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taintedcigs · 4 months

Text

— cowboy hat rule.

pairing: cowboy!steve harrington x fem!reader

warnings: smut, p in v, MINORS DNI!!!!, pet names, praising, kinda degrading but not really, a lil argument, dom!steve, rivals to fcking, swearing, good old bj for our good boy stevie! reader has a nickname 'sunshine' bc i didn't wanna do y/n sorry:(

summary: helping out mr. harrington in his ranch was supposed to be fun, but steve harrington was an asshole. an absolute pain in your ass that teased you, and you gave him the same energy back, always. so when you unknowingly wear his cowboy hat, he decides to teach you what exactly the cowboy hat rule is. (wc: 5k+)

author's note: this is just horny babbling. i have no idea how cowboy lore works so if im wrong pls just close ur eyes i tried to research but i couldnt find shit just pls i just want cowboy steve dick. and ofc no proof-reading bc im lazy as hell. no dividers ugly aesthetic bc of tumblrs f ass not showing my shit in tags SIGH.

also PLSSS LIKE + REBLOG + COMMENT TO SUPPORT ME MWAH ILY

When you told Mr. Harrington you’d be more than happy to help around his Ranch during the summer, you didn’t expect Steve to become a problem, but you were wrong, so fucking wrong.

A cocky cowboy who’s way too into partying and into his looks and his fluffy hair than you could ever imagine. That’s exactly how you’d describe Steve Harrington. Even though you so badly wanted to believe otherwise, wanted to disregard the rumors and the reputation that came with him. But, he made it so goddamn hard.

All he fucking did was tease you, complain. Order you around and act like you didn’t know how to do shit. And, you didn’t, but he was supposed to be your guidance, teach you. But all he did was grumble and give you that goddamned smirk.

Yet, you couldn’t fully hate him, there was a side of him he rarely showed you, one that cared, one that offered you rides—it was more of a mumble each night but you accepted nonetheless, one that ended up at your side whenever an asswipe bothered you at the bar, one that offered you a hand on your back when you were crying, he didn’t ask what happened, didn’t speak, just stood there, letting you spill out your guts. The two of you never spoke about these incidents, ever, because he acted like they didn’t exist, like he couldn’t bear the thought of being nice to you.

You were so fascinated by him, even though you’d never admit it out loud. He was charismatic, outright funny, and had a heart of gold that you only peered one layer of.

And fuck it, he was fine, annoyingly good-looking that he was a distraction to be around when you were supposed to be working, him with those sturdy denim jeans that cupped his ass perfectly, wide-brimmed cowboy hat with a creased crown, put perfectly on his head. Even though you’d much rather see his pretty hair falling on his face, run your hands through his smooth layers.

Usually, when it got as hot as it did today, he’d even take off that stupid shirt, feast your eyes with his glimmering chest, all hairy and glistening with sweat, broad shoulders as he ordered everyone around made you gulp. Like he is doing with you, right fucking now.

“Sunshine, get back to work.” Heat travels to your cheeks quickly, and that stupid nickname rolls off his lips so bitterly, the one he always called you just because you were all nice and smiley—even when he was being an asshole to you, something that grinded his gears, you guessed it was a foreign concept to him, being nice.

You were quick to shake off the hold he had on you, getting back on your feet as you stood your ground. “I am working! Just needed a second to breathe!” The lies rolled off your lips so simply that you wondered if he caught you staring. When he turned around to leave, you guessed he hadn’t.

“Asshole.” The insult leaves you before you can register how close Steve still was to you.

Turning head-spinningly fast. “What did ya say?” He spits, making you gulp physically.

He looks out of the world stunning when he’s mad, maybe it’s a toxic trait of yours but, fuck, the way his chocolate hues turn unrecognizable, that slight quirk of his brows, and the way his muscles flex in pure anger made you rub your thighs together.

Jesus Christ. He is getting into your head, and you hate that you think of him this way when he is so mean.

“Nothing! I’m just saying it’s really hot out today,” you hum, the sun rays hitting your face not making it easier on the heat that flame your cheeks.

He gives you a snort, all mocking once he takes a step closer, making you feel hotter if that is possible. “Well that’s what happens in the summer, darlin’”

Hand on the wall he tilts his head slightly, all with sass that has you rolling your eyes. “Or did you expect the weather to give Miss Sunshine some sorta special treatment?”

You roll your eyes, an act you always did that makes Steve’s jaw clench. “Oh, come on Steve! It’s really, really, hot, and the sun is all on my face!”

“Boo-hoo, princess,” he mocks, tipping his hat, almost as if to tease you further.

You scoff, getting closer to him. “Easy for you to just stand around in that big hat!” With a narrowed gaze, you cross your arms against your chest, like a brat, another trait that annoyed Steve even further.

Then, you beam again, and Steve knows no matter how much you hate it, Sunshine is absolutely the nickname you deserve, eyes glistening with happiness that it annoyingly even brings a glint to his pretty amber hues. His gaze unintentionally droops down to tour lips, so plushy and soft looking when it curls into that pretty smile that Steve wants to kiss you all over.

“Oh! Do you mind if I?” You ask all giggly, pointing toward his wide-brimmed hat, hand teasingly standing above his head.

He scoffs as if you had just asked him the most insulting question ever. “Not a chance,” he spits, now he crosses his arms in front of his chest, eyeing you with a dark glint in his eyes, one you couldn’t decide was full of annoyance or just pure desire.

“Mhmmm… okay,” you hum, feigning innocence for a second, before snatching it off his head with another hearty giggle.

Oh, what he would do to hear that on a loop, admire the way your lips stretched into the prettiest grin, brows quirked.

“Sunshine!” He chides, much rougher than he intends to, but you don’t pay attention to him when you place the hat carefully on your head, smoothing your hair.

You shrug, looking up at him with those doe eyes that have him melting, everytime, without fail. “Admit it, looks better on me.” You shrug, expecting him to agree.

Instead, he just offers you a deep sigh of breath, eyes almost widening when he realises what you just did. “Do you even—”

He huffs, hiding the obvious pink shade thats starting to color his cheeks, you really had no idea the hold you had on him, did you? “God, you city girls have no idea about anything, huh?”

Your brows furrow. “What?”

“Cowboy hat rule?” He asks with a tilt of his head, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest.

A teasing smile curves on your plushy lips as you push for more information. “What’s that?”

“Just give me the hat back,” he insists, attempting to mask the warmth that crept into his tone.

With a shake of your head, your defiance only grows, a glint of mischief dancing in your gaze. “Not until you tell me the rules.”

“Sunshine,” he warns, voice so grumbly that heat travels all over your body quicker than the sun burning you.

“Steve?” You hum with a flirty gaze, so teasing that Steve wants to fuck you right then and there, until he teaches you proper manners, until he shows you not to be a total fucking brat and not to roll your eyes at him, until he shows you that you’re his.

But, of course, he settles on a low grumble of, “You’re annoying.”

“You used to be more creative with the insults, Harrington.” Another teasing remark, and Steve rolls his tongue inside of his mouth.

With a smirk, he takes another step toward you, when your back hit the walls of the barn, only then you realise, he has you cornered. “You wanna know the cowboy hat rule, princess?” He asks all smugly.

Gaze meaner than he is, chest almost pressed against yours, voice so low that all you can do is slightly nod.

Your breath gets hitched in your throat when his face is mere inches away from yours, hot breath fanning against your cheeks, skin heating on the impact, that brattiness you wear as a mask quick to slip off when he’s all demanding. “You wear the hat, you ride the cowboy.” His tone is almost a growl, pupils blown wide, making you gulp, physically.

“What?” You blink, unsure of what he’s actually asking. Excitement jumping around in your tummy.

“You heard me. Wanna take me for a ride, Sunshine?” He is so goddamn close that you are sure he can hear the annoying tumble your heart does at the weight of what his words hold.

It makes you pause, gaze sticking on his, sometimes slipping away to his soft lips, almost to signal him of something, but all you can do is try to hide the embarrassment that burns your cheeks.

“Didn’t think so,” he scoffs, backing away just slightly.

His cowboy hat is too big on your head, tipping low over your eyes, possibly hiding your nervousness as you mutter, “What if I do?”

