't want to tell him, but you know she is right. You have to do it. He has a right to know.
This was a one night stand. 
You somehow caught the male's attention in a small bar in Velaris, and somehow he ended up in your bed. When you woke up, Azriel slipped into his trousers and out of your flat within a few moments. He was gone without a word, disappeared into the shadows, and you haven't heard from him since. You don't even know how to contact him. 
You don't know where he lives? Does he live with the High Lord? Or in this huge house on the mountain? With the general of the Illyrian armies and his mate?
"I don't know what to say to him," you whisper. 
The rain outside intensifies. Your friend uncurls her arm from around your shoulder, bringing it forward so she can clasp your hand in hers. 
She places a soft kiss to the top of your head and in a calm voice she says, "Tell him what you told me. That you don't understand how it happened and that you are afraid and want nothing more than his help."
"What if I want more than that?" You bite back a sob and turn your head a little.
"What if I want a little part of his heart. For the baby. If it—if we survive this, I want my baby to have a father. I want my baby to know its father." A single tear slips our of your eye and your friend quickly wipes it away with her thumb. 
"That is something to think about in the future. You need to think about yourself now, sweetie. You matter now, everything else is open for the future."
You nod, trying to agree with her, but the thoughts about the possibility of the baby never meeting its father are gnawing on you. 
And they keep gnawing on you the whole night where you lie awake, shifting and turning, your back aching, and tears still wetting your cheeks and pillow. 
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
Cold sweat coats your back, your palms. Your knees wobble, and your whole body trembles as you lift your hand, drawing in a deep inhale. Then another. And another. Your hand rests on the cool door handle, but you can't bring yourself to pull it down. 
He really came.
You can hardly believe it. He got your letter, and he is truly here. Until a few moments ago, you doubted it. You did not think he would really follow your invite. You were very vague in your letter, only mentioned that if he remembers you you would have something important to discuss with him. It could have been a trap, but he must have recognised the urgency in your wording, must habe known he could trust you.
Drawing in another breath, you finally pull down the handle and your lips part as your eyes land on him. 
He is…still the most beautiful male you have ever seen in your life, covered in darkness and shadows, expression stoic, eyes glowing with curiosity.
But he came!
"You came," you whisper, voice trembling.
Your heart beats in your throat, hammering so fast and hard you think it might burst right through your ribcage. 
It was just a one-night stand, a fleeting moment of passion, but you still remember him so vividly. How he touched you, how he kissed you, how he held you. And how he left. You felt used and sad after it, but you shouldn't have. Both of you only wanted fun for a night, but still it somehow hurt when he left.
"You called." His voice is flat, no emotion in it as he speaks. His face is not necessarily cold, but nonchalant, emotionless.
Azriel is nothing but darkness as he stands there, shadows swirling around him, stretching out towards you.
He eyes you closely, jaw clenched slightly.
You barely know him, only know his body, but he is now connected to you in the most profound way possible. You carry a part of him inside of you. Your child. His child. 
Azriel's face is a mask of unreadable emotions, some clouds darken his eyes and you can’t tear your eyes away from his.
"I wasn't sure you if you—" "I do remember you."
Something, some unreadable emotion passes over his face, and a muscle in his jaw ticks. His hands, those scarred hands you felt all over your body, are folded behind his back, and he stands in a stance, almost like he is ready to fight whatever is about to come. A stern warrior, and not the passionate male you lay with. 
"Come in?" you say, your voice trembling slightly as you step aside to let him enter. Azriel hesitates, but eventually he walks in, gaze wary as it sweeps through the inside of your room. He is looking for possible danger, making sure the place is safe and you can't blame him for it. Your invite must have sound cryptic, he is careful and that is alright. 
"Why did you invite me?" Azriel asks, finally speaking up and taking the weight from your shoulder to open the conversation. 
You are wringing for the right words to explain it all as you lead him over to the kitchen counter. You lean against it, your gaze moving to his eyes.
You drop your glamour, and try to hold his gaze, but suddenly Azriel starts to sniff the air, his brows furrowing as he looks around him. It almost looks like understanding dawns on him, whirlwinds of emotions glowing in his eyes. He must sense it in this moment.
"I am with child!" you blurt out. 
The words are so loud in the room, they bounce off the walls and hollow through the room. Through your mind, making you feel dizzy for a second. 
You move your hand over your round belly, smoothing out the sweater, to show him the bump. 
 The silence that follows is deafening, broken only by the sound of your own ragged breaths. 
Azriel says nothing, his face pales, his shoulders slump, and his whole expression and posture crumbles. 
He blinks, as if trying to process what you have just revealed. Although his face is unreadable, you can see the storm of emotions swirling beneath the surface. 
"Is it mine?" he asks and you want to face-palm him. You would do it, if it were under different circumstances. 
"Of course, it is yours. The babe has wings!"
The tone you have chosen wasn't alright, he could not have known, you could have been with other males…but why would you invite him and tell him then?
This revelation shatters him truly. Azriel begins to vehemently shake his head, like he can feel the weight of what the baby having wings means.
"No," he whispers, and then repeats the word over and over again. He brings a hand up, brushes his hair back and shakes his head again. "No, that can't be. You took the tonic, I did too. How did that happen?"
"I also don't have an explanation, I only know that I am with child now. A baby with wings." Your chin quivers, lower lip starting to tremble. You feel how your body begins to shake, blood rushing in your ears.
"And I am afraid." 
Once again the damn breaks, and a sob rips itself free.
Azriel says nothing, just stands there. 
"I understand that it is a lot to take in, that this is difficult, but I needed to tell you." 
You suck in a sharp breath, your tears tasting salty in your mouth. "I just thought you deserved to know. It was a one-night stand, and I never planned for any of this to happen, but it did, and I can't keep it a secret from you." 
You feel so vulnerable in this moment, your heart cracking open, everything inside you convulsing. 
It somehow angers you that he says nothing, but you had more time to deal with the newly learned information, he only found out now. Maybe he just needs more time to process. 
"I don't know what to say," he admits, his voice softer, and for the first time he lets his own emotions show, vulnerability flashing brightly in his eyes. "This is... unexpected. Overwhelming."
You nod, biting down on your lower lip. With the back of your hand you wipe away some tears. 
"I don't expect anything from you, I just…if the baby and I survive this, all I am asking for is a little bit of your heart. Not for me, for the babe."
Your voice is so terribly shaky, tears welling up in your eyes again as you try to hold his gaze. "I didn't expect it either," you whisper, wiping away a tear. "But I want the baby to know its father. If it ever comes to that."
Azriel is the one to suck in a breath now, the weight of his own childhood crashing down on him. Everything, every little pain when he was a child, bubbles up inside of him and his body starts to shake. 
The room is filled with a heavy silence once more. It feels like the walls are moving in on you, the room growing smaller and smaller, almost suffocating you.
As you wait for his response, your heart still races, but now it's not just with fear. There's a glimmer of hope, a spark of possibility that maybe, just maybe, he will grant you this wish and be a father for the child if it comes to that. 
"We are going to see my healer, the High Lord's healer. She knows about wings, she knows about babes with wings. You are not alone in this."
Azriel's steps are so fast, so unexpected, he hesitates for a moment, but suddenly his arms wrap around your shoulders and he embraces you tightly, his chin coming to a rest on top of your head. 
"I am not leaving you alone in this. It comes as a shock and I am sorry about my reaction, but this child is as much mine as it is yours, and it will have a part of my heart." His arm wraps around you tighter. "It will have my whole heart." 
He swallows, his chest heaving with a deep inhale and your curl your own arms around him, loud sobs ripping themselves free, muffled in the fabric of his shirt. "And so will you."
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mvybanks · 1 year
Text
you drew stars around my scars
summary: when your boyfriend leaves you after finding out about your pregnancy, your best friend is not scared to take his place and show you how you and your baby deserve to be loved. (bestfriend!jj x pregnant!reader)
a/n: SHES HERE!!! i know that technically it wasn’t requested but by all of the asks i’ve gotten on this particular storyline, i had to! you guys have no idea how many times i had to do a research about pregnancy, i had to delete my google history😫 anyway, there’s a quote from friends from when rachel was pregnant AND the whole birth scene is just rachel giving birth because i have no idea how that works and friends was my only solution. i hope you guys like it!!! feedback is really appreciated <33
warnings: toxic and abusive ex, unwanted pregnancy, ANGST, mentions of sex (sfw), making out, reader goes into labour and gives birth (natural)
word count: 9.9k (i’m dead help)
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“i’m pregnant,” the conversation keeps replaying in your head, mocking you.
his voice is still clear in your mind, his laugh, so full of venom, “you can’t be pregnant.”
“i am, nathan. i took like ten tests, they’re all positive.”
and that look he gave you, as if you were scum, “that’s not my problem. you should’ve been more careful!” he yelled, starting to scare you.
“i didn’t mean this to happen. listen, we can-“
“there’s no we, no us!” the glass he had in his hand shattered on the wall beside you, for he had thrown it with force; had he tried to hit you?
“you’re not gonna trap me with a kid.”
“trap you? nathan, this is also your kid! it takes two people to-“ your words were cut off by the sound of a plate being thrown on the wall behind you, and that time you were sure you had been his target. when you looked at him, he was not the man you had thought he was. although you didn’t show it, you were terrified, and you still are, because you didn’t know where and when he would’ve stopped. you walked to your bedroom and started gathering the things he used to leave at your apartment.
“y/n, wait. i didn’t mean to do that. just-“ you began throwing his clothes at him, interrupting the empty promises he was about to made.
“you don’t want this kid? then leave!” you scream.
“i always knew you were just a bitch! should’ve left you months ago!”
“leave!” you shouted, taking the framed picture of the two of you from the coffee table and throwing it at the door as he closed it behind him.
your empty chest squeezes every time you catch a glimpse of the mess littering your floor and the reminder of what he was about to do because of his unjustified anger.
you fall on the ground, your back pressed against the wall behind you as loud sobs escape from your lips. tears are now falling down to your neck, drenching your eyelashes and your face. your hand shakily reaches for the phone that rests in your front pocket, pressing the contact for the only person you want to see right now.
“hey, y/n,” the melody of jj’s voice already brings you comfort, “what’s up?”
“j…” your trembling tone and the sound of your crying is now clear to him as he becomes scared of your well-being, which makes him interrupt you before you can continue.
“y/n? baby? what’s going on? where are you?”
as usual, the nickname makes butterfly erupt in your stomach, even in the state you’re in right now. however, what really warms your heart is the jingling of keys, already working his way outside his house just to get to you.
“i-i’m home. p-p-please, come h-here.”
“i’ll be there in five seconds, baby, okay?”
you hang up, too exhausted to answer as the last bit of strength you have left is currently being used to dehydrate your body since your tears seem to never stop.
when you hear the rumbling of his bike from outside, you finally take a deep breath, although it’s still hard to breathe between your sobs. you thank yourself for always having a spare key, which only jj knows about and where it’s hidden.
as soon as he enters the home, nervously looking for you, his face drops, horror is written all over his features as he looks at the sight before him: broken pieces of glass and ceramic are littering the ground, clothes are thrown on the couch and right on the front door, a picture on the floor that shows both you and your boyfriend. ex-boyfriend, but to jj that wasn’t a given yet.
his eyes finally found your shaking figure and he runs to you, anger and concern are the only emotions on his face as he crouches down in front of you.
“tell me he didn’t hurt you. tell me he didn’t throw this stuff at you because i swear to god i’m gonna kill him,” and you believe him.
perhaps you wouldn’t have if it was a different situation, but the look in his eyes clearly tells you that he’s about to commit murder if you don’t stop him.
“baby, please, talk to me. i just need to know that you’re okay, i need to know you’re not hurt,” he pleads, but your breathing gets harder the more you think about the bomb you’re about to drop.
“he didn’t hurt me,” you whisper softly, your crying finally calms down for a second.
“what happened?”
you look into his beautiful eyes, the same ones that never judged you and only ever gazed at you with so much affection and admiration, “i’m pregnant.”
even saying the words brings you to tears again as jj tries to calm himself down from the shock. his best friend, the woman he has loved for as long as he can remember, is pregnant…with another man’s child. he’s hurting, but he knows that it’s not about him and his stupid feelings right now.
“wha-whe- is it nathan’s?” he’s so shaken up by your confession he can barely make out a coherent sentence, but his question is a genuine one.
the annoyed look in your eyes tells him that it was a stupid question on his part, ‘whose would it be?’ your expression says.
“he left, j. he left me. he-” you stop yourself before you can tell him what he did, “he didn’t want us,” you simply say.
now he understands. he wants to kill him. he can’t believe he would do this to you, he knew he was a douchebag who didn’t deserve you, but this? this is low even for him.
jj wraps his arms tightly around your body, sitting on the floor next to you as he shifts in order to let you rest your head against his chest. he gently shushes your sobs as he rocks your body, bending his neck to press his lips on your forehead.
“it’s okay, everything’s gonna be okay, sunshine. i got you. we’ll figure this out, ” he whispers, reassuring and reminding you of his presence.
the name he used to call you when you were just two teenagers brings a whole different sentiment grow in your chest as you finally feel safe.
you hold onto his t-shirt for dear life while your sobs finally seem to die down.
“don’t go, please,” you murmur against the cotton of his shirt and he swears his heart breaks.
jj cradles your face in his hands, rubbing your cheeks with his thumbs as they get rid of your tears, and he stares into your eyes, an intense and strange look in his, “never. i’ll never leave you, you understand? i’m right here.”
the rawness and honesty in his voice makes you let out another soft sob and he kisses your head again.
“listen to me,” he says once his eyes are fixed on yours, “i’ll be here for everything, okay? i won’t let you go through all of this alone. it’s you and me.”
you nod slowly, your head still in his hands, “you and me.”
jj has been your rock since you were just a couple of kids, of troublemakers running around the cut hand in hand. you don’t remember one time in your life where he wasn’t there, protecting you from everything that’s wrong in the world and holding you when things got tough.
and even in this new and complicated situation, one neither of you have ever been in, he doesn’t hesitate to step up and do what he does best: taking care of you.
once you don’t have any tears left in you, he watches as you relax against him, your arms around him as he keeps rocking you. jj lifts your body from the ground and brings you to bed, laying you on the mattress. he gently throws a blanket on your sleeping body before bending down to kiss your forehead.
when he goes to leave the room, the sound of your voice stops him, “where you going?”
“i’ll stay here, don’t worry. i was going to sleep on the couch,” he smiles, reassuring you that he’ll be here for you in the morning.
“can you stay…here?” your voice is weak and sleepy, and he can’t say no to you.
“of course, sunshine.”
he lies next to you and you immediately go to rest your head on his chest, while his arms wrap around you, protecting you for as long as he can. one hand starts smoothing your hair out of your face, while the other is firmly hugging your waist.
“j,” you call him, so softly he almost doesn’t hear you, “i’m scared.”
he tightly shuts his eyes and kisses your head again, his lips lingering on your skin a little too long, “i know; i know, sunshine, but i’m not going anywhere, okay? you’re gonna have to kick me out if you want me to stay away.”
you chuckle and nuzzle your head further in his neck, inhaling the perfume of cheap cologne that brings you so much comfort, “thank you.”
the next morning, you find yourself in an empty bed, no sign of jj. the thought of him leaving you too begins to crawl inside you, mixed with fear and disappointment. you can hear the soft sound of your old tv playing in the living room, you didn’t leave it on, did you?
you slowly walk to your kitchen, an open space with the living room, and there he is, your favorite person in the whole world standing in front of a cooking pan while humming a song to himself.
“g’morning,” you mumble, rubbing sleep from your eyes as you walk closer to him.
“good morning, sunshine,” he smiles at you, “i was making you breakfast.”
you grin at him; how stupid of you to think he would ever leave you.
your eyes scan the room as a frown starts to form on your face, “did you clean the mess from last night?”
he turns to you and nervously rubs the back of his head, “oh - uhm, yeah. there was glass everywhere, didn’t want you to get hurt, y’know.”
your feet take you to where he’s standing and your arms circle around his torso, resting your head against his chest. at first he’s startled by the sudden affection, but he recovers quickly, holding you close to him. you’re enjoying the comforting feeling of being in his arms when the smell of the eggs he’s cooking hits you, making you scrunch your nose.
suddenly, you feel an upsetting sensation in your stomach and you soon realize that your baby doesn’t agree with eggs.
“oh shit,” you say as you unwrap yourself from him and all but run to the bathroom, leaving a very confused jj behind you.
however, the sound of you being sick makes him move to the bathroom’s open door. you’re kneeling in front of the toilet, throwing up as you try to hold your hair back. jj immediately kneels behind you and wraps his hand around your hair while his other hand strokes your back.
when you’re done, you let yourself fall with your back against the bathtub while he follows you, putting an arm around your shoulders.
“what was that about?” he asks softly, “did you eat something bad last night?”
you chuckle, “morning sickness, j. gonna have to do this for a while.”
“you’re telling me you’re gonna throw up every morning?”
your hand plays with his shirt as your head finds a comfortable position against his chest, “i started having it a week ago and i did some research, it should last at least two months,” you sigh, “anyway, i’m going to the doctor this afternoon and i’ll ask her about it, just to make sure.”
“i’m coming with you,” he says, holding you tighter.
“j, you don’t have to,” although the smile on your face says otherwise.
his lips press against your forehead, “i told you, i won’t let you go through this alone.”
he keeps his promise, like always. that same afternoon he picks you up and brings you to the doctor’s office. when you’re ready for your exam, the doctor tells him that he can come into the room as your private parts are covered.
jj sits next to you as the gynecologist squeezes a cold substance on your stomach, prepping you for your sonogram.
“so,” she starts, eyeing the man beside you, “you are…?”
“i’m her best friend; jj, ma’am,” jj says, showing her a polite grin.
“well, nice to meet you. are you ready, y/n?”
you nervously smile at her, “yeah, i am.”
the gynecologist begins the sonogram and the sound of a pulse starts filling the room, “this is your baby’s heartbeat,” she smiles and you unconsciously grab jj’s hand, his fingers intertwining with yours immediately, “and this,” she points to a bunch of black and white lines, “this is your baby.”
a laugh full of disbelief escapes your lips and jj’s eyes fall on your face, admiring you.
“i’ll leave you alone for a couple of minutes, okay?” the doctor says before leaving the room.
he brings your joined hands to his lips, kissing your knuckles, “you okay, sunshine?”
your eyes are full of tears when you answer him, “thank you for coming with me.”
“i wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”
jj maybank isn’t known for being responsible, for owning up to his mistakes, or for making the smartest decisions, but when it comes to you? he’d give up everything just to get you to show him that beautiful smile of yours that makes his insides churn up and his heart flutter in his chest.
therefore, when he finds out you’re going to tell your parents about the pregnancy, he doesn’t leave your side, just like he promised. he might be unreliable to anyone else that knows him, but to you he’s always been the only person you can count on.
his hand is squeezing yours as you both look at your parents’ reaction after finding out about your situation.
“is it his?” your father asks, pointing at jj.
“no, it’s nathan’s. he - uhm,” jj rubs his thumb on the back of your hand, comforting you, “he left.”
“oh, come here,” your mom walks to you, taking you in her arms and your dad does the same not long after.
“jj, don’t take this wrong way, son, but what are you doing here?” your father asks, confusion written all over his face.
your parents have known jj since forever, just like you, and they both know how much you care for each other. it’s not a secret they’ve been waiting for you and him to get together, but no one dares to say it out loud.
“she’s a strong woman, sir, i know she could do this alone but i don’t want her to. so i’ll be by her side as long as she’ll have me.”
your dad nods at him while your mom goes to give him a hug too, taking him by surprise.
after spending the rest of the day at your parents’, jj takes you home. it’s been a couple of days since your boyfriend left you and although you’re still hurt by what he’s done, every time you walk into your house and remember that he’s not there, a sense of relief washes over you.
before jj can go back to his apartment, he stops at the front door, the question eating him alive for days. he calls your name, bringing your attention to him, “listen, i don’t want you to talk about it if you aren’t ready but…what happened the other night? i - i keep thinking about the mess on the floor and it’s haunting me.”
you walk to him, resting your hands on his chest, “promise me you won’t do anything stupid.”
his eyes look into yours, “i can’t promise you that,” his low and raspy voice makes your stomach flip.
“j…i don’t want you to get hurt.”
“what did he do?”
you lick your lips, slowly gnawing on the bottom one, “he threw some things,” you swallow thickly.
“at you?”
“jj, please-“
“just answer the question,” his eyes are full of rage and you don’t know what he’s going to do once he gets to know the truth, but you’re too far into the story to lie now.
“yes. he missed…twice. i - i think he was drunk, that’s the only explanation i have. he had never done something like this before.”
the look in his eyes is scaring you, not because you fear him, but because you fear what he might do. he protects you; that’s what he’s always done for you and knowing that he couldn’t do that when nathan was with you is killing him.
“j?” you ask as he still hasn’t said anything.
“i’ll see you tomorrow morning.”
your arm wraps around his bicep, stopping him, “you don’t have to do this. i’m okay.”
“because his aim is shit! that’s why you’re okay!” he all but shouts, “i’m just going to make sure he doesn’t have the chance to do it again.”
you place the hand that isn’t stopping him on his cheek, cradling his face and forcing his gaze on you, “i don’t like this,” you whisper, your faces closer than you had realized before.
his eyes finally soften; he slowly wraps his fingers around your wrist, that was brushing against his chin, and gently places a kiss on it, then on your palm, “he’ll get what he deserves,” he rasps as his forehead falls on yours, your noses brushing against each other.
