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ladysharmaa · 15 days

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Why don't you love me?

Anthony Bridgerton x reader

Summary: Y/n and Anthony are in an arranged marriage. When she stops trying to make the relationship work and be the perfect wife, Anthony realizes what he's lost. Will he be able to get her back?

(gift is not mine)

It wasn't the marriage she wanted. And it wasn't what he wanted, because, in fact, he didn't even want to be married. And he didn't mind showing it. But for Y/n, she tried to make the best of their unfortunate situation.

It all started at the beginning of the season when Violet Bridgerton decided that her firstborn had been single for too long. So, she spoke to Y/n's parents, who were good friends of hers, and they both decided that a marriage between the two would be beneficial to both families. Anthony was going to have the support of someone who would take Violet's place as Viscountess and Lady Bridgerton. For Y/n's life, in this society, having a husband was essential and this marriage would allow social advancement.

Thus, Anthony and Y/n agreed with this decision. The preparation for the wedding was carried out quickly and this event was the biggest news for days. Lady Whistledown didn't help matters either by immediately releasing an advert showing her doubts about Anthony having a wife.

This only worsened Y/n's mood, who already feared being married to Viscount Bridgerton, as she was now doubting all the lovers Anthony could take to their bed. Would he not respect their marriage? Did she just want an heir and take care of the children? With these doubts, she said the "I do" in front of hundreds of people watching the ceremony, and allowed just one tear to fall.

From the beginning, Anthony made a point of making it clear that their marriage was purely a compromise, and that he would never truly love her. He was going to fulfill his role and try to have an heir and outside the house, they would act like a happy couple, but it wouldn't go beyond that. In silence, Y/n just offered him a nod, showing that she understood.

However, since then, nothing has happened between them. Anthony allowed her to have her own room, something Y/n was more than grateful for. Having to look at the face of her husband who would never love her every time she fell asleep would be too painful.

She was expecting that on some nights he would enter her room to try to get her with child. But none of that happened, which only confused Y/n more. Was he so disgusted by the idea of being married to her that he didn't even want to have pleasure with her?

So she tried to distract herself with tasks that could take some of the work off Anthony's shoulders and try to be the perfect wife. But Anthony still refused to spend more than five minutes alone with her. At breakfast, he was already at the office when Y/n woke up to go eat, at night he preferred to spend time with his brothers instead of returning home. He was making everyone's life difficult and Y/n was starting to get more and more sad. Would this be her routine until the end of her life? Trying to please a husband who didn't want her?

It was on a summer afternoon that Y/n, upon returning from a social gathering with Anthony's mother and sister, realized how hot the mansion was. She quickly remembered how Viscount's office, the few times she had been there, was directly in the sun which made it even hotter. So she decided to be brave and try to have at least a friendly relationship with her husband, so she went to the kitchen to get a glass of water.

With growing nerves, Y/n went to Anthony's office door and knocked on the wood. After hearing Anthony's voice, she opened the door, finding him plus Benedict, who had become good friends with Y/n.

"Oh, I apologize if I am interrupting." she said shyly, keeping to the doorway.

"You are." Anthony immediately agreed in a deep voice, not paying attention to her and turning his attention back to the papers.

At the same time, his brother hurried to assure Y/n, "You're not interrupting anything. You even saved me from Anthony's boring lecture here."

The woman smiled uncomfortably. "Right. I just came to bring you a cup of water. It's so warm outside. I wasn't aware you were here, Mr. Bridgerton, but I can go and also bring you some water."

"Thank you, Y/n, I would—"

However, he couldn't finish his sentence as Anthony hit the table, causing his wife to jump in fright and immediately take a step back. Her reaction made Anthony's expression show some regret, but he quickly hid it. A silence fell between the three.

"I'm fed up, Y/n! Can't you understand that men are trying to work?! Go back to your life of looking at flowers and walking around without having to do anything and leave!"

Y/n's mouth opened and closed several times, trying to understand what had just happened. Finally, she pursed her lips and her eyes turned cold. "I apologize, Lord Bridgerton. It won't happen again. If you'll excuse me."

When she left the room, Benedict looked at his brother in shock. "That was so harsh. The poor girl was trying to be nice and cared enough to bring you a glass of water. If you don't want it, I'll have it. I'm talking about the glass and her."

"Don't you dare." he muttered with a clenched jaw, glaring furiously at Benedict. Where did this anger come from just thinking about Y/n with another man? "Now, let's go back to discuss how you spent money on a bet."

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Y/n's behavior with Anthony changed completely. Everyone noticed that the Viscountess finally reached her limit, and stopped being the friendly wife, now looking coldly at her husband whenever they passed each other in the mansion. However, as a couple and heads of the family, they still had obligations to fulfill together.

Public appearances were more tense, but they still managed to keep a smile on their faces and talk to all the ladies who asked about their marriage and when they would have children, giving short answers so that nothing would end up in Lady Whistledown's hands. They also attended a horse race, even betting on different horses that would win. Y/n ended up winning the bet, and her smug look irritated Anthony for the rest of the day, something his brothers were quick to tease him about.

But despite not liking Anthony after his cruel words, which Y/n still thought about constantly, she adored his sisters and mother. They had accepted Y/n into the family, including her in their gatherings and even being a should to cry on. Daphne had already said more than once that she would have no problem going to Anthony and try to talk some sense into him, but Y/n refused. Anthony already didn't like her, if he thought she was turning his family against him he would hate her even more. And she didn't need to make her life worse than it already was.

One day, when she went with Anthony to the Bridgerton mansion to drop off some documents, Hyacinth, Anthony's younger sister, took her aside. Y/n followed the girl to the bathroom where she, with teary eyes and trembling lips, asked her if she was going to die when she started bleeding from her lady parts. Hyacinth also revealed to her that she wanted to go to her mother, but she had gone shopping with Francesca and was alone at home with just Collin. Y/n, very calmly and gently, assured her that it was a normal thing and that all women went through this, explaining what she should do.

It was no secret that Y/n was happy that Hyacinth trusted her with this scary situation and that she was able to help the girl. Despite all the problems in her marriage, she now had a role in helping Anthony's sisters and she never wanted to fail in that.

To Y/n's surprise, Hyacinth ended up giving her a big hug, remaining attached to her for the rest of the afternoon. Her period was making her so affectionate, more than she already was, that Y/n couldn't stop a big smile from appearing on her face at receiving so much affection.

Anthony, when he finally finished talking to Collin about the documents he brought, I was surprised to see his sister on the couch hugging Y/n. "Hyacinth, what are you doing?"

"Hugging my sister-in-law, brother. But you don't know what that is, do you?" she snapped. The girl's change in mood made Y/n have to put a hand over her mouth to keep Anthony from hearing the laughter that escaped her.

The shock on Anthony's face was comical. His little sister was basically choosing Y/n over him. And in truth, he didn't judge her because his wife was, without a doubt, better than him. And she deserved so much better.

On the other hand, his heart warmed when he saw the bond that the two had created. It was clear that Y/n felt great affection for his family. Could it be that if he had accepted this marriage from the beginning, they would now be a happy family? That they would spend afternoons together, cuddling on the couch and talking to his siblings? All these thoughts were racing through his mind, and the guilt was growing so much that he felt like he was going to vomit.

"Lord Bridgerton?" that sweet voice he had come to adore brought him out of his thoughts. He hated that since he snapped at her, she never called him by his first name again.

"What?" he asked, still disoriented.

Y/n was looking at him like he was stupid. "I asked if you were ready to leave. Hyacinth already went to her room to rest. I would like to do the same. So you must make haste."

Her bossy tone almost made his lips curl into a smile, but he controlled himself in time. "Of course, wife. We shall leave now. But I have to ask, what happened between you and my sister?"

"All you need to know is that she's fine and she's a woman now. But don't worry, as your wife, I'll handle these situations. Unless you prefer me to go look at the flowers, take a walk, and do nothing?"

The hint, which was delivered with great anger, caused the man to blush in shame and lower his head. Y/n didn't wait for his answer, taking her coat from a maid and walking to the carriage. He had screwed everything up.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

A few more days had passed and the situation between Y/n and Anthony had only gotten stranger. The day after the situation with Hyacinth, Y/n was coming down from her room to go get breakfast, as she always did, when she came across Anthony at the table, appearing to be waiting for her to eat.

Y/n stopped abruptly, looking at him in shock. "What are you doing?"

"I'm waiting for you so we can have breakfast. I have to go see my brothers again today to talk business, so I was thinking you could come with me and spend some time with my sisters. My mother She's also been saying how she hasn't seen you in a while. That is, only if you want to go. If not, I'll just go… Or I'll stay here to keep you company, whatever you want." he choked up, finishing his speech by drinking some milk, perhaps to calm his nerves.

Y/n remained in place without moving. She looked at Anthony strangely, as if doubting that those words had even come out of his mouth.

"It was silly of me to ask—"

"No," she interrupted him. "It's fine. I would actually like to go and spend time with your sisters. They are lovely. I shall go get ready then."

"Aren't you going to have breakfast with me first?"

"Lord Bridgerton, I've been eating breakfast alone since we got married and I came to live with you. I think you can handle doing the same for a day. Excuse me." she said with an exaggerated smile, turning her back on him and starting to go back to her room. However, she turned back to go get a cake that was on the table. "But I'm hungry so I will eat this in my chambers."

"Call me Anthony!" he exclaimed before she was completely gone. He had a desperate look, almost looking like he needed to hear his name come out of her lips.

"No."

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Like every year, the Queen decided to throw a ball to celebrate the Diamond of the Season. The most eligible maiden on the marriage market. Y/n still remembers the first ball she attended — Daphne was the diamond of the season, but Y/n also managed to dance with a few suitors. Of course, in the end, she didn't end up marrying any of them. However, the nerves she felt at that ball were equal to or less than what she felt today: her first ball married to Anthony.

The Viscount and Viscountess had entered together, her hand resting on his arm, followed by Violet and the rest of his siblings. Tonight they would have to be on the lookout for suitors who might want to dance with Francesca, the diamond of the season.

Anthony quietly appreciated his wife. She looked breathtaking in her dress, her hair neatly tied back that showed off her majestic earrings, given by Anthony on their wedding day. He was proud to have a wife like Y/n, and he regreted that he hadn't shown it since day one.

While the Bridgertons started to go their own way, interacting with other people and dancing, Y/n preferred to stay in the corner watching the couples dancing. She longed to experience that with Anthony, but not in a forced way like some were. No, she wanted it to be felt, for them to dance to the music and really appreciate that moment.

But instead of her husband approaching her, it was another man, Earl Cavendish. Y/n remembered some moments when she had already seen him, as he was looking to get married this season. As she approached her, with a confident air, Y/n lowered her head to compliment him, "Good afternoon, Earl Cavendish."

"Lady Bridgerton, a pleasure to meet you. I must say, you look flawless. Would you give me the pleasure of dancing with me?" he extended his hand.

Y/n's eyes widened, not knowing what to do. People had already started looking at them, whispering among themselves. However, she didn't have to respond to the invitation as she felt an arm wrap around her waist and bring her closer to him.

"Excuse me, Earl Cavendish, but I want to have the pleasure of dancing with my beautiful wife first." Anthony said with his jaw clenched, looking him up and down menacingly. "I'm sure you will be able to find other ladies to dance with tonight. Just not my wife."

The two men looked at each other for a few seconds, neither of them wanting to back down. Anthony grew more and more furious, her wrists clenching and bringing Y/n even closer to him, but careful not to hurt her.

"Very well. I shall leave. I hope to see you again someday, Lady Bridgerton."

"I will —" Anthony began by exclaiming in anger as the Earl walked towards another woman, not having liked the way he looked at what was his.

"You will do nothing." the Viscountess snapped coldly. "I can't understand you, you ignore me, you treat me badly, and then you act protective when another man shows interest in me? I never said anything about you having lovers, even though I didn't like that in our marriage."

"What? I've never disrespected our marriage like that, Y/n. In the past I've done a lot of things, but since we got married the only woman I'll look at and touch is you. I don't want anyone else."

"You have a funny way of showing it." she laughed sarcastically, feeling increasingly emotional. "I have to go get some air. You should go check on Francesca again."

Feeling the cold night air, Y/n's heart began to calm down. It was so difficult having to deal with Anthony's changes of attitude, she couldn't understand him. She just wanted to be loved, and since that wasn't possible, she preferred that they stay as far away from each other as possible since being friends didn't seem to be an option either.

"I'm sorry." the voice she had come to know so well whispered behind her. Y/n refused to turn around, leaning against the balcony and taking deep breaths to control her emotions. "I shouldn't have acted the way I did. I know that marrying me shouldn't have been your choice either, but I was scared. I was scared to have a wife, because that meant I had another person in my life that I could lose ."

She finally had the courage to turn around and look into Anthony's brown eyes. They held back tears and showed the sadness, regret and anger that Anthony felt.

"I'm so angry with myself for the way I treated you. You deserve so much better than this. And I'm sorry I couldn't give you that. The cruel words I said to you but didn't mean. I was scared to let you in. in my heart, so I tried to push you away. Believe that all I want is to have you in my arms. To love you. To start a family with you. Please, I promise I will do better. And every day I will try to reward you for what you do.

"Lord Bridgerton—"

"Please, call me Anthony. It pains me when you call me like that. Reminds me that I was… Am so close to losing the best thing of my life. I will kneel before you and beg for forgiveness if that's what you want." he murmured with a hand over his heart, beginning to kneel on the ground without hesitation.

"There is no need for that… Anthony." she enjoyed seeing the relief and happiness that spread across his face upon hearing his first name. "I just don't understand why you didn't love me? And now you want to try to make our marriage work?"

"That's the thing, I have always loved you. I love you. My whole body, my heart, feels love for you. That has never changed." he revealed desperately. "I was a coward and didn't know how to deal with my feelings. Because they are so strong that my heart feels like it's going to come out of my chest. Please, give me another chance."

"Hmm, I don't now." The look of disappointment was so marked on Anthony's face, almost looking like he was ready to burst into tears, that Y/n stopped his suffering and showed him an amused smile, making him understand that she was joking. "I think I want you to suffer a little more to get my forgiveness."

"I will do anything for you, Y/n. Ask me the world and I will give it to you."

"Such a romantic now, aren't you?" she whispered, admiring his features.

She didn't realize their faces were so close until she felt his nose trace the delicate skin of her cheek. A gasp escaped her mouth, and Anthony took the opportunity to connect their lips in an unforgettable kiss.

Anthony pulled away quicker than he wanted, but he needed to make sure this was really what his wife wanted. "I love you."

"Kiss me again, and maybe I will also tell you that."

And what his wife wanted, he did. The two remained on the balcony, enjoying the comfort the other gave them. They still had a long way to go, but they knew that from that moment on, their lives would change drastically for the better. They had each other.

#anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #bridgerton #bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x you #collin bridgerton #daphne bridgerton #eloise bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton x female reader #anthony bridgerton x y/n

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lettersofgold · 5 months

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4 with Jude Bellingham, please!

-> legacy | jude bellingham

visuals

jude thought playing in front of thousands was nerve-wracking, but somehow, this award presentation was a bit worse. it was all amplified by the cameras being close and photographers yelling at him from all angles. he had accepted his golden boy and absolute golden boy award and taken a few photos before returning to his seat with his parents. the commotion of the evening was winding down, and he was anxiously awaiting the meal that would come at the post-ceremony dinner - he had talked so much and shaken so many hands it was becoming a blur all after traveling from spain in the middle of the week. the little boys in the back doing his celebration was cemented in his heart unlike anything else. it kept his spirits high in his sleepy state. his mom mentioned there were two more awards and the show would finally be over. the announcement came through the air as you walked onto the stage with a heart-stopping smile and a card in hand.

“oh she’s beautiful.” denise commented softly.

“wow, i’m so thankful for the opportunity to be here with the greatest this sport has seen. it’s an honor to present this award on behalf of my uncle’s legacy,” you began. jude went from half awake to wide awake, looking at you on stage in your gorgeous blue gown. “this legacy award highlights the people in football who have unbelievably impacted the world.” you scanned the audience with shimmering eyes before continuing. “this year, the board of directors could not find a better person to hold this award,” you opened the envelope and laughed lightly, “the one and only, our golden boy jude bellingham.”

something about your sugary sweet voice saying “our golden boy” made jude’s cheeks warm and his body hotter. he was so nervous to stand next to you that he barely looked up from the floor as he walked up the stage. you took the trophy from the stand and offered it to him. it was much heavier than you anticipated, and your hand bobbled, but jude quickly grabbed your hands in his to hold it steady. you laughed nervously and started apologizing profusely, which he immediately rushed to let you know he had it secure in his hands. his hands didn’t leave yours, and you made no effort to pull away as the two shared nervous laughter while fumbling over your words. the laughing of the crowd brought jude back down to earth, and took the trophy delicately before turning to the microphone to give a short speech. you cheeks were warm with embarrassment and you stepped aside to let jude shine once more tonight.

“uh, hi, it’s me again.” jude chuckled. he heard you laugh beside him, and he tried to keep his composure. “thank you,” he turned to look at you, and you nodded gingerly, “and thank you to the board who voted for me. again, i couldn’t do this without the support and my family - i’m honored to be able to keep your uncles legacy alive.” the two of you walked backstage, and you were swept away by a show assistant who mentioned “media” and “photo obligations.” jude felt a bit disappointed that he couldn’t stop to talk to you, but as if you could hear his thoughts, you turned around and yelled softly, “see you at the dinner, yeah?”

photos and photos and more photos. jude was thankful it was over - he would have to say no to the next person asking for a picture. he could see your blue gown floating around the luxurious ballroom, from person to person. you hadn’t stopped moving yet. his mom told him you were pretty famous in your own right: you just secured a role as a disney princess. his mind wandered to how he could start a conversation with you, but each idea fell short. his dad nudged him with a mischievous smile. “just go up to her.” he teased. “it’s a bit weird, d’know what i mean?” jude explained. “there’s nothing weird about it. say thank you, ask about her uncle, hell ask for her name, just ask something.” jude frowned at his dad's comments as if it were oh-so-easy to walk up to a girl as radiant as you.

10 minutes passed. then 20 minutes. it was nearly 45 minutes when you finally circled back to jude. he was in a deep conversation that it slipped his mind that he wanted to speak with you - people had bombarded him with compliments and discussions. “jude!” you whispered a few conversations over with a wave of your hand. you pointed towards your phone and the photographers. more photos, no. but a moment with you, yes. he excused himself from the conversation, which his mom expertly took over, and his dad winked.

“they want a few more photos,” you said. you could’ve asked jude to follow you out the door, and he probably would have - he was enamored with you. jude took the trophy from an assistant who extended it out to him. he held it with both hands but was promptly scolded by a photographer - “no, both of you hold it.” jude shuffled closer to you, and you placed your hand on the other side of the award. “can you get closer, no no, even closer please.” the photographer barked again. you laughed softly and commented, “geez,” through your smile. jude snaked his arm around your waist, and your hip found his side, and in return, you wrapped your arm around him, your head tilted inwards. you were so close jude couldn’t hide his smile - it was broad and goofy. the flash of lights was arresting and almost blinding. no matter how many times he stood in front of photographers, it never got easier. as quickly as you were there, you were pulling away. the assistant whisked the award out of his hand, and you had turned away once more before he mustered up the courage to say anything.

jude was on his way to leave when you called out to him. “wait. come here, it’ll be quick.” you grabbed the award and your phone - forcing the trophy into his hands quickly. “it’s my bereal.” jude threw up a peace sign as you snapped a photo, then you turned into him, your head resting on his chest as you snapped a selfie from outstretch arms. it was the most unserious photo he had taken all night - it was his favorite.

“that’s the one for sure.” you gushed as you showed him the photo. “absolutely. it’s all you.” jude said. “oh no that’s all you, golden boy.” you two talked for a moment. mainly you, but jude was more than happy to listen. you said your goodbyes soon after, and jude found his parents.

“wasn’t that bad was it?” his dad teased.

as he waited for his flight to take off, jude wondered if he should slide into your dms but opted against it. he opened twitter and scrolled through his feed before tapping on his notifications. the same tweet was retweeted and it made him curious.

it was a photo of the two of you holding hands on stage in the middle of laughing, then another of you leaning into each other at the dinner, and finally, you taking a photo of him at the ceremony. people were eating it up, commenting left and right about how cute you were.

user1 he’s winning on and off the pitch.

user2 i see what he’s doing he’s cooking

user3 oh he’s in love with her he’s just like me fr

user4 jude if you see this just know i’ll fight you over her.

user5 gonna tell my kids this is posh and becks

jude opened instagram to see if the chaos was just as large. he went straight to your page and hit follow when he got a notification that you followed him back. it made his heart skip a beat.

yn.jpg tagged you in a post

captioned: what a night celebrating my uncle, the love never stops. my heart is happy (even though i nearly dropped the trophy!!) here’s to the legacy ❣️

jude laughed inwardly as he scrolled through photos of you on the red carpet, one of you on stage, the next of you two holding hands and laughing, and finally the bereal the two of you had taken. jude typed and untyped a comment before he finally settled on one and pushed send. he knew it would be everywhere but he wanted to know if you were as interested in him as he was in you.

judebellingham it’s not every night i get to meet a princess and get to honor the legacy of your uncle xx

-> yn.jpg responded not every night i get to meet a golden boy. seems like dreams are coming true.