With a smooth motion, he flips it off from your head, holding it with his palm, away from you. “Get back to work, Sunshine.”

“I’m serious—”

“So am I, those horses ain’t gonna straddle their strap themselves, off. to. work,” he hisses, turning to leave.

You huff, heat still burning off your cheeks, more embarrassed than annoyed, yet you still don’t have it in yourself to let it go, you can’t let him have this. Win this.

Quick to snatch the hat back, “So the hat rule is, wear the cowboy hat, ride the cowboy, huh?” You mumble behind him, your voice failing you, yet you appear to be giggly, and Steve heaves a deep sigh of breath, before fully turning to you.

He halts a bit when he sees you once again, in his hat, tipped low, that stupidly addicting smirk gracing your slightly-open lips, hand on your hips, and all he wants to do is fuck you till you lose that attitude of yours.

“Stop,” he warns, taking a step closer to you but with a shake of your head you back away, and he sighs, loud and annoyed.

“Gimme that, sunshine!”

“Nuh-uh.” All teasing and bratty, and grating on Steve’s last nerve. You know this, yet you wanna keep pushing him, further and further, until he snaps, until he can’t take it anymore. You have no reason to do this, you’re supposed to hate him, think of him as an annoying asshole.

But the two of you are finally tethering on that line, the line between purely teasing each other out of spite, to teasing each other out of flirting, you know that, and you don’t wanna take a step back. “Prove it.”

You are all up in his face, and all he can do his roll his eyes, cheeks beetle red, frustration worn on his face. “Knock it off.”

You tut gently, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “Not until you—” Your words are interrupted quickly when he snatches up the hat from your head in annoyance, making you gasp when he discarded it easily.

“Get back to work!” His voice raises, and it makes you take a deep breath.

Shit, did you fuck this up?

“What?” You question, entire body feeling dizzy. He takes a step closer.

“You heard me.”

Another step closer, his breaths come out in short gasps, frustration taking over him. “Get back to fuckin’ work, before I can’t stop myself.”

He is close. Too fucking close, and you can’t help the way your gaze droops down to his soft lips, slightly parted open, downturned from frustration. God, you realize how hot he is when he is angry, once again. “F—from what?”

He hesitates, before licking his lips. This is it. He wants, no, he desperately needs you. Needs to put you to your place. Teach you what happens to bratty girls like you. Show you what exactly the stupid rule is. “From fucking you in this goddamn barn.”

You release the breath you’ve been holding back, feeling small, so small under his gaze. Mouth hanging open, and all you want is him to pin you against the wall, have you screaming out his name. “From making sure I show you how the goddamn cowboy hat rule works.”

Your back is plastered against the wall, his hands are by your side, you are caged beneath him, chest rising in anticipation. “Is that what you want, honey, think you can handle all of that?” He’s so smug, and you don’t know what overtakes you when he’s all in control like this, you wanna obey him, make him happy, proud, so you bite back on your insults.

His smirk is dangerously alluring, and you’re under his spell.

“Please,” you beg, heat finds your cheeks again, you hate the hold he has on you.

He barks out a chuckle, so mean, yet as equally hot. “Please, what? Speak up,” he spits, rolling his tongue inside of the roof of his mouth, lips wearing a smirk.

“Ruin me,” your voice is small, meek, yet it makes him groan.

You’re such a good girl for him, and he wants nothing more than to ruin you. Fully. Completely. Ruin you for every other man.

His head ducks down to your neck, leaving a sloppy kiss before leaning into your ear, his breath hot on your neck, leaving goosebumps in its wake. “Goddamit darlin’, you gonna be the death of me, huh?”

You don’t—you can’t answer, you’re speechless, rubbing your thighs together desperately, seeking some friction, a touch, anything.

He levels with you again, dangerous gaze on your lips, fingertips brushing against your cheeks teasingly “You know what I always wanted to do, sunshine?” He coarses lowly.

“W—what?” You ask with a gulp, lips twitching with need.

He gives you another grin, that asshole. The pad of his thumb slowly caressing your lips now, making you shiver with hunger. “Always wanted to put you to your place, you and that damn smart mouth, always runnin’ it for no good reason. I’d give you a good reason for those pretty lips, huh? Use it the way I wanna use it, fill it the way I wanna feel it,” he grunts like he said the most normal thing, yet you’re already squirming, wanting to open your lips, take his fingers in your mouth and suck on them, show him how much of a good girl you can be for him.

He has you on such a hold already, and you can’t complain. For someone who seemed to be annoyed—hell, even hated him a few minutes ago, you feel crazy, batshit insane, all you want is him.

His fingertips play with your lips all teasingly, pupils blown wide, the other hand caresses your hair so possessively that you melt into his touch. “You gonna be good for me sweet thing?”

He doesn’t have to ask you twice. “Y—yes, sir.”

Sir.

Godfuckingdammit. You don’t know the hold you have on him, do you?

He bites back on the moan that rumbles in his throat, instead settling on a, “Good girl.” Your puppy dog eyes glint at the praise, and he makes a mental note of it. .

“Get on your knees f’me, darlin’,” he grumbles, and you’re quick to obey, not minding the uncomfortable feeling of the wooden floors scraping your knees, or the fact that anyone might’ve walked in, the door was locked, and there was probably no one around yet Mr. Harrington might’ve returned to the ranch at any moment. But he made you feel safe, somehow.

You look up at him with those doe-eyes again, making him suck in a breath before he unbuttons his jeans and pushes them off his hips, boxers so tight around his hard cock that he grunts involuntarily.

Your eyes go wide the second his erection springs free, almost hitting the tip of your nose, red, angry and leaking with pre-cum, he lets out a chuckle at your expression before grabbing the base of his cock.

Same eyes, looking up at him all hungrily, Steve feels the way blood rushes quickly to his cock, making him harder if that's even possible, with a groan he runs the leaking tip across your lips. “Open up.”

Your hand replaces his quickly, and he runs his fingers through several strands of your hair, teaching you how exactly he wants you.

You open your mouth wide, just like he likes it, tongue giving his slit kitten licks, moaning at the taste of his salty pre-cum, wrapping your plushy lips around his thick head, and sucking the life out of him, determined, and feigning innocence with the soft gaze you held.

Head thrown back, heavy boots planted on the harsh ground, he lets out a low groan, stroking your hair all softly. “Look at you s’pretty like this for me.”

His hand wraps tighter around your hair, pushing you onto him, making sure you gag a little and that only spurs you on, making you whine around his cock, the sound reverberating through his chest. “Cat got your tongue, darlin’?” He chuckles all meanly.

“God, do you have any idea how many times I wanted to shut up that bratty mouth like this?” He asks with grunts leaving his open mouth, hand working harshly around your head, mouth feeling like heaven the more you bob around his thick length, struggling to take all of him.

“Those pretty lips are—mmpf, shit—better stuffed with my cock than being a spoiled lil’ city girl runnin’ her mouth, ain’t that right, baby?” You nod meekly, angelic eyes seeking for his validation before you flatten your tongue around the sensitive part of his tip, struggling to take all of him in your mouth. Earning guttural moans, eyes squeezed shut as he feels your soft lips wrapped around him again.

“Fuck, sweet thing.” You can feel his filthy grunts straight in your core, all low and lewd that you almost moan around him again, he puts one hand on the wall, helping himself to better move in and out of your throat.

He knows if you keep this up, he’ll cum right and there, and fuck, he needs that. But he needs to be inside of you more.

You keep up your stroking, now adjusting yourself properly to start licking and sucking on his balls. “Sunshine, you need to s—stop,” the words barely leave his lips, he so doesn’t want you to stop. But, he needs to cum inside of you.

Yet, you don’t listen to him as your movement speeds up, determined to feel his load warming your throat, make him proud, and your mouth bobs harder around his length, making him growl at you harshly. “Sunshine,” he warns, pulling you by your hair.

You’re quick to take a deep breath of air once he pulls you off, looking up at him with the perfect innocent eyes, your lips wearing the prettiest pout. “Was that not good for you, Stevie?”

Stevie. That nickname makes his head spin faster, all he wants to do is fuck you against those stupid rustic walls, have you screaming out for him, the whole ranch filled with your filthy noises, no one was around anyway.

“You kiddin’, sweetheart?” He gives you a chuckle, wrapping his hands around your jaw, pulling you off the floor.