“just -“ you sigh, your breath hitting his mouth, and he swears his heart skips a beat at the feeling, “be careful.”
he uses all of his self-control to not kiss your mouth until you can’t breathe anymore, but he can’t help himself from kissing the tip of your nose and then your forehead, “i will,” he reassures you.
when he shows up at your door the morning after, you don’t ask questions. the split lip, the purple bruise around his eye and the bandages around his hand are everything you need to know. he doesn’t tell you what happened and if you want to be honest, you don’t really want to know, so luckily, that was the last time either of you brought the subject up.
everyday, jj is there for you, holding your hair up when you’re sick and bringing you all the weird foods you start craving. when he said he wasn’t going to leave you, he meant it. he picks up all your calls immediately, even if it’s in the middle of the night.
“hey, sunshine,” he answers his phone, one night. he checks the time on the clock sitting on his bedside table: 3 a.m.
you’re already in your third month of pregnancy, so it’s been roughly a month since you found out. it has now become almost a habit for you to call him when you have a craving, therefore he doesn’t worry anymore when you call him so late at night.
“hey…this is going to sound weird,” you say, clearly nervous.
“what’s up?”
“i really, really want cookie dough ice cream…and popcorn.”
a moment passes before he answers, the sound of him moving some things around does not go unnoticed by you, “okay, i’ve got popcorn at my place. i can see if i can find an open gas station? for the ice cream, i mean.”
you smile, “you’re the best, you know that?”
“i know, but i love it when you say it.”
your cheeks turn cherry red, “text me when you’re coming, ‘kay?”
“sure, sunshine. don’t worry ‘bout me.”
the thing that still takes you aback is the lack of hesitation whenever you ask something; no one has ever treated you like this, except him but something feels different this time.
“my hero!” you say in a theatrical manner when jj enters your bedroom, a bag of popcorn in one hand and a small tub of ice cream in the other.
“gotta save the princess in distress,” he smirks before handing you the goods and leaving the room again, “i’ll get you a spoon.”
he holds you close to his chest for the rest of the night, almost lying to himself that this could be a habit for the rest of your lives.
you can’t deny how much you want this too, and your pregnancy hormones are making it even harder to resist him.
“oh, c’mon! it’s impossible nothing’s happened between you two yet!”
your friend, mar, is currently trying to make you talk about your ‘secret affair’ with jj, which doesn’t exist, but she keeps insisting it does.
you’ve been hanging out with her a lot more these past few months since she also has a baby, and you’re desperate for advices from someone who has already been through this.
“i swear, mar! why would something happen?”
“because he’s hot and he’s been head over heels for you since forever?”
you chuckle, before taking a sip of the water in front of you. you’re sitting at a café, hoping no one is listening to your conversation, “yeah, sure.”
she looks at you, cocking an eyebrow, “don’t tell me you don’t know. you really think he’s not in love with you?”
you shrug, “yeah, ‘cause he’s not. he’s my best friend, that’s it.”
“you’re telling me you’ve never, even once, looked at him in a different way? not even in a i-want-to-jump-his-bones kind of way?”
you’re sure your cheeks are turning red now, “maybe…but that doesn’t count!”
“what doesn’t?”
“i mean, i’ve always thought he was hot, but lately things have felt different - i have been feeling differently,” you correct yourself.
you don’t tell her that you’ve been admiring him from afar all those years of friendship, how watching him with someone else makes a sick feeling in your stomach grow, or how your heart seems to jump out of your chest whenever he touches you.
she leans closer to you, her elbows sitting on the small table between you, “different how?” she smirks.
“the jump-his-bones thing…” you mumble, “but i think there’s something different with me! i don’t know, maybe it’s the pregnancy.”
she seems to think about your words for a moment, “wait, this is about your fourth month, right?” you nod, “that’s totally normal! your hormones start going crazy around the fourth month of pregnancy. i couldn’t keep my hands off mike during that time,” she says, referring to her husband.
“is that what this is? i thought i was turning into a horny teenager.”
you both laugh before you continue, “i guess i can call my gynecologist and see if she can give me a pill or something.”
“oh yeah, that’s what you need: a good…pill.”
you playfully roll your eyes at her, “shut up.”
“i bet jj would be happy to help you with that by the way.”
“mar!”
she throws her hands in the air, “just saying.”
as you drive back home, your friend’s words keep replaying in your head.
could he really be in love with you? and even if he were, why wouldn’t he tell you, especially right now?
you mindlessly walk through the front door, still deep in your thoughts, when you hear a strange sound coming from the corridor. you automatically place your hand on your phone, ready to call ‘someone’, before your head turns to the window, your eyes searching for jj’s truck. when you see it right outside your house, you sigh in relief.
“jj?” you call his name, walking towards the sound.
“in here!” he yells, his voice now clearly coming from the empty room in your apartment.
when you find yourself outside the room, you have to stop yourself from actually drooling at the sight; he’s kneeling on the ground, shirtless and sweating, as he’s working with some pieces of wood. you’re not really sure what he’s doing but you’re sure as hell enjoying the view.
“j, what are you doing?” you ask as you enter what’s supposed to be a spare room, confusion and amusement written all over your face.
“i’m building a crib,” he says nonchalantly while your lips slightly part at his words.
your hand automatically travels to your growing belly, “what?”
“i thought i would get ahead of things, before everything becomes crazy and shit, i don’t know. wanted to surprise you,” he shrugs, although it’s obvious he cares about your reaction.
“is this going to be the baby’s room?”
he finally rises rom his kneeling position and walks to you, standing at the door to look at the room in front of you, “you don’t like it?”
tears start to form in your eyes and you don’t even know why, “it’s just - it’s so boring and plain! i-“ you take a deep breath and look at jj, “i love what you’re doing, j. it’s the sweetest thing someone has ever done for me but…this room is so ugly.”
you almost start to cry when he wraps an arm around your shoulders, bringing your body flush against his, and kisses your head, “i’m sorry,” you whisper against his naked chest, your insides turning at the feeling of his skin.
“hey, it’s okay. did you really think i wanted to keep those beige walls in a baby’s room?”
you crane your neck to look up at him, “you don’t?”
he chuckles, “of course not, baby. i wanted to paint the walls a different color, that’s for sure. i was thinking green. would you like that?”
you nod and wrap your arms around his neck, jumping slightly to rest your head right where his neck meets his shoulder, “yes, yes! that’s so pretty!”
he’s completely taken aback by your sudden burst of happiness, not that he minds, he would do absolutely anything to make you happy. jj wraps his arms tightly around your torso and spins you a little as you giggle, the sound like a sweet melody he never wants to stop listening to.
when your feet hit the ground again, you place your hands on his reddened cheeks and kiss one of them sweetly, “thank you.”
“anything for you, you know that.”
you smile up at him, showing him your sweetest smile, one that’s always been his. his arms are still circling around your torso, keeping you close to him and you swear you see his eyes flicker to your lips for a second, but that’s it; only a second, before he goes back to what he was doing previous to your arrival.
the next day, jj shows up at your house with full buckets of green paint, brushes and rollers in plastic bags and that grin on his face you love so much, “put on some old clothes, baby, because we’re painting a room today.”
you look at him incredulous, “are you serious right now?”
“uhhh, yeah?”
he walks to what will be the baby’s room while you run to your closet, excited to do this for your child. you wear a big, worn, white t-shirt, which you’re sure is actually jj’s, and a pair of denim overalls your mom gave to you when she found out about your pregnancy, since they’re bigger than your usual size.
jj swears his heart skips a beat when he sees you, the look suits you so much he wishes he could kiss you right then and there.
“so, are we doing this?” you ask, walking to him as he tries to stop staring and gawking at you.
he hands you a paint roller, already covered in the light pastel green tint, and you take it with a determined smile on your face, which he returns.
“where do i start?”
“just paint the center and i’ll do the edges and hard spots,” he says as he also picks his own roller.
“you think i can’t handle the ‘hard spots’, maybank?” you grin in a teasing manner, making fun of the way he spoke to you and doing air quotes with your free hand.
“i think i don’t want you to climb a ladder. i won’t help you if you fall on your ass.”
you push his shoulder jokingly, “shut up, you would carry me around for weeks if i ever fall,” you add, laughing at the image you have in your head of a very tired jj giving you piggyback rides.
“yeah, i would,” and the smile on his face is a genuine one this time.
you and jj fall in a comfortable silence as you paint the walls of your baby’s room, illuminated by the soft afternoon light coming from the window. everything has always been easy with him, you never once felt judged or self-conscious around him, because you know that no matter what happens, he’ll always take your side.
you glance at him from time to time, his thin, white cotton shirt giving you a full view of his abs. you can’t help yourself from feeling warmer only by looking at him, and at this point you’re not sure you can blame it all on your pregnancy hormones.
“wanna listen to some music?” he asks after a while.
“sure.”
jj takes his phone out of the back pocket of his ripped jeans, and after scrolling his screen for a while, he sets it down on the floor as ‘i’m walking on sunshine’ by katrina and the waves starts playing.
“seriously?” you laugh at him as he starts moving his hips to the music and bopping his head.
“what?”
he keeps painting, enjoying the giggles leaving your lips as you look at him.
“you’re ridiculous!”
“oh yeah?”
he takes your free hand and starts spinning you around which leads the acrylic covering the roll in your other hand to splatter on him and yourself.
“jj!” you act mad, although you can’t keep the laughter inside you.
“you know, green hair suits you,” he teases.
“oh, you’re dead!”
suddenly, your roller is sliding down his shirt as a gasp leaves his lips.
“you didn’t!”
in the blink of an eye, you’re both splattering paint on each other, your clothes ruined and your smiles so big your cheeks hurt.
you turn around as you squeal from the amount of paint you’re throwing at each other, but it’s so fun you don’t even care. when you ‘accidentally’ cover his face in green, it’s over.
your mouth is agape and a choked laugh escapes you at the sight. jj lets his roller fall down on the ground as he uses both of his hands to get rid of the paint, so slowly that it’s now become comical.
“that’s it. come here!”
he runs after you, making you scream in amusement, but the chase doesn’t last long as he wraps his arms around your torso from behind, slightly lifting you from the ground while you bend your legs and then he puts you immediately back with your feet on the floor, never letting you go. he smothers his face on your shoulder and cheek while you keep laughing, your stomach almost hurting from how much fun you’re having.
“stop, stop!” you try to say between choked gasps.
you manage to turn around in his arms and face him, stupid grins on both your faces and as you both realize how close you are to each other, your chuckles die down. you reach his green cheek with your hand, trying to get rid of the paint.
“green suits you, maybank,” you say, mocking him.
“i hate you,” his voice is hoarse as he looks down at you, wrapped in his arms and completely happy.
your hand travels down to his jaw, until your palm touches his chin; his breath hitches at your soft touch.
“you don’t,” you whisper.
your eyes flicker from his to his lips while your thumb brushes against his bottom lip, removing the residual green on them. you can’t help yourself from staring at them, biting your own bottom lip unconsciously.
“yeah, i don’t,” he mumbles, slowly leaning down as your mouths get dangerously close to each other and you can feel his breath fanning out on your parted lips.
his eyes stare into yours, a thousand words left unsaid. your other hand is resting on his hard chest and the loud thumping of his heart against your touch makes you flutter your eyes close.
“do you want me to stop?” he breathes out, with his lips already brushing against yours.
you open your eyes, and when you’re about to tell him to just kiss you - the sound of your doorbell wakes you up from your trance.
as your heart tries to get back to a normal rate, you unwrap yourself from his arms with an apologetic smile; you clear your throat, “i - i have to - uhm, the door-“
to say he made you a flustered mess is an understatement. he chuckles lightly, “right.”
when you open the front door, annoyed at whoever ruined the moment you were having with jj, the last person on earth you would’ve expected stands outside.
“nathan,” you gasp.
you look down at your clothes, green paint all over you, and then back up at him. is this really happening?
“is this a bad time?” he asks, cocking an eyebrow.
“hey, who was at the-“
‘this is bad’ you think to yourself, horror clear on your face.
jj speed walks to you, an arm is thrown protectively in front of you as he gives the man the most intense death stare you’ve ever seen.
“what the fuck are you doing here?” jj asks with so much venom in his voice.
“i need to talk to you. what the fuck is he doing here?” nathan looks at you, completely ignoring the blond beside you.
“no. you’re going to stay outside and talk to me.”
shit.
“j, calm down, please. don’t do anything stupid,” you turn to the blond beside you, placing a hand on his chest, but it’s useless; he’s already walking outside, with you hot on his heels.
“get back inside,” he tells you, his eyes never leaving the man in front of him.
“hey, look at me,” you force his head to turn to you by placing your hands on his cheeks, and his gaze finally softens, “you’ve already done enough. stop it.”
“i don’t want you to be alone with him.”
“but i need to do this alone, please.”
you can see his adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he looks between you and nathan, “whatever happens, i’m inside.”
you give him a reassuring smile, “i know.”
you watch as he walks back into your apartment, and you turn back to your ex boyfriend.
“what are you doing here, nathan?” you ask annoyed.
“you’re my girl and that’s my baby,” he says pointing to your prominent belly, “what is he doing here?”
“your girl? what are you talking about? you left us months ago!”
“no, you kicked me out-“
“because you didn’t want us! you tried to hit me, nathan! what the hell do you want from me?”
he walks closer to you, but you instinctively take a step back, showing him how much you fear him, and that makes a sick smile appear on his face, “that’s still my baby. you hate it, don’t you?”
what you don’t realize is that he’s not smiling at you, but at the blond man standing outside your door with his arms across his chest. the thought of leaving you alone with nathan was making him sick to his stomach and he couldn’t stay inside any longer.
“i don’t hate my baby. i’m their mother and i’ll love them until my last breath, and i know other people will too. they’re just unlucky to have a sick and piece of shit of a father-“
your breath is knocked out of your lungs when a hand almost hits you in the face; the blow is stopped by someone else’s fingers wrapped around nathan’s wrist.
“you think i don’t know why you came here?” jj spits at him, “did you really think i didn’t know you were here for revenge? you want nothing to do with this baby, you never did.”
nathan looks at you and then back at jj, “oh yeah? then why are you here? i know you’re just waiting for her to give it up like the sl-“ before he could end his sentence, jj’s hand wraps around his throat, throwing him on the wall beside your door.
“c’mon, what were you saying, huh? let’s see if you’ve got the balls to say it!” he yells in his face.
“get off me!”
nathan tries to get rid of jj’s assault, pushing at him as he can feel his fingers tighten around his throat, choking him.
“JJ! STOP IT!” you scream as you can see the brown haired’s face start to get redder, fighting for air.
“stay the fuck away from my girl, you got it?” jj all but growls.
he finally lets go of nathan, pushing his head back on the wall violently as he does so, emitting a groan of pain from him. nathan starts coughing violently, trying to regain his breath, when jj speaks again, “and if i see you near her again, if i hear you talking about her, i swear i won’t stop until you’re dead.”
he walks over to you, placing one hand on your back as he gently pushes you inside the house. when he closes the door behind him, he spins you around and his eyes are immediately scanning over your face, checking for injuries, “he didn’t touch you, right?”
“j,” you gulp, “you could’ve killed him.”
he licks his lips and then avoids your eyes, “should’ve done it the moment i found out what he did to you. he’s lucky i haven’t done it yet.”
you put some distance between you two, causing him to look at you with hurt written all over his features, “you could’ve gone to jail, jj. what the hell were you thinking?”
“i was thinking he was about to hit you! did you want me to give him a pat on the back for almost slapping you in the face?”
you rub your hands on your face, confusion and frustration hitting you all at once, “i don’t want you to get hurt or get in such serious trouble because of me. that’s all i’m saying.”
he takes a step closer to you, “you do realize i would go to jail for you? i don’t care. there’s no way i would’ve let him get away for hurting you and the baby. and yes, y/n, i would kill for the both of you.”
you inhale sharply, closing your eyes for a second. when you reopen them, you take the last steps that separate you and throw your arms around his neck, hugging him close to you. he’s quick to catch you, one arm wrapped tightly around your torso and the other resting on your head.
“just because you would go to jail for me doesn’t mean i want you to,” you whisper, your lips on his neck, “i need you to stay here…with us. i want the baby to know the wonderful man that you are, okay?”
his arm tighten, if that’s possible, around you, “okay, baby. i’m right here; not going anywhere.”
it’s been almost two months since the last time you saw your ex boyfriend now. nothing has changed between you and jj, although the air is different; there’s a tension every time you look at each other and neither of you knows how to deal with it.
lingering touches and stolen glances are part of your day to day life and you don’t know how long you can keep this facade up before one of you decides to do something about it.
it’s currently five in the morning and you’re lying on your bed as one hand rests on your belly, rubbing the naked skin lovingly. you were awoken by a weird sensation in your stomach but now everything feels normal and you’re trying to fall asleep again, when the feeling comes back.
“oh my god,” you whisper to yourself, “you’re kicking. oh my god!”
you reach for your phone immediately, giggling at the feeling of little feet kicking in your stomach.
you don’t even give him the time to say something, “j, you have to come here right now!”
well, that got his attention instantly and he’s already putting his shoes on as he asks: “what’s going on? are you okay? is the baby okay?”
“they’re kicking! they’re kicking for the first time, j. you have to feel this! oh my god, it’s so weird!”
jj is already getting in his car when he smiles widely at your voice, your happiness so clear in your words that his heart clenches at the sound, “yeah? good weird or bad weird?”
“good weird,” you say, sighing happily, “definitely good weird.”
“stay right there, love. i’ll be there before you know it, okay?”
you hear the sound of the motor of the car, already moving and ready to get to you, “m’kay. we’ll wait for you.”
when he arrives, he almost runs into your room and launches himself on the bed, letting a big laugh erupt from your lips; his favorite music.
“come here, come here. they started kicking like crazy when i talked to you!” you tell him as he climbs up higher on the bed to kiss your forehead, making you smile even wider.
you take his hand and place it on your stomach, although the movements have stopped at least five minutes ago.
“is it happening?” he whispers, his eyes fixed on your face, admiring your beauty slightly illuminated by the moonlight coming from the window.
“not anymore,” your hand guides his around on your belly, hoping the contact will make the baby move again, “i can’t believe you missed it.”
“hey,” he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, turning your attention to him, “it’s okay. i wish i was here for the first time, but i don’t want you to be upset about it. they kicked! we should be happy about this, sunshine.”
you smile at each other and you lean into his touch, “i know,” you sigh, “they’re already growing so fast, i can’t-“
the feeling of something moving inside you, interrupts you, “they’re doing it again, j!”
his hand is still resting on your stomach and he chuckles in disbelief when he can feel the movement too, “oh my god, this is amazing!”
you look at him, your eyes shining from the joy of sharing this moment with him, and when he turns to you again and notices that your eyes were already on him, he kisses your cheek, so slowly and with so much affection that it takes you by surprise.
“i wish i could be here for everything,” he confesses, almost to himself, “every little thing, i want to be here; for you and for them.”
“then stay,” the words escape your lips unconsciously, but there’s no turning back now, “i mean, if you want. you can move in.”
his eyes widen while a big grin plays on his face, “are you serious?”
you nervously bite your bottom lip, scared that he might think that you’re crossing too many lines, “yeah, if you want. you said you want to be here for everything and if you lived here, you could. it was just a thought, if you don’t want this, i-“
his arms wrap around you in a swift motion, startling you but you recover quickly by returning the hug, “i’ll take this as a yes?”
he looks at you, lying on his side as one arm is still resting on your waist, “of course! i care about you, both of you. i don’t want to miss anything.”
you smile at him and scoot closer to feel his comforting touch, “go back to sleep, sunshine,” he whispers, “i’ll be here when you wake up.”
jj spends hours watching you sleep, the sound of your soft breaths, the peacefulness on your features, the way you try to get closer to him, even in your sleep; he’s so in love with you, it hurts sometimes. he wants nothing but to spend the rest of his life like this, sleeping in the same bed and holding each other until morning comes.
and that’s how you spend your nights from now on. when you asked him to move in with you, you both agreed he would have to sleep on the pullout couch, because that’s what made sense, right?
but how can you sleep so far away from him when he’s so close? he’s your safe haven, always have been and always will. therefore, you end up sleeping on the pullout couch more often than you’d like to admit, and he ends up in bed with you, because he can’t stay away from you either.
‘i had a nightmare’
‘i can’t sleep’
‘do you feel like watching a movie?’
bad excuses to spend the night together, that’s what they are.
you’re currently lying on the pullout couch, jj’s head on your chest as you’re both trying to sleep. when he thinks you have drift off, his hand falls on your belly, gently stroking it as a thousand mental pictures of your future together fill his head. he unwraps himself from you and positions himself in order to place his head on your stomach. maybe it’s silly, but the book that lays on your bedside table said that babies can hear you even when they’re in the womb; so it’s worth a try, he thinks.
“hi, baby,” he mumbles against your skin, “i know we don’t know each other yet, but i love you very much, and so does your mom. you’re very lucky, y’know? she’s the best mom you could’ve asked for,” he softly kisses the skin, “and i swear i’ll try to be enough for both you and her. i wish i could give you everything in the world, but for now i hope my heart is enough.”
jj sighs, slowly rubbing the skin with his thumb, completely unaware that his movements woke you up a while ago, “you know, your mom already had my heart before, she always did, but sssh, this is a secret between you and me, mh?” he chuckles softly, “but you? well, you and your mom have been sharing my heart since the moment i found out about you. i know it’ll be yours forever, i don’t want it to be anyone else’s.”
a moment passes before he can get the next words out, “i love you both so much, you have no idea,” he says, his voice breaking as he does so.
“j?” you inhale sharply, too scared of making a sound. your heart is beating so fast and tears are welling up in your eyes as you look down at the man who’s been taking care of you for as long as you can remember.
“i - i thought you were asleep…” he says, his eyes full of fear as he gets up from his position to lay next to you.
“what was that about?” your voice is barely a whisper. did he just confess that he loves you? what did he mean?
“i read that babies can hear you even when they’re not born yet…thought maybe it would be nice to talk to them i guess,” his eyes avoid yours at all costs, hoping that you didn’t hear everything he said. the situation is already complicated as it is, he doesn’t want to make your life harder than it is right now.