#football fanfic #football fic #football one shot #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham drabble #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham fic #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham

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l0tt1emy · 29 days

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i can request Meangirl!lottie? I think she would be sooo mean, I think she would love overstimulation! I love your posts!!!

Lottie Matthews x F!reader

Warnings: oral, desagration kink, strap referred to as dick, DUBCON, no aftercare, corruption kink? lottie blackmails you about your videos! recorded sex

A/n:I wrote this while eating a whole oreo egg, and I was listening gee , sorry anon I forgot about overstimulation:((( this has been rotting for months...

Lottie didn't know what it was about you...but you were different from the others, she doesn't know if it was because your eyes didn't shine when she passed in the hallway or if it was because you looked hotter than she would like to admit

at first it was just a "revolt" because when she "accidentally" dropped her food during break time and she got suspended, it was the first time that a stupid, nerdy person wasn't intimidated by the rich, intelligent queen bee of the school.

I mean, not that smart, otherwise she wouldn't need to be talking to the director for the 10th time, and this time it wasn't because she was caught intimidating the newbies

" Charlotte, you know that your father pays a lot for this tuition, I'm going to give you extra classes, But that's not enough, you'll have help from someone in your class. and I know the right person for that."

when lottie saw you she could feel all her blood boiling, she didn't know, you were too stupid and you were a bitch to her, she could shut you up with anything, if it would make you stop talking back to her criticisms

and she knew what she was going to do when she called you to her house on the weekend, apologizing via text about all the unrepentant threats (she didn't regret it )and saying he was going to make it a girls' night, when her parents were working all week and you even brought pajamas in your backpack, the stupid one was you who really thought that jackie and natalie were going to a slumber party, you were automatically forgiven when lottie saw how your breasts showed and she knew the water with medicine had worked , she saw how your face turned red, how you rubbed your thighs together as you tried to focus on duty

lottie comes close to you and places a hand on your thigh and leaves it there, she can feel yours eyes narrow, she feels you look visibly tense while look at the notebook, but you continues trying to speak "so you divide what m-multiplied...and"

"you seem tense darling...are you a virgin or something?." she says in a visibly mocking tone and continues "sorry, it must be embarrassing" lottie can feel you visibly trying to leave as your body say you to continue.

lottie lowers her hand to your clothed pussy and feels you moving away "w-what are you doing!"

" Shut your fucking mouth and enjoy, I know you want this.." she murmurs without looking into your eyes and rubs her pussy while putting her face on your neck and bites " you are very ungrateful...I know your nerdy friends want this...that's why you were staring at my ass while I was training, right?..." she asks a rhetorical question

and you weren't looking at her ass...god you have respect! "w-what?...n-no...never" you let out a shaky sentence as you feel her roll her eyes "liar" she drops her hand down your panties "jesus...you're really wet" she lets out a loud laugh as she feels you squeeze the nothing "fucking whore" she growls without pity at you as she collects your wetness from your entrance to your clit

she feels you moving away and bites your neck "if you leave..I'll tell everyone that you're a pervert" Your friends will love seeing this...you know.." Tears well up in your eyes, wide with fear as you feel Lottie try to stick a finger inside you. she raises an eyebrow "oh...you're a virgin!" she laughs as she sticks her finger faster than she should, in your little hole "stop...lottie...i-im..." you stumble over your words as you feel your damn legs shake unconsciously with pleasure..betraying your mind “I’m s-sorry...Sorry" You mutter pleas of pain as you try to move away from her and she simply ignores while sinking her fingers deeper inside your sticky walls

You like this right? to be used...who knew..." then as if gods had heard you she finally removes her fingers with the excuse that it was her turn to gain pleasure and I put her fingers with your excitement in your mouth and make you suck

she looks at you and forces you to kneel in front of her, while she not-so-subtly points her phone camera at you " you know what to do, little bitch" and without waiting her put your face in her pussy, god her smell was so good and in a minute you were smearing yourself, alternating between sucking her clit and her entrance, You didn't know why you were doing this, your mind was hazy with pleasure without your permission and she was more vocal than you thought, she puts her hand on the back of your neck, you couldn't breathe as she smothered you with her pussy "oh shit..yes..." she moans as she raises her hips to your mouth, trying impossibly to have more pleasure

You could feel tears welling up in your eyes as you struggled to breathe, and you could feel the burning in the back of your neck, from Lottie's nails.

how much more you alternated between sucking on her entrance and her clit you could feel her body getting tense and her moans getting louder with each movement of her hips and then you are trapped between her thighs, your ears ringing with the force that She squeezes your head and you can taste her on your tongue, pulling away from her you feel filthy when you see the phone still recording you, and Lottie with messy hair, panting and looking at you

she licks the drool that was dripping and an arrogant smile drips on her lips "I've never seen a virgin like you..." she murmurs then realizes that she was too kind "you're a whore" she stands up and looks at You "take off your clothes" and you can feel the shame rising in your veins, would this really be your first time? what a shame, you think when you say it before you think "no" you blurt it out accidentally

Lottie's eyes narrow, her smile fading. "Don't push me," she warns, her voice low and dangerous. "You know what will happen if you do." She steps closer, her breath hot against your face. "I'm not a woman you want to make an enemy of."

She grabs your chin, forcing you to look into her eyes. "You have two choices," she says coldly. "You can either do what I say and keep your mouth shut, or I can make your life a living hell. It's really up to you."

You feel a lump forming in your throat, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. You don't want to do this, but you also don't want to face the consequences of defying her. Lottie releases your chin, stepping back. "Make up your mind," she says, her voice hard. "The clock is ticking."

You swallow hard, looking away. You know what you have to do. You can't afford to make her angry.

With a heavy heart, you nod reluctantly. There's no other choice. And so, you allow Lottie to take control once more, submitting to her demands in fear and desperation. She smiles wickedly, her eyes gleaming with victory. She pulls you into her arms, kissing you fiercely

she undresses you, her touch rough and demanding. You try to pull away, but she only grips tighter, reminding you of her threats. The guilt and shame consume you, but her promises of revenge hang over you

lottie tilts her head forward and sees how transparent your panties are with excitement

Lottie chuckles, her fingers teasing the damp fabric before slowly pulling it aside. Her gaze lingers on your wet slit, a satisfied hum escaping her lips. "You're already ready for me," she says, letting her fingertips trace along your folds gently, causing you to tremble underneath her touch. "But I want more than just that." She reaches down and grabs a bottle of lube from the nightstand, squirting some onto her fingers before guiding them inside you.

Her movements are slow and deliberate, stretching you open as she adds another finger, then another. Your breath hitches with each thrust, your body responding eagerly to her command " I thought you didn't want this..." she murmurs teasingly, while inevitably groan when see how much you squeeze her fingers " I think that shouldn't be enough for a greedy little slut like you"

Lottie smirks, spreading her fingers wide within you. The sensation sends a jolt of pleasure through your core, your hips rocking up into her hand. "That's right, let me have you." She whispers, increasing her pace until you're moaning softly, your nails digging into her shoulders.

As she continues to finger you, she pulls out her strap-on, slicking it generously with lube. "Are you ready for this?" She asks, her voice thick with desire as she positions herself above you."w-wait.." you mumble when you see it was bigger than you thought, it wouldn't fit. With one smooth motion, she slides into you, filling you completely. You cry out, your legs wrapping around her waist as she begins to move, setting a steady rhythm.

The camera captures every moan, every thrust, every moment of pure bliss. "Look at yourself, so perfect and wet for me." Lottie murmurs, reaching up to pinch your nipples, you could feel yourself squeezing her without your will, your stomach was burning and you felt so full it was strange, you shouldn't be enjoying this, it was wrong, you raise both your arms and try to pull her away from you

No, don't hold back," Lottie growls, her pace picking up as she feels your inner walls gripping her cock. "Let go, bitch. Let me hear you scream my name." Each thrust is harder now, your cries becoming louder and more desperate. The camera captures every twitch, every shiver that races through your body.

And then, just as you're about to reach your breaking point, Lottie changes tactics. She pulls out abruptly, causing you to whine in protest. But there's no time to complain as she quickly flips you onto your knees, guiding you onto her cock once again. "Come on," she orders, slapping your ass gently. "Show them what they came for."

You obey, bouncing on her cock while still gasping for air. The new angle hits nerves you didn't know existed "f-fuck...s-shit!" you murmur shakily feeling your walls burning.

Yeah, that's it, scream for me, babe!" Lottie encourages, thrusting deeper into you. "Let everyone know how fucked I've made you, how hard I'm stretching that tight little pussy of yours." She grips your hips tightly, fucking you relentlessly. Each thrust causes your body to rock on the bed as she takes full control. "You're mine now, aren't you? My virgin whore who loves nothing more than my big cock shoved inside her."

She takes a look at your red and swollen clit "There we go," she coos, rubbing circles around your sensitive nub. Your hips buck wildly beneath her, your moans muffled by their kiss. She picks up the pace, keeping one eye on the camera even as she focuses on pleasuring you.

"Oh fuck! Stop...stop stop..." You cry out, your climax crashin over you like a tidal wave. Lottie continues to play with your clit, milking every last drop of pleasure from your bod, You close your legs unconsciously when it becomes too sensitive and she immediately moves away, slapping your thigh for you to open it again.

"Keep those legs spread," she instructs, rubbing the head of her toy against your entrance. "We're not quite done yet." You nod, trying to catch your breath as she enters you once more, this time at a slower pace. Her free hand finds its way to your clit, rubbing it slowly at first, then picking up speed as you beg for more.

Every movement is captured on camera, the sound of your gasps echoing in the room. Lottie thrusts harder

Lottie's breath catches at your enthusiasm, her cock twitching within you. "Like that, baby?" She says, thrusting harder, faster. "You love being taken like this, don't you? Wanting more of my cock?"

The sound of flesh hitting flesh fills the room as she pounds into you, her body moving in perfect synchronization with yours. She can feel you getting closer to climax, and it spurs her on.

"Cry for me, baby," She hisses, her voice thick with lust. "Tell me you love my cock, that you can't live without it inside you."

Soon enough, your entire body is shaking under her, your cries growing louder. She knows your climax is near; she can feel it in the way you grip the sheets, your inner muscles clenching around her cock. And then, just as she predicted, you explode, crying out her name.

Lottie feels her own release building up, her clit slapping with just the right pressure against the strap, and her old orgasm only helping her more

your walls milking her cock mercilessly. "God, you're tight," She moans, burying herself deeper inside you. "Take it, take all of it!"

Your hips jerk wildly, your back arching off the bed as you reach your climax. Lottie keeps up the pace, drawing out every last drop of pleasure from you. The room is filled with the sounds of your moans and the clicking of the camera, capturing every twitch and spasm.

lottie walks away from you, panting and you feel an emptiness inside you, you hear another click from the camera then she stops the video and throws her phone on the floor, taking off her strap and placing it anywhere in the room, leaving you destroyed on the bed

"I'm already done with you, I hope you don't tell anyone this...or you already know"

#yellowjackets #lottie yellowjackets #yellowjackets x reader #anon・ω・#lottie mathews #lottie matthews x reader #lottie matthews #lottie Matthew smut #lottie matthews smut #lottie mathews x reader #lottie matthews x you #yellowjackets fic #yellowjackets smut

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videovamptramp · 1 year

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holding on too tight (just right)

// wednesday ironically loves affection… as long as it’s from you //

warnings: insecure!reader, insecure!wednesday, a bit of angst but mostly fluff, you’re both oblivious idiots in love, wednesday is a softy for you <3

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

wednesday addams, for as long as she can remember has been completely and utterly disgusted by the mere thought of love. there was nothing more repulsing than the idea of someone kissing her. swabbing spit with someone who’s grossly in love with her. whenever she would see her parents exchange different forms of love she’d have to physically hold herself back from gagging. it wasn’t just because they were her parents, really. she felt the same way when she saw a random couple on the street, or at school. wednesday didn’t believe in love, she felt as though everyone who was overly in love with their significant other was dramatizing their feelings, or just pretending. there’s no way anyone could feel that much.

well, that’s what she used to think… until she met you. when wednesday first met you, she hated you. you were all smiles, and dimples. it was disgusting the way you’d light up like a christmas tree whenever you saw her or she responded to you. the way you laughed made her stomach coil. not to mention how revealing your outfits got towards the hotter seasons. wednesday hated the way her eyes would migrate towards you whenever she’d walk into a room you were in. she didn’t want to think about your eyes or how they changed in color depending on the lighting. so she ignored it for as long as she could.

she ignored your longing looks, and the way she’d see your signature doodled next to her last name on your notebook, whenever she’d make the mistake of taking a peak at what you were smiling at. she pretended as if her stomach didn’t flutter in a nauseating way at the thought of your name hyphenated with hers. it even got so bad that wednesday tried to ignore your existence all together, but that wasn’t very effective. instead of your smile, she saw your eyes full of hurt and even saw you tear up when you realized she was ignoring you. she caved and spoke to you the next period. wednesday didn’t understand why the sight of you nearly crying, especially because of her, made her incredibly uncomfortable. it was a feeling she’s never felt before.

“… and then i told him to fuck off! he was only being a jerk because i totally rejected him last fall. then sabrina told me—“ you cut yourself off when you see wednesday staring at you with a blank expression. you assume she’s bored and irritated, causing you to blush in embarrassment, “sorry wen, i got carried away talking… i know i talk too much.” you tuck a strand of loose hair behind your ear, and she doesn’t look away from you as your gaze shyly makes it way down to the grass you’re both sitting on. “if i didn’t want to listen to your pointless rambling i would have intervened and said so.” she declares simply, and your eyes widen slightly, as you look at her with pure glee. god that look on your face makes the corner of her lips tug upwards, and oh no, wednesday addams is smiling softly.

the smile is faint and barely visible, but it’s there. “you’re so sweet, wednesday. you always make me feel so special!” you exclaim, practically gushing as you pull her in for a tight hug. wednesday’s little cold heart swells a few sizes at the action. she hates affection or any sort of physical touch, but this… this is nice. wednesday doesn’t even threaten you and after a few seconds you pull away, a rosy pink blush on your nose and cheeks. “i’m sorry… i got carried away again.” you apologize, and her tenebrous orbs stare into yours. “do it again.” she demands and you look at her as if she just said the most absurd thing on the planet.

though, you don’t deny her request, and you cautiously wrap your arms around her, holding her close. wednesday hugs you back, and your heart nearly stops beating. “thank you.” you blabber out loud, and she pulls away, “why are you thanking me?” she questions uncertainly, and you meet her eyes with a dopey grin on your lips. “because you just let me hug you! twice! i know you have a rule about physical touch or affection, but i… i really like it. especially when i care about someone. so thank you for letting me hug you.” your words of innocence make wednesday feel as though her heart is being squeezed so tightly it might pop. “my rule does not apply to you. you are the only exception.” the words come out of her mouth before she can think twice, and though they surprise her, she doesn’t take them back.

how could she? you were now staring at her with stars in your eyes and your smile caused that queasy feeling to set back in at the pit of her belly.

after that, you find every and any excuse to touch wednesday. you hold her hand whenever you’re sitting beside her in class or lunch, and in the hallways. you lay you head in her lap and will reach for her wrist, moving it onto your head and demanding she play with your hair. you play with her fingers whenever you’re speaking to her in the halls (it’s nearly impossible to keep her concentration when you do that). you fix her bangs for her whenever the wind messes them up, and you even took what she said as an open invitation to cuddle with her during your guys movie nights.

wednesday is very surprised to find out she doesn’t hate physical affection coming from you. every little touch burns wednesday’s skin in the best way, and she finds herself yearning for your touch whenever she doesn’t receive it. which is why the last week has confused and upset her deeply. it started after she walked you to class last week, as she always does.

“see you after class, wen!” you lean in and kiss her cheek, causing her to force herself to grimace. she still has an act to put on at school after all. “oh wait!” you exclaim as you reach for her wrist and pull her back in for a hug. “good luck on your botany exam!” you cheerfully tell your girlfriend before pulling away and making your way into class where yoko is flashing you a look. “what?” you ask uncertainly, and the vampire raises her brows. “aren’t you afraid she’s going to snap one day because of all the dramatized affection? i mean, she is wednesday addams.” yoko points out, and you frown as you take a seat beside her. “she’s never been bothered by it before…” you trail off.

a wave of insecurity washes over you, “do you think i should stop? i mean, you’ve known her longer…” your voice is laced with vulnerability. “i mean, i would definitely reel it back a bit because she’s wednesday.” yoko explains as if that’s explanation enough, but you don’t know wednesday like me, your mind screams but you only nod. “yeah, she might be tired of it.” you mumble, your cheerful mood suddenly gone. could wednesday really be tired of your affection? you remember the way she grimaced in the hall after you kissed her on the cheek. you wonder if that was for show or because she genuinely didn’t like affection. wednesday wouldn’t force herself to endure your affections simply because it makes you happy… right?

suddenly you’re overthinking everything, and you can’t help but let your thoughts run wild. you can’t even concentrate in class and when the bell rings, you stand up and gather your things; stuffing them into your backpack before leaving the room. as soon as you exit out of the classroom, there’s wednesday with that blank look on her face waiting for you. your heart flutters every time she comes and picks you up, and walks you to each of your classes. though, you physically dim when you remember what yoko said about wednesday growing tired of the affection. the last thing you wanted to happen was for her to grow tired of you and the relationship.

wednesday notices something’s wrong right away, as soon as you see her your eyes usually light up like a street lamp every night on routine. “hey wen.” you greet her with a smile. “how was your exam?” you ask as you begin walking. wednesday looks down at her empty hand that you usually take, and she tries not to frown. “fine. easier than i expected, perhaps we went a little too overboard with the studying.” she tells you and you giggle. “yes, well, you had three different study plans ready. at least you’re always prepared.” you tease and she tries not to think about the way you aren’t holding her hand or arm; the only form of affection was when your arms brushed together as you two walked through the crowded hallway.

“how was gorgon anatomy?” she asks, trying to figure out why you’re acting stranger than usual. “fine!! boring.” you answer too quickly, and wednesday turns her head to look at you. you were walking with your head high and eyes forward. as if you were trying not to look at her at all. wednesday can see on your face clear as day that something is wrong. before she can question you anymore, you both arrive in front of your werewolf reproduction class. “i’ll see you after class?” you ask hopefully, and she rolls her eyes. “you’ll see me after every class.” she states, still not understanding why you ask her every time, if you know she’ll be here like clock work. you smile at her response, blushing. “okay. bye wen, try not to kill bianca during fencing lessons.” you half joke before staring at her with a longing look and rushing inside.

wednesday blinks a few times, frozen in place. you always kiss her before you two part. every single time, even when she was just going to stand in a different line, you were placing a sweet kiss somewhere on her face. the sinking feeling in her stomach is unfamiliar and uncomfortable. she clenches her fists as she walks away. suddenly she’s angry at herself; what did she do? had she said something? or did she do something that upset you? is this one of those things where she accidentally did the wrong thing and hurt your feelings? she’s hurt them many times on accident before, you were so insufferably sensitive. yet, wednesday found that was one of the many things she loves about you.

she tries not to think about how strange you were before class, but she ends up taking out her frustrations on bianca during fencing lessons.

wednesday tried to assure herself that you would be fine by the end of the day. your mood changed very quickly when you were upset. you could never be sad or angry for too long and wednesday ironically loved that about you as well. but that was last week, and you still have barely touched her. wednesday didn’t think it was possible to need physical contact, but god she does. she craves your touch every time you’re near, even when you’re not, she still wishes you were so you could kiss, caress, and even hold her. but ever since last week your touches have been minimal.

you don’t hold her hand in the halls anymore, nor do you kiss her cheek at any given chance. sometimes you’ll slip and reach for her hand during movie night, but quickly let go when you remember what yoko said. you had somehow allowed that little nagging voice in your head to convince you that wednesday was trying to preserve your feelings every time you touched her. you’d let that mean conscious of yours allow you to believe that wednesday secretly disliked all of your hugs, kisses, and loving touches.

today is movie night, and wednesday is adamant on making things return to normal. she hates that insecure feeling she’s had for the last six days. that pestering emotion deeply rooted inside of her, whispering over and over that you’re losing interest in her. that you’re craving someone different; perhaps someone more full of joy, and like you. someone who isn’t allergic to color, and who has a kind smile. maybe that boy who’s always smiling at you in the ice cream place in the mall. or the girl from the shoe store who remembers you and your shoe size, she always compliments your jeans. it makes wednesday’s stomach burn.