“You were fuckin’ amazing,” he hums, leaning down to kiss you, tasing the salty semen on your tongue.

His hands are quick to travel along to your waist, fingertips finding their way onto your panties rather quickly, earning a gasp out of you. “Need to be in here first, honey.”

You nod, so quickly that you can feel him grinning into the kiss, his hands are everywhere, yours are more or less the same, quick to get rid of his top, to feel his toned chest in your soft hands, your top is sprawled right next to his, revealing your pink and gold bra at him, breasts peeking out just enough to have him groan, big hands quick to get rid of them.

He has you caged against the amber walls, back hitting the rough material, making you hiss. Your skin heats at the impact, it’s filthy, lewd, and so public, but none of you even care enough to break the kiss. He settles between your thighs, his pants drooped to his ankles, hands rubbing across your skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

The sight of you so easily submitting to him, makes his cock grow harder than he thought was possible, looking so ethereal that Steve forgets all about everything else. “Sunshine,” he breathes, hands fiddling with the hem of your panties.

“Mhmm,” is all you can muster, legs slightly open for him, and he almost feels possessive over you, it’s entirely stupid, but he looks so fucking alluring with those dark chestnut eyes, layered hair a mess, and cock weeping entirely with the thought of you.

His thumb runs over the seam of your pussy, just a glimpse of how his fingers are going to ruin you, and you pulse and clench against him already. Wet. Drenched. And all ready to take him. “You’re soaked,” he groans.

Leaning further into your ear, “is that all for me, honey?” he rasps, desperate, needing your confirmation.

Heat grows in your cheeks faster than a scorching day in July, and he grins, again, all cocky and proud. “Yes,” you admit meekly, and Steve’s quick to kiss your worries away.

“God, you’re so fuckin’ pretty like this,” he growls, swirling your wetness up and around your slit, almost toying with you, having you desperately mewl for him.

He can’t put his finger on it, what it is that draws him this much into you, but he’s hooked, so goddamn obsessed that he feels like an idiot, for being this much of an asshole, for acting like a grade school boy who’s pulling the pigtails of his crush. Like a stupid cliche.

“Stevie.” That nickname, again. Godfuckingdammit, Steve thinks. You have him so wrapped around your finger, it’s like a prayer, and he’s sure you’re not aware of it. And it drives him even crazier. “Please.”

“Talk to me.” His voice is low, lips now nipping at your neck, suckling, giving you all the marks you need.

“I need you,” you hum, eyes squeezed shut, desperate. His finger discard your panties and slide easily inside of you, your back is fully dipped into the well-worn walls with how good he feels, his thick fingers making their way in and out of your soppy cunt, whines leave your lips faster than you can comprehend.

“Ruin me, Steve, fully, completely.” You don’t know how those words leave past your lush lips, but your thighs ache with need, cunt throbbing for him and him only.

His eyes widen quickly, pure hunger quick to fill his veins, mouth hanging open, curses leaving his lips at how forward you are being. “Show me the cowboy hat rule, sir.”

Steve all but groans, mouth harshly on yours again, chests pressed together and you can feel how hard he truly is, rock stiff, and aching to be inside of you. The sheer size of how he feels against your thighs almost makes your eyes bulge again.

His fingers stop moving in and out of you, before you can whine, he spins you around so fast that you gasp loudly, hands immediately plastered on the wall, pleasure and excitement fills your tummy, but the fact that he’s seeing you all vulnerable like this is embarrassing enough that you try to close your legs.

He’s quick to stop you with a grin, rough hands landing on the back of your thighs, spreading them open while tutting you. “Nuh-uh. Don’t get all shy now, princess. Spread them open f’me.” You spread them a little, cunt throbbing with how close his fingers are.

He groans again once he fully gets a view of you like this, face down, ass up, your pussy slicked with your juices, at his mercy. “‘M gonna ruin you, honey, don’t you worry.” A dark chuckle barks out from his chest, sending chills down your spine, almost making you whine.

Fuck.

His hands are rough when he has you by your waist, bruising almost. Lining his cock in front of your slick core, he swipes the head of his reddened tip inside of you with one forceful thrust. Your plushy lips open slightly, stealing your breath away as you try to adjust to his size.

Shit, shit, shit, he feels even better than you fucking expected.

His cock splits you open, filling every goddamn inch of you. You don’t know how many times you thought this, but, shit, he’s as big as the gossip in this small town says he is.

His thrusts are slow, grunts so loud and heavenly that it spurs you on more and more. His weight on you, the bruising hold. You feel him everywhere. On your back, hips, and fucking inside of you.

“F-fucking, fuck!” he growls, leaving nibbles all over your shoulder and back, even with the fact that this was Steve, and he was rough and filthy, it was wildly intimate, so wildly intimate that you could feel your heart pounding inside of your chest.

“How are you this fuckin’ tight, s-sweetheart?” One of his hands travel up to your neck, roughly holding you down, hips slamming into you with such force that you cry out.

He watches the way his girthy cock disappears in and out of you, wetting himself with your juices, filling every inch of you. “Doin’ s’good for me, princess.” His praises are heavenly, making your chest swell with pride.

He moves inside of your soppy cunt with short thrusts. Completely bottomed out, thrusting against the same sensitive spot every time as his balls, heavy with cum grind against your clit, with each movement, making you cry out his name, babbles leaving your mouth. “Yeah, you like this don’t ya? Want me to ruin this slutty pussy, huh? Ruin it for every other men?”

You nod all dumbly, yet, it isn’t enough for him. He wants to hear you, have you scream it out. “Say it, sweet thing, fuckin’ say it,” he groans, coarse voice making tingles appear everywhere on your skin.

“I-I love it, Stevie, want you to ruin me for everyone else, mmpf,” you moan all fucked out, eyes rolled all the way back to your head, hips desperately grinding against him for some more friction.

He picks up his pace, fucking into you with reckless abandon.“F-fuck doll, won’t last if you keep runnin’ that dirty mouth.”

But his words just encourage you to keep going, gasps coming out in short breaths as you manage to drive him crazier. “All yours, sir, all yours.”

He grunts at that, one of his arms snaking around and under your hips to find a better angle, lifting you up so that he can fuck his cock deeper into you, make you feel how fucking big he really is. “That’s right, baby, it’s all fuckin’ mine.”

Hot tears spill down your cheeks, entire body burning with it. The slick sounds of his hips driving into you, your moans, his low groans are all that fill the room. So fucking filthy, and you can feel yourself clenching around him.

It’s all too much; his hands everywhere, the lewd noises he makes, how deep his girthy cock is bottomed out inside of you, making you feel every ridge. It’s fucking perfect, and you desperately need to cum.

And of fucking course, Steve can feel your pussy gripping him, so tight that he knows he’s gonna cum right after you do. “Gonna cum f’me, huh? Such a good girl,” he praises, again, knowing the effect it has on you and all you can do is gasp and weakly nod.

One of his thumbs quickly finds your clit, making your pussy throb around him in pure ecstasy, all the overstimulation enough to have you crying like a bitch in heat. “Give it to me, angel,” he murmurs, pressing open-mouthed kisses everywhere on your skin.

His movements pick up, padded thumb rubbing circles around your clit, the other hand landing on your nipples, twisting them while pumping into you, it’s all too much that it makes you sob and beg for him.

“Cream my cock, let me ruin you completely, darlin’” It’s all the confirmation you need as your orgasm builds and washes through you, body exploding with pleasure, spreading through your skin as you scream out his name.

Your pussy squeezes and pulses around his cock, and he fucking knows, he won’t last, not in the slightest. “S-shit, sweet thing, gonna make me cum with all those filthy noises.”

“Want that, honey, hmm? Wanna be filled with my cum? Show everybody in this town who owns ya? Owns this tight lil’ cunt?” He feels it, that pure hunger for you over taking him, coarse voice, dark eyes, like a man possessed. His fingers dig further into your skin as he desperately chases his orgasm, enjoying the sloppy sounds your pussy makes as he drives into you.

“P-please, Stevie, n-need your cum,” you weakly hum. And it fucking breaks him. Hips losing all rhythm when he spills his warm load into you, twitching inside of you once he pumps you full of his cum.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Sunshine,” he breathes, collapsing on your back, both of you trying to come down from the high. He slips free of you slowly, his cum dripping down your thighs, making him grin proudly.