“not that. the things you said…j, did you mean them?” your hand cradles his face, forcing him to finally look at you as a thousand emotions are written in his eyes.
“y/n, i-“
“yes or no. did you mean them?”
you don’t want to play childish games, not anymore. you can’t keep acting like you don’t know what’s going on between you.
“yes.”
the breath you let out is shaky and you can barely keep your composure with the amount of feelings you have right now. you’ve always known he loves you, but not like this. this is a different kind of love that you thought he would never have for you, and it scares you.
your hand falls from his cheek, but he’s quick to hold it in his, bringing it to his chest as you can feel his thumping heart beneath your touch; or maybe it’s yours, you’re not even sure at this point.
“nothing has to change, please,” his eyes search for yours, full of panic, “don’t push me away; not now. i have to take care of you and the baby, i can’t imagine a life without you. i can move out, if that makes you more comfortable-“
“yes. you should move out,” you don’t want to do this, and that’s clear by the way your voice breaks, but it’s what’s best for everyone involved, “you can come over whenever you want, but i don’t think you should keep living here.”
he drops your hand, putting some space between you two, as rejection is written all over his features. he slowly nods his head, keeping his tears at bay, “whatever you think is right for you.”
you avoid his eyes, sitting up, and you start to get up from the bed. for the umpteenth time, he’s putting your happiness before his. your eyes water as you stand in front of the couch, showing him your back before you turn around to face him, his body still laying on the mattress.
“this isn’t what i want, j,” you whisper.
he finally looks up at you, “then what do you want, y/n?” he raises from the bed, towering over you, “because i’ll do it. whatever you want, but you have to say it. you know what i want, what i’ve always wanted,” his face is so close to yours that you don’t know how long you’ll be able to hold yourself back, “now look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t want the same things.”
you close your eyes for a second before looking up at him, “i want you to be happy and free. i don’t want you to feel trapped, with a baby and everything, i-“ you sigh in frustration, “i don’t want to be a burden, not anymore.”
“you were never a burden,” his hands are placed on your arms as if to beg you to stay, “and you never trapped me. i stayed because i wanted to. what do i have to do to make you understand that this is what i want? i’m not messing around, y/n.”
you swallow thickly, the intense look in his eyes making your legs feel weak, “j, i-“
“just tell me.”
“what if you regret-“
“please,” he whispers as he lets his forehead touch yours, your heaving chests almost brushing against each other from the closeness.
“kiss me,” and he does, instantly.
his lips move gently against yours at first, tasting you, until the kiss becomes more urgent and rough. his tongue thrusts inside your mouth, claiming it and exploring it for the first time. years and years of pining and sexual frustration all in one long and breathless kiss.
one of his hands rests on your hip, almost brushing against your naked skin, while the other is placed on the back of your head, before it starts to trail down along your spine. you can’t help yourself from moaning against his mouth, tugging on his hair as you do so, which makes a low groan slip from his throat. he slowly makes you walk backwards and pushes you against the kitchen counter, without ever breaking the kiss.
his hands wrap around your naked thighs, slowly reaching for your behind and helping you sit on the counter. your legs rest on either side of him as his hands touch the exposed skin of your legs.
you lightly push him away, your foreheads still touching as you try to regain your breath, “oh my god,” you breathe out, emitting a chuckle from him.
“i second that.”
your noses brush against each other as you take deep breaths, “you have no idea how long i’ve wanted to do this,” he mumbles on your lips.
“me too, j,” you say with your hands still tangled in his hair.
he pecks your lips once, then twice, before his mouth starts leaving a trail of wet kisses from your jaw down to your neck, sucking and lightly biting on the spot below your ear, making you gasp at the feeling; the sound going right into his pants.
“fuck - the things you do to me, sunshine…” he rasps, his lips still nipping and kissing your exposed skin.
“wait,” you say and he raises his head to look at you.
“you want me to stop? we don’t have to do anything.”
he rubs your thigh with his thumb, comforting you, “i want this; i really do, but…” you look down, too embarrassed to face him, “my body is…different now.”
“oh, baby. your body is perfect. you really don’t know how hard you make me, do you? you’re sexy as hell, baby. so fucking gorgeous.”
your let your eyes fall to the prominent bulge in his pants before looking up at him, your cheeks flushed, “hey, if you want to wait, i’ll do it. i’ll wait for you as long as you need. waited my whole life, i can do it a little longer,” he whispers, seeing your hesitation.
“you can’t say things like that and expect me to not want you to take my clothes off.”
he chuckles lightly, before you slowly jump down the counter and take his hand, intertwining your fingers together.
you begin walking towards your room, your back to the door and your front to jj’s. your lips press against his jaw, leaving sweet kisses, until they reach his ear, “i want you to make love to me,” you murmur, your lips on his earlobe, gently biting it as a growl leaves his mouth, “then i want you to fuck me.”
and let’s just say he doesn’t hesitate for one second. he worships your body all night, showing you exactly how you should be treated, how all of the other guys you’ve been with were nothing compared to what he’s able to make you feel. you’ve never felt more comfortable with someone in bed, and even in your situation, he still manages to make you feel beautiful and sexy.
you fall asleep in his arms, naked and finally happy.
week 34 of pregnancy
“JJ I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU DON’T DRIVE FASTER I’LL KILL YOU!” you yell as your boyfriend is driving you to the hospital.
his foot hits the gas a little bit more, his arm wrapped in front of you, as if the seatbelt isn’t enough.
“breathe, baby, just breathe,” he keeps telling you and you’re really close to strangling him.
another contraction hits you and you grab his arm, tightly shutting your eyes from the pain. jj quickly checks the time on the watch on the hand that’s gripping the steering wheel.
“shit,” he whispers to himself, but it doesn’t go unnoticed by you.
“what?”
“the last one was four minutes ago. the baby is coming and soon.”
“it hurts, j!”
“hold on, baby, we need to get to the hospital NOW.”
by the time a nurse is pushing you on a wheelchair down the hospital halls, the contractions are three minutes apart. once they bring you to your room, jj sits next to you, holding your hand in his.
“we’re here! we’re here!” your mom says as she enters the room, followed by your dad and mar.
“i need everyone to leave the room for a second,” your doctor says and everyone follows her orders.
she examines you, checking to see if the baby is ready, “okay, y/n. it’s time. two minutes and we’re going to start, okay?”
you nod, fear obvious in your eyes, “can they come in for a second?” you ask, referring to the people outside.
“of course, but just for a second,” she calls them in.
jj runs to your side, kissing your forehead sweetly and holding your hand again, “everything okay?”
“she said two minutes and we’re starting.”
he sees the panic in your eyes and brushes some hair out of your face, in order to comfort you, “it’s okay. everything’s going to be okay, mh? and i’ll be right here, baby, i’m not leaving you.”
after hearing your parents’ and your friend’s reassuring words, the doctor comes back, “okay, i need everyone, except the father, out.”
they all leave, jj still sitting by your side. the gynecologist raises one eyebrow at him, “are you the father?”
“yes,” you answer, without thinking twice.
he doesn’t say anything; one of his arms is resting on the pillow behind your back, for you’re in a sitting position, while his other hand is still tightly holding yours.
“okay, then. ready to push?”
you nod. as the whole process goes on, jj and your doctor’s words are the only thing that are helping you through this. one of jj’s arms is now under your knee, keeping your legs open, as you start crying.
the doctor gives you a five seconds break, waiting for the next contraction while your back hits the pillow behind you, giving up the fight.
“i can’t push anymore,” you cry, jj’s hand pushing your hair out of your face, sticked to your forehead due to the sweat, and yet he thinks you look like the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen.
“i know, sunshine, i know. a little bit more, you can do it,” he kisses the side of your head.
“i can’t, i can’t. can you do it for me?”
he looks down at you, smiling sweetly, “i wish i could, but you’re gonna have to do this one.”
“c’mon. again, y/n,” your doctor says, resuming your previous actions.
when you finally hear the sound of a baby crying, your whole body relaxes against the pillow.
“did so good, baby. you did so good,” jj praises you, pressing his lips to your forehead.
his eyes look for the baby, resting in the gynecologist’s hands, “oh my god. oh my god, it’s a girl,” he tells you.
you look for your baby and when you see her, tears start streaming down your face again, “oh my god. she’s so tiny,” you watch as the nurses bring her away from you, “where are they taking her? j, where is she?”
“it’s okay, baby. they’re just washing her.”
“oh, okay, but be careful, she’s really tiny!”
jj chuckles wetly, tears also running down his face. a nurse hands you your baby and you instantly hold her to your chest.
“she’s so beautiful,” you whisper.
“she looks like you.”
you look up at him, “how can you say that? she was just born!”
“she’s beautiful, so she must look like you.”
your lips lightly touch her forehead, admiring her as jj does the same. when your eyes search for him again, you find him completely in awe with the baby, rubbing her small, blanket-covered arm with his thumb.
“maybank, if you don’t kiss me right now, i swear to go-“
his mouth is on yours before you can end your sentence, gently kissing your lips.
“i love you so much, sunshine.”
“i love you, j. so, so much.”
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taglist:
@jjmaybankisbae @rosie-cameron @idli-dosa @notslay-norcleor @ry1ssa @jjgirl4eva @poppet05 @jjsmads @solargazes @cindersnightmare @fairlymax @chaostudee @Isabellaheulwen @fictionlife4ever @alinag11 @neteyamo @goldenroutledge @tenaciousperfectionunknown @drewsgarfieid @urrtranny @highl1lac
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the-modern-typewriter · 4 months
Note
Hi! Would you be able to do a hero x villain scene with a villain that's used to trapping their opponents socially but the hero would rather just ignore that and punch them in the face, and the villain is kind of in love and kind of murderous?
The villain staggered back at the force of the punch with a groan of pain. They cupped a hand to their bloody nose.
The villain's various soldiers and lackeys immediately moved to restrain the hero.
"No." The villain held out their other hand. "No."
The lackeys froze, uncertain.
The hero, well-prepared for the possibility of fight, paused too. They shook out their fist, shoulders squared.
"Nice left hook," the villain said, straightening slowly. When they dropped their hand, the break had already healed, leaving only the blood.
"Fuck you."
"Yes, that might help your anger issues."
The hero scoffed. "I don't have anger issues, I just don't like being backed into a corner. I told you what would happen."
"Mm. That you did." The villain's head tilted. "Bold move."
"Clear communication. Do I need to do it some more?"
The villain grinned, letting their blood drip grotesque and feral across their teeth. They took a swaggering step forward, even as they neatly adjusted their outfit and rumpled hair back to the veneer of polite society. It didn't reach their eyes. Their eyes had that wild quality too, burning bright and fierce with something that the hero couldn't quite read.
"People generally prefer me when I keep things civil," the villain said. "It's neater. Safer for everyone involved."
"You mean, people normally cave because they're scared of you?"
"And you're not."
"If there's going to blood, let there be blood. I won't be bullied. Certainly not by the likes of you."
The villain laughed, a soft and rumbling danger. They swiped their tongue across their teeth, cleaning the blood away, and closed the distance with another step.
Apparently, they hadn't learned the dangers of getting too close.
The hero swung.
That time, the villain dodged, driving their knee deep into the hero's gut.
The hero doubled over, wheezing.
The villain caught a fistful of their hair, using the grip to smash the hero's face in one startlingly deft movement, before tipping the hero's head back before the blood splattered across the floor.
The whole room had gone quiet; focused in on the two of them. Someone had cut the music.
The villain grinned again. "So pretty."
The hero spat blood at them, but the villain didn't seem to mind. In the next instant, the hero had wrenched themselves free with an expert move.
The two of them circled.
The villain did not have a reputation for violence, or at least not for getting their hands dirty. They were a sleek monster, crafted of fine clothes and the clink of glasses and clever words in the shadowy backrooms that ruled the world.
"You're right," the villain said. "I do prefer less...crude games, than this. We're a civilized species. We should know better. Do not mistake my distaste for incapability, though."
The hero snarled. "Silvered words doesn't make what you do less ugly."
"A moral high ground doesn't make you less of a brute, gorgeous."
"I'm not a brute, you condescending-"
"-temper, temper." The villain's voice was a purr. "Have I struck a nerve?"
The hero lunged.
The villain dodged.
They circled again, more evenly matched than the hero had expected. They'd thought a hard hit, the possibility of real danger, would reveal the villain's sniveling heart. The cowardice at the core of so many powerful, evil people.
"You owe me an apology," the villain said. "I was having a perfectly lovely time. If you give me one now, like a good little hero, this doesn't have to get...unpleasant."
"Your face is unpleasant. Everything about you and what you do is unpleasant. I'd rather not lie."
The villain's eyes flashed, a mix of rage and desire. Then, their power lashed out. The windows shattered. People screamed. People fell.
The hero stared around the room, horrified.
"Far be it from me to deny a guest," the villain said, drawing their power back to themselves. "Let there be blood."
The fight escalated from there.
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m00nsbaby · 8 months
Text
AITA for texting my fiancé that "this isn't working"?
Steven Grant x reader.
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Tags & warnings. None. Yes, this literally is just a silly little thing that I read on reddit and I thought it was so funny lol. Reader is gender neutral!
Word count. 823.
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Moving in with Steven was one of the best decisions you could make in your life, right after saying 'yes' when he proposed.
The only inconvenience came at a precise time between morning and afternoon, sometimes even at night, all depending on the mood of his boss. Waiting for Steven to return from work was such a headache, boring hours and dead time as you tried to find your own job.
The upside was that you now had complete freedom to organize his apartment to your liking, and if anything needed a complete makeover, it was Steven Grant's dark and disorganized home.
You had just made a completely necessary expense, a gigantic mirror that was clearly bigger than your capabilities. Worse yet, considering that if there was something you despised with all your heart, it was the mere idea of reading an instruction manual.
When the mirror arrived, the Amazon delivery guy mocked you to your face for your difficulty in handling the box and getting it into the house.
You: Baby, the new mirror just came in!
You hit send after the message.
You: I’m going to try to put it together but I may need your help later.
And just as you said, you got to work with the phone by your side, waiting for a response from Steven.
You assumed Donna was in a terrible mood because at least two hours went by without a reply, although you were really too busy to worry about that.
For a moment, you insisted on the idea of finishing assembling the darn mirror before Steven arrived home, but that clearly didn't happen because for the two and a half hours of effort you put in, you didn't feel like you were really getting anywhere.
Plus, you had extra screws that shouldn't have been left over.
You: This isn’t working and at this point, I think I need to just give up.
You put the phone aside and lazily lay down on the carpet. Why was assembling furniture so hard? Although not as difficult as having to accept that you couldn't finish it on your own.
You stayed there not knowing how long, but you estimated it was a few hours because you heard the front door indicating that Steven was home. The smile lasted only a short while because as you straightened up to greet him, he walked past you without even looking at you, heading straight to the bedroom.
"Steven?" you questioned, slightly furrowing your brow. You stood up slowly, giving him time to exit the room.
When you finally confronted him, your heart almost jumped out of your chest. His eyes were red, completely filled with tears.
"What happened, baby?"
"Why?" he asked, his voice breaking. It shattered your heart into pieces.
"Why what, Steven?" He sniffled, and you searched his gaze when he started avoiding you.
"Why are you giving up on me?"
You nearly killed him right then and there.
"What are you talking about?"
He didn't take long to pull his phone out of his pocket and shake it a bit in front of your face; he was on the verge of sobbing.
"Y-Your messages, you were breaking up with me."
The moment Steven mentioned your text messages, you had to press your lips together to keep from laughing in his face.
Your expression almost made him cry harder. Were you making fun of him?
"Steven." Your voice came out in a playful tone as you almost burst into laughter. "I was talking about the mirror."
"Huh? What mirror?"
"The new mirror, it arrived." Your eyes were almost watering from holding back laughter. "I'm guessing that the previous messages didn't send; I was talking about not being able to assemble it on my own."
You stepped aside to let him see the mess you had made on the floor, with the mirror halfway assembled.
Steven exchanged glances between the things and you.
He looked at the things.
He looked at you.
He looked at the things.
He looked at you.
Realization hit in seconds, and you couldn't say anything more when you felt Steven's arms squeezing you against his chest. You couldn't stop laughing even though your laughter sounded odd, muffled by the fabric of his shirt.
"Bloody fucking hell, love!" Steven cursing was definitely a special event. It only made you laugh harder. "You almost gave me a heart attack!"
He lifted you off the ground, and tears were already streaming down your face. It took much longer than expected to calm down from the laughter.
Still breathless, you let him kiss your face, as well as embrace you with his strong arms that refused to let you go.
"Still, I need you to check the mirror." You took a deep breath, your cheeks already reddened, one of your hands held onto him, and the other wiped the corners of your eyes. "I think I damaged it."
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sinkovia · 2 months
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Yes, Lieutenant: III
Simon Riley x Fem!Reader
Violence, angst, blood.
Yes, Lieutenant Masterlist
You sat alone in your dimly lit room, the harsh words Ghost said echoing through your mind like a relentless chant.
You're not my type.
You're always following me around like a lost puppy, always watching my every move, and it's annoying as hell.
His words crushed your heart.
Tears streamed down your cheeks, soaking into your pillow as you sobbed in silence. It felt like the walls were closing in on you, the weight of rejection pressing down with an unbearable force.
He was the one to make a move on you first. Yeah, you harbored feelings for him deep down, but you always told yourself you would never act upon them because it was unprofessional, and you were okay admiring him from afar.
How could he have been so cruel? You had let your feelings show, and it had only resulted in heartache.
As Ghost stood at your door, he couldn't help but notice the telltale signs of your sadness. Your eyes were puffy and red, your cheeks stained with tears that you had fought so hard to hide. It crushed his heart, seeing the pain he had caused you etched across your face.
Deep down, he felt a crushing weight of guilt. He knew he had hurt you, and it tore at his conscience. But he also knew he needed to push you away, to keep up the facade of a calm and cold demeanor. His own internal struggle was hidden behind a mask of detachment, a facade he had become a master at maintaining.
It was a battle within him, torn between his feelings for you and his desire to protect you from himself. The guilt coursed through his veins like poison, but he couldn't let it show.
"Price wants everyone in the debriefing room," he said, his voice carrying an undertone of regret.
You fail to catch it.
"Is that all you have to say?" You couldn't hide the bitterness in your voice.
Ghost hesitated for a moment, his gaze dropping to the floor before he quietly replied, "Yes." He turned away, leaving you to grapple with the pain he had caused, all the while carrying the heavy burden of his own remorse.
Leaving you alone with your shattered heart, the room once again enveloped in the heavy silence of your unspoken pain.
Price had debriefed us on a mission that Laswell was sending us on. It would take place in a couple of hours; we were going to breach a safe house not far from here. Laswell had received an intelligence report that the enemy was supposedly using the building to transport cargo underground.
You quickly changed into your tactical gear before heading down to the storage locker. As you walked in, you bumped into Ghost as he was walking out.
He didn't say a word, only shooting you a cold glare before walking away.
The moon hung low in the night sky, casting a silvery glow over the desolate street where the safehouse stood. The building, a nondescript two-story structure, was tucked away in a dimly lit alley.
Your team moved with calculated precision. The air was frigid, each exhale visible as a ghostly vapor. The mission had a sense of urgency, a feeling that time was of the essence. On the flight over, the team had received intel that a high-ranking operative was holed up in the safe house, and extracting valuable information from him was paramount.
The plan was simple, in theory. Breach the perimeter, gain entry without alerting the guards, and capture the operative before he had a chance to react. But in the world of covert operations, simple plans often took unforeseen turns.
As you approached the entrance, your heart pounded in your chest. The adrenaline coursing through your veins was a constant reminder of the danger that lay ahead. The silence of the night seemed to amplify every breath and rustle, heightening the tension.
With a subtle hand signal, Ghost gave the go-ahead. You moved like shadows, silently closing in on the safe house. The breach was executed flawlessly, the door swinging open with a well-timed kick, and the element of surprise on your side.
Inside, the safehouse was dimly lit, the air heavy with anticipation. As you cleared room after room, you could hear faint murmurs and hurried footsteps from the operatives inside. The tension escalated with each passing moment.
The sound of muffled voices ahead signaled that you were closing in on your target. As you pushed forward, you couldn't help but feel the weight of dread pressing down on you.
As you slowly opened the door, silently walking through, you pointed your suppressed pistol at the man standing next to your target. But in the rush of the moment, you failed to realize that there was another man waiting behind the door.
A strong hand clamped over your mouth, muffling your startled gasp. With a swift, calculated move, he managed to pin you down onto the floor. Your heart sank as he took both of your hands and zip tied them. You attempted to scream out, but he quickly taped your mouth shut, your cries stifled.
The target slowly walked over, laughing.
"What do we have here?" he sneered as he kneeled down next to you, harshly grabbing your face and scanning your features.
"You have such a pretty face." His words dripped with malice as he raised his fist and brought it down, striking you hard across the face. The force of the blow sent shockwaves of pain radiating through your body. Your vision blurred, and the room seemed to tilt dangerously. You attempted to scream for help, but all that escaped your lips were muffled groans.
Panic surged through your veins as the unbearable pain consumed you. You squeezed your eyes shut, struggling and flailing in desperation, attempting to get up from the floor. Adrenaline surged through your veins, but it was no match for the overwhelming force of your assailants.
They would just kick you down again...
And again...
And again.
Pain flared in your ribs and jaw, making it difficult to breathe or defend yourself.
Panic set in as oxygen became a rare commodity, and your vision darkened at the edges.
Desperation fueled your adrenaline. With one last surge of strength, you managed to land a solid strike with your foot, pushing back one of the men. But it was too little, too late. The damage had been done, and your body, battered and overwhelmed, finally gave in. 
As consciousness slipped away, you felt a sense of helplessness, a silent plea for someone to intervene and save you from the relentless onslaught.
You felt the blood seeping from your nose...
You felt your blood seeping everywhere.
They continued to beat you as your eyes began to flutter close. Your consciousness slipping further and further away. Suddenly the pain had stopped all at once and you heard a voice.