“i brought ven helsing and the house at the end of the street. can we please watch the scary one first this time, wen? i had nightmares after last weeks.” you flash her puppy eyes as soon as you stroll into her shared room, the movies in your arms along with the snacks. you have black liquorish, milk duds, cherry coke, a big of chips, and mini kit-kat’s. wednesday knows the black liquorish is for her, and she can’t help but let her heart lurch at the sight of you. “we can watch whatever one you’d like first, cara mia.” she tells you in that tone she solely reserves for you. she makes your stomach fill with butterflies. you walk over in her direction; she’s already sitting on her bed. you kiss the top of her head; you can smell her shampoo. you let all the snacks go at once, letting them fall onto her bed.

the kiss on her head wasn’t enough to fill that hole inside of her. she desperately needs you to hold her before she falls apart. she feels stupid for the lump in her throat as she watches you walk over towards the dvd player and television. you pop the movie in and start it up, turning around and smirking at her. she keeps a straight face, trying not to show you how close she is to breaking down. “lights off?” you ask with a cute little grin, and she nods, not trusting her voice. you turn the lights off and join her in her bed. you keep a short space between you both and the small distance pains her deeply.

she tries to focus on the movie, she really does. but every time she does, her eyes seem to migrate to you like magnates. you look scared and you jump every time a scary scene unfolds on the screen. she wants to hold you, but she’s afraid you’ll reject her. she’s afraid she won’t know what to do. she’s afraid she’ll be awkward. god, why is she so afraid of everything when it comes to you? she’s wednesday addams, she isn’t afraid of ghouls, monsters, or even murders, yet she’s afraid of messing everything up with you. losing you would be the greatest misfortune, and for her to lose you simply because she’s herself… that’s enough to make even the strongest person hurt.

you forget about everything for a moment, the peace that comes with being by wednesday’s side makes every problem and negative thought go away for awhile. you lean in, wrapping your arms around her waist and resting your head on her shoulder. you forget about what yoko said for all about two minutes before abruptly pulling away, as if you’re physically trying not to touch her. her throat aches as she swallows thickly and she tenses up, there’s a few seconds of silence that tick by, before she asks the question that’s been badgering her mind this entire week.

“are you tired of me?” wednesday asks quietly, in a voice so low, if you weren’t sitting so close you wouldn’t have heard it. you reach for the remote and pause the movie quickly, turning to look at her with a look of shock, “what?” you ask her, making sure you heard correctly.

wednesday is staring at her lap, refusing to meet your gaze. “i’m aware i’m not the most conventional girlfriend… i do not know a lot about relationships. i hurt you without trying, and i never say the right thing. if i upset you, or did something it wasn’t my intention.” she goes on, and you only grow even make confused. “wednesday, what are you talking about? i’m confused as to where this is coming from. you’re a wonderful girlfriend, and frankly, i don’t enjoy it when you talk about yourself that way.” you tell her and she finally looks at you. the look of hurt in her dark eyes is as clear as water. “then why have you been different? you don’t hold my hand in the halls anymore, or kiss me— you just jumped away from me after a minute of cuddling. i thought you said you loved physical affection when it came to the people you care about… do you not care about me anymore?” she asks, and for the first time since you’ve known wednesday, you can hear the vulnerability in her voice.

your heart aches in your chest, and your eyes soften. “if you’ve grown tired of me just tell me what it is i did. i’ll fix it.” she sounds so adamant and it breaks your heart that she would even consider changing anything about her wonderful self. you immediately reach out and cup her cheek with one hand, she nearly melts into your touch. “oh wednesday, i’m so sorry. i thought you were tired of all my affection… i thought i was too clingy.” you glance away shamefully as you admit this, and her eyes nearly widen. “i would never ask you to change anything about yourself, wen, and i could never grow tired of you. i don’t ever want to hear you talk about yourself that way. you’re far too intelligent and phenomenal for that. got it?” you ask, and she doesn’t respond.

you kiss her nose before looking into her eyes, “got it??” you ask again and she nods. “please don’t feel as though you’re too clingy. i… i enjoy your forms affection very much.” she confesses, and you can see a cute crimson blush coating her cheeks. your heart skips a beat, “you do?” you question in pure shock. “i do. i’ve never been one to enjoy those gross things… but with you it’s different. you’re my exception.” she states affirmatively, and now it’s your turn to blush. “you always make me feel so special.” you reveal, your face hot and your cheeks pink. “you are special to me.” she says bluntly, and your eyes are suddenly big and childlike, staring at her as if she put stars in the sky.

“oh wednesday!” you gush as you lean in and hug her tightly. she hugs you back, and when you try to pull away after a minute, her hold on you tightens. “let me hold you a little bit longer. please.” she practically begs, and your entire body goes warm. “we can cuddle and finish the movie, silly.” you remind her and she hesitantly lets up, allowing you to get into a comfortable position. “c’mere, i’ll be the big spoon this time!“ you sound so excited she doesn’t dare disagree. “if you tell anyone i’ll deny it.” she warns, before crawling into your waiting arms.

#wednesday addams x female reader #lgbtq #lesbian fanfic #wednesday addams x fem reader #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday x you #wednsday addams #jenna ortega x fem reader angst #jenna ortega x fem reader #wednesday addams #wednesday addams x fem!reader #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams x fem reader fluff #fluff #wednesday #wednesday addams x reader angst #wednesday addams x y/n

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ilovelifeandiwanttotalkaboutit · 11 months

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Eddie Munson Drabble

🍬 So Metal - Eddie x Reader Insert

Summary: Eddie catches you looking at the scars from the last battle against Venca and he wants to make you feel better about them. Little fluffy short cuteness: enjoy ;)

Link to Eddie Munson Masterlist

The evening was beginning to set in, letting a golden hue shine in through the windows and onto the walls. You just freshly showered after Eddie insisted on you going first. Since his home was torn apart by Vecna, and pretty much the whole town was destroyed, there weren't many people staying behind in town. But you were. You and your parents were letting him stay after he got released from the hospital.

While you waited for Eddie to be done in the shower, you were changed into a tank top and your sleeping shorts, and you caught yourself in front of the mirror. Your hair was damp and glittered all over your body were hints of little injuries and stress left behind from the latest fight against Vecna, which of course, didn't work for the best.

Your eyes wandered to your shoulders, seeing the scrapes and cuts that were now scarred over. You brought your fingers up, very lightly touching them, frowning as you did so. Then your eyes dragged to your face where a scarred gash on your lips was healing and a bruise on your cheek was finally beginning to fade. You looked beat up and tired, and rightfully so, you'd been through a lot. You just wished you looked prettier.

And Eddie, unbeknownst to you, had staggered out of the bathroom two minutes ago, and was standing in your doorway, watching a pretty girl who he wished was his pretty girl, observing herself in the mirror, clearly looking deflated. He frowned too, leaning his temple against the doorway, wondering how to make it better. Or if he could make it better.

"I have them too, you know," His voice comes out softer than he expected. You turned, raising your brows. You weren't expecting him to be there.

Your cheeks turned pink and you felt your mouth go dry. You didn't know what to say.

His eyes only found yours as he pushed further into the room. He was dressed in some of your most manly comfortable clothes, looking nothing like his normal self, but he wasn't going to complain. He pressed his lips into a fine line, saying with a bit of a chuckle as he sits on the edge of your bed, "In fact, I actually have them a lot worse, so... You've got nothing to worry about."

You finally smiled a little and you crossed your arms, knowing he was right. "Yeah," you muttered, "I know you have it worse. I'm sorry."

"You've apologized to me countless times already sweetheart," he says with a soft sigh, "and I told you, you don't have to. You... You saved my life." He then begins to laugh a little bit, "I should actually be apologizing to you. I know it couldn't have been easy for you and Dustin to haul my dumbass back through the portal."

Even though you were still a bit sad, you couldn't choke down the amused breath that left your lips. "Well, technically it was just me that carried you back. Dustin just wouldn't shut up and limped next to me until we made it out."

"Exactly," Eddie grins, beaming up at you. You couldn't help but feel enlightened and grin back. You couldn't be happier that he was alive and okay.

When his smile begins to fade, he reaches forward and you watch and feel your breath hitch as he very gently touches your hands. He holds them both, his warm fingers curling comfortingly around yours in a little squeeze.

"But seriously, sweetheart. I saw the way you were looking at yourself in the mirror, and I didn't like it," he says sternly, gazing down at your hands then into your eyes. "If you're worried about the scars, I think they make you look even hotter."

The way he said it made you chuckle, yet still brought a blush to your cheeks. He smiled at your reaction and he squeezed your hands again then let his touch fall.

"Really?" You asked with a tilted smile, taking a seat next to him on your bed. You can't help yourself as you playfully add, "Scars do it for you, huh?"

"Hell yeah," he grins, resting his elbows on his knees, "They're metal."

You raised a brow with a little smirk, "Metal?"

"Mm hmm, so metal," he agreed, giving you a soft gaze after. You were watching him, observing the curves of his face and the shape of his brows, the color of his eyes, and the plush of his lips. In those moments, you could see him doing the same thing.

Eddie then gave his head a gentle turn away, letting out a small breath. You were broken from your trance and you turned your head too, feeling your heart race.

"We should probably go down for dinner," you suggested lightly, getting up and feeling more flustered with anything. "That okay?"

"Mm hmm, yeah, yeah," Eddie mumbled, getting up to follow you, "Yeah, of course."

Walking down the stairs for dinner, you were digging your fingernails into your palms at just how close you were, and what you didn't know was Eddie was doing the exact same thing. And all throughout dinner, Eddie was internally beating himself up over his comment.

They're metal. He shakes his head at himself, so stupid.

#eddie munson x reader #eddiemunson #eddie munson #eddie x reader #eddie munson drabble #drabbles #drabble #fluff drabble #fluff #fluffy

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xiaonesis · 1 year

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Soft Serve 13 // Flavor 1

Flavor 1: Rainbow Sherbet (Suna x Reader)

Tags: Romance, Fluff, Awkward Romance, Summer Romance, Growing & Learning, Miscommunication

A/N: I started writing this more than half a year ago and decided to pick it back up and finish it but I forgot where I was going with it. I initially wanted to write something more light and introspective, on the pains of growing up and the awkwardness and inability to communicate many of us have, as this fic is partly based off real life experiences, and thus it is a slightly personal fic to me as I reflected on my own past, experiences, and regrets, and hopefully, growth. Then, I had a breakdown and lost the plot lmao. Anyways, have this melting cone of chaos and idk's.

(This fic is cross-posted to my AO3)

Suna Rintarou doesn’t believe in love at first sight.

He thinks that people who fall head over heels for someone at first glance are fools. Love is something that is grown into, to be slowly nurtured with time and dedication. To his logic-based brain, the entire idea of smashing head first into love at a glance is ludicrous, like a bad car crash where you never see it coming until it's too late. And that doesn’t sound very pleasant, does it?

But you know what else they say about love at first sight?

That everyone becomes a believer when it happens to them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Suna first meets you in his hometown of Aichi in the summer of his fifteenth year.

He is there for summer break, helping out at his uncle’s ice-cream shop a stone’s throw away from the nearest beach. He didn’t want to be but his parents had insisted, claiming that it would be good for him to spend time with his grandmother and uncle.

Had he been given the choice, he would be spending his break lazing at home playing video games instead of being dressed in this ridiculous pink and yellow striped ice-cream boy cap and uniform, scooping out cones of ‘Soft Serves With A Smile.’ He’d rather be slamming hard serves into the twins that made it onto the same volleyball team as him.

AC doesn’t even exist in the shop as a silver lining. There are only three fans on maximum power, twisting and churning air as they swivel. With the unbearable heat amplifying his discomfort, days at his seaside hometown pass slowly, thick and syrupy from dawn to dusk.

It doesn’t feel like summer at all.

That all changed the day the shop bell chimed and you walked in.

“Welcome to Soft Serve 13–”

People often say that love at first sight is similar to a lightning strike, fast and purple hot. But there was no purple summer lightning electrifying him, no volcanic eruption setting his heart on fire for Suna.

There is only a great void, white and silent, that descended upon his mind unforeseen; a tsunami that crashes down his frozen body, washing away all sensible thought and bodily functions before leaving him stranded on unknown, pristine shores.

For the next twenty seconds that stretches like a lifetime as he is caught in his first glance of you, Suna is suspended in that void. White sand in his ears, and his eyes sees nothing and everything simultaneously in an ivory world.

(It feels exactly like the moments before a car crash where life flashes by in a white blind)

Suddenly, his hand is freezing hot and Suna is dragged from that sandy void.

“Shit–”

Dulcet chocolate covers his hand, trickling from the melted cone he was supposed to hand to the perturbed, waiting customer in front of him. Uttering a quick string of apologies, Suna sets about serving a fresh cone whilst enduring your barrage of giggles as you wait next in line, his face hotter than summer itself.

The door chimes again, and he is left alone with you in this tiny, humid shop with fans blowing revoltingly loud and you’re still grinning teasingly – blinding – at him. He pulls his stupid pink and yellow cap down over his eyes.

“If mine melts, can I get a free scoop?”

‘No,’ his mind says but his mouth fires off a “Yes.”

He didn’t think it was possible for your smile to grow any wider. Windchimes jingle in the timbre of your pleased laughter, not expecting his answer. “Guess I’ll have to make sure to distract you long enough for it to melt,” you chirp, browsing the display with an impish smirk.

Suna knows right away he wouldn’t mind getting ice-cream all over his hand again if it means you’ll stick around longer.

By the Gods , was he always this much of a chump?

He’s not a casanova (that’s Atsumu’s shtick), but Suna never gets nervous around the opposite sex, and he likes to think he can pull in girls if he wants to. However, between school, games, and volleyball, there was no space for romance in his life yet Suna finds himself pulling and fanning at his collar as he tries to maintain eye contact with you. He’s strangely nervous and it shows in the way he continuously drums his fingers on glass.

Suna never talks to customers beyond what is necessary but he continuously finds ways and topics to keep you around. Usually, he works fast to have all his customers served so that he may return to his phone. Yet, thirty minutes has passed since you entered the store and you’re still standing without a cone in your hand and he’s leaning across the glass, handing you your thirteenth free taste.

In that period, he’s found out that you’re visiting the area with your mother for two weeks, that you’re his age, and attend school in Tokyo. And he’s shared that he’s originally from Aichi but goes to school in Hyogo, is working here for the summer, and this is his uncle’s shop. Favorite music, recommended sights and places, food, hobbies, and a slew of other random tidbits about each other were also mutually exchanged in between.

(He wonders if he can entice you to stay with the other flavors available.)

Another ten minutes later and you finally settle on a flavor, but Suna knows by that curl in your lips that’s been there since twenty-five minutes ago that you already knew what you wanted the moment you stepped foot into the shop.

“I’ll have Rainbow Sherbet.”

He makes a face. “I’m judging you.”

“It’s a good flavor!”

“It’s sour–”

“And sweet.”

“–and leaves this tart, prickly taste in your mouth. It’s terrible.”

“No it isn’t! Here, try some!” You bring a small spoonful to him.

“No–” he swats your hand, “I know what Rainbow Sherbet tastes like. I work here.”

You press against the glass– he’s going to have to clean it of your grubby hand prints later – but he doesn’t mind it one bit when he sees you straining over the display in an attempt to reach him. Honestly, if his uncle saw him now, he’d get an earful for ‘messing and flirting’ with a customer but Suna is unable to stop himself from gravitating towards your hand and the spoon pinched precariously between your fingers.

“Just try it!” you insist.

Suna frowns at your persistence, adjusting his cap with one hand as if he’s about to tell you off. But he tips it up instead, so that he has a clear view of you when he grabs your wrist and leans in to close his mouth around your spoon. His cheeks hollow and Suna sucks the sweet ice with an obnoxious slurp that has him smirking around the spoon and you, gaping.

Zesty lime and sour raspberry goes off like fireworks on the roof of his mouth before melting with a trail of fragrant pineapple on his tongue.

Your eyes widen, clearly not expecting him to do that, thinking that he would at least take the spoon from you first.

To be honest, Suna didn’t expect himself to do that either, especially not with the rapid pace of his heart. It’s worth it though, to see the obvious flush racing up your neck to fill your cheeks. It matches what is on his but he tells himself it’s the heat.

He releases the spoon with a pop but keeps his grip on your wrist. He can’t stop grinning but forces an impudent gag through the stretch of his cheeks.

“Yuck.”

He lets you go, fingers sliding soft on the back of your hand.

The spoon is brandished at him. “You liked it. Don’t lie. I also demand a free scoop.”

“But it didn’t melt?”

You stick your hand out and sure enough, there’s a trail of sticky green and orange running down your arm.

“You took too long,” you murmur, avoiding his eyes. “Could have just eaten it normally.”

Another smug smirk. “Where’s the fun in that?”

The fans are deafening but its winds are cool on his hotter-than-ever skin and lovely in the billow of your dress. The bell chimes and a gaggle of children rush into the store alongside a woman that taps your shoulder with a call of your name. He guesses that’s your mother, wondering where her daughter’s been for almost an hour.

He realizes then that neither of you introduced yourselves.

Your mother leaves and your eyes flicker to the tag pinned to a strip of pink right above his heart. “I will collect my free scoop tomorrow, Suna Rintarou.”

The promise of your return lingers in this tiny, breezy shop, and tomorrow can’t come fast enough.

It finally feels like Summer.

(And he’s on his way to a car crash)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Why here? There’s not much to do in Aichi in general, needless to say here.”

You shrug. “We just wanted some place a bit more slow, more relaxing, you know? My mum’s tired of the city and I don’t really mind. She’s paying for everything anyway.”

“Where would you choose to travel though?” He steals a spoonful of colorful ice-cream from your cup and you let him.

“Hmm, I don’t know for sure,” you muse. “Probably somewhere outside of Japan. I’ve always wanted to go abroad. What about you, if you’re not working here?”

He shrugs. “Nah, too much effort.”

“Can’t believe you got scouted for volleyball with that lazy-ass attitude.” You fling your crumpled tissue at him.

Suna catches it and shoots it straight into the bin without moving from his seat. “Work smarter not harder.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two weeks whirl by quicker than a sunshower.

Suna spends it chatting with you during your frequent visits (your hotel isn’t too far) to the store, hanging with you at the beach (the one a stone’s throw away), and texting with you till late night in the comfort of his bed.

Your mother definitely gave him a few looks during the times she came to the store with you. Her flavor of choice is caramel coffee and yours, rainbow sherbet.

He gave her a free scoop once, and now she praises him, “You’re such a good kid,” every time before leaving. You’ll roll your eyes and he’ll give you a peace sign.

He stays in touch with you for the rest of summer break after you leave.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When school restarts, the two of you are still in contact. You don’t use social media, but you’ll send him photos of your life in Tokyo and he’ll send you links to his posts and stories.

September wind blows and this gradually peters out in autumn as the Inarizaki High Volleyball Club shifts into full gear for Nationals in winter.

[Good luck preparing for Nationals! Maybe we can catch up in Tokyo when you’re here!]

He’s so tired from practice, he tells himself he will reply tomorrow. But Suna forgets, and he does reply, only two weeks later. Yours come in another week. Then his, the week after.

Eventually, rainbow sherbets and the girl he met over summer fades to the back of Suna’s mind, just as the last leaves of autumn sheds.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It momentarily crosses his mind to contact you again, two nights before Nationals.

In the rush of prepping for the games and packing for the trip to Tokyo, it slips his mind until he’s standing outside the stadium gates. But they lose to Karasuno, and the message is never sent as he is once again packing to leave.

He suddenly feels like eating rainbow sherbets, but it’s too cold for ice-cream.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next time Suna sees you, it is once again in Aichi, in the summer of his sixteenth year.

He didn’t plan on coming back here, but after their loss at Nationals and the rigorous training in the following months, Suna decided he needs a break away from Hyogo and the goons he calls his teammates.

He definitely did not expect to see you again.

The sight of you, fingers waving timidly from the sunlit entrance accompanied by bell-chimes, melts the cone in his hand. A fuzzy, sticky repeat of last year.

He’s in that void again, where everything else seems to vanish and there’s hot sand in his ears, between his toes, warm wind in his stomach running up his throat– déjà vu has never felt more full yet it’s different. It’s the same blank space, only less… empty. Less white. There’s color to the sand this year, and he can hear rustling in trees that weren’t there before, only it’s not the wind but fans.

“What’re you doing here?”

“I had fun here last year so,” you shrug, small and shy, head tucked into yourself. “I asked my mum if we could visit again.” A finger twirls a lock of hair.