“S-steve,” you weakly murmur, collapsing in his arms. He holds you down, slight kisses left on your back, delicate in a way you have never seen him before. Yet, the two of you don’t mention it, “let me take you home,” he mutters, a gentle hold on you that makes you feel warm.

“N-no.”

“No?” Intrigued, his breath gets caught in his throat, the look you give him is so sultry that the blood rushes to his cock in an instant again. Fucking fuck, what have you done to him.

“We still haven’t followed the rules,” you purr sweetly, causing him to raise his brows in excitement, tempting him further and further.

“The rule was wear the hat, ride the cowboy, wasn’t it?” You question with a slight grin, eyes lulled, still fucked out.

Your fingertips gently grazed against his chest, hairy and slicked with sweat, his sudden dominance fading when you were so quick to switch from begging to cum underneath him to gaining that flirty, giddy personality again. Already leaving him a mess. “Y-yeah,” he murmured, watching you hungrily, his cock already weeping again.

“Then, sit down and lemme take care of you, cowboy,” you ordered again, shuddering breaths leaving him in an instant.

Now you were going to ruin him.

Fully.

Completely.

And Steve couldn’t be more infatuated. You were truly his demise.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fics #steve harrington smut #steve harrington imagines #cowboy!steve harrington

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sunaluv · 1 year

Text

Come get your man, come get your man!

In which someone has an obvious crush on your man

Feat: suna, nagi, ran, eren

Ignore the pairings I’m indecisive lols

SUNA RINTARO

“Hey you’re suna’s girlfriend right?” You looked up to see a girl with a stretched smile looking at you expectedly.

“Yeah, what’s up?” You asked, seeing no reason to be hostile yet.

“So nice to meet you! I sit next to him in english, you could say he’s kinda my english boyfriend,”

Oh.

You knew suna was attractive and you had a feeling this was inevitable, but that does not stop the shock of the situation.

“He told me about you, said you had a weird sense of humor,” you replied with a tight lipped smile.

‘He didn’t say that, he just said she was weird’ you thought.

“Omg so he does talk about me! It’s so weird, he like totally ignores me but it’s nice to know he talks to others about me,”

Now you were more amused than anything.

“But anyways, the reason I wanted to talk to you, girl to girl is that I think he might be into me a bit-not trying to sabotage your relationship it’s just… if it was me, I’d want someone to tell me.” She sat down next to you, putting an hand on your arm in faux comfort.

A voice called her name “what are you doing here.”

Like a deer caught in headlight, the girl stammered over her words “suna, I was just talking to your girlfriend about us.”

“There is no ‘us’” he deadpanned.

You watched amused as she accused suna of leading her on, saying how she kept borrowing pencils from her, or not moving his knee all the time when they’d touch and other absurd accusations on why he’s into her.

When she stormed off embarrassed and heartbroken, he sat next to you.

“Why did you intervene? I was having fun getting to know your english girlfriend,” you teased making him groan.

RAN HAITANI

“Omg you’re so pretty!”

Your boyfriend was on the other side of the nightclub dealing with who knows what as you smiled at the girl who had been gassing you for the past 2 minutes.

“I’m so glad stinky old ran found such a beauty like you, how did he cuff you?” She looked around as if searching for someone before leaning in close to speak over the booming music of the club.

“Just asking to check, he told you about us right?”

What us? “No he didn’t, what’s up with that?”

She sent an apologetic look. “He was here last week and we kinda…hooked up. Im not trying to be a homewrecker I just thought you should know.”

This liar, last week he had flown out with you on holiday for the week. You had arrived two days ago due to his business needing him.

But she didn’t need to know that.

“Omg no way, he’s cheating on me!” You faked hurt.

“Im sorry girl, I-“

“Why are you like this,” Your boyfriends strong groan cut into your conversation.

“Stop lying to her ran, she doesn’t deserve this! Come clean right now, you and I hooked up in that bathroom last we-“

“We weren’t in the country last week, dumbass.”

She froze and as if piecing everything together, she was about to fume at you. You knew she was lying and embarrassed her like that.

“You sly little-“

Before she could finish, ran was already pulling you away from her and leading you towards the back of the nightclub.

“I hate you by the way,” he sulked before you could even begin to poke fun at him.

NAGI SEISHIRO

You stared at your boyfriends ringing phone next to you, then back to said man who was absentmindedly clicking on his keyboard.

“Baby can you get that for me?”

You agreed, pressing accept on the incoming call from a random girls name that you’ve heard in passing from Nagi himself, nothing to be worried about, quite the opposite actually.

He keeps complaining about how she won’t leave him alone, but you defended the girl you didn’t know, saying maybe she was friendly.

Answering the call, a pretty girl sat infront of the window, neck angled so that the gold light shined on her face.

She obviously wasn’t expecting to see you, as she quickly adjusted her position to a more casual setting.

“Uhm hello, you must be sei’s friend, can you put him on the phone?” She asked, not hiding her distaste that your man wasn’t the one answering the phone.

“Girlfriend,” you corrected. “And he’s busy right now, I can get him to call you back if you want,”

She glared at you seeing you not let down. “Okay I guess. Just tell him it’s KK calling, he’ll come to me.”

You sent her a challenging look before relaying the message to the man three meters away from you nice and loud so she can hear.

“Hang up.” You saw her eyes widen and didn’t bother to hide your smile.

“What was that?” You asked.

He repeated himself, not realising she could still hear him, but before you could hang up, she had already done it, too embarrassed to face the girl who has what she wanted.

“You see what I mean now?”

EREN YEAGER

You stood in between the spread legs of your boyfriend in the party hosts kitchen as his big arms held your back to his chest. His long legs kicked the cabinets as he swung his legs, staring down the girl stood across the room.

“Why are you staring at me?” She asked giggling seductively.

“You’re being weird.”

“Whatever,” she smiled, rolling her eyes.

You fiddled with the necklace eren bought you for your anniversary, which seemed to get her attention.

“Cute chain girl,” she covered her annoyance with intrigue. “Did yeager boy here get it for you?”

You sent her a look, nodding to confirm.

“Omg that reminds me of this one time when we went on holiday together, you remember that ‘ren? When you bought me that cute set?” She batted her eyelashes at him.

You knew exactly what she was doing and it wasn’t going to work. It’s such a shame she had to act like this too, she was pretty, you’ll admit.

You trusted your man, he gave you a head up about the girl who leeched on to him, warning you about all the lies and deception she would try to drill in your mind.

“That was back in Spain right? He bought a extras while looking for this one right?” You smiled at her innocently.

“Wowwww, you told her about me eren? I’m so flattered” if she was pissed, and you knew she was, she didn’t show it.

“Mhm he told me all about you, about how you leech on to him at any chance you get.”

She let out loud, forced laughter “she’s a funny one yeager, make sure you keep a tight leash on this one.” She looked at you and you swore you saw her eye twitch.

The pair of you stayed silent as you watched her aggressively walk back towards the party.

“You’re better than me you know, if any of your guy friends started to act like that I would’ve beat his ass,”

You chuckled, turning in his hold to face him. “Good thing you were holding me because one more second and I would have.”

God he was so in love with you.

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hearts4chriss · 3 months

Text

𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲𝐬𝐚𝐭 𝐛𝐲 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝.

𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐄'𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑

Brothers bestfriend! Chris + needy! Nate’s lil sis

prompt: Nate ( ur older brother ) wants to go out for a bit with some of his other friends and he doesn’t trust you enough to stay home by urself without mom and dad since they won’t be there either. So he asks one of his best friend Chris to stay over and watch you, Matt and nick know ur crush on Chris so they pretend they can’t come.

Part 01

contains: masturbation ( no actual sex ), use of y/n ( sorry I have to ) dirty fantasies ( pet names, rough! Chris, dirty talk, degrading, forced head etc just beyond FILTHLY imagination ), use of vibrator on reader, caught by Chris, FORESHADOWING, fantasy will be like this

Nate are you serious I’m not 12! I whine when said he was gonna find a baby sitter for me knowing how much it pisses me off

I’m Nate doe’s little sister I’m 18, we’ve Been close to his bestfriends the sturniolo triplets. So obviously him being my brother naturally I got to know them.