They kept trying to tell you something,  but your ears were ringing.
A sense of weightlessness overcame you. It was as though you were floating in a vast, featureless void. Unseen forces tugged at your consciousness, pulling you deeper into the abyss.
And then, like a beacon in the night, a presence emerged from the shadows. Strong arms enveloped you, cradling you with unwavering support. The warmth of another human being pressed against you, grounding you in the midst of your descent into the abyss.
You could sense the urgency in the touch, the desperation of the one who held you. Faint words and pleas reached your ears, but they were like distant whispers, struggling to penetrate the thick fog that enveloped your senses. Your vision remained shrouded in darkness, your ears ringing.
He gently cradled you, his heart pounding as he tried tried to wake you up. Your pulse was weak. Desperate words spilled from his lips, as he was running to the med evac. 
You remained unresponsive, caught in a world between consciousness and oblivion.
"Y/n it's me please look at me" As Ghost gently, but firmly, holds you in his arms, he cups your face in his hands trying to get you to open your eyes. Your body was limp in his arms. 
"Y/n open your eyes it's Simon, Please just look at me. Please just open your eyes." Despite his pleas, you were still unresponsive.
"Fuck."
In a few minutes you had landed being put on a stretcher as you were rushed into surgery. 
Five hours of stitching you back together.
The night had turned into a battleground of emotions for Ghost, and as they transferred you into a room, Ghost dragged a chair next to your bed, carefully holding your hand in his. The only signs of life were the rhythmic beeping of machines and the steady rise and fall of your chest as you lay in a deep coma. 
He scanned over your face, you had stitches going across your eyebrow into your hairline, you had stitches on your cheek and lip. Your shoulder had been dislocated and you were bleeding internally. 
You were still unconscious , the doctor had told Ghost it might take awhile for you to wake up but that he should talk to you, to help your consciousness find its way back to your body.
With each passing second, he spoke to you. Talking about the missions you had went on, the nights spent in the rec room, the time Soap had rammed his head into a glass display at a bakery. Any fond memories that he could think of. 
His voice, soft and laden with emotion, filled the room like a whispered secret, the words falling on your unconscious ears. His hand rested gently atop yours, a warm anchor in the cold, sterile room.
"Remember that mission in Prague?" Ghost began, his voice tinged with nostalgia. "It was pouring rain, and you slipped on that wet cobblestone, but you didn't let it slow you down. You just flashed that stubborn grin of yours and kept moving."
A brief pause followed, as if he were savoring the memory. "And those late nights in the rec room, when you'd talk about anything and everything until the sun came up. Those were some of the best moments I had with you. Just listening you talk about all the things you loved."
He shifted in his chair, his eyes never leaving your form. "I need you to wake up, Y/n," his voice trembling with vulnerability. 
"I need you to hear me out. I said some awful things, things I regret more than anything. I... I didn't want to ruin you, to drag you into the darkness that clings to me like a shadow."
The weight of his confession hung heavily in the air. "But when I realized you felt the same way about me, I couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope, a ray of light in all this darkness. I want you to know that I love you… I have for a long time, more than I can ever put into words. And that's why I pushed you away, to protect you from me."
The room was filled with the unspoken words that lingered between you, the raw emotions that had finally found their voice. Ghost's gaze never wavered, his grip on your hand never loosened, as if he hoped his love and remorse could transcend the silent chasm that separated you.
He was praying that you would hear him, he prayed to a god he no longer believed in, prayed that you would open your eyes and be okay.
You heard every word. If you could smile you would. 
Your heart swelled with warmth at his confession, an overwhelming desire to hold him close, to reassure him that you weren't afraid of the darkness he spoke of, that you were willing to run into it together. 
As his words hung in the air, your inner voice echoed your silent response. You fought with all your might to wake up, to bring your consciousness back to your body, to reach out and tell Ghost that you were there, you wanted to tell him that you were willing to stand beside him, to face whatever darkness the world had to offer together.
But you couldn't speak or move, you could only feel. You felt the touch of his hand on yours. You felt the sincerity in his voice, the love that had remained hidden for too long.
With every word, you fought to regain control, to claw your way back from the abyss. Ghost's confession had breathed life into your soul, and you were determined to answer in kind.
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alexias-putellas · 2 months
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the grudge (3) // barça femení x reader
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barça femení x reader
part one part two
warnings: few swear words, mentions of an injury. nothing much! also let’s pretend that said injury would be assessed and handled quickly for the sake of the plot :))
-
you breathed shakily as the elevator jolted suddenly, whirring back to life. katie’s words still hung thick in the air, almost suffocating you as they stole the air from your lungs.
she was waiting for a response. her foot nudged yours and you were hesitant to pull it away, momentarily wanting nothing but her.
you tried not to feel bad about it. sure, she may have shattered your heart but it was once hers. and it was hers for a very long time. so you really did try not to hate yourself for wanting to do nothing more than to curl up in her arms and have her tell you that everything would be okay, that it would all work out in the end.
you stood up, ignoring the way your legs shook underneath you, facing the doors. nearly there, you reminded yourself.
the elevator soon dinged and you found yourself staring at the lobby of the hotel. katie’s arm brushed against yours as she walked out, sending chills through your body, and you stepped out too. for a moment, you watched her leave.
you brushed off the frantic questions and apologies from the staff, quietly assuring them that there was no damage done. everything was fine.
fine fine fine.
the stairs seemed to be the safest option so you slowly climbed them, sighing heavily when you reached your floor.
really, you shouldn’t have been so surprised to find mapi in your room when you pushed the door open. ingrid had always struggled to keep things from the spaniard.
you kicked the door shut and dropped onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling.
“so?” mapi asked, sitting next to you and nudging your knee.
“well,” you let out a breath. “we got stuck in the elevator for what felt like forever, that’s why we were gone so long.”
mapi’s lips curled as she laughed and you slapped her arm. “lo siento but that is funny. what if she did it on purpose?”
you rolled your eyes. “anyway, she apologised.“
“for everything?”
“for everything,” you confirmed with a nod. she looked at you expectantly, nudging you again when you stayed quiet. “oh my–do i really have to tell you everything?”
“sí. go.” mapi waved her hand and you rolled your eyes.
“like i said, she apologised. and she told me, well, everything. long distance bothered her way more than it bothered me but she was too scared to end it so she tried to make me hate her so that i would end it. i suppose it worked. she never cheated–“
“she told you that?” mapi asked and it was then you realised that she’d moved to lay next to you.
“i asked her, yeah. she can’t lie to me, or to anyone, she’s a terrible liar.”
“if you say so.” the spaniard muttered.
“caitlin and lia had just broken up as well and katie wanted to make herself feel better, it just so happened that caitlin was the thing to do that,” you explained, taking a breath. “they broke up, mapi. katie ended it like two months ago.”
“¿por qué?” mapi’s voice was soft and she reached over, entwining your fingers and resting your hands on her stomach.
“i don’t know, she didn’t tell me,” you shrugged. “but she did say that she wanted to try again. as friends.”
“and you said?”
“nothing,” you admitted. “i didn’t know what to say. what could i say?”
“no. you say no,” mapi turned to look at you. “unless… you did not want to say no.”
“you really need to think about it, kjære.” ingrid’s voice sounded from the bathroom.
“oh my god,” you huffed as she walked out. “are you two ever apart?”
they ignored your quip.
“i’m serious,” ingrid said, taking a seat on the other side of you. “just because she said the right things today doesn’t mean she will tomorrow. or the day after.”
you looked between them. “do you think it’s a bad idea?”
“sí.” mapi answered immediately, ingrid reaching over to slap her lightly.
“it is not for us to decide but you do need to think it through. you miss her, it is only natural. but she broke your heart. she lost your trust. and she might never get it back. it might seem like a good thing now but what if a few months down the line she wants to take things further and you don’t? or you do and she doesn’t? what if you become friends and she gets back with caitlin? i know you said she didn’t cheat but you’ll always have that doubt in the back of your mind. she broke you, elskling. i do not want to see her do it again, none of us do. you are thinking with your heart and you need to be thinking with this.”
ingrid gently tapped your forehead. she was right, she always was. it wasn’t a decision to be made lightly and you knew that one way or another, it would end in a broken heart.
you pushed yourself up with a sigh, pulling ingrid into a quick side hug. mapi was quick to wrap her arms around you both, tugging you to lay down as you burst into giggles.
“maría!” you squealed as she dug her fingers into your sides. “get off! we need to go!”
“yes, maría, vamos.”
you snickered at the look on mapi’s face and decided to let ingrid deal with her. as you opened the door, you ended up coming face to face with patri and pina, who were just leaving their room.
fighting them wasn’t worth it so you let them sandwich you as you all made your way down to the lobby, ingrid and a grumbling mapi following.
london was once your home and when you were hit with the cold air, you really began to miss it. you walked behind the girls for a bit, hands stuffed into the pockets of your puffer coat.
no longer wanting to be alone with your wandering thoughts, you sped up and wedged yourself between ona and lucy, grinning up at them both.
“i’ve beat you both at the emirates.”
ᡣ𐭩
it was a sick twist of fate.
katie was a physical player. you knew that, of course you did.
and you also knew better than to let your concentration slip on the pitch.
you don’t really know how it happened. you were ready to send the cross in to aitana but katie slid in, catching your ankles again. your hesitation meant that you landed in a tangle of limbs with a horrendous throbbing in your ankle.
you couldn’t hold the sob back and you glared at katie through your tears as she scrambled to stand. to her credit, she immediately motioned for the medics before turning back to you.
“don’t,” you spat as she kneeled by your ankle. “get away from me, katie. get the fuck away, i swear to god.”
the swarm of red and yellow drowned out her rushed apologies and you covered your face with your arm, sobbing into your skin. what you didn’t see was the ref holding a red card up and a distraught katie being comforted by alessia and kyra.
alexia was kneeling by your head within seconds, trying to pry your arm off. “where?”
“ankle,” you choked out, just catching her sharp intake of breath. “want leah, someone get leah. please, i want leah.”
leah’s name was screamed almost immediately and she was kneeling on the other side of your head before you knew it.
“i’m here bubs.” she whispered, grabbing your hand and squeezing it.
“she broke it, lee!” you cried. “she broke my fucking ankle!”
mapi’s words from the other game echoed around in your head and some part of you wanted to laugh. laugh away the pain and the fear. but you couldn’t.
“i know,” she said. “and i’m gonna kill her for it, don’t you worry.”
you focused on leah’s soft coos and not on the way the medics were stabilising your ankle and gently moving you onto a stretcher.
“stay with me.”
“i’m not going anywhere.” leah assured you, walking alongside the medics as you were brought off the pitch.
the stadium shook as the crowd clapped. salma was announced as your replacement and she squeezed your free hand before running onto the pitch. it was clear to everyone that neither team wanted the game to carry on, everyone looking jittery as the game started again.
and to the players on and off the pitch, it felt like it lasted forever. nobody wanted to stay on the pitch after the final whistle, no one was in the mood to congratulate and console. there was no desire to stand around and chat. barcelona’s impressive away win was tainted.
you were curled up on the hospital bed, the plaster cast a heavy reminder of what you were so desperate to forget. sobs still wracked your body, your face hidden by the red puffer jacket wrapped around you.
leah was comforting you the best way she could. by being there. her hand stroked your hair but she didn’t speak. you didn’t want her to and she knew that. she was there and that was enough. her phone buzzed and she reached into the pocket of her coat to pull it out.
“hey,” she whispered once your sobs had died down. “some of the girls were thinking of coming, is that okay?”
“no.”
leah frowned but nodded, texting keira back at a speed she didn’t know was possible. “i don’t have my car so someone needs to drive us, bub.”
“beth.” you whispered.
the blonde nodded, sending yet another text before moving to the other side of the bed, helping you sit up. your face was red and splotchy, eyes bloodshot and throat sore. leah’s frown deepened.
she handed you your crutches and you grabbed them with shaky hands, thankful that she was there to help you steady yourself.
“ready?” she asked quietly and you nodded in response.
you made your way slowly out of the building, being greeted by beth and viv straight away. they both hugged you gently and if you weren’t stuck in your own head, you’d have heard their whispered apologies and support.
leah helped you into the back of the car, letting you lean against her with your leg stretched across the seats. the car ride was deathly silent, no one really knowing what to say.
it wasn’t so much the injury that was bothering you more than the thought of who was partly at fault. katie never meant to hurt you and deep down, you knew that. no matter who was tackling you, the outcome would’ve been the same.
but you needed someone to blame, somewhere to place all the hurt and the anger. so you gave it all to katie.
when beth pulled up outside of the hotel, the car door was opened and you were met with ingrid’s concerned face. she helped you out of the car and you hobbled up the stairs, faintly hearing her thank leah before being told what the doctors had said.
alexia greeted you in the lobby, a deep frown on her face as her stomach dropped. your face was void of emotion, a horrible emptiness behind your eyes. she’d seen that look before. you’d sported it for weeks when you’d told them about your break up.
it hit her like a ton of bricks when you breezed straight passed her, not even bothering to spare her a glance.
they’d lost you again and alexia wasn’t sure if they were ever going to get you back.
-
okay so i’m not completely in love with this part. it feels rushed and dramatic and all over the place. but you guys have been so patient and supportive that i can’t bear the thought of keeping you waiting any longer. i hope you enjoyed it regardless <333
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auggieblogs · 6 months
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heartbreak girl | MV1 (pt.1)
part II
Summary: "I've loved you since we were kids, y/n, ever since I saw you at your 4th birthday party. I told my ma I was going to marry you someday."
Pairings: Max Verstappen x fem!reader
Warnings: language, mention of alcohol (and throwing up because of it)
Author's note: Heyyyy, hiii, lovelies. I hope you all are doing good!!! This fic is heavily inspired by "heartbreak girl" by 5sos, thank you to @navia3000 for requesting this (and thank you for LITERALLY breaking down the song for me😭🫶🏻). I know it's not completely based off the song but I tried my best. Anyways, happy reading, everyone<3
P.S.- This is definitely not my best work but I tried okay??? I really hope y'all like it and hopefully there will be a part 2.
―୨୧⋆ ˚masterlist
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One thing you should know about Max Verstappen is that he harboured an intense loathing for one person in the world: Connor Smith, your now-ex-boyfriend. Max despised Connor with every fibre of his being. Connor was, in Max's eyes, a complete fuckwit, a lousy boyfriend who had repeatedly let you down. He never made time for you, often left your texts unanswered for hours, and failed to treat you the way you deserved. To make matters worse, he disrespected you, and that ignited something in Max, a desire to punch Connor's face every time he laid eyes on him, perhaps?
On the other side of the emotional spectrum, Max was head over heels in love with you. He was a silent, lovesick puppy, adoring everything about you – your infectious smile, your contagious laughter, your passion for music, and all those little quirks that made you uniquely you. Yet, despite these profound feelings, Max was too much of a pussy to confess any of this to you. His fear held him back, and it was the reason he watched you date Connor, even when he knew you deserved so much better.
But life has a way of unravelling complicated emotions. Connor eventually broke your heart. The pain was excruciating, the emotions raw and overwhelming.
Devastated, you found yourself in a mess, sprawled on your bathroom floor with a bottle of vodka in your trembling hand. Your face was flushed, your eyes bloodshot, and you felt like your world had collapsed.
Max's heart shattered into pieces as he saw you in such a fragile state. Without hesitation, he sank to the floor beside you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close to his chest. You cried uncontrollably, sobs wracking your body, and your breathing was ragged. Max's heart ached as he cradled your head, whispering soothing words to calm you.
Eventually, when your sobs ebbed to quiet sniffles, you looked up at Max. His face was etched with concern, but you hated that. You didn't want to be a burden to him. "He left" you whispered, tears welling up in your eyes once more.
"I figured," Max replied softly.
"I'm not the type of person who cries over a boy," you said, tears pricking your eyes again.
Max gently brushed away your tears, his touch comforting. "No, you're not," he said, still holding you close. You felt like throwing up, physically ill from the pain of your breakup. You had loved Connor, despite his flaws, and he had occasionally made you feel loved which only made you feel more confused and lost.
Unable to hold back any longer, you threw up, and Max was right there to help. He rubbed your back and held your hair, comforting you as a best friend would.
"Okay, shh, that's it," he said gently as you emptied your stomach. Afterward, he helped you off the floor, guided you to the sink, helped you brush your teeth, and washed your face. Max even braided your hair and performed your skincare routine for you.
Going to your wardrobe, he selected the comfiest pair of pyjamas and helped you change into them. Max knew he couldn't take away your pain, but he was determined to provide you with some distraction. After cleaning up, the two of you settled in to watch a movie in your bedroom. Max sat on the floor, close to the TV, and you were cozily nestled in bed.
Max still hadn't asked you about Connor because he knew you well enough to know that you would eventually talk about it. And you did.
Hours passed, and you finally mustered the strength to crawl over to Max and rest your head on his thighs. He looked down at you, a warm smile on his face.
"I'm really sorry," you said, your voice still trembling.
"For what?" he asked, genuinely puzzled by your apology.
"For being such a mess," you admitted, tears glistening in your eyes. "I know you had better things to do today. You shouldn't have to take care of me."
Max leaned down, brushing a gentle kiss against your forehead. "I want to take care of you," he said softly. "You needed me, and I'll always be here for you. You'd do the same for me."
A brief smile graced your lips, but it quickly faded as you voiced your deepest insecurity, "Do you think the reason he left me is because I'm not pretty enough?"
Max's heart clenched at your words, the overwhelming urge to kiss you and hold your face in his hands almost unbearable. But he knew this wasn't the right time, not when you were so emotionally vulnerable. He had to be strong for you.
"He left because he's an idiot, and he doesn't deserve you, y/n," Max said, his tone firm and unwavering. "Looks have nothing to do with it. You're beautiful, inside and out."
Tears welled in your eyes as his words washed over you. "He's the only one who's ever loved me. I've never had a boy like me, Max."
Max's heart ached for you, and for a moment, he allowed himself to stroke your hair gently. "You've always been loved," he whispered, his voice carrying the weight of years of unspoken emotion. "I've loved you since we were kids, y/n, ever since I saw you at your 4th birthday party. I told my ma I was going to marry you someday."
Max's confession hung in the air, a palpable tension that enveloped both of you. Your heart pounded in your chest as you stared into his eyes, the weight of his words sinking in. The room seemed to close in around you, and the tears welled up in your eyes as you whispered, "Max..."
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pwncez · 11 months
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  ℳℐℒ𝒦 & ℋ𝒪𝒩ℰ𝒴 .ᐟ
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꒰ 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 . . . ꒱ 6.8k word count , fem reader [ she / her prnz ] , brat reader , brat taming , reader has bangs , oral sex [ r. giving ] , sex in semi - public setting [ in car ] , lots of spit , daddy kink , pet name usage [ ex. mama, pretty girl, baby ] , fingering , creampie .
milkie’z note to you .ᐟ . . . haaaaiiii ! ‘m considerin dis a vvv late birfday present to my bbie eren < 3333 ૮꒰ྀི´ ˘ `ʃƪ꒱ྀིა been in a bit of a funk ,, hopefully dis pullz mi out of it ! lemme know if i missed anything in da tagz . dis is also kinda inspired by true eventz lolzzz have fun readin :o minorzzzzzz ! ! ! do not Do Not Do Not interact ! thanku ☁️
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ima be the one to let you know i’m done, ima hit the floor and ima start to run, i been flying’ high straight through the weather . . .
it took a couple lyrics more . . a couple beats more, for eren to realize that the tiny sniffling underlining the steady, deep tempo of the song booming out of his benz’s speakers were coming from you and not the warble of the melody drifting inside of his ears.
he glances to his right — to you in the passenger seat and it really only takes him two seconds to read your mood just from your body language.
you’re scooted close to the door, knees pointed towards it with your thighs pressed tightly together and arms folded.
“what am i going to do with you?”
the question is breathed out his nose through a tired sigh, and really, honestly — how crass of him. it could’ve just been the question in and of itself, or maybe the simple tone in how he said it, but in all sincerity, you know that it was just him. just eren, eren, eren. any and everything he does could easily have you worked up into a frenzy, all the same, calm as a june breeze within a second.
you both know what’s coming after the question is shot into the air so placidly . . and it’s you and your frantic blubbering and whiny complaints.
“w-why is it always my fault?” you’re folding your arms somehow closer to your chest and glaring at him beneath the cute, wispy bangs that hang across your forehead. “ ‘s n-not, hic . . . fair. you’re so – you’re so m-mean to me.”
when you cry, your voice drops an octave deeper. eren shouldn’t find it so endearing, but he does. when you try to speak while sniffling, he can’t help but think you sound like an adorable, whimpering fish. “baby,” he’s trying not to smile, but he feels the corners of his lips twitch and fuck, of course you catch that. no matter how minuscule, your eyes seem to actively seek out anything that could be read upon eren’s face to piss yourself off even more.
“n-now you’re f . . fucking laughing at me. for real, eren? you’re so . .” you can’t finish your sentence because another rack of sobs is shattering through your words and fuck, you’re breaking his heart right now. really.
he inhales a breath between his teeth and easily maneuvers his car out of the fast lane, to the farthest right, just so that he’s able to pull over beside the exit ramp of the interstate. “baby, stop it.” he puts his car in park and leans back in his seat. “c’mere.”
“no!” your hand falls down onto his with a loud smack when he reaches for your hips. “you think — you think ‘m a joke.”
“i don’t think you’re a joke.”
“mhm.”
a ticking silence soon sags within the interior of the car, only haphazardly severed by the hubbub of rushing cars speeding past the adjacent three lanes and your sniffs. you take a peek out of the corner of your eye, only to see eren’s face turned lazily towards yours and his head resting against the restraint of his seat. there’s a smirk playing on his soft lips — a lax smile lifting just the corner and his eyelids fall halfway into two, identical seas of rich jade.