Suna’s heart leaps as his mind races, jumping and wondering if it was fun because of him because he remembers how you brought Summer into his August. Even if he hasn’t tasted rainbow sherbets since he last saw you, and cannot remember what you talked about under the cover of night and cotton sheets.

In a close replay of last year, Suna feels rejuvenated with your presence in this tiny, warm shop. The fans are a godsend.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He wonders if he should apologize for not responding about Tokyo and his haphazard responses until that point. It’s probably weird to do that now.

You don’t mention it either so he figures it doesn’t matter.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I wondered if you would be here, but didn’t think that you actually would,” you say, licking at your rainbow sherbet. Typical.

“Me? I’m more surprised you’re here again. There’s nothing to do here.”

“That’s not true. My mum liked it. She likes that it’s close to the ocean but she can still hop on a train and go shopping.”

Suna side-eyes you with doubt but finds you facing him with a grin. His body naturally turns towards you.

“Besides, you’re here too!” you giggle, meaning nothing more than a joke easily said between friends. His chest thrums all the same and white shores seep into his vision.

Suna flicks your forehead in response.

“Hey–”

“Gimmie a bite.”

“I thought you hated rainbow sherbet!” you protest, but bring your cone up anyways.

“Maybe I’ve changed my mind.”

He grabs your wrist as if to steady the cone and prevent any attempt to smash the entire thing into his face. The way he looks at you, steady and unwavering, from underneath the hood of his uniform cap is telling you something else.

Cracks dance up the cone from where your fingers press tightly into the biscuit, raining crumbs onto the space between your bodies. Suna pulls back and you take a large bite opposite of where he sunk his teeth into yellow.

“Yep, it still sucks.”

His face scrunches and you punch his arm. At least he didn’t gag this time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Suna keeps in touch with you regularly through the year, until the following summer.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On his seventeenth summer, Suna plans to go back to Aichi again. This time, he knows you will be there because the two of you planned it.

Now that you’re older, your mum is allowing you to travel on your own; she also trusts the ‘good kid’ to take care of her daughter, to your chagrin.

The Miya twins are constantly bothering Suna this year, wondering why he keeps going back to Aichi when all he’s done is complain about how boring it was in previous years– which it is, besides you. They’ve heard about you before though, the girl he met in the summer of two years ago.

“Ya’ know, she must really like ya’ if she’s goin’ all the way there again to visit ya,’” Atsumu comments, chomping on yakisoba bread. Osamu makes a garbled sound of agreement through his food.

“We’re just friends,” Suna says, face straight, but he wonders if you know how the world vanishes into nothing when he’s with you. He feels anxious merely thinking about it.

“Sure, friends,” Atsumu waggles his brows and Osamu nods.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This year, his uncle invites you to join them for dinner at his grandmother’s home.

He’s spotted you a few times over the years, and gives Suna much grief about the girl his nephew's constantly loitering around with outside of work, and during work. He often says with a wink, “I’m paying you to work, not to flirt!”

Suna never says anything in response, only squints his eyes and shakes his head at the older man that acts younger than Suna himself; he knows he does the work expected of him even if he may slack here and there.

Dinner with his uncle, grandmother, and a cousin that decided to join them last minute is a simple yet loud affair.

Suna’s uncle is rowdy with a positive outlook on all things in life; says he chose to open an ice-cream shop because ice-cream makes everybody smile. His grandmother is along in years, silver crowning her demure frame and lovely smile. She absolutely adores you.

“I’ve never seen Rinrin bring a friend, much less a friend, around. You are his girlfriend, yes?”

Suna’s never had miso up his nostrils before but there we go. A first time for everything.

“Grandma–” he groans but says nothing more; doesn’t attempt to deny it, only glance at you snickering next to him. He notes with a little shake of his leg that you didn’t either.

(He’s overthinking, he’s assuming, he definitely is–)

It’s late when you finally leave, and Suna volunteers to walk you back to your lodge before his uncle can offer to drive you. He can feel their grins burning into his back as he puts on his shoes after you, and throws them an exasperated glare before the door closes.

“Your family is really nice.”

He rubs the space between his brows. “I’m glad they live here and not in Hyogo. They’re too much.”

“What are your parents like?”

“Like that . My mum had to get it from somewhere. My father’s quieter.”

You laugh and conversation flows easy as it always does when he’s with you. He doesn’t have to think about anything in particular; colors naturally flow to color the void without his intention. It’s all peaceful, the world vanishing and leaving a blank canvas that’s meant for you to cover with pale cream footprints, and greens, pinks, and oranges.

Night zephyrs slap a leaf onto your face and you throw it at Suna. A splotch of green spreads on the canvas.

You’ve long since walked by your lodge and Suna follows without question, trailing gravel crunching beneath your shoes and the ocean breeze in your hair. The stars are out in full force tonight but the brightest star is next to him, voice shimmering with August life.

His Summer.

The ocean, pulsating in deep indigo, stretches beyond concrete barriers erected on the road side.

Suna watches when you ignore the barrier’s sole purpose and climb onto it, inviting him to join you with the beckoning of your hand and a pat to the empty space next to you; a space he gladly fills.

“You don’t see stars like this in Tokyo,” you whisper, afraid of shattering the quiet seaside.

Suna takes his phone out, wiping at the black of his screen. You tilt your head, asking doubtfully if he can even snap a photo of the stars with that, but it changes to pleasant surprise when he flips the camera and shifts closer to you.

The dim light from a nearby lamp is barely enough to illuminate your features but if he squints and zooms in, barely – just barely –, you can make out the ridge of his nose below glinting chartreuse through prismatic noise. And Suna can somewhat trace your teeth glowing baby blue and the push of your cheeks.

“It’s so shit,” you guffaw, snatching his phone to zoom around your unrecognizable faces.

“It’s natural lighting. None of those disgusting filters you kids like to use.”

“We’re literally the same age!”

His phone is returned, and Suna’s fingers tap on the back of his case as he deliberates, jittery under the universe and you, wholly unaware of his nerves.

In another 3 hours, the sun will rise and when you finally stand, he finds the courage to blurt the words that have been spooling in his head since midnight.

(He wishes for a longer Summer with you)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

All the nervousness that hounded Suna when he invited you to the local fireworks festival a few nights ago? It’s all gone the moment he sees you in your yukata, the folding fan his grandmother lent you slipped neatly into your obi.

Never mind that you packed one for your trip. “Swimsuits are not the only essentials for a summer vacay~”

So you say. Suna isn’t complaining.

Festivals have never been his thing; it’s hot, humid, crowded– moist . Yet, he looked forward to this one with you. He’s never been to this festival until now, walking next to you with a cooler in his hand.

“What’s in there?” you peek curiously at the box, reaching for the clasp.

Suna lifts the box up high where your grubby hands are unable to grab them.

“Later.”

You pout; long fingers poke your cheeks but later comes sooner than you expected. Sitting on a green picnic sheet that has seen better days, Suna opens the box. A pint of rainbow sherbet beams from a bed of ice, to your great pleasure.

“I thought you hated rainbow sherbet!” you exclaim, heartily accepting the spoon he hands you.

Suna shrugs, struggling to keep his expression even at your simple joy. “It’s alright,” he says coolly, popping the lid off and letting you take the first scoop.

A triple-colored wave curls against your spoon just as the first boom goes off, splashing starlit skies with fiery flowers of red, green, and gold.

The plain skies above white shores he shares with you, too, are filled with bursts of rainbows.

(Perhaps it isn’t purple lightning. Instead, it is a pint of ice-cream between your bodies. Love at first sight is a trifecta of colors, exploding)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Do you believe in love at first sight?”

Your jaw drops, not expecting that question from Suna Rintarou. Nonetheless, you pause, and Suna can see the gears churning in your head. He doesn’t know why, but he appreciates that; a certain pair of twins wouldn’t have given him the same courtesy.

When you finally answer, Suna leans in. “It’s hard to say for sure but I probably do.”

“Probably?”

“I mean, I don’t know if it is love at first sight, but maybe more like wanting to know a person more. Way more than other people, right away.”

Your answer, though not bad, makes Suna a tad nervous.

“It’s like discovering a new place, you know?” You nod to the world outside the shop window, sweltering in the unforgiving sun. “I didn’t think I would love this place the first time I came here. Now I’m here for the third year in a row!”

“With this shop or my hometown?” Suna wears a teasing smirk but it feels like he’s about to have a heart attack.

You smile furtively and Suna never gets an answer. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

He very much does.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On your last night in Aichi before you take Summer away with you, Suna unlocks the door to his uncle’s ice-cream shop. He has received express permission to “help yourselves” to a buffet of ice-cream as your farewell gift (until next year).

He’s never eaten so much ice-cream in one sitting before in his life, and likely, neither have you judging by the way you’re massaging your stomach. His own hurts, and the sugar running in his blood makes him want to grab your hand and run out onto the beach.

You groan, poking at the remains of your rainbow sherbet. “Rin~ help me finish this!”

His tongue juts out. “Ew, rainbow sherbet. No thanks.”

“Please! I’m struggling,” you bemoan, listlessly swallowing another spoonful.

Torn between sighing and chuckling at your torment, Suna moves his chair next to yours. His acquiescence revitalizes you, and you immediately bring your spoon up to feed him in a familiar repeat of the first time you met him.

And just like the first time, Suna wraps his hand around your wrist, pulling the spoon– you– closer as he leans in. His palms burn like the mid-August sky over your midsummer skin.

His lips part.

Lime and raspberry. The sour taste makes him squint.

His expression makes you grin, causing the little stripe of green lime on the corner of your mouth to stretch.

It’s that damn stripe’s fault.

It compelled Suna, pulling him beyond the spoon falling loose in your hand to touch his lips on that stripe of green.

A soft taste of lime. Sour. It makes him squeeze his eyes shut, or so he tells himself.

It’s not the hard beating of his heart, the panic that lances him when he realizes what he has done, the fear of seeing your reaction and feeling your mouth tremble against his.

Surprise and nerves, he likes to think, and tells himself.

Suna keeps his eyes squeezed closed, the layer of sweat between where his hand meets your skin palpable as the damning taste of lime on both your lips.

Hours seemed to come and went in the seconds he allowed his hormones and stupid, summery feelings get the better of him and you only sat there, still and silent. Suna still has his eyes sewed shut, and can’t see your expression. He can’t see jack shit and the only thing telling him that you’re still there is the unbroken touch of your lips against his and your shaky, warm breaths.

It was only seconds but it felt like an eternity to Suna, before you finally moved and saved him from his spiraling mind and the awkwardness that was creeping upon him.

It’s tentative, unsure, and Suna wasn’t sure if he imagined it at first but there’s no mistaking the light press back and gods, Suna would have heaved in relief if he wasn’t still connected to you by the mouth, featherlight it may be.

At seventeen, you and Suna shared your first kisses with each other. It was awkward, weird, sticky and tasted like lime. Short. But sweet.

Perhaps rainbow sherbet isn’t as bad as he thought.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He’s not sure why but in the weeks, then months, following that kiss– unaddressed, unspoken of henceforth– the two of you don’t speak as much anymore. The messages petered out like the end of a summer shower, muggy and uncomfortable, and clings to him long after summer and rain have gone.

The last exchange had been amiable.

‘Good night.’

Yet, it was excruciatingly hard picking it up again as the days slipped by.

The last of autumn’s leaves fall and Suna wonders if it would be strange suddenly messaging you out of the blue. He stares long at the ‘seen’ and timestamp from hotter days.

Gods, he’s seventeen and thinks it’d definitely be lame to do so. Besides, if you wanted to talk to him, you could always message him first too.

And you haven’t.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You too, stare at the ‘seen’ and timestamp recollecting balmy days. With cheeks pressed deep into your arms and blankets wrapped tight all around against the encroaching winter, wondering what it’d feel like if it were the arms of a certain ice-cream shop boy instead.

But you’re seventeen and the future is scary and uncertain.

The letter confirming your acceptance to your chosen study abroad program peeks tauntingly at you from underneath stacks of books.

You were happy– still are– when you received the news back in July. You had planned to share that joy with Suna when you met him in Aichi in the summer. Yet, something held you back, kept the words from being spilled even as ice-cream melted and foolish secrets were shared under starry skies and blanket of waves.

You were resolved to tell him and had been prepared to do so on your last night in Aichi–

Then he kissed you. And you kissed back, with surprise and an elated heart.

And you didn’t say anything after that.

Stupid.

It’s all so silly. This crushing in your chest– you want to stay, to visit Aichi and see Suna again. You want to go, pursue your dreams and studies abroad as you have always planned before him and his damn pink-yellow cap ever appeared in your life.

You want more summer days with Suna, and autumn, winter, and spring! You want all the seasons with him, to explore this undeniable attraction but–

‘Good night.’

It’s been weeks since either of you said anything. They always say that if a guy truly likes you, he would reach out no matter what.

And he hasn’t.

You’re going abroad. You already know that, deep in your mind, despite what your young heart longs for.

You’re seventeen and decided that it would be illogical to pursue anything with the ice-cream boy, with the most brilliant, unforgettable set of eyes you met over summers.

And just like that, it was as if neither of you were ever in each other’s lives.

Like fireworks, the two of you splashed and burned brief, shared months and dispersed in wisps of smoke to the world.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On his eighteenth summer, Suna returns to Aichi again to work at his uncle’s shop.

He has since moved to Tokyo to pursue his own ambitions, but something he wishes to not name pulls him back to his uncle’s shop, like it had every year, for the past three years.

His eyes constantly dart to look at every shadow that passes by the windows, and his head zooms up with every ding of the bell. The days pass slowly, more excruciating than usual, thick and syrupy from dawn to dusk.

You never showed up.

(It doesn’t feel like summer at all)

The bell chimes for what would be the final time for Suna. As the last customer of the summer and the rest of his life ponders what flavor they will have, Suna impetuously stabs the tasting spoon he had been holding into the swirly tub of green, orange, and pink– and takes a bite.

Yuck. Rainbow sherbet isn’t as good as he thought.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You are eighteen and abroad, young and excited.

Yet everytime you come across an ice-cream shop, hear waves and feel the sand between your toes, see the occasional, miraculous starry sky–

From halfway across the world, you are reminded of brilliant yellow eyes and a boy in pink and yellow stripes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On your nineteenth summer, you return to Aichi.

With a thudding heart and hopes and young daydreams of what could be.

Will it be awkward? What shall you say first? Something witty or nostalgic? What will he say when he sees you? Will he be happy to see you?

The bell chimed and none of those mattered when it wasn’t Suna at the counter but his uncle instead.

“Didn’t he tell you? He isn’t returning to Aichi this year.”

“Oh.” Your throat is closing up. “I wanted to surprise him so I didn’t ask him in case it tipped him off–” You rub your neck to alleviate the embarrassment burning hot there and blink multiple times, forcing away the rising pressure in your eyes.

“You silly kids!” Suna’s uncle laughs. “He was here last year but you weren’t! And now you are! Wait till I tell him–”

“Please don’t tell him! He might feel bad if you did, and it was entirely my fault for not checking with him.” In truth, you called but the line didn’t go through. His number has changed.

“You sure? Knowing Rintarou he’d just scratch his bum about it–”

You giggle despite your falling heart. “I’m sure. Perhaps next year.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You return to Aichi again on your twentieth summer. And your twenty-first.

Unlike previously, it was less for the specific purpose of seeing him and more to visit a place, and its inhabitants, that has grown close to you.

But the hope that he would be there never truly died, and each time you entered the ice-cream shop with a full heart close to combusting, that does, inadvertently burst.

For Suna never visited Aichi again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s been four years since Suna last visited his hometown. He is now twenty-two.

In his defense, he presently plays for EJP Raijins and has been incredibly busy with his career; the last few years have been tough: training, press, tournaments, and everything else that comes with becoming an upcoming pro athlete.

His family understands that. Still, it has been a while since he saw his grandmother and uncle; his parents visit him in Tokyo every year. So he’s invited them all to his game this year, fully paid for by him.

Only, in place of his grandmother, he saw you instead when he went to greet them in the hall before the game. There you were, shuffling nervously next to his uncle, looking as if you haven’t changed at all in the last four years, even if you have grown up. The both of you have.

Suna felt it again, the same feeling he had when he saw you all those years ago. It’s faint, dimmer than when it first manifested in his fifteen year old self; a white void, great and silent, cascading onto him. But it’s the same one, he’s sure of it. Because he’s never felt it with anyone else he’s met, and he’s met a lot of people in recent years.

Suna doesn’t know why; it’s illogical, but he supposes that everything concerning this feeling is, though he is reluctant to name it. He’s always thought that, long before it happened to him.

Long before he met you.

“Hi,” you say shyly.

It feels like he freshly emerged from an overtime match when he breathes out, “Hey.”

These two words are all that is said between you before he is marching off to the locker rooms with an empty head– white shores– ‘Hi’s and ‘Hey’s etched in the sand. Suna wants to ram his head onto the lockers for reasons he cannot comprehend.

Seeing you again after all these years…he is transported back to his uncle’s shop, wearing that stupid pink and yellow striped uniform with chocolate dripping down his hand. The EJP Raijins jersey he’s quietly proud of melts away in the face of you, an occurrence he never fathomed.

The void stays when the whistle blows, but he isn’t distracted. On the contrary, the thought of you in the crowd, watching him, sustains the quiet shores inside of his mind and heart; its peace drowns out the cheers.

And Suna played the best he has ever played since he joined the team.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Rintarou, stop being dumb. I thought you’re smarter than this.”

“Uncle, what are you talking about–”’

“You know what I’m talking about! Watching you two during dinner was embarrassing! You barely spoke! Your grandfather’s rolling in his grave!”

“...no one asked you to look,” Suna counters weakly. “And leave grandpa out of this. Have some decency.”

His uncle rubs the palms of his hands into his eyes before carding them through his graying hair.

“I’ve watched you dance around each other since you were fifteen! Especially you, Suna!” he complains then repeats, “Fifteen! I didn’t let you have an ice-cream buffet for it to turn out like this!”

“We weren’t doing anything–”

“Rintarou.”

The serious tone his uncle took on made stops Suna mid-sentence. “She visited Aichi the last three years that you haven’t. She says it’s not to see you but she always asks how you’ve been doing.”

The information stuns Suna. You went back to Aichi? Why didn’t you say anything– oh. He changed his number. Well, why didn’t his uncle say anything?

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he inquires.

“She told me not to tell you, says she didn’t want to bother you and that ‘it’s weird.’ You kids and your social taboos. Still, I promised and I don’t break my promises.” He jabs Suna on the chest and adds, “You better not too!”

“It’s why I don’t make promises,” Suna mumbles and swats his uncle’s hand away. “Anyways, there’s nothing to say–”

His uncle lets out a loud, garbled cry of random sounds. “Your grandmother didn’t give her tickets away for you to chicken out! Your parents raised you better than this!”

“I can’t believe even grandma is in on this…”

Strong hands clasp him on the shoulders and Suna is forced to look his uncle in the eye.

“Go and talk to her. Properly. Like an adult.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

knock knock

‘Talk to her or I’ll tell grandma about the things you post on your Instagruel, Instrument– whatever it’s called!’

Suna sighs as he wonders why he never saw his uncle as the extortionist that he is. The man quite literally made him promise, with linked pinkies and all, to go talk to you before the night is over.

Suna doesn’t make promises but he keeps those that he does.

It’s not that he doesn’t want to talk to you. But what is there to say? Things weren’t exactly… clear , the last you and him spoke and saw each other, for that matter. He kissed you, you kissed back, and then poof. In modern dating terms, it’s safe to say that you mutually ghosted each other out of sheer– he doesn’t know what on your end– but definitely young stupidity on his.

“Rin? It’s getting late, what are you doing here?” You blink at him, surprise plain on your face at the unexpected guest.

Suna almost smiles at the nickname. It’s been a while since he heard you address him by that. At all, really.

He takes in your appearance, notes your fingers tugging at the hem of your shirt and the drumming of the other on the doorknob. Have you been as restless as he was this entire evening?

“I was wondering if you’d like to go for a walk with me?” Suna winces at his unnatural politeness. It’s you; he’s never this polite with you, not even when you were a customer. It’s bizarre.

There’s a brief moment of hesitance, unconscious, in the way you took a small step back before you’re nodding and asking him to wait whilst you went back inside your hotel room to change.

The winter air is crisp, wind tunneling between the buildings whipping at your figures as Suna leads you around aimlessly. Truth be told, he had no idea where to go or what to say.

“How have you been?” You break the ice.

Right, that’s a good place to start.

“I’ve been good. You?”

“I’ve been good too.”

“That’s good to hear.”

“Yeah.”

Suna wishes a truck will run off the curb and hit him now. His fingers are freezing off in his pockets and somehow they’re still sweating.

This is absolutely terrible.

A ray of hope cuts the grey path ahead, and Suna manages to peel his eyes away from his shoes to gaze upon his salvation–

Oh. It’s an ice-cream shop.