Nick

I clicked with him superrr fast, I love his energy and when I found out he was gay that just made it all the better because I’ve always wanted a gay bestfriend, and we always have sleepovers :)

Matt

Matt’s absolutely adorable I love him he always helps me calm down whenever I’m about to or am having a panic attack, I remember one time during a test I forgot everything and almost had one and he slid me the answers. Love that kid

now there’s a reason I saved Chris for last,

Chris

chris and I know each other just as well if not even more then I do his other two brothers, we haven’t done anything unfortunately. I’ve had a crush on him since middle school.

First I just wanted to kiss him and hold his hand.

Then go to his house and do some more.

Then now, as an 18 year old I wanted him to fuck my Brains out.

I’m around him all the time since we all live in LA and always hanging out, I always see him shirtless and fucking hell it turns me on, I always get lucky since nick and matt found of my attraction to his brother they always snap me or text me pictures of him.

What sucks is I cant have him. It would take my life 1000 times over for me to be able to fuck chris sturniolo, and it sucks because my brother nate does not play that shit.

He strictly said "your not allowed to date any of them" obviously referring to matt and Chris.

Which also doesn't help because my wants and desires a hormonal teenage-adult girl only grow more whenever he comes around, chris is always there.

Now today, nate had to run some errands and nick matt and chris used to watch me when I was younger if my parents couldn't

Buttt, nick and matt "could not come due to personal issues" so. Your guess is right, im gonna be alone with chris for hours.

That thought alone made me soak in my p-

“Y/n! are you listening to me kid?” My older brother chuckles leaning against my doorway of my room as im on my bed watching "The Vampire Diaries".

“Huh? oh yeah im listening matt and nick cant come so chris is because im fucking 11.” I roll my eyes hiding my excitement from him watching me.

“Don't think of any weird shit alright? He's just watching you so don't-“

“Ugh is he here yet? You're annoying me already.” I groan shifting in my sheets and taking a sip from my celsius hearin our door open, they have a key.

“Welp thats chris.” Nate says tilting his head for me to get up.

I get up from the sheets wearing some pink sleep shorts and a white t-shirt and he raises an eyebrow.

“Your wearing THAT? around chris?” Nate chuckles and I flip him off.

“Hey! I heard that!.” Chris yells coming up the stairs sounding offended.

He's now at the top of the steps. oh my fuck he looks so good.

Its around 6ish in LA right now and hes wearing a black tank top and grey fresh love sweats, slight stubble and his hair was a bit messy which I always liked and my eyes immediately drifted to his natural bulge in his pants as him and Nate were talking.

“Just make sure she doesn’t get into any trouble.” Nate puts his arm around me giving me a hug and Chris chuckles.

“Don’t worry bro she’s safe with me.” He says before dapping him up as Nate leaves the house. yeah safer if you were balls deep inside

Oh god Chris sh-shit so-d-deep inside me

Yeah? You feel me deep inside you baby?

bro she’s like zoning out today. Nate chuckled and I snap out of it

Whatever no I wasn’t! Just go!

Soon after it was just me and Chris so we made our way down to the living room

“Where are ur other two clones?” I chuckle getting situated on the couch before turning on a movie saltburn

“they have “personal issues”.” He said rolling his eyes causing a small laugh to fall from my lips.

“So it’s just you and me little one.” A smirk curving on his lips, just enough for my panties to be soaked.

Shut up Chris I’m 18.I mutter trying to watch the movie in peace and he chuckles

the movie went on and it was now, the bathtub scene where jacob elordi ( Felix ) is jerking off.

I peer over to Chris whose eyes are clearly fixated on the screen as my squeeze my thighs together under the blanket feeling all my hormonal thoughts leaking through my panties.

This had nothing to do with the movie, it’s the thought for Chris doing that to himself that had turned me on most. The tension so thick a knife couldn’t even cut through.

“Uhm I-i gotta go to the bathroom”. I nearly choke and I fix my shorts placing the blanket down where I was sitting.

“Don’t take to long I’ll miss you.” He chuckles and that didn’t help.

I go to my room and close the door squeezing my eyes shut.

I had maybe 5 minutes to relieve myself.

I quickly reach into my drawer grabbing my vibrating dildo and the remote for it.

I pull down my shorts and panties and spread my legs letting the tip of the toy get coated in my wetness and I bite my lip slightly feeling the thickness of it.

I turned it on letting out a soft moan slowly inserting it, wishing this was Chris’s dick instead.

I began thrusting the toy in and out of my pussy letting the squelching sounds of arousal grow letting it drip down curling my toes throwing my head on the pillows allowing my mind to drift

I was in Chris’s/my room my head smushed in the pillows as his cock rammed inside me whilst I was on my stomach. His hips slamming against my ass and his hand wrapped around my lower stomach as I cried out his name

Fuck fuckk so d-deep- I whimper into the pillows as he was bringing me to my 4th orgasm, we had switched numerous positions and my legs were quivering in front of him as he laid a hard snack to my ass chucking behind me.

such a fucking slut letting me fuck you like this, imagine if ur brother found out his little sister was getting her pussy pounded by his bestfriend. He laid another harsh smack to my ass and I jolted forward.

stretched this pussy out so good- he groans rubbing my clit to chase both our orgasms.

ngh- o-oh shit- fuck- I gripped the sheets tightly curses of Chris’s name flew out my mouth feeling my eyes water from the angle of his hips thrusting allowing his thick cock to hit every single spot inside me

come on sweetheart cum for me, you have another one in you yeah? He grunted lowly in my ear kissing me sloppily as a string of Saliva parts from our lips each time we kiss moaning into each others mouths.

“Oh fuck Chris I-“ I curl my toes and yell loudly as I’m about to release on the toy before I look up and see Chris. Was. Watching me.

“Were you playing with yourself?” Chris leans on the doorway of my room his eyes darting to between ny legs as I was thrusting the toy in and out of me and I quickly covered up my cheeks flush with embarrassment.

“Uhm…maybe. Sorry I-I’ll be down in a second-“

Maybe I can help. Chris says closing the door to my room approaching my bed

@mattsleftnipple03 @bernardsleftbootycheek @sturniolopowers @gdsvhtwa @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @worldlxvlys @chrisslut25 @princessbetsy123-blog @mattslolita @guccifrog @blahbel668 @mattsneezing @trickywritters @hearts4chris

@nonamegirlxsturniolo @luvmxtt @theyluv-meee @mattsnymphette @hoesformatt @luv4kozume @kikisturnioloo @pepsiimaxx @babyddolly @iiheartstef @junnniiieee07 @ast3ro1dzz @sturniolowhore @st7rnioioss @emma4eva @braindead4l @ihearttsyouu @blondiesjailer @kqyslyho3 @sturnsfav @sunsetsturniolos @sturniololoverr @stqrnstars @dlyansworld @soimightlikeoldmen69 @abbie13sworld @lacysturniolo @sturniol0s @chrissgirlsstuff @leah-loves-lilies @luhsexcbihh @nicksmainbitch

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo smut #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #smut #nicolas sturniolo #hearts4chriss #babyddolly is my fucking girl #🩷 nate doe’s little sister series!