“let’s communicate, yeah?” his voice — deep and low, leisurely drawls out. “let’s talk about this.”
you turn your face back forward.
eren continues, “so you’re mad—“
“—i’m not mad.”
fucking stubborn thing, you are. “okay, you’re upset . . that i . . . what? didn’t end up finding your favorite snacks at the store? — seriously, mama? are you crying over that?”
when given the right circumstances, you consider eren to be one of, if not, the smartest person you know. however, with you, and only with you, all of that intelligence and natural common sense seems to fly out of his big, dumb brain. “you’re so infuriating. i’m not crying over snacks, eren! i’m crying because you decided to come out of the store with your favorite snacks, while all i get is a ‘sorry, princess, they didn’t have your strawberry cream puffs and vanilla bubble tea!’ and when i tell you to stop at les deux magots so that i can at least get my favorite wafer cookie frappuccino, it’s ‘no, it’s too far.’”
your nose is dripping, your voice is drying hoarse, you can’t stop crying, and you feel disgusting. you hate this. frantically, your little hands are up and flapping with your fingers spread as you attempt to air dry your face, all while still hiccuping and weeping, “i-it’s like, i don’t know what’s going on with you. it’s always no, no, no with me lately and it’s not fair, it’s not right, and it’s not okay.”
eren has been listening attentively to you this entire time, figuring that it’s the least he can do since it seems you were clearly broken about something he did. per contra, he finds it hard to tune back into your whiny complaints and garbles once the true reason of what this whole fiasco decided to fester into presents itself.
“i’ve said no to you only four times this week,” he has to raise the tone of his voice just the slightest bit to break through your high pitched squeaking.
he lets you both sit in silence for a moment, let’s you relish that split second of you still being in the ‘right.’ “and lets name those four times, hm? you waking me up in the middle of the night wanting me to help you bake cupcakes,” he lets his thumb lift to represent the number one. “you threatening to shut off my pc while i played because you wanted to use it to online shop, knowing you have two phones and a mac. three, you gettin’ an invite and askin’ me to go hang with that fuck twat michael—“
your voice is feeble when you murmur that, “he seems nice. he always compliments me—“
“—i really don’t give a,” eren bites his tongue, drags a rough hand slowly down his face and blows out a calm breath. “. . . and four, you asking me to drive you sixteen miles out past our destination to les deux magots, while knowing we have an engagement party to get to.”
your silence is deafening, however it says a lot to eren. you feel stupid, and you’re sinking lower and lower into your seat — fighting to curl into a ball of embarrassment upon realizing that maybe, perhaps, hypothetically your reasons for crying were a little . . daft.
eren watches you simply reach into the glove box for a kleenex and start to dab your cheeks bare from the sticky tear tracks that resided upon the soft skin. ruining your pretty make up for nothing — the thought rushes swiftly through his brain. he’s . . amazed, really, absolutely fascinated at how you can go from being a sobbing mess to an ossified terror after being called out on her shit.
“you’re spoiled,” he tells you, as though stating an obvious fact. “you’re a spoiled fuckin’ brat who throws a fit when she doesn’t get her way, never mind the millions of times you do. i deserve an apology.”
he hears you grumble something . . something that sounds an awful lot like, “you deserve my fist in your eye socket.”
and, really, now that the topic of conversation is here — something that eren’s been meaning to talk to you about for months now, he doesn’t think he wants to let it go. finds that he indisputably can’t let it go upon him reaching for the gear shift to place the car back in motion. his foot is on the gas for all but two seconds prior to the recollection of yesterday’s fiasco popping into his brain.
you had given him the silent treatment for the entirety of six hours due to the simple fact of you getting upset after wanting eren to watch an episode of hello kitty and friends with you and receiving his answer which was, ‘ later baby. ‘ he had just got off work — an entire ten hour shift at the tattoo shop where for seven, he had been straining his eyesight and cramping his fingers for a particular, intricate back piece and he had only wanted to come home and sleep.
the car stops once more, this time, with a firm jerk that almost has your forehead meeting the leather of his dashboard. “eren.”
“say i’m sorry.”
upon you turning your head to face him, you see that his handsome face is completely void of emotion — eyebrows lowered, lips rested, hands hanging idly between his thighs. you realize that he’s serious.
the sheer audacity.
apologize for what? you didn’t do anything wrong. you scoff . . . candidly staring at him, letting the blankness of your own face do all the talking for you.
his eyebrows jump above piercing eyes, thick and dark, and the mellow baritone of his voice is a little quieter when he asks, “you’re not goin’ to say it?”
you make a show of slowly crossing your arms, your legs, releasing a big huff, and turning back forward. “no.”
quietly, almost silently, you hear him murmur an ‘okay’ underneath his breath. through your peripheral vision, you can see him nodding as he faces back forward as well.
the sudden stillness of the car makes your heart beat’s skip as he places it back in park, takes his foot off of the gas, and pushes the button located beside the wheel to cut the engine.
eren’s over it. he’s over your fucking attitude, it’s getting ridiculous at this point. his eyes are focused outside of the windshield at the rushing cars, zooming towards the ramps and merging lanes when he tells you to, “hop in the back.”
“what?”
he sniffs, leaning comfortably back within his reclined seat to pluck his phone from the cup holder and open it to shoot a quick text. “hop. in. the. back,” he repeats slowly, not bothering to look at you, even so as his thumb taps at the screen upon his keyboard. “i’m not goin’ to say it again.”
you hesitate. he can’t be serious.
disregarding the obvious fact of you knowing that your boyfriend was absolutely smitten and besotted with every and all things you, you also know that it is very, very difficult for eren to get upset with you.
his amiable patience and lenience seems to be only saved for you. you’ve witnessed him fire an employee over the phone with emotion desolate from his voice as you gagged on his cock buried inside of the tight channel of your throat, saw him throw a punch so hard into jean’s face for making a sly comment on your tits sitting pretty within the bustier of a pretty sundress that the guy had to be hospitalized for a cracked nose bridge.
in spite of all this, of your whines and grumbles and pouts and dramatic cries, eren remains sweet on you. gently coo’s and cradles your face within the calloused cups of his palms, shushes you quietly with delicate kisses, gifts you every and anything you want and then some.
today, right now, you’re aware that you’ve hit a switch.
you watch his thumb clip a final tap against the screen of his phone and hear the airy swoosh as a text message gets sent through then delivered. when he plops it back down inside of the cup holder, he looks at you again and you stare back.
his eyebrow twitches — the left one, near the tail end. you find that the tiny muscle faithfully does so each time before he meets his final breaking point. saw it when he punched jean, watched it nip and jerk as he took that phone call, when he finds several splatters of bird droppings on the windshield of his car in the morning before work . .
you both move at the same time.
his strong hands reaches for your waist as you squeak and squirm your way pass the narrow opening between the two front seats to make your way towards the back. “e-eren,” your voice is frail, almost completely broken, as you plop down within the seat behind the passenger’s, watching eren heave an irritated breath. “eren, don’t.”
“yeah, okay,” is all he utters in reply, shoving open his door.
with the opened port comes the sound of rushing cars, cutting through thick wind and firm tires across the slight grooves that run horizontally across the seven laned track. eren doesn’t shut it — not yet. upon the door, he uses a button to lift the upper section of the seat from its lounged position so that it sits more upright, then another beneath it to slide it closer to the wheel.
when he slams it closed, you jolt and bury your little fists within the soft fabric of your pretty, pink dress — mid thigh length and made out of the finest chiffon. he had bought it for you . . told you that as soon as he saw it, he imagined you in it and knew you’d look like a dream. eren’s face is inscrutable as your eyes follow it through dark tint, the only things revealing his true emotions being his taut jaw and unceasingly twitching eyebrow. beneath the wispy strands that hang across your forehead, you watch him open the back one and climb in.
you don’t know what he’s going to do . . . and honestly, that terrifies you.
“can’t even say sorry,” he’s mumbling underneath his breath, nimble fingers reaching for the gold ‘ CD ‘ that compose his belt buckle to unloop and pull loose with a firm tug. “why do you — . . god, why the fuck are you so . .”
he stops himself, fingers pause from unbuttoning his jeans and there’s a beat of silence. eren seems to get a hold of himself — snapping his mouth shut, leaning his head back, and closing his eyes. poise and self control one of his strong suits, a trait that you lacked and admittedly found yourself yearning for. his face is serene as one of arms hands fall limp onto the seat within the middle of you and your eyes are big, watching him flick his fingers to the direction of his jeans. “off,” he murmured, tone quiet. “unbutton ‘em.”
you falter for a moment, thick heels of your medusa platforms knocking against the door as you go to kneel beside him and use your fingers to delicately unfasten the button of his jeans.
eren drops his head when he feels you unzipping them, eyes carefully honed in on your nails — almond shaped, freshly done, painted a pretty pink that ombréd out to an iridescent glitter. pretty charms are glued to each one. he slowly drags them up your arm, across the opulent gossamer that drape across it, the fine pearls in shape of stars that are threaded at your hip, then up towards your face and your hair, at the curls that hang down your shoulder, half of them pulled up into a pretty, spiky updo.
eren breathes a deep sigh.
so pretty — you’re so fucking pretty yet so fucking ruined.
you look up at eren once his jeans are pulled halfway down his thighs, through the delicate lines of your long falsies and he tries not to stare at you too much. at the glitter liner stroked carefully beneath your eyes, an obvious indication of the tears that are soon to be dripping down them, direly similar, and the precious little gems that trace your upper lash line. he knows that if he looks at you for too long, the glacial indifference of his mask will fall . . that he’d succumb to your every yen and wish — big or small, sane or not.
“c’mon,” is all he tells you, settling his heavy hand against the base of the back of your neck. “you know what to do.”
you try not to pout too much. he’s not giving you his attention and that hurts. this is the prime reason why the both of you find yourselves within this dilemma right now. you can’t help but grumble, hooking your fingers within the band of his briefs and pulling them down, “spoiled,” you gently scoff. “how can i be spoiled when the only thing i’m spoiled with is neglect.”
“what?”
you don’t look up at eren, albeit you feel the grasp he has on your neck tighten as you continue to disregard him, more focused on his cock, not yet hard, though not soft neither. you trace absentminded, little loops along the top of it with your nail, admiring the dark tan, colored at his base that fades into a light rouge near the tip. there are two thick veins lined on the right side, almost shaping a scraggly-looking heart and you’re leaning in to give it a tiny kiss when eren grips you by the underneath of your face, snapping and forcing you to look up at him.
you choke on your next inhale, face suddenly cowed.
his is still placid.
“nah,” he murmurs, tightening his fingers upon your cheeks to make your lips pucker a bit. “say what you said again . . lemme hear it.”
you shake your head, “no.”
his eyebrows lift, corners of his lips lower, “mm — no?”
“nuh uh.” you grip at his wrist, trying to push his hand away. no avail.
eren suddenly gives a chuckle . . a low, tired one while raking back a few loose strands of his hair that had escaped the half of it that was tied up in a bun to lean his head back against his seat again. “. . . i can’t blame nobody but myself for you.” he lets you go with a nudge, pushing your face with a firm hand more over to your right shoulder to make you mewl. “ ‘s okay,” he murmurs, tossing a bended arm behind his own head. “got too lenient with you, but we can fix all that right now. c’mon — open.”
you want to put up a fight and huff and snap and rave and bite . . . but his cock looks so pretty and your mouth dampens at the simple sight of him. “y’the meanest person in the world,” you utter while settling on your tummy. “ ‘m serious, eren.”
yeah, sure.
“nah, nah, no,” he pushes your hands away when they encircle around the foundation of his dick. “no hands.”
you spout a small ‘ wow, ‘ shuffling in closer to align your mouth right above the fat head of his shaft. a pearl of pre sits atop of it, plump and viscid.
you almost reach out for his thigh to grab a hold onto at the simple taste of him once your tongue finds itself wrapped around the tip. you’re already drooling once half of his cock is slid inside of your mouth — the corner of your lips burn with the stretch.
“yeah,” eren breathes, tenderly grabbing hold of the back of your neck once more. “jus’ like that.”
he’s constantly amazed at how a nasty, little mouth like yours could feel this fucking good. and you’re messy with it . . working slow and deep, coming back up to the tip just to pucker your lips and let thick streams of your saliva drip back down, only for you to push his cock back in and slurp it up. your throat makes these tiny clicks each time the crown of his dick pokes it.
eren clenches his jaw, tensing his abdomen when you go to bury him all in your throat. “oh, god,” he swallows, involuntarily compressing his hold on your neck. “oh, fuck, ‘atta girl — ‘s my fuckin’ girl.”
still, you choke when it gets to be too much — his dick feeling as though it had been swelling to touch the walls of your esophagus once a few too many seconds pass. you pull off with a few small coughs, frothy rillets of spit connecting your lips to his dick that glistens beneath the sunlight pouring in from his opened sunroof.
you can’t seem to get enough.
you lower back down to pucker your lips against his underside, smoothing them up and down the length while precious bubbles of spit form and pop at the corners of them. and eren lets you have your fun for a while, gives a sharp tch when he sees your fingers twitch in his direction though, bites his lip to conceal the sheer amount of moans and whimpers he really wants to give . . all in efforts to piss you off a little bit more. the way he sees it, you want to be difficult? make his life a bit harder? tap dance your way across his nerves? he can do the same, if more, worse.
“tongue,” he murmurs, pulling his cock from the tight seam of your lips. you loll it out and his legs give a twitch at the sight of saliva that begins to drip from the tip. “yes.” he smacks his crown against the firm, warm muscle of it. taptaptap — a disgusting mix of his precum and your saliva conjoin to make a sticky color of milky white . . . each time he lets his cock fall on your tongue, a stream of it connects then breaks free when he pulls it back far enough, falling onto his balls, your chin, your lips. eren shivers, staring down into your eyes. they’re glazed over, perfectly misty and empty. “why can’t you be this good all the time, hm?” he huffs, rubbing his thumb along his frenulum. “always — fuck, why d’you always have to make things hard for me?”
when he starts to stroke his cock, strong, thick fist pushing up then down steadily, your eyes fall onto his balls . . plush and smooth.
your tongue laves over them, nice and slow, “don’ wanna,” you swallow, tasting him and sweet musk. “don’ wanna make you mad.”
“yeah? but you do,” his voice is strangled and quiet. sporadically, a soft moan peeks out, through the tight clench of his throat over his tongue. “ ‘s s-so bad, baby. your . . f-fuckin’ attitude, that fuckin’ mouth, ‘s so bad.”
eren never wants to make you upset, to cause you harm, whether it be physical or emotional, to be another heavy task for you to take care of within your busy day. and he knows you don’t want to neither for him, nonetheless, it’s as though you can’t help it. you’re used to getting what you want, when you want it, how you want it — when eren can’t give it to you, not in that moment, at least, you’re unable to keep from throwing a fit.
“gotta fix it,” he grabs you by the underneath of your jaw to push you up. “lay back for me.”
you’re wiping your chin free from the spit that laminates it, slowly leaning back against the seat and lifting your legs.
eren shifts his body towards your way — pressing a knee in the seat where he had previously been sitting, the other leg’s foot staying flat down against the car’s flooring. in another circumstance, you would’ve giggled at the picture he makes. all lanky limbs cramped within the back interior of this car . . and it isn’t as though the car is small, no, it’s what eren called a ‘ big body ‘ with more than enough space for you to kick out your own legs and arms, if needed be, and still have a few inches of wiggle room.
it’s just . . . eren is so big — broad shoulders, spun out arms, flexing biceps, vast legs . . it’s all long and muscled, muscled and long. when he hovers over you, you can’t help but feel like a bun in presence of a crossed wolf. his fingers thumb with your dress for a moment. you can tell he’s deciding whether to keep it on or take it off.
“off,” he utters more of to himself.
he lifts you, large palm to your back to reach for the zipper at the base of your neck and pull it down. you grip upon the black button up he wears, dipping your fingers within the open flap of the first three buttons to take hold of his chain. it’s a thick rope that dangles a small, circular emblem of your initials. “ ‘rennie?”
“hm?” he lays your dress across the middle console, prior to unhooking your bra too, tossing it away.
now unclothed, you’re left within your white and pink lace trimmed panties. “i love you very much, you k-know that, right?”
his eyes are focused on his fingers that trace the slit of your pussy through your underwear, zeroing in on the tiny, circular bulge of your hard clit, pressing up against the cotton. he gives a blasé “mhm,” finding your hole and nudging the tip of his finger inside atop of the material. “yeah, i know.”
you hiccup, heavy heels knocking against his shoulders as he angles your hips further up. “i don’t . . don’t wanna make you upset.”
“yeah?”
“mhm. i d-don’t mean to.”
“mm.”
“really, i’m — i’m a good girl, eren.”
he barks out a quick, rough laugh, turning his head to the side for a moment. you take it to offense, frowning your pretty face up. you don’t have to ask because you know what that was supposed to mean. your statement was a joke to him, a silly quip meant only to entertain him. he doesn’t think you are.
“i am.”
he lifts his eyebrows, hooking your panties onto your ass cheek to keep them to the side and into place. “yeah, and i’m the worst person in the world . . that’s what you said, right?”
when the coarse pads of his fingers touch your clit, you jerk, hand tightening around his chain. “y-you . . are,” you quiver and swallow, molding yourself back into that familiar brat façade. if he wants to label you as one, then you’d be it.
“i don’t think the worst person in the world would be touchin’ this dirty, little pussy . . especially belonging to someone who doesn’t deserve it,” he conveys coolly, voice smooth and low. “think they’d leave you here — make you fix it on your fuckin’ own.”
you huff, tipping your chin down to catch the exact moment when he sinks his middle finger inside of you, slow and deep. you tense, thighs clenching with a gasp breaking through your throat. “oh, fuck.” eren doesn’t waste any time beginning to push and pull it out of you, nice and firm at a constant, unfluctuating tempo. you grab onto his forearm of the hand whose fingers pressed inside of your aching pussy, blinking up into his eyes that had already been sharply staring down into yours.
“oh fuck, eren,” you whimper and tilt your head back against the armrest, feeling him slide his ring finger beside it.
“yeah,” he murmurs, spitting into his free palm to smooth it over his cock. “none of that now, huh? smart fuckin’ mouth’s empty.”
your pussy squelches loudly as he strokes them in and out, in and out, curling his fingers on the push inside to massage your clit from the interior of your soft, taut walls. “ ‘m still waitin’ for my sorry.”
fuck his sorry. you snap your mouth shut and turn your head towards the seat you lay across, eyes squeezing closed.
okay. eren sees what you’re doing, knows what you’re thinking. “alright.” he nods, giving his canine tooth a quick suck before pulling his fingers out and folding your legs even closer to your body. “ima get it,” he mumbles, leaning more on his weight on top of you while sliding his tip up and down your little slit. “don’t even worry.”
“yeah, ri—“
he pushes in nice and deep, letting his balls touch the pucker of your ass with a nice, small plap. he’s smiling when your eyes roll back and your hands shoot out for his hips to hold onto — pretty, white teeth glinting proudly, sharp and charming. your legs tremble. “ooh,” he chuckles, swatting a thick smack to your ass. “yeah . . there we go.”
when you manage to find your breath and remind yourself to actually breathe, a seedling of doubt and jitters plants itself right in the base of your tummy. oh god, you think. fuck, fuck, fuck. what did i just get myself into?
“ ‘s so d-deep,” you whimper and look down between your bodies, at the view of his trimmed pubes flushed right up against the throbbing pearl of your clit. “eren, slow, please?” you have to get adjusted. almost two years you’ve spent with him and you’re still not used to his size.
“yeah, i’ll go slow,” he coo’s, lowering his face down to skim his lips against yours. you melt at the scent of his cologne . . of the sharp citrus of lime and sage of his favorite conditioner that’s seemingly infused within his hair that drapes around your faces. “i’ll go slow for my baby . . yeah? feel good?”
it takes a while . . . for you to recognize that the sweet, gentle croon his voice had taken on hadn’t been sweet at all. it doesn’t hit you until suddenly his pace quickens . . and his grip tightens . . and his cock deepens inside of you. “yeah,” he chuckles over your fleeting squeaks and gasps. “ ‘s what i fuckin’ thought. take that shit.”
the car rocks on its wheels due to the sheer power of his pounds. your grip on his shirt is tight as you cry out and open your eyes — watching his fat, long cock drop in and pull out of your cunt, polished almost mockingly with your essence.
eren above you is firm . . focused . . knowing. eyes of darkened green stare down into yours, sliding down your gaped mouth to your bouncing tits then back up into your fogged eyes. you look so good — always take him so fucking nicely.
“j-jus’ like that,” you whimper. “oh . . g-god — fuck eren, p-please don’t stop.”
he slams in nice and deep, keeping himself there for a couple seconds with a deep grunt. it takes a moment for you to notice, too focused on catching your breath and the obscene stretch of your cunny trying to accommodate all that he has, nevertheless, when two too many seconds pass, you begin to whine. “eren.”
“i want my apology.”
oh my god. you roll your eyes and punch at his chest a few times, legs impatiently kicking out. “are you serious?”
eren doesn’t move, simply stares down at you, watching you return it. “. . . we can stay here all fuckin’ day, i don’t care.”
you wouldn't have caved if his dick wasn’t inside of you — if you hadn’t been craving his lips upon yours and his hands pinning you down into these seats as if he had been scared you fly away. regardless, you want it all. and so you give it, the apology, through a soft pout, face turned away. “. . ’m sorry.”
eren, always insufferable, turns his left ear your way and leans down closer, “hm?”
you heave a heavy breath, eyes rolling once more. “i am sorry, eren.”
he looks back down at you and a pretty smirk lifts the corners of his lips. “mm, is that right?” but his hips slowly begin to move and you find your limbs relaxing, allowing you to nod mindlessly to all that he was saying. “say ‘m sorry, daddy.”
you whimper, teeth gnawing on the skin of your bottom lip before you sweetly repeat, “ ‘m sorry, daddy.”