The irony isn’t lost on him. You don’t miss it either, for you peek up at him shyly, scratching at your cold cheeks, and ask, “Do you want to get any? For old time’s sake.”

When he nods, you turn and lead the way, grabbing the handle and missing how Suna stops following you just shy of the shop’s awning. He prefers to quickly rip the bandaid off.

“What happened?”

“Huh?” You look over your shoulder, confused. “What do you mean?”

Suna buries his face into his scarf as if to hide the burning ridge of his nose. “That night… you kissed back,” he mumbles. He has to force himself to look back at you, to discern and verify the rapid changes in your expression as you look for an answer.

Surprise, self-consciousness, bashfulness, nervousness, nostalgia–

“I–,” you clear your throat, the shop light shining like a beacon on your blushing skin, “I did.”

“Why did you kiss me back?” he addresses the giant, tri-colored elephant that has been slumbering in the back of his mind for years.

You sputter. “Why are you asking this all of a sudden? It was so long ago.”

“Tell me.” Suna persists, taking a step forward with narrowed eyes, pushing for a reason, an excuse, to justify the cloudy feelings he has been harboring for all these years and now jostled up by your unannounced appearance in his life again.

He’s not mad, he doesn’t not want you here, but the lack of closure for his young feelings, your reaction, and the lack of events that followed all those years ago isn’t pleasant. It leaves a muddy clog in his chest and quite frankly, he dislikes it. There was so much left unsaid and unexplained; perhaps he should have let it go and Suna thought he did. Until he saw you again.

And Suna knows, he just knows, that you feel the same way as he did.

Why else would you come see him play? Why else would you go back to Aichi the last couple of years?

Why did you two simply drift apart?

He’s so close to you now that he can see the perspiration beading on you, feel your warmth radiating and seeping into the folds of his clothes. You refuse to meet his eyes, looking here and there and everywhere but him right before you. Similarly, his heart is beating so loud that he’s sure you can hear it.

“Tell me.”

“Because I liked you! Okay?!” You finally cave, admitting with eyes squeezed tight. It reminds Suna of how he too kept his eyes closed as if his life depended on it when he first kissed you.

“Then why didn’t you say anything!? Why did you stop responding?”

“Don’t try and pin it on me. You didn’t contact me any further!”

“Neither did you!”

“Well, you changed your number and didn’t tell me!”

“That’s because I thought we’re no longer speaking with each other!”

You’re both breathing fast, hearts and emotions rising, and Suna glimpses the shop staff staring in concern through the glass. He deflates with a sigh and steps back before the staff misunderstands the situation and calls the police.

The streets of Tokyo are rarely silent yet somehow, this little area in the big city is exactly that. There’s only the sound of distant cars humming like waves on distant shores, and the muted chatter of people buzzing like summer cicadas; it reminds Suna of the times he went on late night walks with you along the beaches of his hometown.

You slap your hands over your face. “Oh my god…”

He snorts and laughs in turn at the incredulous conversation that took place. It doesn’t take long for you to peek through your fingers and join as well, chortling in disbelief.

“We were fucking dumb ,” he states.

“In our defense, we were young.”

“Still dumb.”

“Yeah, we were.”

An embarrassing silence follows as you stare at each other. Sunca can see the gears in your head churning, processing the revelation that the two of you had been, well, dumbasses for years. He can empathize, for his brain hurtles through the same process.

You break eye contact and look down at your shoes, scuffing them against concrete. “I guess there’s also another reason why I was hesitant to contact you after,” you begin mumbling, and Suna reflexively curls his hands into fists within the confines of his pockets.

“Yeah? Besides being a teenager incapable of communication?”

“It’s a better reason than that!” you pout furiously, head sinking into your scarf. “I was going abroad. I have been abroad, the last few years. College.

Suna whistles, sincerely impressed. “Nice. Where at?”

“Irrelevant. I’ll tell you later,” you brush off his question to continue your explanation– reasoning– to why you stopped contacting him.

Suna watches intently as you take a deep breath, idly noting how the ice-cream store staff are still staring at your figures with too much curiosity and intensity, the shop door failing to completely mute his conversation with you, bits and pieces filtering through the little vents at its foot.

One male staff even holds a cone in his hand, watching the scene unfold as if this were a movie. The man takes a long lick, eyes all the while glued on your figures.

“That night when you– we, well, you know–” you stumble over your words and Suna finds not much has changed; you were still as bad at communicating your feelings as you were at seventeen. You clear your throat of the clogging shyness, “At that time I already knew I was leaving Japan as soon as I graduated. I planned to tell you but then you–”

“I kissed you,” he supplies plainly.

“Yes. And, well, there didn’t seem to be a good moment to tell you after that,” you finish softly. Regret isn’t the right word to describe your feelings in this moment, reflecting back on that summer night and the next four years without closure. You do not regret ever following your aspirations abroad, especially not over a boy in your youth. You weren’t that dumb. However, you admit that you could have handled it better, communicated it, talked with him– “I should have handled it better.”

“Yeah, you should have.”

A disbelieving gasp leaves you, head whipping up angrily to tell Suna off but the teasing grin that greets you has your anger easily deflating.

Suna understands. He really does, because he would have done the same thing in your position. Had he known you were going to leave the country, would he still have kissed you? Probably, only because his body moved on its own that night. Though it doesn't mean he forgot the flutters, the want, whenever he was with you back then. It’s not too far off from what he’s feeling in the present; it’s dimmer, but it has grown, matured with him in age. He’s no longer as jittery and blinded by white shores.

He’s grown. You’ve grown.

“I should have done better too.”

A cloak that has long rested on the depths of his heart– of gray clouds and why’s, unnamed yet felt, ignored but not forgotten, existing as surely as he does breathes– lifts the moment he utters these words. He feels revivified– released, of this midsummer memory that has crawled into his mind countless times in the minutes before sleep takes him (his brain has a penchant of replaying it for him unbidden at 2am). Suna shudders to think that had his family not invited you to his match, he and you would have continued on with your lives carrying overcast hearts caused by something as silly as simply being teenagers still learning and growing.

Judging by the smile dimpling your cheeks, Suna knew you felt the same.

He nods at the shop door behind you. “We should probably go inside. That is…if you still want to?”

Your answer comes in a shy smile burrowing into clothes and a blast of hot air that his chilled body welcomes. The shop bell chimes and you are both transported to past summers and the first time you met in a wave of nostalgia.

Suna hasn’t gone to an ice-cream shop since the last time he worked for his uncle, having subconsciously avoided them in the shadow of his volleyball career as an excuse; your love for ice-cream shops developed because of many days spent at one with a special boy, and many more visited over the years in reminiscence and perhaps regret.

“There’s a buy one free one scoop deal for couples.” The male staff, the audacious one from before, announces when you reach the counter.

“Oh, we’re not–” you begin but Suna nudges you sneakily.

“Pick whatever flavor you want, honey. My treat.”

You had been his first love at first sight. And likely, you are the last.

Because Suna thinks that people who fall head over heels for someone at first glance are fools. Love is something that is grown into, to be slowly nurtured with time and dedication. To his logic-based brain, the entire idea of smashing head first into love at a glance is ludicrous, like a bad car crash where you never see it coming until it's too late.

He knows because he’s experienced it. Both the unexplainable, ridiculous butterflies sprouting into existence the moment you stepped through the door and into his life, and the subsequent 7 years it took to nurture it.

There was no car crash however, only teen folly and human imperfection.

You glance up at him with a cheeky grin as you answer, sing-song and all-knowing.

“I’ll have a rainbow sherbet.”

“Yuck.”

“It’s a good flavor!!”

An expression you’re not sure you have ever seen Suna make before lights his face for but a transient second. It’s one of those laughter-smiles, all teeth with wide lips and wrinkles accompanied by tuneful joy. Suna knows it too because the muscles pulling at his cheeks are unfamiliar, straining wider than he usually lets them in his side smirks.

“In that case, two rainbow sherbets please,” he tells the staff. He can feel your gaze pressing onto the side of his face with a question unspoken, and this is when Suna brings out his infamous smirk.

He takes both cones and turns to you with green, pink, and orange in the palms of his hands. A trifecta of colors.

They say that everyone becomes a believer of love at first sight when it happens to them. Well, Suna rightly doesn’t know.

All he knows is that, instead of purple lightning striking, there was only a void filled with empty white shores whenever he saw you; it didn’t matter how many times or how long in between. All Suna knows is that the world fades away in the presence of you.

As he hands you your cone, Suna sees colors dyeing the white shores below his feet once more.

And Suna knows he will do it right this time.

#suna rintarou x reader #suna x reader #haikyuu x reader #suna rintarou x you #suna rintaro x reader #inarizaki x reader #hq x reader #suna rintarou #suna x you #hq!! x reader

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luvksj · 9 months

Text

Roman Reigns Request: His Warrior Queen

A/N: this is an overdue request for @queengreenarrowmia89. i apologize for the wait as i’ve had to deal with uni and a big writer’s block. the bloodline story has been phenomenal so far and now that the Usos have left - it’s getting even juicier. the MITB match was awesome especially with Jey pinning Roman, ending his ‘invincible streak’. god, this storyline deserves an Emmy, Oscar and all other TV awards cause it’s absolutely amazing. maybe we’ll finally get a Jey vs Roman rematch for his new title at Summerslam? i would love to see that. this imagine may be shorter than usual and for that i apologize.

i apologize if its shit, i tried my best. anyway, enjoy the story :)

pov: the story of Roman Reigns and his warrior queen, Jo Wilson

Roman Reigns and his wife, Jo Wilson were considered a power couple in WWE amongst fans, staff and fellow wrestlers. Some dreamed of having a love like theirs, you could call it a ‘fairytale romance’ but those who knew the couple well knew it was nothing like that.

It wasn’t easy with their equally busy schedules. They could be apart for months on end and only be able to speak with each other once or twice a week if that. But, they made it work. They fought hard for this relationship and made many sacrifices which helped create their unbreakable bond.

But how did the two lovebirds meet? I’ll tell ya.

Before Jo, Roman was with Galina Becker and had Joelle together. A year after Joelle was born, they decided to go their separate ways but remained on good terms and co-parented, raising Joelle together. It was an amicable split, their busy schedules meant they couldn’t be together often and ended up growing distant.

It was a few months following his split from Galina that Roman met Jo Wilson. A friend of Jo had an extra ticket to RAW and asked if she wanted to come. Jo, having nothing better to do, agreed.

Jo knew nothing about wrestling, she was going into this blind. I mean, she did a quick Google search but it barely told her anything - so she was relying on her friend to ‘educate’ her about one of their favourite things ever.

When Jo first saw Roman, she was entraced by him. His menancing aura, the power it radiated. He was making his entrance, standing at the top of the stairs flanked by his two team-mates. Jo couldn’t take her eyes off him, everything about him captivated her.

Everything about him just screamed power and dominance. He walked around like he owned this place, his tall statue was enough to make people tremble. Jo proceeded to ask her friend about him, she wanted to know more about this Samoan man.

“That’s Roman Reigns. He’s part of the Shield with Seth Rollins and Dean Ambrose. His nickname is the Big Dog for very obvious reasons.” Jo’s friend explained. Jo’s eyes remained fixated on Roman for the whole match, he never left her sight - she was hypnotised by him.

The power and dominance he exuded mixed with the cheeky smirks made Jo’s heart go doki doki. They briefly made eye contact, Roman grinned at her and she swore that her face had never turned on red in her life.

He looked like a god in her eyes - the way his long black hair stuck to his body because of his sweat made him look all the hotter. The way Roman loomed over his opponent made Jo’s thoughts turn south but she reigned herself back in. Roman won his match and glanced at Jo, he winked at her making her face redder and her heart beat even louder.

“Well... did you enjoy it?” Jo’s friend asked once RAW had finished. She nodded, still in a daze, “I saw you oogling at Roman. You like him, don’t you?” her friend teased making Jo smack their shoulder in embarassment which made her friend laugh.

Before exiting the arena, a staff member stopped them and handed Jo a piece of paper claiming someone backstage wanted to give it to them. She opened it to reveal a phone number from Roman Reigns, it took everything in Jo and her friend to not scream.

“You’ve gotta text him!” her friend urged and after relentless pestering, she did.

‘Hi, you gave me your number. I don’t know if you remember me or not but I thought I’d say that you were so cool tonight.’

Jo wasn’t expecting an instant reply since he’s a busy man, she wasn’t expecting a reply at all. She only did it so her friend stopped bugging her. To her utter surprise, Roman did reply a couple hours later:

‘Hi, I remember you. You wouldn’t stop staring at me during my match and I thought you looked rather cute. What’s your name?’

Squealing, she hugged her pillow hard and kicked her feet in the air. Jo didn’t know if it was out of embarrassment or excitement - maybe it was a bit of both. Embarrassed that he knew she stared at him the entire time, she must’ve looked dumb but excited that he remembered her and called her CUTE!

Responding, they found themselves messaging each other whenever they were free. Jo was a gynecologist, someone who specialized in female reproductive health and loved her work.

It wasn’t until months later that Roman and Jo coincidentally met again... at the hospital. Roman was there to get checked up after getting hurt in a match. Jo had just finished her shift and recognized Roman, who was waiting to be seen.

Mustering up enough confidence, she approached him and they began talking. They could both sense an undeniable chemistry and attraction between them, it felt like they’ve known each other for years when it’s only been a few months. Jo ended up waiting for Roman and chatted more over Waffle House.

After months of pinning, Roman officially asked Jo out and she said yes. She met his family and they immediately accepted her. She even met Galina when Galina dropped Joelle off, they became quick friends and she bonded well with Joelle.

Like every relationship, it had its ups and downs - times where they were near breakup but powered through. Jo had visited Roman at work a few times when she had free time and WWE was in Florida, she befriend a few people including Seth and Dean.

Years of dating, Roman finally proposed to Jo in an intimate moment and during this time, Jo was pregnant with their first children. They got married in a gorgeous, private ceremony in Samoa with all their friends and family present. The friend who took Jo to that RAW was her maid of honour, she proudly declared that she was the reason Jo and Roman met during her speech.

Jo gave birth a few months after the honeymoon. She gave birth to a beautiful girl named Luna. Roman was over the moon and Joelle had quickly adapted to her new role as the eldest sibling. Jo watched the two fondly, her life literally couldn’t be more perfect.

Fast forward to now, Roman and Jo were the proud parents of 6: Joelle, Luna, twin boys named Christian Roman and Seth, another set of twin boys; Jimmy and Jey, after Roman’s cousins. Jo was also expecting twin girls and they had already decided on the names: Madison Meredith and Patricia Lexi.

With her due date fast approaching, Roman had been taking time off WWE to care for his pregnant wife and look after his children with help from their eldest children. Jo still worked as a gynecologist despite Roman earning more than enough to support the family, she loved her career and Roman would never ask her to give up something she was passionate about.

Jo watched WWE from time to time. In all honesty, she wasn’t the biggest fan of his current gimmick - the Tribal Chief and would sometimes scold him for attacking wrestlers, especially her favourite ones. Wrestling wasn’t her thing but she always supported her husband, being his number one cheerleader and sending him good luck texts before matches.

Roman considered it his good luck charm, without her encouraging text he would’ve lost the title a long time ago. He was lucky for many reasons but in his opinion, the luckiest thing he ever had was his amazing family.

Roman didn’t enjoy being away from his family for so long and plans to take an extended hiatus once his twin girls were born. Sure, he enjoyed his career and wrestling in front of thousands of fans and travelling all over the world to wrestle. But nothing beats being with his family, he’d pick his family over his career any day of the week without hesitation.

Roman had his wife to thank for this life, someone he proudly dubbed his warrior queen and his eyes - the true Tribal Chief of the family.

#wwe imagine #wwe reactions #wwe reaction #wwe #The Bloodline #The Usos #wrestling fanfiction #wrestling imagine #wrestling imagines #roman reigns #the tribal chief #the shield

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nicholaslehoy · 12 days

Text

pinterest . musings . tw self harm suggestions / narcissism / prostitution / drugs / nsfw content / being a not great person .

“ money can’t buy happiness but i’d rather cry in my ferrari . “

for the most part nick was raised by a regular working class couple who married young and only had one child … him . he was always encouraged to pursue his dreams and he quickly found out that he had a talent for sports . by the age of twelve or thirteen then he was one to watch and quickly propelled to fame and scouted by eighteen , he ended up landing a scholarship that he didn’t really need . his parents had worked hard to save up and managed to get into some richer crowds - he wouldn't have struggled .

tw self harm , nick developed a habit of raging out when he didn’t meet his own standards . sure , he thought he was the fucking best but he was always living up to his own reflection and so it was an endless life of self obsession and then rage . he would end up with a lot of sports injuries from overworking and nobody could ever question him without receiving a barrage of hatred .

nick was competitive , an ego maniac in every way … not just in sports . if someone had a sob story then his had to be worse , if someone had a girlfriend , his had to be hotter . he went through women like he went through lines of cocaine . fast and furious , ending a little bloody .

nick would make up whatever came into his head when he later became famous , lying and pretending he was fatherless … pretending he was raised by some single mom who slaved away in a diner . he wanted to be relatable so he manufactured a life for himself and even sold his own story to the tabloids leading to his parents wondering what on earth was wrong with him but he just laughed in their faces . they didn’t get it , they were too simple and boring . even the story of chris wilder's disappearance wasn't sad enough for him .

in the public eye , nick was a rockstar . sexy , young , interesting . he had a new woman constantly and always looked good . the double standard of how these women he dated were portrayed was laughable but he didn’t care because women were just objects to him and they could be thrown away at any moment .

nick didn’t just have an addiction to drugs , he was addicted to sex . he paid for hookers almost every night and he had more respect for them than any woman that he’d actually had a conversation with because they knew what they were there for and when to leave .

by his 23rd birthday then his family were done with him but nick was rich , kicking it in ridiculous style in his big house with his pets and friends and money . he was drafted into a popular team in the nfl and became the focus of even more media attention for his rags to riches story lie .

now nick has been kicked out of the nfl after being injured when caught in a huge a drugs bust sex work scandal that got leaked to the media . on top of that , he was found to have been having an affair with his agents wife so under new management , he has been told that he needs to get clean and rebuild his image .

a couple of years of apology tours and management that still won't budge and an invitation back to his old haunts seems to both trigger him and excite him . he won't be controlled by someone else but he has to find out more ... and if nothing else ... maybe if he brings a new sob story to light then he might seem like a good person again ... rebuilding bridges with old friends and family . everyone loves the underdog .

#intro

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oatmealcrisp-freak · 2 years

Text

Reigen stared.

“Saiki,” He said. “Did you bring your entire class with you?”

Saiki looked over his shoulder then looked back at Reigen. “No,” he said. “This is only nine people.”

“I said you could bring one person. One.”

“I did.”

Reigen looked over Saiki’s head and squinted, wondering in what world that many kids equated to one. A lot of sheepish but mostly unapologetic smiles stared back at him.

Saiki said, “They brought themselves, I had nothing to do with this.”

“Yeah,” Reigen clicked his tongue. “I am not paying for all of you.”

A blue haired girl laughed and waved her hand. Reigen squinted. Was she glowing? Why did Reigen sort of want to do anything she said? “Please don’t worry yourself on our accounts, sir, we’re paying our own way.”

“Yeah!” Kuboyasu grinned.

“We missed him.”

“Yeah, sorry to, like, barge in on your arrangements or whatevs! We wanna spend time with our boo!”

“But we did take care of all our own arrangements,” A responsible looking redhead said, his fists planted on his hips with a smile. Was it suddenly hotter in here…? “It’s good preparation for the future!”

A cheer went up. “Yeah!”

Ew.

Responsible children.

Gross.

“My parole finally lifted! Whoohoo, babes in bikinis!”

OR NOT?!

Reigen’s brows went up so fast they almost hit the roof as he did a double take at Toritsuka. What?! The kid was on parole? Or?? Off parole?!

Toritsuka was a felon?!

What on Earth was Saiki doing hanging around a felon?! Reigen, never convicted, felt abruptly overcome by a jittering urge to throw Saiki over his shoulder, Mob and Kurata on the other one, and book it after hitting the so-called monk who was apparently a felon with a facefull of pepperspray.

Aiura hit Toritsuka and the hooting teenager dropped like a rock. Reigen stared.

‘Not to throw rocks from glass houses but did I just witness an assault?’

“Like, don’t mind him,” The gyaru said, looking up from the body at her feet with a sparkling smile. “He’s reformed!”

“And he’ll stay that way if he knows what’s good for him,” Kuboyasu growled, popping his knuckles.

Yeah, uh, no. Why did that not make Reigen feel better? At all?

Reigen swallowed and pointed. “Do I need to be concer-”

The entire crowd of teenagers said at once, “NO!”