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a-kaash-me-outside · 3 months

Text

˚₊‧ ᴡɪʟʟ ɪᴛ ʙᴇ ᴄᴀsᴜᴀʟ ɴᴏᴡ? ‧₊˚

♡ ft. geto, toji, gojo, higuruma, nanami ♡ total wc: 10.9k // nsfw minors dni! // ♡ contents: ౨ৎ 𝑎 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑢𝑡𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 ౨ৎ, afab reader she/her pronouns, no smut in gojos or tojis im sorry, emotionally stunted men kinda but they grow isnt that nice (not talking abt higuruma and nanami god no), the aftermath of fwb caught feelings, consolation, emotional aftercare ig, lotta domestic fluff for higuruma and nanami's!!!! (everyone say ty @noosayog for nanami's bc she is the only reason i wrote his) ♡ listen along: casual by chappell roan ♡

- ᡣ𐭩 time passes and people change, and just because you fell first doesn't mean you don't get a happy ending + bonus continuation of higuruma's and nanami's ᡣ𐭩 -

ᯓᡣ𐭩 ɢᴇᴛᴏ [ 3 ʏᴇᴀʀs ]

on the list of people that you thought you’d see tonight, geto isn’t even in the top 100, not because of probability or likelihood, but solely based on the fact that you have not thought about this man in years. if you were asked the question from your future self, “holy shit, guess who we saw tonight?” you would’ve listed old friends, distant relatives, exes, minor celebrities, other flings, teachers from high school, people from stories you’ve only heard of, and then geto.

after that night, you really didn’t see barely any of him. a few posts on your feed: one 2 weeks after and another 2 months after that one when you remembered that you forgot to unfollow him. once on campus: him across a million tables getting lunch with some girl too long after your little thing for you to care about who she was to him at all. once at a mutual (though you didn’t know was mutual at the time) friend’s party close to graduation: you ran into him grabbing a drink from the cooler and neither of you said a single word to each other, just exchanged a very knowing glance.

fast forward a handful of years, with geto not on your mind during a single one of them, and you’re stunned, nearly speechless, as you recognize him across the bar. the track of which your mind is racing takes you stop after stop to thoughts and feelings you didn’t really ask to experience. they follow a curving roadmap in your mind of: why is he here? ↝ wow, he looks great ↝ does he live nearby still? ↝ that’s weird ↝ no, it isn’t weird, i still live here ↝ then what are the fucking chances that he’s here ↝ no, seriously he looks so good

he looks different though, you realize about 3 minutes into sneaking glances in his direction, in some way that you just can’t put your finger on right now. in your slightly tipsy state, you barely stop to ask yourself how you even clocked that it was him so quickly, how there was no hesitance in the recognition or questioning in the placing. he looks really fucking good.

in fact, now that all of the obligatory thoughts have come to a heed, that’s really the only thing that you can think about. how good he looks.

the events that happened that ended your situationship all of those years ago are nothing but outlines now; whatever you said or he said just sounds like underwater conversations. you can see the way that you left and you remember being dumbfounded, but everything else has lost its sting, like a story you’d recall to a friend of a friend in a setting much like the one you’re in. time has handled the memory the way that time does and as a result, when the two of you finally make eye contact after what feels like an hour of missed mutual glances, you offer a small wave. a wave that says, “i remember only knowing you in past tense. we are such different people now, i wonder what it would’ve been like if we met now instead.”

the wave was the first step, technically, sure, but he makes the literal first step. he departs from the conversation he’s been enthralled with for as long as you’ve been stealing glances and he weaves between people in the middle of their own stories before ending up in front of you.

when he does, he asks, as if he’s just randomly bumped into you rather than intentionally coming over, “shit… is that you?” he puts his hand on the back of your chair, thumb brushing your shoulder.

the friend that you’re with cocks their head, furrows their eyebrows, has no idea who this is or their connection to you, the timelines of their interactions with you spaced too far apart for one to know the other. geto notices this look, addresses it. “we used to…,” he pauses, “see each other? for a little bit.”

you can’t help the laugh that bubbles up from your chest at the way he describes it. “yes, yes we did,” you nod. “back in college,” you explain a little further, “been a while.”

the interaction quiets, the two of you exchanging soft smiles instead of words, and your friend knows where this thing is going before either of you even do, so they bow their head, offer their seat to geto, and take their leave in the name of some bullshit excuse. he takes it without a second thought, asking you how you’ve been, laughing about the time that you saw each other at that party, and after an hour of just talking he says, “yeah, i actually thought about you the other day.”

you nearly choke on the drink he’s bought you. you rush to put it down. “you did?” you ask.

he nods. “i don’t even remember what prompted it. i think, maybe, i saw a photo of myself from college and how different i looked and how different i feel now and then just, out of nowhere, remembered how shitty i was to you.”

you don’t say anything in return, running your finger around the lip of your glass as you stare at him. you don’t know how to say that you don’t care anymore, that you haven’t thought of those days in years, that the surprise that you displayed a few seconds ago was completely genuine, because you were so convinced that neither of you had. it comes out something like a shrug and, “we were practically kids.”

he answers so quickly, “well, kids or not, i’m sorry.”

you laugh, gently so he won’t think you’re laughing at his apology. really, you’re laughing at the notion of apologizing for an act that no longer warrants forgiveness. you laugh at the thought of giving it anyways. you place your hand on top of his on the edge of the bar. “thank you,” you nod. he nods back.

when you let him take you back to his place for old times sake, you’re half-expecting the same person from the ghosts of memories from years ago, like all of the things he said at the bar were just a last ditch effort to usher the night in the exact direction that it’s heading in.

but he’s different now, just like he said he was before he apologized, and you can feel it in his movements and his actions. more confident, more intentional. he kisses you first and it doesn’t taste selfish. it doesn’t feel rushed to get to the main event. he savors it, holds your head in his hands, and doesn’t touch a single other inch of your body until he’s found the right combination of fingertip pressure and tongue that has you melting into his palm.

your mind flickers to the notion that these actions might be pre planned because they feel so meticulous and thought out, but that impression quickly dissolves when he sinks inside of you, slowly, keeping his eyes locked on yours as he does, his hand reaching down to cup your cheek, fingers nearly trembling against your jaw when he presses his hips completely against the insides of your thighs.

“shit,” he hisses, hands moving down to your waist, fingers light like feathers practically crawling against your skin, as if each print was so grateful it got to make contact with the softness below. when he grips into the fat of your hips, he’s careful, intentional or not, pressing his thumbs into the bone, but not letting his nails leave a single mark. it’s pressured, but comfortable.

he holds you in place, slowly pulling his hips back and he can’t help but look down between your legs, watching himself disappear inside of you, a creamy mess at the base, shallow breaths recycled in his chest.

“hey,” you say, eyes locked on the tenseness of his jaw and the way that he stops himself with sharp inhales. he finds your gaze in a second. “don’t hold out on me here.” you rest your arm on his bicep, fingers curling around wherever they can reach.

you can feel it under your palm, his muscle tensing as his pace picks up, rhythm consistent, but unrelenting. the breaths come out of you quickly and you’re unable to hold any sort of facade. “ah- shit, f-fuck,” you cry, “holy shit.” you squeeze your eyes shut, swallowing harshly as strangled noises leave you without vetting a single one.

“n-no,” you shake your head, regretting it instantly as he slows down in response. you shake your head harder, “no, don’t stop, but- ah,” you groan, “your- you were- i meant,” you exhale a laugh, “let me hear you.”

his eyes widen slightly as he processes what you want from him, and then he listens. he leans down to kiss your lips and then your cheek and then your jaw and then your ear. yes, he’s fucking you better than you’ve ever been fucked in your entire life, but that’s not what makes you crumble. no, it’s his grunts and pants and breathy groans pressed right up against your skin.

you thread your fingers into his hair, twirling the ends of the locks between the tips, raking your nails down the base of his neck to the front, and then smoothing them down his chest. “more,” you mumble against him, and you’re not sure exactly what you mean, but he gives it to you, whatever it is. you’re certain he’d give you anything in the world right now if you just asked for it.

there’s a moment after when you’re lying there with him, shoulder pressed up against his, chest heaving, barely recovered, that you find yourself back in that college dorm. you don’t know why the tightness is rising in the hollow below your sternum, but it is. you remind yourself that you weren’t expecting anything from this anyway, so it doesn’t matter, but it does. you’re not sure if you just don’t want to be treated like that again or if it has something to do with geto being the one lying beside you.

when you turn your head to face him, he’s already looking at you. he doesn’t shy away in embarrassment, like it’s wrong that he’d be gazing at you after all of that. his features are steady, confident, strong. he smiles softly, brings his hand up to cup your cheek. “should we get breakfast in the morning?”

in the morning, you repeat in your head. you wait a beat, trying to come up with something to say, to proceed with caution or to discern his intentions or to at least not sound desperate, but all that comes out is, “in the morning?”

he nods, turning on his side so he can stare at you without his neck getting sore. he inches closer to you, kissing the top of your shoulder and then your temple. he drapes his arm over your stomach. “if that’s okay with you,” he says and then kisses you again.