“not gonna piss you off anymore.”
his pace is slowly regaining a steady speed. you grip your soft tit within your right palm to squeeze while your other lifts up his shirt to watch his abs begin to flex as his hips moved. “oh, fuck — ‘m not . . ‘m not gonna piss y-you off anymore.”
eren smiles over his bottom lip, sharpened canines glinting. “tell me you’re gonna be good, hm. gonna be my good girl from here on out.”
your back arches, nose cutely scrunching when the tip of his cock finds the tender palette of your g-spot. “gonna be good,” you gasp, nodding your head quickly. “b-be — ‘m gonna be your good girl, daddy.”
“yeah, i know.”
he leans down, seizing your lips with his for a messy kiss. your tongues stroke against the roof of the other’s mouths, smearing spit along each other’s lips and chins which only makes your lips sleek and waxy, irregardless of such, neither of you mind. you mewl your apologies into his mouth, fisting his hair within your hand to hold on when he starts to pound his way inside of you once more. “feels so g — god, ‘m never . . never gonna make you mad aga — fuck, eren — ‘m sorry.” you’re babbling on half a brain, yet eren seems to understand.
he nods, listening, hand wrapped around your throat. “i know, baby, i know.”
you just need him to break you down a little bit, sometimes. break through that stubborn exterior of yours to carve out some well needed space for sweet docility and deference. “feel so fuckin’ good,” he breathes, giving another firm, rough slap to your ass. “my girl — my pretty girl. knows she’s all mine,” he kisses you once more, swallowing your squeals and sobs. “and i’m all hers.”
you’re wrapping your legs around his waist, ankles crossed at the root of his spine. tears, searing and thick, obscure your vision — converting the wispy white clouds that drag slowly over pale, blue skies into strands. your heart beats solidly, quickly as a familiar, swooping dip curls within your stomach. “ ‘m gonna cum, eren,” you whimper quietly, little hands scrambling for purchase on any piece of him you can find. one interlocks within the soft, waved tresses of his hair while the other holds onto hip.
“mm, yeah?” he moans quietly. “alright, go ahead. cum on it.”
eren knows that quickening his pace does nothing, that he’d fuck up the momentum . . push you both further from where you’re trying to go. he keeps himself steady, though adds more weight behind each slamming thrust, knowing you liked it deep — preferred when you could feel each and every fucking inch of him. and when your pretty face starts to morph, eyebrows folding in, top row of teeth pinning your bottom lip captive, nose crimping, eren tips his forehead to touch it against yours, making sure you hear him through your hazy brain, “cum on that shit. lemme feel it.”
when you obey, when eren feels a warm cascade of sticky, dampness coat his cock, the firm, continuous grip and release your pussy gives, trying to push it all out, your hand gripping his hair tighter, nails piercing in deeper inside of his hip, when he hears your broken sobs, his throat tightens. “a-awe, f-fuck,” he whimpers. his own brain starts to grow a little muddled, curbing his usual self control and composure into nothing. “fuck, feels so good — pussy makes me feel so fuckin’ good, mama.”
he fucks you through your orgasm nice and thorough, thrusts hard and stable. you’re nothing — tout de suite, nothing but a shell. “e-eren,” your hands find his face, cradling it between your soft palms. when you open your eyes, you find that the man above you is completely gone. forehead still pressed against yours, eren has his own eyes closed though he kept murmuring quietly underneath his breath, giving low, little whimpers and grunts, “s-shit, i don’t wanna stop,” his voice hitches on a breath, shaking his head. “don’t make m-me stop . .”
you mewl with him, feeling the product of your orgasm dripping down to your hole, to the seats, smearing up the both of your thighs. “wan’ you to c-cum, though.”
his stamina — an ability you both loathe and adore. you feel as though you’re already approaching your second release for the day while he seems only halfway towards his wire.
it’s rare when eren gets like this . . utterly lost within you and only you. you don’t know what to call it, if it’s healthy or not, if you both should talk about it more thoroughly, nonetheless, you do know that time is limited, space is, too. you kiss him while unbuttoning the rest of his shirt to slide your palm up the rocky, tatted plane of his abs, “inside,” you gasp, “cum inside. make me full.”
you’re breaking him.
eren curses, lifting up as much as he can to grab you by the waist. “f-fuck, alright,” he swallows and pulls you in, blatantly beginning to use on his cock. he stops moving his own hips, instead, trades it for pulling you off then back in on it. “shit, ‘s so good,” fervently, he chuckles beneath your squeaks. “take it . . take it. mhm, there you go.”
when your hand reaches down, when eren sees your pretty fingers begin to rub your little clit in furious circles, the sight is so . . perfect. your body glistening with sweat, the thick shaft of his dick splitting the fat lips of your pussy wide open, how it’s almost completely covered with your cream — it all makes him suddenly pin your legs up to your shoulders and he completely drapes his own weight on top of you, taking over the reigns to quickly pound into you, urgently chasing his orgasm. “fuckfuckfuckfuck — don’t move, don’t f-fuckin move.”
you hiccup, “‘mcumming’m — o-oh god.” tears drip down your temples. your breaths are thin and strained as eren keeps you where he wants you, not stopping, not halting even for a second until he feels it — the base of his cock swelling with an influx of cum that shoots out the minute you touch him. eren slams his hand against a seat’s headrest, gripping it tight while burying himself as deep as he can inside you, not budging. he gives a long, low groan, thighs twitching. “every s-single drop,” he utters, voice hard. “ ‘s all yours. take every f-fuckin drop.”
you nod, brainless, watching him slowly tilt his head back while breathing. his load is a lot, you think you count at least nine shots until he was pressing himself somehow even closer. “it’s dripping,” you sniffle.
eren feels himself slowly re-emerging from that fog. it takes a minute for your words to catch up to his brain, however, when they do, he looks down at you — at the predicament you both were in, folded up and cramped within what looks like one seat. “oh, shit,” he whispers and slowly pulls himself up and out.
globs of milky white immediately follow, dripping from your pussy down to your ass and he breathes a handsome, soft laugh, keeping your hips tilted up while still unfurling you from the position he had you pushed in. “good girl,” he utters, giving a soft kiss to your ankle. “sorry.”
you sniffle again, watching him reach up towards the glovebox for napkins. he makes sure to keep one hand on your hip, holding you up, while searching for them and you stare at his face while he does, marveling at the strong etch of his jaw, the soft dimples that dent his cheeks, his lips, his hair, the line of his neck.
eren’s unaware of your stare once he pulls himself back with a wad of starbucks napkins in hand, mumbling about, “these things are rough . . don’t wanna scrub at you too hard.”
you make sure to be good, to keep yourself still while he cleans his cum out of you with his fingers, wiping your thighs off with the napkins carefully. your baby. he looks up at you once he’s almost done, “. . what?” he smirks, scrolling his eyes across your frame. “. . . got fucked out, didn’t you?”
you reach to throw a punch at his shoulder, “did not.”
“yeah, okay.”
your hair’s ruined, you sure your make up is, too. “the party,” you whine out. “does it at least look like i can salvage this?” you hold a hand up to your face and eren gives a small shrug. “. . ‘s just your eyes. ‘s not that bad, pretty girl.”
you grumble, not trusting his word for it. he calls you stunning in the morning with dried drool smeared across your cheeks, eye boogers, and stinky breath.
“there we go,” eren’s wiping his fingers and giving a quick, tongue filled kiss to your pussy before pulling away and chuckling at your gasp. “good as new.”
you give your little thanks, righting yourself to crawl upon his lap and kiss him softly. “i love you . . really. don’t want you to ever think that i don’t.” you know that you’re a bit of a handful, your parents like to remind you almost every single time they call, albeit, you appreciate that eren doesn’t seem to mind — that he sticks through your little fits and makes sure you know that he loves you, even so.
your pout is precious. eren can’t help but touch it tenderly with a thumb before he’s kissing you once more, “yeah? you love me?”
“mhm.”
“how much?”
“soooo much.”
eren grins, holding you tighter, “think i love you a little bit more.”
“is that right?” you giggle and peck his cheek. “wanna show me later?”
“can show you right now if you want me to.”
when his fingers start to inch for your ass, you grab them with a firm squeal, “eren, no!”
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  ❤︎ — all rights reserved ! © poutsiez !
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kumori-suwan · 5 months
Text
Time and time again his broken heart was so used to seeing the other side of his bed empty. The sheets were always just as cold as winter in Gotham, so many women came and went and none stayed. Jason believed that he was destined to forever be alone, only finding warmth in flings here and there. He was used to the women being gone by sunrise, only finding notes that broke his heart over and over again but then there was you. The sweet bubbly girl he met at the club last night, honestly he’d only went to drink and relieve some stress. Never in his wildest dreams did Jason believe he’d find someone as special as you, you two practically danced the night away together and by the end of it you had taken him home. Your home was so different compared to his, it was warm and inviting, the walls littered with family photos and books you enjoyed reading.
It was that night that sealed the deal for him, Jason wanted you to be his without a shadow of a doubt. Time would pass and you’d learn more about him and he would learn about you. You accepted his rage and took each day step by step with him, he decided not to rush things. Jason was scared you’d leave him once you two finally had sex so he waited until he was confident in you, he was so happy to be yours, you warmed his bed waiting for him each night after patrol. Then it finally happened, after months of waiting patiently he finally shared a heated moonlight with you. He used your warm crevice to blow off his extra adrenaline and steam until you were both satisfied and sleepy with pleasure. He held you so gently, the polar opposite of the beast he was just moment before when he was pounding into your guts.
“I love you Jay.”, you whispered to his sleepy face.
He hummed those special words to you, happily accepting sleep in your warm embrace. Then it happened, he woke up the next morning to an empty bed. The sheets cool to the touch as if you had never existed in them, his mind is reeling, every negative thought is rushing through his mind.
“D-Did she just use me for sex? Was I not enough for her?”, he sobs quietly.
Jason’s ready to cry once again feeling his heart shatter until he catches the scent of breakfast cooking in the kitchen. He rushes out of the room, feet slamming heavily against the floor as he raced to the kitchen to see you in his shirt cooking breakfast.
“Mornin Jay! Are you hun-“, you’re stunned to see the huge bulky man in tears as he gazes at you so lovingly, “Jason…what’s the matter?”
You turn off the stove and rush to his side, stopping just in front of him and reach up your hands to cup his face. Jason sighs feeling your soft fingers gently brush away his tears and just stares at you, his heart is overwhelmed by your presence.
“I-I thought you left. I thought you walked out because we finally had sex.”, he confessed.
You just blink away the thoughts bubbling in your head, you didn’t quite understand but you wanted to comfort him. You tapped your finger against your lips signaling that you wanted a kiss from him. He smiled and nodded his head, leaning down to steal your lips in a sweet tender kiss.
“Jason I’d never leave you like that, I’m here for the long run as long as you’ll have me. I’m not going anywhere and I don’t want you to think I’m going anywhere. I love you.”, you admit, kissing his lips every few words or so.
He hums against your lips, finally content knowing that he’s found his one and only. His goofy little ball of sunshine who would always be there for him.
“Besides my legs are super weak right now! I could barely get out of bed because of you!”, you teased watching his face burn red from ear to ear.
He chuckles and snatches you up, tossing you over his shoulder. “Not weak enough if you made it to the kitchen.”, he smiled carrying you back to the room.
He tosses you back onto the bed and cages you under his weight, happily enjoying the sound of your bubbly laughter. You kiss him again pulling him close so he never feels lonely again.
“My Jason.”, you hum, kissing away his tears.
He nods at your possessiveness, “Yeah baby, all yours. Just give me a few more minutes of cuddles and then we can eat.”
You nod your head and hold him close, warming him with your touch. This was all he needed, this security and sense of belonging. Jason only needed you.
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driaswrld · 4 months
Text
🪷 — THE SCANDAL OF THE CHILDHOOD CONSORT. . . UNRELEASED PUBLICATION 01 !
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LADY DRIA WRITES . . . ˚ ༘ *
🪷 dearest gentle reader, this author has stumbled upon a shockingly salacious tale in the dark corridors of the gojo palace... 2.3k words.
🪷 prince gojo x reader smut!! pure smut not tied into main plot, only an alternate of current storyline. fem reader, cunnilingus, creampie, yk the gist guys (also my first full smut piece 😵‍💫) for all the prince toru girlies who got their hearts SHATTERED </3
🪷 taglist : @yunymphs @prttyangelz @jaerang @rayahayumi @kurosaaki @ayanominitrash @lordbugs @xxemmarldxx @ltadoriyuujl @gods-landing @sabrinexx @aphroditisxc @sweeteaas @nikitopia @konekobby @loafgeto @/hanatoru
series mlist. prev. chapter
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CHAPTER TWO (B) . . .˚ ༘ *
GRAPE FLAVORED : LACE EDITION.
Satoru dips his head in a swift motion, his mouth planting a ghost of a kiss to the corner of your lips, and his dimples deepen when your head moves forward to chase his taste, something you’ve never had but crave with every inch of your being.
“Satoru.” You whisper, desperate. He hates himself for wanting this so bad.
He doesn't make you wait long as he presses his lips to yours, it's rough, hungry — he sighs into your mouth, shoulders drooping like he’s finally found what he's been searching for all his life on your tongue.
He’s kissed you before, on the cheek, side of your neck, corner of your mouth — tasted the salty tears of your youth, licked his lips and drank in the remnants of your flavored lipgloss.
He was too young then, too foolish, too afraid to want more.
Satoru’s tongue slips past your parted lips, teeth on wet pink muscle and a shiver runs down his spine when he tastes you, truly tastes you for the first time.
Grape flavored and starving.
A guttural groan leaves his throat when you reach a hand out to tug at the front of his pants to pull him closer. The crowned prince’s knees buckle, digging deeper into the floor beneath him.
Do you even know all the ways a woman can be seduced?
“There's so much I could teach you,” his arms hook under your knees the moment your tongue tangles with his, free hand shifting the skirts of your dress and searching like a man on a treasure hunt. “So much you could learn, pretty.”
“Teach me,” you plead, lips wet and chest already heaving.
Satoru murmurs a sound of disapproval against your neck, his tongue sucking the skin at the collar of your throat. “Not yet, have’ta give you a gift of my own first.”
( so he is jealous then ? )
Your thighs shiver when his cold hands snake under your dress, your arms looping around his neck to tug him closer to your body.
“Why do they put you in so many layers— s-shit.” His complaints falter when his palm cups the lace adorning your heat.
Satoru Gojo isn't a pious man, but this must be a gift from God.
“You're too fucking good.” Satoru groans, scooting back on his knees to hike up the layers of your dress.
He has to see the color of your panties. Has to see the lace design he knows is strewn across your pretty pussy— because you're a lace girl, never silk, Suguru doesn't know you, hasn't known you the way Satoru has.
It's vulgar.
“Satoru, waitwait—!” Falls on deaf ears, because he’s already hooking his thumbs under the waistband of your lacy panties, pulling the fabric to stretch, playing with it as your folds slick up, a wet patch forming.
He toys with the edges of the lace, pulls and pulls until he lets it snap back against your front, his breathing going ragged with each sharp inhale you take.
He likes playing with you like this.
“Look at that.” Satoru pulls your panties to the side, your cunt clenching around nothing. “Pretty girl ‘s crying for me. . .” He spreads your folds with his index and middle, his cock straining against his pants, begging for relief.
“Don't just look at it like that— you're odd!”
“Yeah?” he chuckles, rubbing his thumb over your pulsing clit, flicking the bud teasingly. “Don't break my heart, princess.”
There's an undertone to his words as he sinks two fingers into your weeping whole, pumping against spots you couldn't reach with your own.
Satoru bullies his fingers into you, searching endlessly for something he thinks he’ll never find.
tell me no one’s touched you like this, tell me it's only me, tell me it’s not him—
Your hips rise to rock against his fingers and he stifles a laugh, almost bitterly. He knows better, but you're as better as the best gets.
“Hold this f’me, yeah?” Before you can question it, the skirts of your dress are bunched into your lap as Satoru’s head dips between your thighs.
“Fuck—” your mouth goes agape as his tongue licks a fat stripe up your folds, his fingers scissoring and stretching you open in time with his licks, tongue flattening and curling and flattening and curling. “How do you even—”
how many girls have you kissed like this?
Satoru mumbles something against your clit that you don't hear, but it vibrates through your core as his tongue slips into your hole, eagerly fucking you and sucking up your juices.
Now this is a royal scandal.
“Tastes just as sweet as I knew it would,” he moans, grinding his hips against the foot of the sofa, using his other arm to push against your knee, spreading you wider for better access. “Would go to war for this pussy, baby.”
Your head spins.
You knew of Satoru's. . . appetites as a Prince.
But experiencing it firsthand? Every lap of his tongue at your entrance, every stretch of his fingers has you seeing stars.
“‘Toru—! mmph, too much,” Your hips buck against his mouth, your head falling back against the window.
The night air doesn't help cool your skin with how hot your entire body feels.
“Too much?” Satoru repeats, mockingly. His cheeks hollow as he curls his fingers, pressing against that spongy spot that has your hips quivering, lips suckling your bundle of nerves. “C’mon, you cryin?”
“M’ not— not crying. . .” You sob, thighs squeezing around his head. He slides his fingers out of you, using both hands to hike your legs over his shoulders. “So good, it's so good.”
You feel him grin against your cunt as he dives back in, his tongue and fingers tag teaming between abusing your clit in harsh circles and thrusting into your drooling hole.
He’s getting off to the praise, his hips pressed firm against the sofa as he whines against you, your ankles crossed between his shoulder blades, heels digging into his back. “Can't get enough of you.”
“Please, wan’ta cum—” Tears escape the corner of your eyes, your thighs trembling and walls convulsing around his fingers. “Gonna cum— mhm, stopstop—!”
Satoru groans against your cunt when your back arches and your hips drive against his face like a woman possessed, his nose brushing your clit just right as your high hits you hard.
“I’ll replace these.” Satoru rasps, pulling away from you with a soft squelch.
“Replace? What do you—” You can't see the expression on his face with how his head’s hidden under your dress, but your heart pounds in your chest when his fingers wrap around one of your ankles in a soft caress.
The realization hits you then, as the liquid cools and fabric sticks to the inside of your thigh.
He’s talking about your panties.
“Lace is so pretty on you,” he murmurs, fiddling with the buttons of his pants, careless to his haphazard movements as his cock springs free, curved at an angle and beading with precum at the tip. “You don't know what you do to me, I swear.”
Lace.
Like the glove you gifted him your favor with.
Your face floods with heat when he flips the rest of your dress up, your gaze never leaving his hardened cock, the way it looks so angry at you.
It comes to you then as he looks up at you, snowy hair matted, nose to chin glistening with your slick and eyes hung low.
Prince Satoru, your childhood bestfriend, just ate you out.
And he's about to fuck you.
Satoru grasps both your ankles, letting his grip trail down to your thighs as he rises to his feet.
“You're a lady. A Princess— fuck,” Your hand reaches down to wrap your fist around his hot length, and it jolts to your touch.
You deserve better, he wants to say. Better than having your legs spread open for him in a dark corridor.
“Forgive me.” Satoru pushes your thighs down to meet your chest, effectively folding your body in half for him.
i'm sorry i’m sorry i’m sorry — i love you, i’m jealous.
And you whine, your arousal dripping down your thighs, still not fully recovered from your first high. “I'm gonna fuck you like anything but a lady.” His hot length bucks forward through your fist to bump against your folds and you bite your lip at the sensation.
He’s painfully hard and spilling precum, slipping back and forth across your pussy lips.
“Let me in, princess, please, I need you.” You pump his length in a few languid strokes and he shudders as you guide his cock to prod at your entrance. “I’ll fucking die if I don't—”
With bated breath and barely any restraint, Satoru rocks his hips forward, his tip sinking between your puffy folds and popping in.
“Pretty girl.” He moans, pushing forward until he's buried to the hilt, his cock curving to prod against your insides, deep.
“Satoru—” You gasp, your walls clenching at the penetration and his brows dip as he leans over your body, kissing the side of your neck. “I know, baby. . . fuck, squeezing me so tight—”
“C-can't help it,” you whimper as he rolls his hips forward, slow at first, so you feel every inch of him filling you up, like you were hollow before this.
Satoru lets out a sharp whine, almost girlish when he picks up the pace, fucking himself into you with deep slams, one hand leaving your thigh to tug at the front of your dress, using it as grip to fuck you rougher.
It's desperate.
“Hear that?” He whispers against your skin, each pump of his hips has his balls slapping against your ass in loud wet smacks, your cunt squelching around his cock, all sensitive and gushing for him, just like he imagined.
“We're kissing down there, pretty.” He chuckles breathily.
You’d scold him but you chuckle between a moan, his hips jerking forward harshly at how your pussy squeezes him in just from that. “I-it’s so hot—”
“Sucking me in— so needy,” he grunts, slipping his other hand between you to roll your sensitive bud under his thumb. “So loud and filthy, knew you wanted this as much as I did, baby. Wanted me to fuck you like this for so long, hm?”
“Satoru!” Your back arches off the sofa as you bite back a sob, your hips rocking to meet each of his thrusts. “Wanted it— wanted you so bad.”
“Who’s making you feel so good, huh?” Satoru pants, pressing his weight down onto your body, caging you under him as his thrusts become borderline feral, the top of your dress beginning to rip from the strength of his grip. “Say it, shit, say it—”
tell me it's me and not him. tell me only i can make you feel this good.
“Y-you,” you choke out, your lungs burning as you try to catch your breath.
Satoru slows his thrusts to a grind, unsatisfied with your answer, fucking you shallow and drawing it out, his tip pressing against your sweet spots making you see white.
“Princess,” he grunts in warning, applying more pressure to your clit, your body writhing beneath him. “Don't tell me that pretty little head ‘s all fuzzy now.”