Reigen felt blown back a little bit. His jacket dropped off his shoulder a little, even. Given how crowded the airport was, it really was something that this ruckus of kids could be so center-of-attention. Actually, was there an even bigger crowd surrounding them than usual? And a chorus of people saying “Oh wow”, everyone looking their way like they were a bunch of idols (or maybe at the glowing one in particular but whatever). Was each and every one of them a main character or something?

A shudder of horror dripped down his spine. An entire symphony of teenage main characters that he, Reigen, the only adult, would need to coral and keep track of? To supervise? To supervise with Mob?! Gullible, innocent, naive Mob? (Kurata would be fine.) All by himself? Well of course there was Serizawa and Dimple but. No. No. For all that they were also adults, there was no way Reigen would trust either of them to supervise kids. Dimple would try to turn them all evil (the ones who could see him) and Serizawa was already hyperventilating his peopled in claustrophobia. Oh.

Oh.

Oh he felt so dizzy.

Saiki looked over his shoulder, then looked at Reigen, and actually bowed his head ever so slightly. “I sincerely apologize.”

Reigen actually believed him. He set a hand on the boy’s shoulder, part in sympathy and part because he actually needed to steady himself. “I accept your apology.”

“Uhm.” Kaidou stepped forward. “I’m. Actually Saiki’s plus one.”

…Was that supposed to make Reigen feel better, or-

“We can take care of ourselves,” The redhead said again. He had pure Class Rep energy. “Our parents wouldn’t have let us come by ourselves otherwise, hahaha! Please, sir, don’t worry about it so much.”

At that Kaidou gave Saiki an accusatory look.