“okay,” you nod back, lazy smile on your lips, eyelids heavy at the warmth surrounding you now as he pulls you closer to him. “yeah, sure,” you affirm, voice so soft and airy that the tightness in your chest is lifted away with the words, all that’s left is a hope you feel comfortable letting stick around.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 ᴛᴏᴊɪ [ 3 ᴍᴏɴᴛʜs ]

you are not expecting anyone. you have resigned yourself to a nice pair of pajamas and comfy socks and a warm cup of tea and a spot in the living room that you will only leave for a refill and bathroom breaks. you are tucked into the corner of your couch, back pressed up against the sturdy arm, legs crossed, and a throw blanket over your lap.

you are not expecting anyone, so the sound at the door should have felt a lot more jarring. well, it is jarring for a second, a few seconds actually, the echoing disruption bouncing off of the walls of your living room and back to you, but then the noises repeat themselves, like they’re on a looping track, and you realize that-

you know that knock. heavy-handed with a tight fist, back of the knuckles, not the tops. almost pittering out by the end of the three successions, like the first one is direct and assured, but the second and third don’t really bother keeping up. that knock almost makes you run to the door. if it were 3 months ago, you’d be skipping to the door.

but you hesitate for a few reasons. firstly because when the connection hits that you know that knock very well, you remind yourself to proceed with caution. secondly because it sounds the same but with a difference as small as a hairline fracture. you heard that knock far too many times during the span of a year and a half, and this one sounds almost completely identical, but there’s a half second pause between the first knock and the second knock and the raps feel less impatient.

you don’t have to look through the peephole to know who’s standing on the other side of the door, but you’re glad you do anyway. if for nothing else, it gives you a slight edge, you’re convinced, like you’ve seen him first, you have the upperhand now. at least, that’s what you tell yourself.

toji hadn’t contacted you since he left that day. no texts. no calls. no showing up at your apartment at 3 am. nothing. you kept telling yourself that you’d hear from him. when that didn’t happen, you started telling yourself that you didn’t care if you heard from him. you’ve actually been waiting for this moment, replaying what it would look like if he came back, the things you’d say to him and how you’d say them.

now, looking out at him just standing there, you’re frozen. every scenario you’ve replayed in your head, all of the emotional venting and blow out screaming that you’ve rehearsed and you can’t recall a single scene. you think about leaving him out there, about telling him to go away through the door or just pretending like you’re not home.

“i can see the shadow of your feet under the door,” toji calls out, muffled by the barrier between you guys, and yet it still rings out through your entire body.

you slowly open the door. though, even if it took an entire hour to open the door, you’re not sure it would’ve mattered. you don’t think time is something that could’ve prepared you for seeing him. seeing him didn’t even prepare you for seeing him. you don’t know what to say, so you don’t say anything, folding your arms over your chest. you just wait.

“i-,” he starts, but then immediately stops, half sighs/half scoffs as he leans his chest forward, eyes scanning the inside of your apartment, for what exactly you’re not sure.

“what, toji?” you ask, voice stronger- and more annoyed- than you anticipate it being. you’re grateful for that. “why are you here?”

“shit, this is already hard enough for me t-,” he says, shaking his head, corner of his mouth tugging upward in frustration.

you narrow your eyes, cutting him off, “sorry, this is hard for you?” you feel like laughing or strangling him more than you do crying, which is a desired outcome in this situation, you suppose. “you know that you haven’t talked to me in three months, right? you haven’t talked to me?” you ask, and you can feel your pulse in your wrist and your chest now, because the lines are coming back to you slowly, one by one, circling your brain, fueling your confidence.

“yeah, no, of course i know that,” he combats, like you’re the one that’s being an asshole right now.

you smooth your fingertips against your eyes, blocking the sight of him out for just a second before gesturing with your hand as you ask, “are you going to answer my question or…?”

“look, i said that this is hard enough as it is for me to just be here,” he snaps, and if you were a little less annoyed, if he hadn’t come at this whole thing exactly how he was, you might’ve clocked the desperation in his voice or the uncertainty in his pupils.

“do you know how fucking stupid you sound right now?” you ask. it’s a rhetorical question.

one week after he left, you were certain he was going to come back. you and toji had gone a week without seeing each other or even speaking. you had even gone two weeks. sure, the conversation felt much more serious and, sure, really deep down you knew this time was different, but still, you held out dumb hope.

one month after he left and you realized this was not just him being weird and distant. this was something brand new that you had never had to deal with before. you were still trying to figure out how to navigate it when the two month realization hit: that maybe he wasn’t coming back at all, ever, maybe you had done something wrong. if he had shown back up on your doorstep during that time this conversation would’ve gone very differently you think.

but he didn’t. he showed up at month three when your reaction to random memories of toji were no longer tears and guilt, but laughter and bitterness. there weren’t many things that toji could say right now that would warrant anything more than you standing in your doorway for 4 minutes or less.

“i-,” he starts, but then sighs. he looks left, down the hallway of your building, eyes shifting from object to object out of your view.

“please don’t waste anymore of my time,” you reply and it’s softer than you intend. you thought it’d come out angrier. that seems like a theme for you tonight: everything sounding different in your head. when he doesn’t reply, you start a countdown, promising yourself that when you make it to 15, you’ll close the door in his face. you only make it to 13.

“i’m not here to waste your time,” he says, with no air of disgust or annoyance, the first halfway decent thing he’s said to you tonight. “i-,” he huffs again, “i’m here to say sorry. and-,” he hesitates.

you wait, just listening. the longer that he hesitates, the more time you have to think about what he might say and how you’re standing with your door open for the entire floor to hear your conversation. you’re not sure what’s worse, having this conversation in the confines of familiar grounds or the openness of neutrality.

“and ask… are you already seeing someone else?” he finishes.

you’re dumbfounded, blinking at him slowly before responding in the only way you can think of right now, “goodnight, toji.” you shake your head, cursing yourself for expecting anything more.

“no,” he rushes to say and then stumbles over the rest, “i- i tried to see somebody else, quite a bit of other people actually…”

you scoff, squinting at him, saying more sternly this time, with an added attestation of closing the door in his face, “goodnight, toji.”

he reaches out with a quick reflex, grabbing the door before you’ve barely even moved it. “wait, no, i- fuck,” he mutters, scrambling, “can i just come in?”

“so that was your plan then?” you drop your hand from the door. “to come back here unannounced, be shitty to me, ask if i’m sleeping with anyone, tell me that you’ve slept with lots of people, and then ask if you can come inside?” you ask.

“i didn’t have a plan-,” he replies.

“clearly,” you interject.

“but i’m trying,” he finishes, and you’re waiting for there to be more, to explain exactly how this constitutes as trying, because you don’t really see that here.

“fucking christ, toji, you’re going to have to try harder than whatever the fuck this is,” you sneer.

“we- we had a good thing,” he tries again. you don’t understand how every time he opens his mouth it gets worse and worse. why are you even entertaining this anymore?

“fuck you, man,” you scoff, and it feels like all of the anger has left your body, and in the void where it once was present is nothing but disinterest.

“no, not like that,” he backpedals. maybe if he would say more than four words at a time, or four better words at a time, then you wouldn’t have to keep filling in the blanks or being pissed off or- “for the last six months of our relationship, i didn’t sleep with anyone else,” he admits like it’s the answer to all of your problems. the word relationship burns at the forefront of your mind so hard that you don’t realize what he’s said for 10 whole seconds.

“i, so what?” your voice is unconvincing even to your own ears. you had slept with other people even 2 months before that last day. that wasn’t the issue. you guys were allowed to sleep with other people. you had an explicit conversation about the fact that you could sleep with other people, something along the lines of, hey, we can see other people right? yeah, we’re not fucking dating. okay, just checking.

the so what, you had already answered for yourself, inner voice replying to your own question, screaming, you guys were exclusive, unknowingly to each other, for 2 whole months before you confessed and he left.

his answer is much different. he says, “so nothing really. i just- i needed you to know that.”

“well, what the fuck do you want me to do with that?” you ask, and it comes out bitter and discouraged, but what you really mean is, please tell me what you want, please, can you just tell me that you missed me.

“whatever you want,” he answers instead.

you take a deep breath, a million emotions coursing through your veins and up your throat. “you know what?” you say, and it doesn’t sound angry, it sounds playful, “no, seriously,” you smile and then you laugh, “fuck you, toji.” you close your mouth like you’re done talking, like that’s all you needed to say, but your heart disagrees, forces more words out into the air no matter how hard your jaw is clenched shut.