“‘Toru, please—” Your palms push at Satoru’s chest, nails digging into his shirt, the coil in your core wound tight and teetering at the edge, but he won't push it past the edge. Not yet. “It's you, my Prince— ‘s you, Satoru!”
Your Prince.
You barely get the last syllable out before he’s bullying his cock into you in harsh strokes, the sweet plap plap plap of his body against yours is drowned out by all the things he whispers in your ear, only me, nobody else, you’re mine, gonna fuck you full so you won't forget.
“Wanna cum, ‘toru,” you cry and he bites down on your shoulder, as he exchanges his grip on your thighs for your your hips, pulling you onto him as he fucks into you with reckless abandon, sweat collecting at his brow.
“Yeah? Gonna cum for me?” Satoru presses his mouth against yours in a disoriented kiss, moaning into your mouth as your walls convulse around him, his cock twitching and swelling inside you. “Cum all over my cock baby, make your Prince a mess.”
Your hips move on their own, your body flushing with pleasure and the coil inside your belly snapping, giving way to your second high.
Your legs wrap around Satoru’s waist, pulling him impossibly deeper into you while you climax, his own breathing going short.
“T-tight, fuck, gonna make me cum—” Satoru lets go of your hips and reaches for your hands, interlacing them with his above your head, his thrusts growing sloppy as he gets closer.
“Look at me, yeah, look at me when you make me cum. Look at what you do to me, pretty.”
Satoru pushes his body flush against yours as his cock twitches, his hips stuttering and nose pressed against yours, mouth open with a loud moan when he unloads, spilling himself inside you in thick spurts.
He hugs you close to his body with a few soft thrusts, fucking his cum deeper into you with broken whines, his body slumped atop yours as he rides out the rest of your highs, the air cooling and settling.
“Think I got carried away,” Satoru whispers, pressing gentle kisses across your face, and a chaste one to your lips as he catches his breath, cheeks flushed pink.
“You think?” You pant, biting back a laugh, to which he buries his face in your neck. “We need to go—”
“Don't feel like it,” he mumbles, nuzzling close to you, and your eyes flit to the window, taking in the stars.
You bring a hand up to card through his hair, and he sighs at the feeling.
“But, the ball—” You try to protest, but he cuts you off by squeezing you close to him, impossibly close. “And the grape juice—”
“I’ll replace the dress too.” Satoru whispers. “Nothing else matters— just a little longer.”
You feel him smile into your neck and you roll your eyes, laying your head back with an exasperated sigh of your own.
“Just a little longer, then.”
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saiiidahyunee · 3 months
Text
dried flower
myoui mina x reader 
synopsis: being the timekeeper is a big responsibility to fill as a drummer, but why does that internal metronome go out of control whenever you’re around your band’s manager mina? 
wc: 3.7k
warnings: smut, fluff, cursing
✩♬ ₊˚.
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a/n: mina fits the cool girl vibe so well
also the smaller text is so much cleaner here^^
i kinda like it @miinatozakiii
“fuck!”
you yell out in frustration as you throw your drumsticks down on the floor and shove the door open.
“what the hell is wrong with y/n? she’s been out of it all week!” 
you overhear your bandmate jay ask winter, the band’s leader as the whole group is left in confusion of your little breakdown as the door behind you shuts by itself.
“we only have two weeks until the gig and we need to have these songs down! she-” 
“it’s already a rough week for her as it is!” vernon shoots back as the band’s bassist, “you need to give her some slack since you’re already terrible at doing that anyway, jay.” 
“why you little-” 
“enough! both of you!” another voice is heard in the room as they look to see mina, who had been sitting in the sea of empty chairs and watched the whole thing unfold.
“arguing with each other isn’t gonna make the situation better.” mina sternly says, “i’ll step outside and see how y/n’s doing.” standing up from her seat as she exits the same door you almost busted down moments ago.
“dammit…” you sighed out in frustration as you leaned over the balcony overseeing the city lights, the breeze calming your thoughts as you continued to breathe at a slower pace, calming your heart rate. 
“figured you’d be up here.” 
you turn around to see mina, who was standing in the doorway as you leaned back against the railing, pressing your finger and thumb against the bridge of your nose as mina smirked at your distressed state, leaning over the railing to take in the view.
“what are you doing?” 
mina shakes her head at your question, “i’m just here to check on you, not as a manager, but a friend.” 
you scoff at her statement, “you didn’t have to do all that i was just-” 
“y/n, just shut up and let me listen to what’s going on in your head.” 
you don’t know why, but you feel a slight shift in your heart after mina’s sudden demand. it could be that or it could be just your fear of heights as you let your head back looking over your shoulder of the various cars on the street making their way around on a friday night. 
“why do you want to know what’s going on with me?” 
“because i have to keep everyone in shape in addition to not having one person tear the whole band apart.” mina responds, almost laughing as brushes a few strands of hair off her face from the wind. 
instead of keeping your wall up to mina since she’s the kind of person that will persist in asking questions until they get answered, you sighed in defeat as you met mina’s face, peering at the two beauty marks as she kept her eyes on you.
“i… just got out of a relationship.” you say, picking your fingernails as mina watches intently as you explained your emotional outburst. 
“stupid i know, but it’s been lingering on my mind for a week and a half now.” you continue to ramble, “i can’t think straight because of my stupid mistakes and-” 
a finger is drawn to your lips as your train of thought comes to a halt, mina’s soft side showing as her heart sank after hearing what you were going through, acting in sympathy in an attempt to mend your shattered state.
“who’s the girl?” she asks as you wave her finger off your face. 
“ryujin, i don’t know if you-” 
mina scoffs at your answer. to be fair, if it were anyone else you were telling about your relationship troubles and they did the same thing as mina, you’d swing first right on sight if that were the case. but for some reason, you weren’t offended at all by her antic; in fact, you were appalled that she was acting like this in front of you. 
“her?!” mina giggles out as you stand there speechless. 
“you can definitely do better y/n, no offense.” 
“none taken, actually, that made me feel a little bit better.” you mumble as she places a hand on your arm on the railing. 
“how bout i call practice off and we just hang out at my place?” she asks wistfully, “besides, the others don’t really need the extra practice for three additional songs.” 
you hesitated at her question as she rubbed her thumb across your forearm, looking at you straight in the eye as you bit your lip contemplating on what could happen–or what has already happened. 
so, in a brief second you scratch your temple trying to make your brain work faster in giving an answer to your manager and eventually you give her one, “okay, i’ll take your offer.” 
mina flashes that gummy smile at you, “great! i’ll go tell the others.” she says as she walks back into the studio complex as you stood there dumbfounded at what you just got yourself into. 
your eyelids flutter open a little at an unfamiliar ceiling.
as you laid on the bed motionless trying to piece together the bits of information your eyes were receiving, it wasn’t enough as you slowly sat up trying to connect the dots more. the drowsiness still present as you tried to fight the urge to fall back asleep. the more you blinked yourself awake as you hear the small whirr of a fan humming in the room, everything starts to come together–but there’s still gaps in your memory. 
the questions kept pouring in your head: “where am i?”, “who’s house is this?”, “how did i get here?” all listed as you scanned the room for anything that might help solve your predicament as you tug the comforter off of you–no pull as it seemed like it was weighed down by something.
after failing to get the comforter off, you continued to assess the unfamiliar room, and then another piece of the puzzle clicked in your head–this wasn’t your place. 
in the corner of your eye, you saw a figure form in the comforter, her back turned to you with her long black hair covering it. still asleep while you were panicking shitless trying to piece the events from last night. you shift yourself up a little bit better as you notice your bare shoulder, lifting the comforter to see that you were completely naked, adjusting the comforter more to see the figure sleeping next to you in the same appearance.  
the figure makes a murmuring sound, stirring awake as you pick up on the small sound that sounded a little peculiar, but also one that you recognized hearing before. 
no, there’s no way right? 
the figure sits up slightly as she turns around confirming everything that you feared as the person ruffles their hair, making it look more presentable. 
“mina?!” you cry out in surprise.
mina rubs her eyes together as the comforter drops down to her waist, her hair in the perfect spot in covering her tits as she yawns while you rush to cover yourself up frantically. 
“morning.” mina says nonchalantly, stretching for a bit as you stare in shock at the possibility that you just did more than just hang out at mina’s place.
well your mind tells you that the “possibility” was now all but a “certainty” as you scanned the room again to see a spree of clothes sprawled out across the room, the wine bottle and two glasses set on the nightstand that could explain one thing, but you still can’t remember all of it. 
“did we?” you ask in disbelief as mina chuckles at your stupid question.
“you don’t remember?” she asks you the better pressing question as you tried extremely hard to remember what you did–and then everything comes back.
flashes of last night came into your brain like a slideshow, giving a vivid play by play recap of what went down last night: drinking on the couch, laughing about stupid band stories, staring at mina, staring at mina’s lips and eventually…
you and mina kiss. at first it was wrong, but for some reason, there was a sense to get more.
one thing led to another from bumping into the door, stripping each others’ clothes off, you straddling mina, never ending groans here and there as you makes her way down to her–okay that would explain everything your mind tried to process but mina was the one who helped you in the end. 
as you and mina continue to stare at each other for a few more seconds, you then get off from her bed as you desperately scrounge up your belongings together, making sure that you didn’t leave anything behind, shuffling through the house as mina, now fully clothed, trailed behind you up until you reached the front door. 
“sorry i’m just confused right now, that's all mina. i didn’t mean to rush out on you like that and-” 
mina places a hand on your cheek, calming your train of thought,  “it’s okay y/n, if you need space for a bit all you have to do is just ask.” 
you scoff at her offer again, you didn’t want space away from mina, there was something about her that was comforting and it felt relaxing. then again, you weren’t so sure of yourself considering how ridiculously fast you were moving on from ryujin and in your “friendship”  with mina. 
“what if i don’t want space?” 
mina tilts her head at you, “what is it that you want?” 
“i don’t know i-” 
“maybe this will help clear your mind.” 
she draws you in for a quick, passionate kiss. you were thrown off by the contact of her delicate lips as you prop your hand just under her chin for better stability. it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary for mina to be forgoing with her actions but you happily reciprocated them as you almost fell backward.
pulling away, you sigh out in relaxation, blushing at mina’s new side as she giggles at your flustered face.
“i should be mad that it worked, but thank you.” you said as you locked your lips with hers again, retreating after, still brushing lips together.
“my door is always open for you.” mina mutters as she breaks the hug with you walking out the door. 
“i’ll let you know if i ever need that again.” 
mina hums at your small promise as you walk out of her house waving goodbye.
the next following weeks were hell for your heart and mind as things somewhat returned to normal. sure, you managed to get the songs down with the rest of the band, but you felt like something was missing.
mina wasn’t like the previous manager your band worked with in the past. she was stern, quick witted, and had a changing duality between her casual and work related persona. you learned that she was very caring in the member’s individual conditions, always understanding what they have going on in each of their lives despite her cold tone at times. 
her home also reflected her appearance as her apartment minimal, but had various expensive items that would make you think she bought them off the dark depths of the internet; it fit her that’s for sure and you catch yourself slowly getting attached to what you and her have brewing in your intimate friend/relationship? 
“everything okay with you?” vernon asks you one day before the gig your band was supposed to play at.
“yeah,” you respond, “i have most of the songs we went over for jihyo’s-“
“that’s not what i meant y/n.” vernon butts in, “i was talking about your love situation.”
even though you were perceived to be a closed off person in the band, you were fond of vernon’s quirk of always knowing how to pry through your tough shell. because of that, you and him grew close outside the studio where you usually practice.
“it’s been tough, but i’m just healing and breathing.” you say as you sip water through your pastel pink hydroflask.
“is there something going on between you and mina?” vernon asks suddenly, making you spill a few drops of water on your shirt.
“no? why do you ask?”
“i’ve seen the look you give her during rehearsals, the eyes never lie y/n, they never will.”
“she’s just a caring manager, even if she doesn’t talk as much while we practice, she makes sure to have us something to do on the weekends that way we’re not at the studio 24/7.”
vernon exhales in agreement, “you do have a point, but mina seems to get closer to you after your little episode.” you flash a look at him, astounded at his observation.
“let’s not talk about that please?” you ask as vernon laughs at your pleading request.
on one good productive rehearsal a month after your accidental one night stand with mina, you and her agreed to not let anything happen between the both of you as the band was back in strong shape with the harmonious tunes of jay’s and vernon’s guitars blending well alongside winter’s voice with the simple beat of your drums. 
everything was going well as you just let your inner metronome control your muscle memory as you lightly bash a couple licks and fills in the various songs–giving it a little bit more spice as you share glances with the other members in the band, nodding for your approval as you bopped your head to the music. 
and then you set your eyes on mina.
even for a short second, you let your hands and feet continue their work on the instrument in front of you as you stared at mina a little too long as her eyes mirrored yours, looking away to your ipad off to the side trying to cover your flushed expression. while you were doing that, mina bit her lip at the sight of you drumming away as she watched the band play out.
once you guys were cleaning up, you were getting your drums in the case as you took inventory of all your necessary equipment as you picked up the sounds of footsteps walking to you.
“jay, for the last time i already said no to your drinks offer.” you say as you look up to not see jay, but her instead. 
“oh hey…” you say softly as mina flips her hair to the side.
“just wanted to check up on you, how are you doing?” 
“i’m fine.” you respond as you shove your bag of drumsticks into the bass drum case, “i still need to listen to the last song but otherwise, i’m good.” 
mina takes the small foot stand from vernon’s spot as she sat on it while you matched her height on one knee. the chemistry that's been concocting from simple “hellos”, longing stares, and that slender neck that you’ve marked multiple times that night as mina also seems to have the same thoughts that you were having.
“y/n, we’re waiting outside are you sure you want to-” 
winter walks back into the room as she forgot her phone to see you and mina get unbelievably close, standing in a bit of a shock as you and mina try to play it cool, making it look like mina was helping you get the last parts of your drumset into the bag. 
“it’s okay wint, i was gonna go back home anyway, too tired as of late.” you say, sliding your ipad into your handbag as mina got up to turn off the lights on the other side of the room. 
“you sure?” 
“yeah, i’m sure.” 
“if you say so and oh!” 
you turn back to winter as you shoulder your bag, pursing your lips at winter’s lingering offer to bond with the band members some more.
“i’m glad that you’re moving on from ryujin, she didn’t really seem the kind of person to fit you anyway.” she ways as she turns around and walks out, earning a scoff from you as you look down at your feet from the sentence you just heard. 
“you had no idea how much i wanted to hear that.” you mutter to yourself as you see mina return back from checking the lights of the small studio. 
“wanna get out of here?” mina asks you as you ponder her question for a little bit longer than you should’ve as she stares at you promisingly that you’d take up on her offer again.
is it okay for me to do this with her? what if history repeats itself with mina? will i make the same mistakes i did with ryujin and how could i live with myself if the others found out that i’ve slept with our manager- 
you freeze for a second as mina grabs your hand, pulling you to the exit.
“let’s go y/n.” she says, you nodded as you followed her out, your hand gripping hers tightly as your heart shifted again at mina’s action. 
that same shift happened again as you and mina didn’t even make it past the front door. 
it’s fast, hazy, and hot–your brain was sending all the right signals to your limbs as you were driven by mina’s lips all over you. 
gripping her hair as she presses you against the door to her apartment, letting out a few soft moans in her mouth as she blindly opens the door behind you. stepping backward as your hands had more roughness, grabbing mina closer as she pulls away for a second to breathe.
“are you sure about-” you whisper at a loss of words, “why-” 
“stop.” mina groans, her lips sloppily placed on the edge of your lips, “just don’t think for once.” 
mina’s hands begin to discard your dark grey hoodie as you shuffle through the house, groans echoing in the hallway as you refuse to push mina away, reaching the room and crashing onto the bed as she mounts on top of you.
“don’t fight what you need, embrace it.” mina whispers in your ear as she pulls away from you, gazing at your lowly state as you try to get up, only to be pushed down back onto the mattress. “mina what the-” 
“shhh.” she coos, biting her lip at the sight of your flushed cheeks as you tried not to make eye contact with her. mina’s hands working your pants as the growing sensation between your legs grew more and more the closer she took your clothes off.
“you’re so pretty for me when you’re like this.” mina hums as you whimper at the sound of her rasping voice. your eyes meet hers as you were clearly aroused with how she wanted to take control the second time of hooking up.
“mina,” you start off saying shakily, “don’t hold back. show me how badly you want to wreck me.” 
mina hums at your demand, giving her the greenlight as she runs a finger through the damp cloth of you soaked underwear, sliding it off your legs smoothly, tossing it away carelessly as she smiles at the beautiful sight of you, kissing your neck again making her way down to the lower half of your body.
at this point, you didn’t care if it was right or wrong, nor the fact that you couldn’t remember the last time you slept with mina. all that mattered was how hot mina was making your body as she slotted herself between your legs, her breath right on top of your entrance, gripping the bed sheets as she was teasing up until the last moment of bliss you so desperately needed.
you gasp as your back arched once mina parted your folds open, tongue flicking up your dripping core as she purrs in delight of the first tastes of your slick juices. fuck who cares if you didn’t remember what you did with mina the first time, you just wanted to enjoy the moment of her going down on you as your heart was racing uncontrollably. 
“my f-fucking god.” you breathed out as mina continued to ravage you, gripping her hair as she clutched onto your legs, nearly scratching them with her well trimmed nails. 
the pace of her tongue in you, stimulating your senses to the point where your mind felt like you were one with the clouds. what seemed like forever she was down there as it elevated to a whole different level when she started to pump her fingers inside to push you more faster to the edge. hands grasping the bed frame to the point where it could break with your back and head pressing further and further down as you were making incoherent sounds of how good you were getting fucked. 
“i’m so clo-hngh!” you moaned loudly as your body shook in mina’s face, still taking in all of your slick from climaxing as your body starts to relax, sinking into the bed as mina relentlessly cleans you up as you lay there barren, mind still hazy from the absolute pumping you just received from your crushing manager. 
mina laps up the last of your cum as she ingests the last of your taste on her fingers as she helps you sit up against the headboard, pampering you with more kisses for a few more minutes as you regain your senses. 
you lean your head back as she plants her lips on your neck once again, stopping as she notices you raised your hand up, looking at her with half-lidded eyes as bundles up across from you. 
“something on your mind?” mina asks you as you finish catching your breath.
“i don’t know,” you reply, “it still feels like i don’t deserve what we have going on but,” mina tilts her head at your reason.
“my heart races and my mind feels at ease whenever i’m around you.” 
“that so?” 
you hum, nodding at her question to confirm her odd suspicion, kissing her knee as you shift yourself on the bed, ignoring the throbbing core in your thighs as you ran your thumb on your bottom lip. 
“i like this side of you mina, especially the one you had just now.” 
mina snickers at your observation, you flash a soft smirk as she meets your eyes again, running her hands through her dishelved hair before leaning forward for another kiss.
“that’s what happened the last time since you look like you don’t remember, so now we’re even.” 
“what do we even call this?” you ask her as you hold her hand.
“we can be whatever you like, just as long as you let me go down on you like that.” 
your heart shifts again as you and mina share a laugh together on the bed, and this won’t be the last time for moments like these. 
404 notes · View notes
iamnotoriginalphil · 4 months
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Your New Girl (Melissa Schemmenti x f!Reader)
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Synopsis: You ask Melissa to help you get back at your ex when you lie and say you have a new girlfriend
Words: 4.6k
Warnings: low self esteem, asshole ex girlfriends, alcohol
“I need to ask you a massive favour.”
You closed the classroom door, pressing your back to it. Looking up from over the top of her glasses, Melissa considered you for a long moment. Her lips pursed and in one horrifying moment it came crashing down what a bad idea this had been.
“You know what? Never mind.”
You spun, hand already on the doorknob.
“Whaddaya want?” she asked before you could flee.
You sighed, turning back around. The expression on her face was not helping with the nerves in your body, nor the belief she was about to tear you a new one.
“Look, uh… you know how Ava tricked me into going to the club with her tonight?”
“Uh huh,” you said, the expression on her face darkening.
“Well, through a horrible set of circumstances my ex girlfriend was here, talking to Ava who invited her tonight and I might have mentioned that I have a super hot girlfriend as she was leaving and she said she couldn’t wait to meet her tonight,” you rushed out, watching her incredulity deepen, “and I don’t have a super hot girlfriend and I can’t just not show up because then she’ll know I lied.”
“Why do you care what she thinks?” she asked.
You took a deep breath, not wanting to admit the reason. But the way she was looking at you said you had to or she’d never give you what you wanted.
“She broke my heart. Like shattered into a million pieces on the floor broken. And when she left, she told me it was because I wasn’t good enough for her, and that she’d already found someone better. Salt in the wounds and all that,” you said, “so I guess I just wanted her to know that I’d moved on and she didn’t destroy me.”
The look of pity that crossed her face was the opposite of what you’d wanted to see. You sighed.
“Hon…” Her voice had softened.
“Don’t. Don’t with that voice. I didn’t come here for that.” You pointed at her, advancing on her desk.
“Then what did you come here for?” she asked.
“Right.” You couldn’t forget to actually ask, “I need a super hot fake girlfriend. Janine is annoying, Barbra is Barbra, and she’s already met Ava. And I know it’s a big ask, but would you be willing to pretend with me? Just for one night? I’ll buy you an entire dozen donuts from that place you love.”
“You want me to go to a club with Ava?” She raised one eyebrow.
“Two dozen,” you said.
She considered you for another long moment. You fidgeted in front of her, knowing you were asking too much of her. Of course she’d say no. No one wants to go out with Ava. Least of all Melissa. And it didn’t matter that you were kind of friends with her, not when you were asking her for so much.
“Deal.”
“What?” You must have missed something, “seriously?”
“Sure, hon. As long as you’re good for those donuts,” she replied, turning her eyes back to the work she’d been grading, “text me what time to pick you up.”