Reigen looked at Saiki too, and wondered exactly if he should start worrying about it.

~~~

idk if im gonna keep this chapter opener or not but jic i dont hyg

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antipolin · 8 months

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What is the weird obsession that the Polins Pen Stans have with Anthony? It isn't just in their fanfics where they pair Anthony and Penelope - I have just seen one where Anthony is an asshole, like it seems the author absolutely hates him, but then he meets Penelope and Anthony turns around and falls in love and she 'saves' him which is just weird. Anyway, onto their weird obsession, even for the show and season three they are weirdly obsessed with Anthony idolising Penelope.

It seems that for many it starts with the end of season 2 because according to them Anthony saw Penelope run away in tears after Colin's words and he was worried about her - I call bullshit. Anthony was only concerned about finding Kate, and the only person who could distract him from that mission was Benedict, he didn't care about Penelope, he probably never even noticed her, but the Pen stans seem to think he noticed her, was worried, and will have a go at Colin for hurting her - as if Anthony would put the person who called his wife a beast above his brother.

Then of course you have those who want Anthony to be a father figure to Penelope - WTF??? It is almost like they didn't notice that Anthony spent season 2 learning that he didn't need to be a father to his siblings, and he should just be their brother, but they want to shove him right back into a father figure role for Penelope - why would he? He has barely spoken two lines (if any) to Penelope, barely even looked at her, he has mentioned her once in two seasons but now they want Anthony to think of Penelope like a daughter?? I am sorry but that is fucked up, Anthony is learning to be a brother to the siblings he had to be a father figure to, he is about to have his own children, why would he want to be a father figure to her?

Next they want that scene from TVWLM when Anthony 'saved' Penelope from Cressida's bullying completely disregarding that a version of that scene was given to Colin in season 1. And why would Anthony 'save' Penelope? He doesn't interact with her, he barely notices her, and at present his sister is mad at her so it would be like Anthony is going against his sister, which is totally out of character for Anthony, he is loyal and if his sister is not talking to Penelope then he probably will ignore her even more. Also, they forget that particular scene in TVWLM was nothing to do with Penelope, even in the book Anthony didn't notice Penelope, it was all about Kate, and he only went over to them because he knew something was wrong because of how Kate was, not Penelope.

They want Anthony to play the protective/guidance role with Penelope in season 3 that Lady Danbury has in the books, I mean it isn't like Anthony doesn't have enough siblings of his own - and a wife - that he feels the need to protect and guide, now he should be doing it for the bitch who called his wife a beast, ruined his sister and mocked his parents?

As previous anons have said, there is a sense of entitlement from the Polin fans, and that is a real turn off for the season and the ship, and I for one don't want Anthony to have any role with Penelope except to tell her she is not welcome until she provides a genuine apology to his family - especially his wife.

Anyway, that is my rant about Polin, rather Pen, stans and their fixation with Anthony. But to be fair to them Anthony is much hotter than Colin so I get they are jealous and pissed that Kate is Lady Bridgerton and Pen just gets stuck with the boring third brother who has less personality than the brother we barely see (Gregory)

My best guess is b/c Anthony is the head of the family, a main character. So they think it guarantees more screen time for their fave.

As if she doesn't have enough already.

SHOUT OUT TO GREGORY BRIDGERTON THE HEARTBREAKER OF THE FAMILY.

#anon #asks #anti penelope featherington #brief Gregory Bridgerton appreciation b/c look at how cute he is

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ladysharmaa · 2 years

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I need you

Bridgerton family x sis!reader

summary: when a suitor breaks Y/n's heart, her family comforts her, reminding her that all she needs is her siblings' love

requested: yes

warnings: heartbreak, pure fluff

Y/n kept a secret. She was participating in the season in hopes of finding a husband. She attended the balls, put on a fake smile she'd learned to master, and danced with everyone who asked politely under the watchful eye of her older siblings. But they didn't notice everything.

From dance to dance, between small moments of silence between conversations, Y/n's gaze moved to the other side of the room. Earl Harewood had shown up, accompanied by his parents, hoping to find a wife who could fulfill her responsibilities. From the first moment their eyes met, it felt like the room had gotten smaller, holding a breath at the sight of each other's beauty.

But the Earl's mother later told him that she had already chosen a woman for him to marry. All the dances he had with Y/n, the moments they spent in the ball garden talking and talking, the secrets they shared, the plans for the future, it would all be for nothing.

Y/n trusted that he would have the courage to stand up to his parents, showing that he wanted to marry for love and not someone they chose. Y/n still thought they might accept her, being a Bridgerton, but the Earl's supposed future wife had a higher social status, and her family owned more wealth than hers.

When he told her he couldn't stop her parents' decision and would have to get married, the Bridgerton girl wanted to cry. Scream. Run away. Beg for his love.

But she didn't say anything.

She was silent, her eyes watering. She bowed out of courtesy, walked to her door as he wanted to talk to her in her garden where they spent several moments together. Not once did he call her name, and that made her heart even more torn apart.

How could she have been so naive to think an Earl was going to marry her? How could she have allowed herself to be happy? She just thought how disappointed her mother would be, she was so excited thinking that one of her daughters was going to marry someone so important. All her life she had been prepared for marriage, and even that she had failed.

But what she cost the most wasn't that. It was knowing that she'd lost the first man she'd ever loved. She wouldn't know if she was ever going to be able to feel this love for someone else again. How could she? Her heart her belonged to someone who didn't desire her.

When Y/n entered the house, she looked around, relieved not to see any of her siblings or her mother. She didn't think she could hold back the tears much longer. Her luck ran out when Collin nearly hit her, her vision blurring from nearly shed tears.

"Sister! My apologies, I didn't see you," he exclaimed, grabbing her shoulders to keep her from falling. He finally noticed her eyes. "Is your conversation with the Earl of Harewood over? Did something happen?"

That was all it took for the tears to start falling, seeming not to want to stop despite Y/n closing her eyes to try to stop them from falling. Her lips came together in a thin line to keep from letting out the sobs that threatened to break her body. Collin's face was one of pure terror, never having been the one to deal with girl problems. His sister was crying and he had no idea what to do.

"Brother!" he called in distress, knowing that Benedict who was in the room knew what to do. "Can you fetch mother for me?"

"Mother is not home, I believe she went to have tea with Lady Watford." the painter appeared, immediately noticing Y/n's state and Collin's terrified face. He immediately glared at his younger brother. "What did you do?"

"Me?! I did nothing! She just started crying." Collin desperately defends himself. Was the room getting hotter? Because he sure was getting hot. "I don't know what to do, brother. What if it is a girl problem?"

If Y/n hadn't been so emotional, trying to keep her composure and not talking because she suspected it would only result in more tears and a husky, not-lady voice, she would have laughed at the sheer panic on Collin's face and Benedict's angry look. Everything got worse when Anthony showed up.

"Brothers, what seems to be the matter? I have work to do." he questioned impatiently, having been disturbed by the noise midway through the paperwork. The Viscount then noticed Y/n's rosy, tear-streaked cheeks and her teary eyes. He pointed at Benedict and Collin with a glare, asking through a clenched jaw, "What did you two do? Why does Y/n seem to be crying?"

"Oh lord. Brother, we haven't done anything." Colin grunted.

"When I arrived, Collin was with her and she was already crying." Benedict shrugged, preferring to blame his brother rather than deal with Anthony's anger.

"Nobody did anything to me!" Y/n finally shouted, putting silence to the argument that had formed between the brothers who argued with each other. She just wanted to go to her room without anyone bothering her. "If you excuse me brothers, I shall go to my room. I wish to be alone."

She didn't even wait for them to answer, starting up the stairs in a hurry. She faintly heard Anthony ask her to come down and talk to them, but Y/n ignored him and continued on her way, closing the door with a bang. She didn't even have the strength to go to her bed, sitting on the floor, her back against the door. She propped her elbows on her legs, hiding her face in her hands, finally letting her tears run free. Why did it hurt so much?

Meanwhile, downstairs the three Bridgerton brothers have never been so panicked and confused. Usually when this happened, their Mother was home and they didn't have to worry about comforting their sisters. That was not the case today. They shared a look, ending up yelling all at once, "Daphne! You must make haste!"

Y/n could hear the sound of a knock on the door over her sobs. She decided not to open the door, hoping that her brothers respected her choice and let her be alone in her own misery.

"Y/n? It's Daphne. Can you let me in, dear?" she heard her sister's angelic voice.

Y/n didn't want anyone's company, but she knew she would have to face her family someday. "Is it only you?" she asked, working up the strength to speak but cringing when she heard her husky voice.

"It is only me." Daphne nodded, waving her hand for Anthony, Benedict, and Collin to leave, who stood behind her, anxiously waiting for an answer. "I'm going to come in."

Daphne's heart sank as she entered, quickly closing the door so the others wouldn't come after her. Y/n was on the floor, cheeks and nose red, her eyes swollen from wiping away tears that are always replaced by new ones. Her hair was starting to come out of her impeccable hairstyle and her dress rumpled from sitting on the floor.

Daphne sat beside her, adjusting her dress to cover her legs. Y/n, who had his head tucked between his legs, looked at her, her lips trembling as new tears threatened to fall.

"Hi." she whispered, her voice breaking.

"Hello." Daphne whispered back. "Do you want to tell me what happened to the Earl of Harewood?"

"We are not to marry. He is going to marry some other woman his mother chose. He does not love me, sister." the younger sister explained sadly, hugging her legs even closer to her chest in comfort. "I thought we could have a future together, Daphne. But from the looks of it, our love meant nothing for him."

"Well, it's his loss. You're so beautiful, educated, talented, adventurous, smart and the list goes on. I could stay here all night just talking about how proud I am to be your sister." Daphne tried to comfort her by bringing Y/n onto her lap and hugging her. Although the floor was uncomfortable and her dress was wrinkling, all that mattered at that moment was Y/n. "Never doubt yourself. You have so many suitors, I'm sure you'll find someone you love and who treats you like a princess."

"Do you think?"

"I'm absolutely sure of it." Daphne smiled at her, wiping her tears away. "Now, our brothers are very worried about you and I'm pretty sure even Eloise stopped reading when she heard you were crying. You may not have an Earl, but you will always have us."

"And that will always be enough for me." Y/n smiled, wiping away tears and taking a deep breath. "Eloise would kill me if she knew I was crying over a man."

"You can always come for us crying about whatever you wish to cry about." she assured her sister, but a smirk appeared on her lips as she thought some more. "But yes, I'm quite positive that she would throw a book at your head. But you have Collin to hide behind."

"That's a good plan. Thank you, sister." Y/n said, getting up with Daphne and shaking out her dress. She looked at herself in the mirror, composing herself and tried to put the sadness of not having the person she loved to the back of her head. She had her family with her.

When she opened the door, hoping to face the empty hallway, she was surprised when all her siblings were behind the door, waiting for her. Apparently they were listening in on the conversation, because her brothers seemed ready to kill.

"I'm going to kill him." Anthony confirmed what she was thinking, his voice low and menacing, arms crossed over his chest.

"It's quite alright, Anthony." Y/n assured him, grabbing his arm before he even went after Earl. "I have to move on and forget about this. I still have some balls to attend."

"And we'll be there at all with you." Daphne said, placing a hand on her back in comfort.

"And if you want to leave, you just have to tell us and we leave." Benedict added since Anthony was still too angry, thinking about plans on how to kill the Earl for hurting his sister.

"I know." Y/n smiled, looking around at all her siblings comfortingly around her, feeling the pieces of her heart coming back together. However, she was snapped out of her thoughts when a book hit her head, one hand immediately going to the hurt spot. "Ouch! What was that for?"

"Crying over a man, please. We need to talk more about us, women. We don't need a man, Y/n. Now come on, I have many books you can read about this." Eloise said with her hands on her hips and linking her arms with hers, starting to head towards the library. Aside from the lesson, she was hoping this might distract Y/n for a while.

The other Bridgerton watched her as she listened to Eloise. She was going to be okay. They would make sure of it.

#bridgerton #anthony bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #collin bridgerton #daphne bridgerton #eloise bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x you #anthony bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton sister

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ramp-it-up · 3 years

Text

It Takes Two

Pairing: Soft Dark!Chris Evans x Reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI. Curate your own experience. Cursing, drinking, cheating, breakups, rehab, recovery, deception, lies, celibacy, manipulation, wedding planning, semi-public explicit, rough, sex, oral sex (m receiving), degradation kink, breeding kink, choking, dubiuous con (b/c of deception). Darkish! Scott Evans. This is not proofread!

A/N: @lovebittenbyevans gave me a great idea about still dealing with Chris when commenting on The One. I thought that the Chris in that fic could really go left and get pretty Dark and dirty. And then....

Anonymous asked:

Imagine Chris cheating on Y/N …

That made me think up this fic. It is a sequel to The One. I hope you like it!

-----

You left him.

You flew to Montreal to surprise him on set, trench coat and lingerie and everything, and when you opened the door to his trailer, you saw Heidi on her knees giving Chris a blowjob.

You cussed him out, threw the ring back in his face and turned around and left.

You blocked his number, moved out of his house and cut off all contact. You were done.

The audacity of Chris being indignant about your warnings about Heidi when he was boning her all along.

You loved Scott, but you had to cut him off too after he tried to explain that Chris was drunk when you found him, and was going to rehab to deal with his issues.

It was classic celebrity bullshit and you didn’t have time for it.

You decided to center yourself, and swear off all relationships and sex. You wanted to purge your mind of all that weighed you down.

You concluded that love, sex, and Chris Evans made you feel heavy as fuck.

You moved to New York City. It was far enough away from Chris and your folks in Houston to give you some peace.

You could still run your business and even think about a storefront. It was the perfect location to live your best life, eat healthy, exercise, socialize and network.

You fell in love with yourself, and you didn’t think much about Christopher Robert Evans at all.

Only every time you went on IG or Twitter, even though you blocked him and his hashtags. And every time you went to Target, because his fucking movies and merchandise were everywhere.

But you were cool, because you were doing you. You weren’t looking for love.

Of course, that’s when it found you.

Six months after you left Boston, you were at a natural beauty products expo in Brooklyn hawking your wares.

Your business had taken off, with almost a half million dollars in sales, and you were being interviewed by a major news outlet of color when one of the correspondents caught your eye.

You flirted, exchanged numbers and ended up going on a date. In another three months you were engaged to him.

Kevin Watts made you feel safe, protected and loved. And he wasn’t just after sex. He was well off, and secure in himself and you. It just felt right.

When Kevin proposed, it was just you and him at your favorite restaurant. So romantic.

Not like the rowdy family 4th of July party at which Chris asked you to marry him last year, in front of both your parents.

The laughter and the joy was just a little much.

This was perfect. You didn’t miss Chris at all. You set about planning your wedding with a profound sense of peace and safety.

You and Kevin were meant to be.

----

Chris was nothing without you.

Nothing but an award winning actor and producer, a multi-millionaire and founder of a major organization dedicated to bringing opposing political viewpoints together.

All of that was cool, and it kept him going, but when he lost you, he lost his motivation.

Chris didn’t take any more roles after the sequel with Heidi, and he dumped her post haste. He did enter rehab and realized that he depended way too much on alcohol to dull his emotions.

He got drunk off his ass when he was away from you because he missed you so much, and that led to him letting Heidi think that she could have him.

She’d had him physically, but never his heart. Or his mind. You owned those.

Chris followed your business closely, and was proud of your success.

Of course he followed your social media on burner accounts and saw that you were doing well.

You looked like you enjoyed being single and seemed healthy and happy.

He couldn’t ask for anything more for you.

Except to be his again.

Chris was just biding his time for your reunion, deciding to give you a year before he made his move.

Now he felt every emotion, and he knew that you must still love him too.

You just needed to realize that your life would be even better with him back in it.

The year apart would be just punishment for what he’d done to you, and when you came back together, it would be better than before.

Everyone speculated on his bachelorhood, wondering if he would settle down, speculating and gossiping about who he was with, but he just played coy and kept quiet.

No one would know that he was yours and yours alone, and that you were still his.

You just didn’t know it.

But you weren’t going along with the plan that you didn’t know about.

About seven months into his self-imposed purgatory, a complication started popping up on Chris’s feed.

Kevin.

And a couple of months after that, a post of a proposal, in a restaurant.

The asshole probably didn’t even ask or involve your folks. Chris was in a rage for a week.

He almost started drinking again, but as he got ready to drive to the liquor store, Kevin’s face flashed on his screen doing a report on the election.

Instead of making him even more angry, he smiled, elated at the thought that came to him.

Chris had a new plan, and it was going to be even better than before.

-----

The last three months had been a whirlwind, and you never thought it would turn out this way.

You were planning your wedding with your mother, discussing the seating at the reception, and you deciding where Chris Evans and his date would sit.

What a time to be alive.

Your mother only let it slip a couple of times that you should be marrying Chris, but for the most part, she kept it cute.

You explained to her that everything was squashed between you and Chris, and that he and Kevin had a great relationship, were friends, even.

They’d bonded over politics when Kevin interviewed him, and became buds before Chris even realized that you and he were together.

Kevin knew, but he wasn’t the jealous type, and he didn’t want to make things awkward. Surprisingly, Kevin insisted that he be at the wedding.

You thought about it and decided it would be the ultimate closure for Chris to watch you marry someone else.

You were pleasantly surprised at Chris. He was handling this very well. He never tried to contact you, and according to Kevin, never even mentioned you. That was growth.

Maybe you too could be friends.

You felt good about it. So much so that you unblocked him and started a dialogue.

-----

Hi.

Chris saw your number come across his apple watch and he practically did a dance. It was 9:24 pm. He picked up his phone and stared at the word, forcing himself to wait and not respond. He went to work out.

47 minutes later, he responded.

Hello?

This time, he sat and waited for your response, which came 7 minutes later.

I just wanted to say, I appreciate the way you're handling this.

Chris bit his lip, imagining you sitting there, thinking of what to say and staring down at your phone.

I’m sorry, I don't know who this is. You may have reached a wrong number?

He grinned at the play.

-----

Your heart dropped. Did he no longer have your contact?

Why would he do that?

You don’t know why you felt some kinda way; you’d blocked him.

Maybe he had changed his number and this was no longer his. Your heart was beating fast when you texted back.

Is this Chris? This is Y/N. I was just texting about Kevin Watts.

You anxiously watched the thought bubbles on imessage.

----

Even though you’d texted back almost immediately, Chris kept you hanging for just a couple of minutes. His dick was hard at the thought of communicating with you.

Fuck, you were such an aphrodesiac.

Oh shit! Y/N I’m sorry. I got a new phone.. You know how it is…

He knew you wouldn’t believe that. That’s why he said it.

You just stared at the phone. That was bullshit. You can easily port your contacts into a new phone. You just never believed that Chris would really move on. And you didn’t know why.

You had.

You took a deep breath and continued.

Lol, No worries! Just wanna say thank you for being cool with my Boo. I’m gonna turn in now. Check you later.

You tried to keep it light.

Chris ignored the ‘my Boo’ comment and focused on the thought of you in bed.

You usually slept in a tank top or t-shirt and panties, and the top would invariably come off because you got hot.

And then things would invariably get hotter if he was in bed with you….

Cool! Sweet dreams. Check you later. 😉

Chris made sure to exit your message thread and come back so that you wouldn’t see the thought bubbles that he saw when you kept staring at the text.

You were lost in the times that Chris always used to say that to you, and when he whispered “Sweet Dreams” in your ear when he was far away, you always had wet dreams about him.

And that wink.

How could a fucking yellow emoji turn you the fuck on?

You reached for your bullet vibrator as you continued to stare at the interaction.

Chis had already started stroking himself when you told him you were going to bed.

Knowing that you were thinking exactly what he wanted you to got him close, and he didn’t even have to pull up your old videos to get off.

Not tonight.

-----

Over the next few weeks. you’d texted a few times, Chris ‘made amends’ and you accepted his apology.

Then, you started texting more regularly, mainly joking around about sports, your Celtics/Rockets rivalry ever raging.

From your perspective, Chris was always appropriate and respected your relationship with Kevin. You were glad because you’d missed your friendship with him.

You felt giddy that your life was working out so well, and you traveled to your weekend getaway in the mountains for your bridal shower with a light heart.

Chris attended Kevin’s bachelor festivities with only a week to go until the wedding.

——

From Chris’s perspective, things were working out better than he’d hoped.

Scoring an invite to the wedding was more than he’d imagined, and Kevin inviting him out to his Bachelor party was just icing on the cake.

Maybe he could make Kevin slip up enough so that you would dump him before the wedding. Chris was hopeful.

If not, Plan B was the nuclear option.

-------

Kevin was following the stripper’s ass like a puppy. He was lit on booze and pills (that Chris provided) and his guard was down.

Kevin considered Chris a friend.

Chris just wanted to keep Kevin close because he was the enemy.

They were talking about you.

“She’s so fucking innocent. A sweeter angel there never was. I’ll have to teach her how to fuck.”

Chris almost choked on his water.

“I'm sorry. What now?”

Kevin just barreled on, ignoring the question.

“That's how I know I need to wife her.” He was talking to Chris, but still staring at the stripper.

“She would never chase the D. Hell, she won’t even touch mine. You know, her being celibate and all.”

Chris raised his eyebrow and smiled, which Kevin never noticed. Chris shook his head at your antics. His little beautiful love.

“That’s why I was never pressed that you are her ex. I mean, I’m impressed you were with her as long as you were.”

Chris just smiled and nodded, curious as to where this was leading.

“A man like you don’t have to put up with that. You must have punani lined up for days, bro.”

Chris’s heart lept. This dullard did not have access to your pussy. HIS pussy. Never has.

Chris could fuck a lot of people a million ways from Sunday with one text. Except for you. And you were all that mattered.

“I don’t know about all that.” Chris put on his best, ‘aw shucks’ act.

Chris was over the moon. You were still his. In every way.

Kevin kept tipping the stripper and was trying to call her over. He asked her about a private lap dance. Chris’s eyes lit up. This asshole was making it too easy.

The stripper nodded and went back to finish up her set. Chris walked over to the bar.

“Aye!” Chris summoned tha bartender over.

“What can I get you, Sir.”

“I don’t need a drink. I wanna take care of my friend over there. He’s gonna have a lap dance with Star. It’s his bachelor party. I need it to be extra special.”

Chris started peeling off hundreds so the barkeep could see.

“And I need him to have some keepsakes, so he’ll remember it always.”

More hundreds came off. The bartender’s eyes got bigger and bigger. “That’s no problem.”

Chris flashed his famous smile.

“Great, let me tell you where to send them. Wanna make them a wedding present.” He wrote down an address on a napkin.

He was now on Plan C. And it was perfect.

------

A week later and the rehearsal at the church was more fun than you thought it would be. You weren’t allowed to participate, just watch, as the result of an old wives tale.

The church secretary found you in the pews. She handed you a manila envelope.

“This was mailed here yesterday, probably an invoice of something for the wedding, I put it aside for you, sweetie.”

You smiled back at her and tucked it into your purse, not wanting to distract yourself with more wedding bills.

Later, when you and Kevin were in the back of the car to the restaurant for the Rehearsal Dinner, you pulled it out and opened it. You couldn’t believe your eyes.

“What the ENTIRE FUCK KEVIN!”

You threw the pictures of him fucking a stripper in his face, startling him out of staring at his phone.

He picked one up, his mouth dropped open and started talking.

“Look, Baby, Baby! I can explain!...”

“DO NOT FUCKING LIE TO ME KEVIN! WE HAVE OVER 300 PEOPLE HERE FOR OUR WEDDING TOMORROW MORNING.”

Kevin was on his knees in the back of the suburban.

“Listen to me.. Listen. I’m a man. I have needs…”

“Kevin, I swear to god….”

“Okay, okay… I admit it…”

You listened to him and your heart went silent. You couldn’t even absorb what he said.

When you pulled up to the restaurant, you straightened your dress and looked at him coolly.

“I am NOT going to deal with this tonight. Tonight was supposed to be a fun celebration of our wedding. I will decide later if it's still going to happen.”

Kevin was terrified.

“Right now, you and I will go into this place, greet our friends arm in arm and pretend that you are not a fucking narcissitic asshole who just ripped my heart to shreds. Got it?”

“Yes, but I-”

“Do NOT speak to me unless I speak to you first. Or it's automatically off.”

Kevin just nodded and cleared his throat.

You raised your chin and said, “Let’s go.”

-----

Two hours later, dinner was over, and you were lit on your way to TURNT.

Chris observed you, from the moment you entered holding hands with Kevin to the second you dropped his hand in disgust, to the way you held yourself away from him at dinner, but then put on a sweet face when everyone spoke, to Kevin, who was an absolute mess.

He figured you got the pictures. He suppressed the glee that was coursing through him.

But he couldn’t figure out why you were still going on with the charade.

Chris didn’t make a beeline for you like he wanted to, he just let the natural flow of the party lead you to him. He was talking to your cousin when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned around.

“Hey you.”

You cocked your head at him in that way and looked up at him, your smile brightening your face. Damn, he had to plant his feet. You smiling at him like that made him feel faint.

You both heard your cousin say something, but you didn’t pay attention, caught up in your own orbit.

“Hey.”

Chris crossed his arms, and you swore that he was recalling the time when you told him your forearms made you horny. Fuck. Chris made you wet and you were fresh out of fucks tonight.

“So, I can’t have a hug?”

Chris shook his head at your line and opened his arms to embrace you, keeping a respectable pressure and distance until you hugged him tight and pressed close.

He couldn’t help but pick you up, but he put you down immediately, cleared his throat and backed up, looking uncomfortable.

That wouldn’t do. You wanted more of his scent, his warmth, his HIM. You pouted unconsciously in your buzzed state.

Chris’s cock stirred. That fucking mouth had haunted his dreams for almost a year. He was pleased that you were flirting, but he had to work the plan. Couldn’t go too fast.

“You look… great. I can’t wait to see you tomorrow in your wedding dress. You will be a beautiful bride.”

Chris broke his voice in just the right place to convey a wistfulness, making you think that he thought he lost you.

You felt bad. Chris was so sweet. You thought about him and you thought about Kevin.

What was the difference between what Chris did and what Kevin did?

And who did you have more chemistry with? Chris.

Why were you even marrying Kevin?

You looked over at him looking at you and Chris like a lost dog.

You had no idea why you were marrying him.

“You look… Like Chris fucking Evans.” You two laughed.

“I bet you’re fighting them off with a stick.” You sideyed him.

Chris reveled in your interest in his sex life.

“Well, you know. After rehab, I’ve laid off the... physical part of my life. It only brought chaos, you know. I’m trying to be more… zen. Haven’t really had… that for the better part of a year.”

He watched your eyes get big.

“Word?” You smirked. “So you…”

Chris held up his hand. The one you knew he jacked off with. You grabbed it and started drawing on his palm. Chis pulled it back and cleared his throat again.

You pouted again. Him being hard to get made you wet.

And Chris knew that.

“So… you ready to marry the love of your life?”

Chris’s sea blues looked you deep into your cocoa browns. You were transported back in time.

“Yes.”

Then you snapped out of it.

“I mean… the church is set up, the dress is bought, everyone’s here. I guess so.”

Chris laughed as if you were telling a joke.

“I miss your sense of humor.”

You all made small talk and you caught up a little before you asked what you wanted to know.

“So what are you up to tonight?”

Chris looked at his watch.

“I’m actually about to go to my condo an turn in. I get up early to work out.” He felt your eyes sweep up and down his body, and he flexed even though he was fully dressed. It was true. Working out was a regimen. He wanted you drooling for him.

“It’s the Marvel condo in Brooklyn?”

You nodded, remembering good times.

“So you have a car picking you up?” Your mind was whirring.

“I actually have a rental.”

You gulped your drink down, not daring to look in his eyes. Now, not only was your pussy wet, your nipples were hard as hell.

“It’s in the parking garage down the block.”

“Well, I need to clear my head. I’ll walk you there, and you can drop me back?”

Chris looked down at your cute face, and then around the room, spotted Kevin and gave him a nod.

“You sure that’s a good idea?”

You looked at Kevin, too. You wanted to stick your tongue out, but you just took Chris by the arm and headed toward the door.

“I’m a big girl. Nobody owns me.”

You looked up into Chris’s eyes and instantly regretted that statement. You played it off and pulled him through the door.

You didn’t talk at all the entire way, both of your heads deep in the clouds of you and him. The chemistry was crackling the air between you.

You held on to his arm, and he let you, reveling in your touch.

When you reached the parking garage, Chris pressed the button with his knuckle and you got in, headed for the top deck.

You just stared at each other, both thinking the same thing. Chris chuckled.

“You’re dangerous, night before your wedding, you probably have cold feet, I’m here. Maybe you want to be sure that you’re sure…”

You cocked your head. “Who said I wanted to fuck you, Chris Evans?”

Chris cocked his head too, mirroring you. “Who said ‘fuck?’ I was thinking you wanted to talk.”

He smirked and you scowled as the door opened.

Chris left you in the elevator stewing as he walked over to the black Tesla he’d rented. There was no other car on the deck.

You scoffed, and followed him out.

He was about to walk around to the driver's side door when you grabbed his arm before he made it. He stopped directly in front of the car.

“Do you mean to tell me that you don’t want me?” You were hot, in more ways than one.

Chris leaned back against the hood.

“That’s not what we’re talking about, y/n. You’re getting married tomorrow. To someone else.”

You smiled and reached up, fingers grazing his neck and playing with the hair at his nape. You ran your fingers through his beard. Kevin’s couldn’t compare.

“That’s tomorrow. Tonight I’m single as fuck.”

You stood on your tip toes and brushed your lips against his, reveling in the moan that came from his throat.

Chris fought to control his urge and continued with his act. His fingers tightened around your waist and you thought this was it. He turned you around in front of the car and then let you go, stepping back to pace back and forth.

“What? What is this? You’ve had almost a year. Kevin’s my friend. What do you want from me?”

He advanced on you, and you had to remember to breathe. He knew what you wanted.

“You. I want you, Chris.”

Chris attacked your lips with his own. He took two seconds to savor them before he ravaged your mouth with his tongue. You moaned and he broke from your mouth to re-discover your face, your neck, your cleavage. He had to control himself not to rip the bodice of your blush pink chiffon dress.