Returning home to your sad, depressing apartment, you could feel yourself freaking out. You were going to spend the night with your ex while pretending Melissa was your new super hot girlfriend. Melissa was going to be touching you. Melissa was maybe going to be flirting with you. Melissa, the most intimidating woman you’d met who you’d been half in love with for the last year, was going to be your fake girlfriend for the night. You were so fucked.
You’d shot yourself in the foot by asking her to be the one to help you with the situation you’d created. It must be self sabotage to ask the only woman who could destroy you to do this for you. The only woman you knew who could ruin you inside and out with barely more than a smile.
And yet as you got ready you did it with the hope of her finding you sexy enough to maybe see you more as than just a teacher she worked with.
The buzzer sounded just as you zipped your boots up. Were thigh high boots a smart choice? Probably not, but with your dress they made you look hot. Hopefully.
“Come on up,” you said into the intercom.
The pounding on your door had a tinge of annoyance in it already. You pulled it open, almost reeling back when you saw Melissa standing on the other side. Your eyes scanned her body, lingering in places that weren’t appropriate for a work colleague. Pants practically painted on, tight top with cleavage pushed up, she was the exact kind of vision you imagined late at night when your hand wandered.
“Well shit, hon, don’t you look like a heartbreaker,” she said.
Your cheeks heated and you felt jittery.
“Come on in,” you said, stepping back, “I need to grab my purse.”
“Why do you live in a shoebox?” she asked, looking over the apartment that was made up of four rooms at most if you were being generous.
“Unless you can tell me how to find somewhere better on our salary, this is the best I can get on my own,” you called from the bedroom.
“You could always live with someone else,” she suggested, sounding much closer than you were expecting.
She was leaning on the doorframe of your bedroom, hip cocked, arms crossed pushing up her cleavage even more. Those green eyes were watching you, so intense, making you shiver. Lips curled up in a smirk and you knew tonight was going to ruin you.
“I guess because I don’t have anyone to live with,” you replied.
“That your purse?” She glanced down at the purse in your hands.
“Yup,” you replied, “so we can go now or… never.”
“If you’re having second thoughts now’s the time to tell me,” she said.
“Not unless you are,” you said, hoping you sounded calm.
“C’mon hon.”
She grabbed your arm, pulling you out of your apartment without another word. She held the car door open for you, like you were going on a proper date. Your heart fluttered.
The car ride to the club was surprisingly quiet. You kept sneaking glances over at her, not sure if you should fill the silence or not. Janine would, which made you think Melissa wouldn’t appreciate it. So that left you listening to the radio quietly as you did your best not to stare too long at her.
“Relax,” she said, pulling up a street or two from the club, “we can still leave if you want.”
“I’m crazy for doing this right?” You sought out her eyes, needing the reassurance that you hadn’t totally lost your mind.
“Sure, maybe a little. But who doesn’t get a bit crazy around an asshole ex?” she said, “look, hon, I’m not gonna judge you for doing this but if you don’t want to go in there I can take you home. Or I could buy you a drink and we can ignore her altogether. Since we’re already here.”
You bit down on your lip as you thought about it. The interior of the car was so dark you must have misread the way her eyes flicked down then away from you.
“Okay,” you said, “yeah, a drink. And thanks. For doing this and indulging in my crazy.”
“The donuts are worth it,” she said, opening her door.
You laughed as you followed her, reminding yourself this was an exchange and she wasn’t helping you out of the kindness of her heart. There was no way she liked you enough for that. You weren’t Barbra.
She placed her hand on the small of your back. You could feel her warmth through the thin material of your dress, burning into your skin as you walked to the line of the club. The line stretched far down the block, thumping music spilling out whenever the door was opened to let someone in. You went to join the end of the line but Melissa guided you to the man at the door.
She lent forward, whispering something in his ear. He nodded, holding the door open for them.
“C’mon, hon,” she said, hand sliding around to grasp your hip, “only the best for my girl.”
A high pitched giggle was the only response you gave.
Inside the bass was thumping and the lights were flashing and bodies were pressing in from every angle. Melissa kept her arm around you, holding you close as she wound through people, directing you towards the bar. There were people on tables dancing and you were already regretting letting Ava trick you into coming with her.
“Gimme a beer and one of those green drinks,” Melissa shouted across the bar at one of the bartenders.
She lent back against it, pulling you closer until her body was brushing against yours.
“Are you going to be driving home?” you asked, raising your voice to be heard above the music.
“I’m only gonna have one. Don’t worry, hon. I’ll make sure you get home okay,” she said, leaning forward to say it into your ear. Her lips brushed against your earlobe, making you shiver.
“Hey.”
A hand landed on your shoulder. Melissa’s gaze hardened. You turned, finding your ex standing there, looking as hot as the first day you’d met her. She was grinning at you, eyes slowly taking in your appearance.
“I wasn’t sure you’d show up,” she shouted to you.
“I promised Ava,” you shouted back.
A hand curled around your waist again, hand grazing over your stomach. You were pulled back against a supple body, a chin coming to rest on your shoulder. Your ex turned her gaze to Melissa, smile hardening.
“This is Melissa, the woman I was telling you about,” you said, “Mel, this is Carrie.”
“I’ve heard a lot about you,” Melissa said, not bothering to offer her hand to your ex.
You felt the challenge in the air.
“All good I hope,” Carrie said.
“Keep hoping,” Mel replied.
You had to stifle your laughter. Carrie’s face hardened as Melissa tightened her arm around you.
“Here you go, sweetheart,” she murmured, passing the electric green drink to you.
“Thanks,” you replied, turning your head to look at her, nose brushing against hers.
You paused a moment, breathless from how close she was. Her eyes were lingering on your lips, breath ghosting over your skin. You couldn’t move, drawn into the well of her gravity, leaning closer.
“Aw, aren’t you guys cute?”
You blinked, drawing back from Melissa just enough to be able to breath again. Her hand was still pressing against her stomach, holding you close. Carrie was watching you two, a straw between her lips, sucking slow on the liquid in her glass. Her eyes kept darting between the two of you, something mean curling her lip.
“I didn’t realise you were into older woman,” she said, “I mean she must be old enough to be your mother.”
You felt Melissa stiffen behind you. You rolled your eyes at Carrie, snorting at the implication. It was such a weak argument.
“Sorry, turns out I like someone mature enough to hold a meaningful conversation,” you replied, “and with the experience to be more than an unsatisfying fumble under the covers.”
Soft lips pressed to your cheek. You inhaled sharply, trying to remain relaxed in her hold as eyes narrowed. You took a drink from the glass, covering the warmth in your cheeks and the shaky hand. If just the brush of her lips against the apple of your cheek could do this to you, you would never survive more from her.
“Ava is waiting for you in the VIP area,” Carrie said.
“Oh goodie,” you muttered.
Melissa snorted, tangling her fingers with yours to tug you after Carrie’s retreating back. The brush of her palm against yours, the feel of her warmth so close, the scent of her perfume wrapping around you. It was all too much.
“You’re right,” she murmured against your ear, “she’s a bitch.”
“Really?” you asked.
“Fuck her,” she grumbled but you weren’t sure you were meant to have heard.
You moved into the roped off section of the club, upstairs and exclusive, the kind of place you’d never been before. Melissa slipped her arm around your waist again, the brush of her body making you feel lightheaded. The people surrounded you weren’t so packed in and their clothing was way nicer than those downstairs. Expensive drinks were flowing like water. You felt so out of place.
Carrie sat at a small collection of sofas and chairs in the middle of the room. Ava was holding court, drink in one hand, bottle of champagne in the other. The others around were listening and laughing along. You hovered, feeling so out of place, sliding your arm around Melissa’s waist just to feel grounded to something real.
Melissa?” Ava said, catching sight of you standing just outside their circle, “what are you doing here?”
“She’s with me,” you replied, tightening your hold on her until she was pressed against your side.
Yeah, you were so fucked.
“Wait, you two are together? Since when?” she asked.
“Yeah, since when?” Carrie asked, leaning forward until her cleavage was practically spilling out of her dress.
“A while now,” you replied.
“Why didn’t you tell me? You know I love gossip,” Ava complained.
“Didn’t want you in my business,” Melissa said, “still don’t if I’m being honest.”
“You didn’t have any issue telling me,” Carrie said, looking up from under her eyelashes at her.
“It’s a little different telling you than it is telling my boss,” she replied.
“You trying to make me jealous, cookie?” she asked, smirking up at you.
You’d forgotten she’d used to call you that.
“Since you told me you could do better I didn’t think I was able to,” you replied.
Melissa’s arm tightened around you, fingers pressing into your hip.
“But then you showed up looking like that so I might have to reevaluate that,” she replied.
You couldn’t miss the growl that came from Melissa. She pressed closer to you and when you turned to look at her, she was clenching her jaw and glaring at Carrie.
“Too bad she already has someone then,” she snapped.
Carrie’s eyes were almost lazy as they moved over to Melissa.
“We’ll see,” she hummed, tongue pulling the straw in her glass back into her mouth.
You could feel how tense Melissa was, body stiff, almost vibrating. You turned your head, lips brushing her cheek. Those green eyes flashed down to you, softening for a moment. You sighed, gently brushing a bit of her hair away from her face, fingers lingering on her skin.
“Do you want to dance?” she asked.
“You dance?” You smiled up at her.
“Course I dance,” she said, sounding offended.
“You better show me your moves then, Schemmenti,” you murmured.
She plucked the empty glass from your hand, placing it down on a passing waiter’s tray before threading her fingers through yours and tugging you towards the dance floor. Once you were there, you weren’t sure what to do. Not that you didn’t know how to dance. You just didn’t know how to dance with Melissa. You paused, too far from her to even touch.
“What are you doing, hon?” she asked, reaching out to pull you closer.
“Sorry.” You shook your head, “aren’t you finding this all a bit… weird?”
She pulled your arms around your neck, her own sliding around your waist. Your whole body flooded with heat as her hips began to move in time with the music. She was slow, guiding you against her, bodies pressing closer, one of her legs slotting between yours. Your breath caught, a low throbbing beginning as she brushed against you.
“Does this feel weird to you, hon?” she asked.
You couldn’t answer that question honestly.
“I don’t know if you’re a good actress or just a good liar but you’re weirdly good at this,” you said.
“And you need to loosen up,” she said.
Her hands drifted to your hips. With practiced ease, she guided your hips to sway, practically grinding down on the thigh she’s slotted between yours. You pressed your lips together, doing your best not to let the small whimper fall from your lips. Leaning forward, her hair brushed against your cheek, lips brushing your earlobe again.
“You’re doing fine,” she whispered.
“Do you think I’m making my point?” you asked.
Her hands were guiding you to grind down on her harder. Your eyes caught on hers, not able to look away as the music beat in time with the thud of your heart. Breath caught in your chest, not sure what the expression on her face was. If you had hope, it would be something close to lust.
“She’s watching us,” Melissa said, “and she looks mad. She knows she has no chance with you.”
She hauled you closer, hands sliding from your hips to your ass. Another flash of heat swarmed through your veins. She was close enough that if you just tilted your face up just right your lips would be brushing against hers. The warmth of her body was everywhere and you couldn’t control the way a moan rumbled in your chest. Her lips quirked up into a crooked smile.
A warm body pressed to your back, startling you out of your thoughts. Melissa’s eyes flicked to whoever was at your back, hardening. Her hands, still on your ass, pulled you close enough there was no space between, bodies pressed together as tight as possible. You turned your head, finding Carrie behind you. She gave you a smile you’d seen before, the one she would shoot you as she was trying to turn you on. The one that always inevitably ended with your fingers buried inside her.
You narrowed your eyes, pointedly turning away from her. Melissa was right there and an awful idea entered your head. An idea so bad you knew it was terrible even before your impulse control left your body and you knew you’d be paying for it for years to come. You tightened your arms around her next, pulling her down until she was a hairbreadths away from you.
“Please don’t kill me,” you whispered.
You didn’t give her a chance to respond before your lips were pressed to hers. She was frozen beneath yours for a long drawn out moment. When she began to kiss you back you had to do your best not to read too much into it or enjoy it too much. Her tongue swept over your bottom lip. You gasped into her mouth, her tongue licking in. Your head was growing dizzy and she was everywhere and everything. Her hands on your body, that leg still between yours, the thrumming of heat in your veins making your thoughts scatter until there was nothing but her.
You could taste her, the beer she’d been drinking lingering. You moaned into her mouth, the entire attempt to not enjoy the kiss fleeing. She kissed you harder, hands squeezing. Your hips were pressing down on her thigh, grinding in time with the music again as she turned your body to jelly. You wanted to melt against her and to writhe beneath her and scream her name as you came over and over again.
“Get a room.”
You jumped, lips pulling away from hers. Carrie was glaring at the two of you, bright spots on her cheeks. It was like a bucket of cold water was dumped over you, reminding you of exactly what was going on. You looked back to Melissa, feeling stricken. The way she was looking at you was something you never wanted to see.
“I’m so sorry.”
You pulled out of her hold, darting away through the crowd. You couldn’t face her, not after that. She had not signed up for you mauling her on the dance floor. She’d never speak to you again. You’d ruined any chance of anything ever happening. Just remembering the look on her face, the way she looked at you, made you want to throw up.
Pushing out of the door onto the street, cold air hit your body. You gasped for breath, stumbling down the street, doing your best not to cry. You had to get home. You had to never show your face again. You had to figure out a way to avoid Melissa for the rest of your life.
There was no plan, your feet just carrying you as far from the club as you could get. You heard someone shout your name. You quickened your pace, curling your arms around your body, trying to keep your ribs from exploding.
A warm hand grasped your shoulder as you were passing a familiar car. It spun you, forcing you stare into thunderous green eyes. You tried to pull away but Melissa’s hold on you only tightened. Tears sprung up into your eyes and you looked away from her.
“What the fuck?” she demanded.
“I’m so sorry,” you said, “really. I… I don’t even know what came over me. I just… I’m really sorry.”
“Yeah, so you keep saying.” She still wasn’t letting go of you, “why’d ya run?”
“Because…” You couldn’t even look at her.
“Because what? Was I that bad at kissing? I know I’m not your first choice but you didn’t have to run outta there like I was something you found living in your drain,” she said.
“What?” She wasn’t making any sense.
“If you were that disgusted by me you coulda asked someone else to help you,” she said and for the first time you could hear the hurt in her voice.
Maybe that expression hadn’t been disgust like you’d thought.
“I ran because I thought you didn’t like it. Or were mad at me. Or were going to hate me,” you said, “I thought… fuck Mel, I thought you hated kissing me.”
She was looking at you like you’d lost your damned mind.
“Why would you think that?” she asked.
“Because of the way you were looking at me. And I know you don’t like me like that and you’re you so I know that you want to keep people you work with at a certain distance. And you wouldn’t want me kissing you since I didn’t even ask and you don’t want me kissing you,” you blurted out.
“Whaddaya talking about?”
You sighed, knowing you were going to have to admit to things you hadn’t wanted to if only to make her think you didn’t hate her. She might hate you even more once you did though.
“Melissa…” She was so going to hate you, “I like you. I really like you. So much that some days you’re all I can think about. And I’ve thought about kissing you so many times before and whenever I imagined it, you always wanted it too. Tonight’s just been kind of a lot, knowing you were doing everything just as a favour and not because…. Not because you wanted to.”
“Hon,” she began to say.
“It’s fine,” you cut her off, “it’s fine, Mel. You don’t feel the same. It’s okay.”
“You gonna let me talk?” she demanded, finally letting you go.
You gestured for her to continue, heart constricting, not wanting to hear the rejection you knew was coming. But, like a love sick fool, you couldn’t say no to her.
“I wouldn’t have said yes to this if I didn’t like you,” she said and then stopped. You waited but it seemed as if that was the end of what she wanted to say.
“I don’t understand,” you said, shaking your head.
Her hands landed on your hips, pushing you until your back hit her car. Your eyes widened, mouth falling open. Her eyes turned down to them, before looking into yours.
“I like you, hon. I’ve thought about kissing you. I’ve thought about doing a whole lot more than kissing too. I thought you were the one who didn’t want me,” she said.
“Why would you think that?” You didn’t know what to think.
“You heard what that… what she said. I’m old enough to be your mom. Why would you want me,” she said.
“Because you’re hot as fuck,” you said like it was the most obvious thing in the world, “and my favourite person. I’d take you over everyone.”
She never gave you the chance to say more, lips claiming yours in a searing kiss. She pressed you back against the car, your own hands coming up to cup her cheeks, wanting her closer. She moaned into your mouth, tongue finding yours until you were melting against her. You whimpered and she groaned, drawing back from you.
“Time I took you home, sweetheart,” she said, lips trailing down your neck.
“Don’t wanna go home,” you sighed, fingers sliding into her hair.
“Not your home,” she all but growled, “mine.”
Someone wolf-whistled from across the street. You startled, jerking away from her. She shouted something back at the man, words lost in your haze as you stared up at her unable to believe what was happening. She turned back to you.
“Get in the car,” she said.
You opened the door, feeling her hand smack your ass before you could climb in. You glanced over your shoulder at her, finding her eyes travelling over your body, the exact way they had when you’d opened the door to her. A flush of heat went through you, understanding making the whole thing so much more heightened.
You tugged her into another kiss, short and intense, watching the way she seemed to become dazed when you pulled back.
“You better get me home,” you told her, “because I plan on showing you exactly how hot I find you. And showing you how thankful I am for you helping me.”
“She was wrong you know,” she said, hand coming up to cup your cheek, thumb running along your bottom lip.
“What?” you asked.
“There is no one better than you. And you’re worth about a million of her,” she said, “way too good for her.”
You felt your heart melting. She tucked some of your hair behind your ear, fingertips lingering on your jaw.
“She doesn’t even compare.”
The next kiss you pressed to her lips was soft, the kind that was heartfelt and sweet, almost sickeningly so.
“Okay, get in. I’m taking you home now or I’m gonna have to fuck you against my car and that guy over there is still watching us like we’re free porn,” she whispered in your ear, making you press your thighs together, “and I’m want you all to myself.”
You slid into her car, smiling sweetly at her. The heated look you got in return only made you sure you had made the right decision by asking her to help you.
The next morning, waking to her lips trailing down your body, you thought you should send a thank you note to your ex. Without her, you might never have ended up telling Melissa how you felt. And then you might never have won the most amazing woman you’d ever met. She deserved at least a thank you note for making you the happiest person alive.
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the-modern-typewriter · 10 months
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hi! i really love your writing and if you’re up to it do you think you could write something like desperate to keep them x has to stay but will never love them? something about having exactly what you want but at the same time it never being enough is what gets me
"If you stand down," the hero said, "you can have me. That's what you want, right?"
The villain's stomach dropped out. They froze. Whatever they had expected from these 'peace talks' it absolutely wasn't that. They stared at the back of the hero's head for a beat, before slowly closing the door behind them with a click.
"You think I want you more than the whole world?"
"Yes."
The hero's simple, certain response floored them and any negotiations they may have made. It wiped the mockery from the villain's voice, from the smirking curl of their lip. It stripped them bare in the cool evening air.
The line of the hero's back was tensed as they leaned against the balcony. As the silence stretched, the hero pushed up and turned to face them, one eyebrow raising.
The villain wet their lips, gaze raking over the hero, heart hammering. "When you said I can have you..."
The hero shrugged. "However you like, so long as no one else gets hurt. I won't kill anyone for you."
"You don't love me."
The hero blinked; as if they'd somehow thought that the villain was so deluded as to think their feelings returned, or that the question of the hero's feelings didn't matter.
"I can be convincing." The hero summoned a smile to their face. It was soft and pitch-perfect adoring. They swept across the small space to gently take the villain's hand, all those lines of tension melting from them. "You won't be able to tell the difference."
Ah. There it was. The hero sounded so certain of that, too. Did they think the villain didn't know what the hero was like when they were in love? Or was it that they thought they didn't understand or know love well enough as a feeling to recognise the real thing?
It felt like withering. The villain felt tiny. It felt like something in them had shattered a bit.
They hadn't ever really thought the hero would love them, but they hadn't thought...
The hero cupped their cheek and the villain sucked in a sharp breath. The hero's smile grew as they stroked their thumb hypnotic along the curve of the villain's jaw.
"You have enough money," the hero murmured. "We'll go somewhere quiet, somewhere far away from all of this. Just the two of us. We can be whatever else you want us to be."
It hurt.
"But you don't love me," the villain said, again, dumbly.
"Who would after everything you've done?" The hero dropped their hand, and the villain felt cold all over. "But this is the best that you're going to get. Who knows. Maybe I'll learn to love you."
There was something mocking in the hero's eyes so the villain looked down. They didn't think the hero meant to be cruel. Maybe that made it crueller; the villain could have dealt with deliberate cruelty with more ease and familiarity.
"The best I'm ever going to get," they echoed.
Who would after everything you've done?
"You love me." The hero's voice was mostly steady. "You won't kill me. That means, if this gets into a fight, you'll lose."
"Then why - why would you surrender?"
"Because us fighting costs everyone else too much. You - you're possessive. Jealous. I've seen the way that you look at my friends. At the people I love. If we're being honest."
The villain had expected a peace talk of dancing around, of some token gesture that they would both shrug off like 'whoops, we tried'. It didn't feel like that. It didn't feel like peace at all.
The hero had dealt a mortal blow and the villain didn't think they were even aware of it.
Maybe a kind love would fight and lose. The villain was not kind. They didn't know how to be something that the hero loved, but for a while, they had tried.
The fury came like an avalanche, just as quick, just as deadly.
"Alright," they said.
The hero's eyes snapped back to them, eyes wide, for all of their earlier certainty.
"I accept your terms," the villain said. "So long as you can convince me that you really love me."
The hero beamed, like the villain was everything that they wanted, and kissed them.
in the days, in the weeks, in the months and the years that followed it was those words that the villain regretted the most.
Because the hero was convincing. They were perfect.
And the villain knew, with every beat of their heart, that not a single second they shared from that moment on was real.
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