He had a raging hard on, which you were feeling up, remembering how you always struggled to take him. You wanted him to hurt you with it now.

“Give me this Chris… please…”

You were reaching into his pants, thumb caressing his wet, thick tip. He was leaking for you.

“Remember when you told me that I would meet you in a parking lot, and let you fuck me over the hood of your rental car? Even if I was with someone else?”

You pulled your hand out and started sucking your thumb, closing your eyes at the taste of Chris after so long. You pulled it out with a pop.

“You were so right.”

Chris practically growled, grabbed your arm and spun you, pushing your back until your chest hit the hood of the Model X. He leaned over you, pushing his covered crotch into the back of your dress, you moaned, wanting more. His mouth was at your ear.

“Oh, so you want to be my cock whore on the eve of your wedding to someone else.” You moaned because it was true.

“It’s been so long, Chris…”

He reached down in between you and flipped the flouncy skirt of your dress up, exposing you to the wind of New York City. He looked at it for a minute, your ass always his favorite.

He caressed it with both hands, pressing into you with his thumbs.

“So you want me to feel you up?” He pulled his hand back and sucked one of them, practically jumping for joy when he tasted you.

“You want me to pull your panties to the side….” and he did so, seeing your slick shine in the moonlight, and playing in it for a minute, tracing your lips and making you quiver around nothing.

The way you were moaning his name was everything right now.

Your face was pressed against the cool metal of the car, and it was the only thing tying you to the earth.

“Oh yes, Chris…. Please please yesss...fuck me… damn...stretch me out…”

Chris’s dick pulsed and he needed you around him. He moved close again and unzipped his pants, the sound making your knees weak.

He teased your cunt with his tip, collecting your arousal and smearing it not only around your pussy, but around your asshole.

“I know you’ve fucked him, but have you let him have your ass? Am I still the only one…?”

Chris was still playing the game.

“No, no, no… I haven’t let him… I haven’t given him anything. I’ve been celibate, too. It’s still yours Chris. All of me is still yours.”

Chris almost came just hearing you say it out loud. He already knew, but hearing you say it was the shit.

He pushed into you with a grunt, and it was difficult. He didn’t make it. Your cunt squeezed him out.

“Ffffuck, y/n. You’re practically closed down. Is it true?”

He started rocking his tip into your pussy slowly, both regretting and reveling in the fact that he didn’t stretch you out with his fingers beforehand. Then he decided that he wanted you to feel this fully.

You couldn’t answer, only responding with moans has he painfully breached you. You welcomed it, though.

“Ah, ah, ah, ah… yes Chris. Only you.. Since you and I….” Talking about it and the fact that you were taking him again made you wetter, and eased Chris’s way, although your pussy was already stinging with his girth. Your eyes rolled back in your head.

You would never get over this and were so grateful for the feeling again.

Chris watched you and had to grit his teeth to hold back from the reality that he was taking you again.

He leaned over you, hot breath huffing in your ear, puffing and groaning as he fucked you slowly. He was trying to feel every sensation. He wanted you to know that each and every millimeter of your glorious wet, tight pussy was his.

‘Ohhhh. Fuck Chris… YESSSS!” Your voice echoed off the concrete walls, and Chris wanted you louder.

“This what you wanted? You wanted your thick cock inside you again. Hunh? You wanted me to stretch your walls and fuck you raw, hunh?” He started speeding up in time with your moans.

“Such a fucking filthy cockslut for me, baby.” Chris grabbed your neck from the back. “Why didn’t you let Kevin hit, hunh?”

You didn’t answer, you just moaned and Chris smacked your ass, hard.

“Chris! Fuck!”

You screamed. You missed his ruthlessness when you fucked, you missed him making sure that you knew that he knew that you knew. You belonged to him.

“Please!”

“I know why.”

Chris stopped fucking you and pressed down harder on your back, reaching around to find your clit. He swirled around it once, then started to press down slowly.

“Because you would never beg him for that subpar dick that he has. You’re MY whore. You belong to me.”

He pressed down roughly, and you detonated around his dick. He didn’t have to move. Chris pulled out, leaving you cold and bereft.

You turned around and leaned up against the hood, panting and still desperate for him. He stood there in front of you, dick sticking out of his pants, which were ruined, and still rock hard and ready. He was in a quiet rage.

“Why did you leave me?”

You searched his face. He sounded like he was about to cry. You couldn’t quite see his entire face, but his eyes shone, bright with liquid. You went toward him.

“You hurt me Chris. I couldn’t stay. But let me take care of you now.”

You got on your knees in front of him, the hard concrete of the parking structure digging into your knees.

Again, you welcomed the physical pain, distracting you from what you were doing to Kevin, to Chris, and to yourself.

Chris felt like he could fly. You on your knees for him again was a dream.

He took his cock in his hand, stroking it, while moving close to you. In no time, the back of your head was in his palm, and you opened wide to accept him, hand coming up to stroke what you couldn’t fit.

“Ah, ah. Let me.”

You looked up at him to see an evil grin shine down on you.

Chris looked down on an angel trying to swallow him whole. He brushed the tears away from your eyes as you struggled to breathe. You were perfection.

Moaning around him, you relaxed your mouth and throat and let him use you. It was difficult, because you were out of practice, but you welcomed the letting go of all thought.

You dripped down your thighs as Chris pumped into you, ready to accept what he had to give.

After a few minutes, he stopped, and pulled out, grabbing you up to your feet.

Then he bent down and grabbed you by the back of your thighs and you wrapped your legs around his waist, kissing him and trying to grind down on his still-erect cock as he backed you to the car.

Your ass hit the hood, and Chris reached between you to first tear your panties off. He put them in his pocket as he swiped his dick up and down your dripping wet folds.

He looked back up to watch your face as he pushed inside you, now, an easier path to nirvana.

He pulsed as he watched the pleasure take over your face, with your mouth slack and your eyes glassed over. This was his main purpose in life and he almost lost it.

He brought his hand up to bring you closer, breathed into your mouth as he squeezed your throat. You were high instantly, and clamped down on his cock as your body was wracked with waves of pleasure.

Chris let your body descend back down to the car as he pumped his seed into you, his mind fantasizing that he was impregnating you.

He shook your body as the last ropes of cum spurted out of him. He ran his hand down your body as he pulled out, zipping up his pants as you came back to your senses on the hood of the car.

You stared at the stars as you realized what you had done. You sat up and adjusted your dress, gingerly climbing back down to the ground.

Chris kissed you on the forehead, and this time you let him get into the driver’s seat. You got in the passenger side and Chris reached into the glovebox and handed you some wet wipes.

“Fix your face. And your knees.”

He nodded down to your legs, which were dirty from the parking structure floor. He watched you wipe your knees off, but stopped you as you went higher.

“No. I want you to feel me all night long.”

You wanted to be a brat, but you didn’t feel like sass right about now. You felt kinda terrible.

You got another wet wipe and fixed your makeup as best you could as Chris drove you back to the restaurant.

“Chris, I…”

“I know. None of that meant that we’re back together. That was for some kind of something, I dunno, something Kevin might have done?”

You looked down, ashamed. Chris lifted your chin up with his hand.

“I want you to come to me on your own. You’ve gotten that out of your system, and I’m glad to be of service.” You looked up into his eyes and at his wry smile.

“But remember, you still have a choice. I’m here if you choose me.”

He leaned over and gave you a tender kiss in front of the restaurant.

You smiled at him and climbed out of the car, watching as he drove off.

Chris’s heart was beating out of his chest as he watched you turn and go back inside. He fought the urge to turn around. It was better this way.

----

You walked in the restaurant, and pulled Kevin over to the side of the restaurant in dark alcove.

“Listen. Do you still want to marry me?”

He looked you up and down, taking in your state, from the faint marks on your neck to your scuffed knees. He knew exactly what was up.

You raised an eyebrow at him.

-----

Three hours later, a sleepy Chris answered the doorbell in Brooklyn.

He smiled at you, in the Captain America t-shirt and jeans that you’d stolen from him after a photoshoot, looking like his favorite Disney princess. You.

You took him in, clad in grey sweatpants that hung off his magnificently cut body. He blinked at you sleepily.

“The wedding is off. Chris, I….”

He reached out and grabbed you, pulling you in the brownstone and shutting the door behind you. He had you pinned up against the wall as you tried to speak.

“Shut up and let me taste you.”

You grinned and wrapped your legs around his waist as he carried you upstairs.

---

The next morning, Chris was on the phone with Scott.

“Yes, tell the workers at the warehouse to dump all the products….I don’t care, the river, the landfill…. Y/N can’t find out that I bought up all her stock…. We’re going to be married..... I know what the fuck I’m doing Scott. We leave for Aruba this afternoon. Listen, I’ll call you later.”

Chris hung up and turned to find you in the doorway, frowning and rubbing your eyes.

“We’re going to Aruba?”

You smiled and yawned, sleepily stretching. That was all that you’d heard of the conversation.

Chris gave you his stunner smile.

“Yes. It was going to be a surprise.”

He reached down and swung you up in his arms, carrying you into the bathroom bridal style.

“Now let’s get in the shower. You’ve been very naughty, gotta get you clean for your wedding day.”

You giggled as you relaxed in Chris’s arms. “It takes two to be naughty, Chris.”

He winked at you as he turned on the shower. “Don’t I know it.”

-----

I know it’s different. Let me know if you like it. Like, comment, reblog!

Tags:

@olyvoyl @summerofsnowflakes @sillyteecup @riiyy @honeysucklechocolatedrippin @theselilwonders @lonelydance @chattykathysquietsister @anh1020 @nissameta1782 @afriendlyblackhottie @betterkeepmewetterthanabayou @jbrizzywrites @stilltoyou @donutloverxo @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @kiwisa @food8me @aiikaa @marvelfansworld @london-grunge @pheebsyells @thesecretlifeofdaydreams-bl-blog @douxtille @ximaginexx @fofisstilinski @bertieandberries @ladystrawberry @bit-of-a-timelord @chesca-791 @calimoi @fangirlfree @bbaengtan @karolsboo @aliceforbes @insertpithyusername @sickknik @photmath @whorekneebrain @anacrcarvalho @iconicshit @spicybibimbap @chaoticsteverogers@txtsfromyourex @sadthotsonlylove @ikatieebabyy@nerdymugsharkempath @maroonsunrise83

#Chris Evans #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x black reader #soft dark! chris evans #chris evans smut #chris evans imagine #chris evans fan fiction #Chris Evans angst #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans reader insert #chris evans x you #chris evans x reader #Chris Evans 40th #chris evans birthday celebration 2021

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caspercryptid · 2 years

Note

hello! you're the coolest moth i know! as a counterpart to the viktor naph ferret slap bracelet fic would you be willing to write a fic where jayce gifts amaranthine squallet (squirrel wallet) for her birthday? in the same universe? i think she could use a new pencil case or something

Tws for more taxidermy but also animal death more generally. First part here

---

Dad is weird.

Amaranthine tells him that all the time, though she leaves off the dad. Well. Sometimes she does. Unless it’s funny. She plays innocent when he asks about it, though. Hm? What? I said bad. Idiot. She isn’t sure he believes her, but he seems to accept it.

It’s not that he isn’t her dad, now. Or at least in every way that matters. She’d been stranded in a strange limbo of network tv shows, shoved into the child-star spotlight doing roles she hated with every single fiber of her being, until she’d scored the role of Kid Assistant on Science Showcase With Jayce.

It wasn’t, objectively, a very good role. Her manager (for a bit there, her legal guardian), had wanted better for her. But it was something to do and Jayce apparently had some kind of influence. People kept asking him to be in bigger movies. He kept refusing,

So that’s one reason why Jayce is weird.

There are a lot more. Like the fact that Jayce had met her twice and been a complete asshole and then started asking her why she never went home. Why her parents never visited. He’d informed her, after he saw her manager yell at her, that he was going to make that stop. And then he did. He’d made it easy. She got to stay with him.

So she’d accept just about anything, because her dad was weird, but that was fine, because it meant that she had one. And he did care, she knew he did, even when he said absolutely stupid things. Or careless ones. Mostly when he got stressed. “Only idiots touch hot stoves” was a frequent contender. It made sense after a while, when he got mean it meant that he was worried, if he actually hurt her feelings she could just cry and he would usually find a way to apologize.

This is new, though.

“Hey, Jayce?” She says, looking into the box he’s just given her. It’s a very nice box. It was wrapped in shiny red paper and had a happy birthday tag on it in Jayce’s precise, curly handwriting.

“Yes?”

“What the fuck?”

“Language.” Jayce scolds. He actually looks a little hurt, which would be slightly more compelling, if the offending object in the box were not what looks to be the husk of a squirrel with a zipper down its back. She shakes it at him.

“You said I could only swear when it was appropriate. It’s appropriate. What is this.”

“It’s a pencil case.” He says, sounding mortally offended. “Or a wallet.”

“A-- squirrel wallet.”

“A squallet.”

Amaranthine does not ask if he is serious, because it’s pretty clear from his facial expression that he is, in fact, serious. She sighs and pulls her legs up onto the couch, setting the box aside and taking a second to unzip the squirrel. It was-- well, it was weird looking. But it was sanitary and clearly done by someone who knew what they were doing. Okay.

“Did you buy this?” she asks, keeping her tone neutral.

“No.” Jayce says, sitting down next to her. “I made it.”

She looks at him. “You... made it.”

Jayce nods, like this is completely normal, and she takes a second to squint at him to confirm that he is in fact still Jayce. Okay. Same silvery streaks in his hair. He’s still wearing slacks and a button down despite the fact that they’re going nowhere and doing nothing today, and the fact that it’s hotter than the ass end of mercury outside and he has to be frying.

She struggles for a way to make that make sense, to fit into the paradigm of Jayce remember-your-mace, and she stares up towards the fireplace of their grand stupid living room and... her eyes rest on the bright pink snake skeleton in a glass jar. He’d told her it was called a diaphonized snake. He’d looked weirdly fond. She’d never asked about it again.

“So are you into... this stuff?” She asks, using the squirrel to gesture at the jar of snake.

“Used to be.” Jayce looks a little sad. “Not that good at it. He was always better.”

“He?” Amaranthine prompts, even though she knows that’s pulling a pin on the grenade. A fucked up story was a much better birthday present than this stupid thing, anyway.

Not that she really needed a birthday present. Jayce bought or made her everything she wanted as soon as she so much as implied wanting it. It kind of made sense that her birthday would need to be something weird. She tugs a blanket around herself, because dammit the air conditioning is blasting to make up for jayce’s stupid habit of wearing layers indoors, and tucks against his side. He looks a little amused.

“Have you ever been in love?” He asks.

She blanches, and he laughs. “Yeah, I don’t recommend it. It sucks.”

“So you used to be into a guy who made... taxidermy?”

“It was a hobby.” He says. “We both liked... science. And sometimes science means gross stuff. Like learning about decay and preservation. It was just something we could both do. He was really into biology. I was... more into mechanics.”

“Mechanics?” She asks, looking slightly confused. “But most of your show stuff’s life science now.”

“Yeah.” He says. “--we kinda switched fields. He was into biology when he got really sick and then I think he realized that it wasn’t helping him at all. Nature wasn’t helping him. So he turned to technology and biotechnology, that kind of thing. I got more into the stuff I could teach people about. Physics and mechanics are fun, but they’re inaccessible. You can’t sell them.”

“Sell them?” Amaranthine asks, unimpressed. “I thought you were teaching.”

He snorts and tousles her hair. “It’s the same thing, kiddo. To get science to the general public, you have to con some suckers into thinking they’re interested in things that they don’t care about. Sometimes that means putting on a show, smiling really big, and lying. A whole lot.”

“Lying?”

“Life science is bullshit. Everything that isn’t numbers is fake. Fish aren’t real. You wanna go get ice cream?”

“...sure.” she says. “Let's go get ice cream.”

Maybe some questions were better left unanswered.

#amaranthine league of legends #jayce giopara #jayce talis #it is him in there somewhere #casper's haunted fic tag #implied jayvik

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awakeshedreams · 3 years

Text

sugar and spice ( 2 )

pairing : resident bad boy!jjk x model student!reader

setting : highschool!au x stepbrother!au

summary :

a messy highschool!au x stepbrother!au where model student reader who has quite a few dirty little secrets sees her world take an unexpected turn when her mother comes home one day with an engagement announcement, to the father of none other than the school’s resident bad boy…. Jeon Jungkook.

genre : smut, for laughs, kinda pornish, slow burn with collosaly overwhelming sexual tension

rating: soft m ( for now ) due to adult content

warnings : unconventional relationship of sexual nature, tropes and clichès, teenagers partaking in porn-esque activities, made up things with made up people happening in a made up world, don’t like don’t read XD

wordcount : 3k

a/n: honestly overwhelming response for the first part. thank you so much 💜💜💜😳

here's the second.

somehow, this took up a new genre for itself while editing and became sort of a bit enemies to friends to partners in sin.

that is to say, I have a template for this but this could go any ( dirty ) way.

let me know if you like this and are curious to know how things play out.

also, spot the cameo. it's so dumb but still. I couldn't think of anything else.

enjoy.

1 2

Paranoia was an old friend of yours.

Very real, very scary and not very nice to you, your peace of mind or your tested soul.

In your head, you already played out a million different ways the image you’d spent years building could come falling apart.

All because of him. Jeon Jungkook.

Though much to your surprise and fortune- he didn’t tell anyone.

You spent the entire weekend fretting over nothing.

It was almost like none of it ever happened.

Like your parents weren't about to tie the knot soon. Like you weren’t about to become step siblings.

Like he didn't walk in on his said step sister to be masturbating in front of a camera.

In the aftermath of that inexplicably humiliating incident, you had to make up some dumb excuse to satiate your viewers for ending the stream so abruptly.

It was your cat they heard speaking, you told them.

Cats don’t speak of course, certainly not in a deep baritone. But they were effectively distracted by the string of full nudes you posted soon after that.

Those few accusatory comments saying that you did have a boyfriend after all were buried by those coming from very horny people who were over the moon about the little apology gift.

That was out of the way, but you had a more pressing matter at hand.

That night, Jungkook had walked out after saying what he had to say without another word, leaving you feeling stunned and oddly cold.

It was like all the heat in your body just ceased to exist the moment he closed the door behind him and left you there all on your own. You didn’t even get to finish but that was beside the point.

The point was, you thought that meant like with many other things, and as people should since this was a free world, he didn’t give a shit what you did with your free time or your body.

But as the days progressed, you couldn’t help but wonder if you were gravely mistaken.

Because contrary to that, he seemed to be up to something.

These days, he came around very often. Completely unprovoked and on his own accord.

It didn’t help that your mom loved having him around and feeding him.

Sometimes he was there for lunch after school. Other times he was there to fucking read the books in the study.

It was all ridiculous and quite honestly it was starting to get on your fraying nerves.

He didn’t even live there! You grumbled in pure frustration internally every time your mom asked you to add an extra plate for him on the dining table. This was your place!

Intentional or not he seemed to just love spending his time at your house for some reason.

But that just wouldn’t do.

The thing was you didn't know how to tell him you’d like to have the peace of mind he’d robbed you of by being all up in your living space every other day back.

He couldn’t just keep coming around.

Things were awkward enough without you having to see him often so already in between fleeting glimpses at school and lingering glances over the occasional dinner.

He might have been able to play it cool because it didn’t matter to him but this was a big deal for you.

He knew your secret and what else were you to do but be on edge and fidgety around him even though it seemed like he wouldn’t say a word of it?

But in the end, you couldn’t voice out your concerns. Not to him and certainly not to your mom.

So you were stuck here.

In between a massive rock and a very hard place.

Forced to endure even though you really felt like you’d been pushed past your limit.

Because he was there all the time.

For the most random reasons doing the most random things at the most random places at the most random time.

One time he had been casually listening to music while smoking by the pool and stroking the strings of his damned, matte black guitar.

You had been so stressed from all the work at school with the elections for new committee members amongst the juniors coming up so you thought to go for a swim to relax your self.

You honestly thought no one was around.

It was a Wednesday at noon so your mother was at lunch with some friends from high school. Plus, in the back of your mind, you’d reasoned that Jungkook usually only ever came over when she was around.

So you put on your best little bikini, grabbed a floatie and a soft drink and you went out.

Only to pause when you saw him sitting on one of the white lounging chairs, just looking at you with his earphones on, fingers having stilled mid strumming with a soft veil of smoke over his face.

You didn’t need to think twice to turn back.

There had been something about how his heavy lidded gaze took you in through the smoke as he did that thing where he cocked his head to the side that made you step back and quickly go back in.

You felt yourself get impossibly hotter when you realized you were probably giving him an eyeful of your poorly covered ass in motion.

You knew he was looking. You could feel his stare. Heavy. Intent. Dark. Swirling.

Like when he'd walked in on you.

You were hot and bothered the entire day.

In the end you couldn’t get anything productive done with a straight mind. And it was all his fault.

It took you about two weeks to crack.

That particular evening you were decided on telling your mom about this dilemma you were in.

Coincidentally, your mom had gone and invited him and his dad over for dinner.

Great. Just great.

You had no choice but to deeply consider the possibility of having to spill the beans another time.

Because choosing now to tell your mom meant you would probably need to tell his dad as well since they were attached at the hip every time he came over.

But no, you wouldn’t expose him in front of his father too. You weren’t cruel. Also you didn’t need the school's menace resenting you for making his strict, uptight dad turn on him.

If he didn’t have a reason to expose you before, he certainly would have one if things spiraled out that way.

So you bit your bitter tongue.

This time around, dinner was a more relaxed affair.

The weather was nice so your mom decided on a barbeque at your back yard.

This meant you wore a flowy sun dress like your mom did and he wore a loose navy shirt with the sleeves rolled up and some black casual beach shorts.

His tattoos were on full display.

You stared.

You were only distracted by them and how the patterns dance on his skin when his muscles flex as he flips whatever he is cooking on the fire because she’s never seen them in full before, you strongly reasoned.

Even with his sleeves rolled up when he was uniform, you'd only seen what he had on his forearm briefly other than the ones on the back of his hand.

That night didn’t count. It was too dim to see well. Also, that night technically didn’t exist.

Your eyes were particularly drawn to the little something peeking out the collar of his shirt.

You were too busy trying to figure out whether the curling ink around his collar bone was the flick of flames or the end of a dragon’s tail to notice that he’d lifted the hem of his shirt to wipe at the dots of sweet at his brows.

When you do, you suddenly found yourself being given an eyeful of impossibly ripped, ridged pure muscle.

You almost dropped your glass like you did your jaw.

What the holy fuck?

At that exact moment, he lifted his gaze and caught you staring.

He was probably expecting you to look away. Any decent human would expect that if they caught someone staring at them so openly. Gawking, to be completely honest.

But you didn’t. You quickly recover, pulling yourself together, and you met his gaze squarely.

You clutched the drink in your hand tight. Your pride wouldn’t let you look away.

In your own way, it was your little pay back, weak as it was.

He held your gaze with an unreadable look on his face for a moment with that signature slight tilt to his head and an added lift to his brow, before he looked away. Wordlessly, he let his shirt fall to push his hair back with his hand and went back to grilling.

You let herself breath then and tried not to think about how his biceps flexed at the motion, how his hair slicked back made him look even more dangerous and how the little smirk you caught on his lips was making you feel things she shouldn’t be.

Your mom suggested you all hang out at the pool once you were done eating.

You hadn’t been there since that day with him and quite frankly, you would rather not be.

Not with him.

You knew your mom had a swimsuit underneath her dress. She made you wear one as well.

She probably told them to come prepared for a swim too.

Just thinking about it made you short circuit.

You tore your gaze away from where he was standing with his father at the poolside, staring blankly at the surface as the older man talked to him about something.

You'd just come back from clearing the table with your mom.

When you guys got close enough, the men look your way. Jungkook’s eyes immediately landed on you. Meanwhile you just stare at your mom, trying to ignore his inexplicably fixed attention on you.

‘It’s shame we can’t swim.’

Your mother said, reaching for her boyfriend’s hand. She gave Jungkook a soft, apologetic smile.

‘Maybe once the weather is not so chilly.’ She sighed regretfully. ‘If I had known you were sensitive to the cold I would have suggested something else.’

‘It’s fine.’ Your eyes flicker to him. The smile he puts on is small and polite. ‘I’m not a very good swimmer anyway I’m afraid.’

‘Nonsense.’ She dismissed in good nature. ‘I heard you were quite the athlete in middle school. It’s all your father ever talks about sometimes. Right, honey?'

His father just grumbled.

You couldn’t hide your surprise at this revelation. You didn’t know this before.

Jungkook was quiet for a moment. Then he smiles a little with a shrug.

‘That was in the past.’

Your eyes just glided to him when he said that.

The tug at his lip looked wry and sad.

You’d never seen him like this before.

Solemn. Sombre. Not serious or intimidating or indifferent.

It felt like you were viewing him in a new light.

You settled on drinks by the pool. It was what your mom does to lighten things up.

It seemed like the gloom from earlier wasn’t all part just a part of your imagination.

Her mother suddenly chirped in between the light conversation.

'Why don't you guys get together and have a little group study?'

You suppressed the urge to groan and roll your eyes to the back of your head. You knew what she was trying to do and you wanted no part in it.

You had the words no way sitting at the tip of you tongue.

He beat you to it.

'That sounds nice,' he dared to say, even politely addressing your mom with Mrs. alongside her surname in the end uttered just the way she liked. 'I'd like that.’

You gawked at him in disbelief. Complete and utterly speechless.

Was he insane ??

'Doesn't it? Great!' Your mom is over the moon. 'Dear, take him to the study. You guys can do your teenager things and get along over books there.'

Your mom was loving and caring and she only ever wanted the best for you. You knew this.

Maybe she wanted them to get to know each other. Or maybe she just wanted to have some alone time with her man.

Either way, she practically shoved you two into the house with so much enthusiasm you wondered if she really loved you because suddenly you found yourself stuck inside your house with the last person you wanted to be with and you did not feel safe or rested.

The walk up the spirally stairs to the study had got to be one of the most intense, dragging moments of your whole life.

He remained a few steps behind you all through out the journey, following your lead in his own leisured pace.

A few steps too damn far behind in your opinion.

From that angle, you had a strong inkling that he could see your underwear from beneath your dress.

You knew this because you were familiar with what it felt like when he was staring.

What you couldn’t quite explain is why you didn't do a thing about it.

If awkward silence could manifest into a solid form for being so intense, there would have been a third occupant in the room the moment you two walked into the study.

It would’ve been so massive, all the high shelves and wooden tables lined up would have been demolished.

Jungkook remained the quiet person he was, looking around and skimming through the books on the shelves.

You were standing a safe distance away from him, absently doing the same. The books were interesting and all but you were admittedly more taken by the ink on his skin.

Up close you could clearly see the artistic patterns and symbols etched onto him.

While staring at the tats on his knuckles you couldn't help but also notice that the titles he picked up were rather complex.

Certainly not the kind of thing even high intellects reached for. Evidently, those tomes had been collecting dust in there for ages.

You were decidedly curious. Itching to ask. Hell, dying to know.

You dived before you could overthink it and find reasons not to satiate your rabid curiosity.

'You like Reader?' he paused and looked at you from the corner of his eyes. At his questioning look she gesture to the book he was holding. 'That's the third book of theirs you picked up.'

'Yeah.' he said casually, nodding a little while flipping through it. 'Their books are nice.'

A crippling lapse of silence ensues.

You tore your gaze away from his profile to stare at the titles in front of you with a burn at your cheeks, fiddling with the polished spines.

How fucking awkward. All of this.

He probably felt the same.

What were you even doing?

You thought about telling him to ignore your mom’s attempt at trying to make the two of you get along. He obviously wasn’t looking for company or a friend. Quite frankly, neither were you. Certainly not from him. You were just trying to be not rude. Something you aren’t really surprised he probably failed to understand in all honesty.

But then he spoke, dragging you out of your reverie.

'What about you?'

Your head shot up and you found that he was standing a lot closer than before, having moved to reach for yet another complicated book to idly browse through at the top shelf.

This close, you could can smell him. Soft mint and clean soap and moonlight, not smoke. He disregarded the pages in his hands to give you a side way glance.

‘What do you like?’

There was a perpetual spark swimming in the dark depth of his eyes. It was striking. Pretty even.

When he lightly raised a brow at you, your thoughts jumbled all over before it fell back into place and you realized you were staring very openly.

But this time was different from the last time. When he had been miles away, flashing you his ripped abs.

In your reverie, you hadn’t notices that he had leaned a little to meet your eyes, and that he was real close. Like real close, looking at you intently with his head cocked to the side questioningly, like he was wondering what was going on inside your head. You could feel his breath fanning your face.

Shit.

'Uh,’ you scrambled for an answer, quickly tearing your gaze away from him to appraise the bookshelf. Your face felt like it was on fire. Considering how he hadn’t moved, he could probably see just how blazed in the face you were. Out of pure instinct, you grabbed a random book and shoved it into him to make some space in between your bodies.

Maybe with a little too much force. There was a dull thump and it made you wince.

'This.’

You hated how squeaky and breathless you sounded. Like you’d just ran a marathon. Might as well have, with how hard and fast your heart was pounding.

Jungkook took it from you, and you allowed yourself to look at him as he looked the cover over, completely fine, like you hadn’t just smacked him in the chest with a book.

The corner of his lips lifted a little as he flipped it over, cocking his head the other way before he chanced you a glance, making you blink rapidly and stand on edge.

'You sure?' he asked, sounding pretty amused. You were confused for a moment until he held it up for you to see, flashing you a full on toothy grin like you’d never seen on him before. 'You like books about horse gentilia?'

The jump in your chest was something you quickly dismissed as being one of sinking dread rather than anything else.

All the color that had been congesting your face washed away.

If there was a time you truly wished the ground would swallow your entire existence whole, it would be right then and there.

word is telling me I made up the word genitilia but I’m pretty sure it’s real because it just rolls off the tongue ( smooth ) like butter like a criminal under the cover.

the hole is one of the recurring characters so please be nice to it.

alot of things happening here if you squint and look closely.

any-whomst've, hope you all liked it. let me know if you did and I don't know come say hi? 😳 have a nice day 💜

#bangtan #bts #bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts imagines #bts scenario #jeon jungkook #jungkook scenario #jungkook imagine #jungkook smut #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #bts high school au #jungkook high school au #bts au #jungkook au

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