“you show up here and you’re an asshole and then you’re decent and then you say shit like that and then- then i ask you what you fucking want from this, what you’re trying to play at here and you tell me whatever i want?” you say, exasperated.

“what i wanted was for you not to leave me three fucking months ago. that’s what i wanted,” you spit, “i wanted you to tell me this shit three fucking months ago before i sat alone, by myself, sad and then angry, and the entire time, fucking missing you, you fucking asshole. that’s what i wanted.”

and then it’s there, out in the open, airing for the two of you to witness and to face, and no matter what happens, you know you’ve done everything and said everything that you’ve needed to. he’s quiet for a few moments and you let him be, not tapping your foot or rolling your eyes or being pissed off, but just letting it play out. if this is the last time you ever see toji, why not just let it play out?

“okay,” he says, and it’s soft in a way you’ve only ever heard from him one time in your entire relationship. “i’m sorry.” he pauses. “i really don’t know how to do this,” he admits and you believe him. it feels different from when he told you something along those lines earlier, but you have a feeling that this is what he was trying to say all along.

“do what?” you push, because your mind is making assumptions, but if he’s going to prove anything to you, he needs to start now.

“ask for forgiveness?” he says, like he’s thinking out loud, “apologize? date someone?” you don’t say anything. you’re looking for something more concrete than that. it takes a handful of uncomfortable seconds before he says, “actually care about someone.”

“and do you?” you ask.

his lips press into a thin line, his eyes shift from left to right again. you can feel him getting antsy with the conversation and he’s barely said one vulnerable thing. you look at him, eyes soft and pleading, silently begging him that if he’s grown from this, you’ll let him back in, you swear, but you’ve been hurt before and you know what you’re worth, so you’re going to need some sort of evidence as collateral. “yeah,” he mumbles, but it’s audible. “you,” he says like it isn’t obvious, and it’s quiet and daunted, but you really appreciate the effort.

“okay,” you say, and that’s all you say.

“okay?” he questions, confused. “that’s it?”

“yup,” you say, but your small smile and the fact that you’re not slamming the door in his face again gives away a bit more than that.

“can i… come in?” he asks, hesitant, like he’s still being tested.

you shake your head, hand gripped onto the edge of the door. “no,” you say, scrunching up your nose and furrowing your eyebrows. “because if you come in here, we’re going to have sex,” you admit, half because it’s the truth and half just to see the look on his face. (it’s worth it.)

“wait,” he says, placing his palm flat against your door, but not moving it. his hand is now inside of your apartment, the only part of his body that’s made it past this invisible barrier of hallway and your place. “that sounds like a great thing. why am i not allowed in?”

“because this is me having self-control,” you explain, placing a hand on his shoulder and pushing the small portion of him that’s crossed the division back into the hallway. when you feel his skin against your pinky, soft fabric of that familiar shirt underneath your palm, you almost make a fool of yourself right after you say the word self-control, but you remind yourself what’s at stake here, what you really want.

“i came all the way out here to see you-,” he starts, but he doesn’t make a move to replace his hand on your door, letting his arm fall back to his side. it’s for the better, too, because you’re not sure how much more self-control you have already, no matter how much you tell yourself about longevity and whatever.

“if you really care,” you interrupt him, using his few vulnerable words against him, “and you weren't just trying to sleep with me tonight,” you pause, letting those words sink in, “you will go home and you will call me tomorrow morning and we will get breakfast- the least sexy meal of them all- and then maybe coffee if i enjoy hanging out with you outside of just having sex with you, and then we will go from there.”

“i-,” he starts to protest, but you cock your head. the truth is, if he said another word, reached out and touched your cheek or your hip or really anywhere on your body, if he kissed you, or just walked inside of your apartment and sat down on your couch, you wouldn’t have stopped him. you might even have gotten breakfast with him anyways. he doesn’t know that, you don’t think, but even if he does, he doesn’t act on it. he bows his head slightly, conceding, and says, “okay. i will just… talk to you… tomorrow… then.”

you nod. “goodnight, toji,” you say, hand on the door, closing it as slowly as you opened it.

“uh, yea, night,” he says back. you won’t tell anyone, and neither will he, about the stupidest small smile you see on his lips as he leaves your apartment that night or the fact that he wakes up extra early the next morning, muttering under his breath about how ridiculous dating is before he calls you at 9:30 on the dot.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 ɢᴏᴊᴏ [ 3 ᴡᴇᴇᴋs ]

being away from ɢᴏᴊᴏ feels like detoxing. not from like hard drugs or alcohol, but… coffee.

like you know it’s not necessarily good for you, drinking it every day, but it’s a habit you’ve had for a while now and you just can’t seem to break it. it’s not really hurting anything in your day-to-day and you’ve been doing it for so long that it’s probably fine to just keep doing it.

but out of nowhere it hits you that maybe drinking coffee as much as you do is a waste of money and even if you don’t feel the negative effects constantly in your daily routine, you remind yourself of the times where you could distinctly feel the thump of your heart and the unsteady of your hands. you recall the time that you stayed up all night for the promise of a cup of coffee to get you through the day. in every memory that you’ve ever had in your entire college career, you’re holding a cup of coffee.

so one day you make the choice to stop. you stop buying coffee from coffee shops and pods for your coffee maker and cups from diners and accepting free ones from friends. you don’t really need a good cup of coffee as badly as you think you do. and it’s stupid, you think, because it’s just coffee. it doesn’t mean anything. just because you’ve been drinking it consistently for quite awhile doesn’t mean it has any sort of hold over you. it’s just coffee.

but then the headaches come and the irritation sets in and nights are hard, but for some reason mornings are unbearable, and you feel antsy all the time and you haven’t left your room in the past three days and the only thing you want is a cup of fucking coffee and you can’t relapse with coffee; it’s fucking coffee.

yeah, being away from gojo feels a lot like detoxing from coffee.

you try to just not see him. it’ll be easier for you if you just don’t see him, you tell yourself. you go out of your way to avoid his walking path on campus and you refuse to leave your dorm when you don’t absolutely need to in fear of bumping into him or worse, just seeing him from afar, and god forbid you even come within three streets of the corner where his apartment resides. you block his number and you delete social media off of your phone for the time being, too many mutual friends to make casualties, and you do not let yourself think about him. not falling asleep, not when you wake up, not while you’re doing homework, not in your dreams or in the shower, not when something reminds you of him, not when you see his favorite show on your recently watched, not when you really need a good cup of coffee.

and it works for a while.

but not forever.

three weeks into your detox and you’re doing such a good job at not thinking about gojo that you mix up his monday schedule with his tuesday schedule and on your way back to your dorm, you see him. if you keep walking at the same pace that you’re walking, you will collide with him. if neither of you do anything, one of you will get hurt.

you look down at your phone, hoping, in the forefront of your mind, that he didn’t see it was you. (in the back of your mind, you’re hoping that he’s the one to break the longest bout of silence the two of you have had since you met.) when you sneak a glance, he’s already almost reached you, jogging to catch up with you. “hey,” he calls out, just in case you haven’t seen him.

“hi,” you say, stopping in place and letting him approach you.

“i’ve been trying to get ahold of you,” he offers, like you wouldn’t have known that.

“oh, sorry, haven’t been on my phone,” you lie. he knows that you’re lying. he can tell that you’re lying, so you don’t really know why you lie in the first place. maybe to prove a point. maybe to make him feel bad.

“look, about…,” he trails off, trying to remember how long he’s been without you, “about that… day…,” he opts for instead.

you put your hand up, waving the topic off. you mean to say something like, don’t worry about it, see you later, but it comes out like, “we don’t have to talk about that here.” here. fucking here. if you would’ve left those four letters out, it would’ve been a perfect line to walk away with, but you don’t. your stupid coffee-craving brain tacks it on, hopeful.

“right,” he says, nodding, “should we get coffee maybe, then, or?”

it’s not out of the ordinary, or it didn’t used to be, but now it feels taboo. you want to snap and ask him if he’s sure, because coffee sounds a bit too much like a date for people that aren’t together, but you realize very quickly that the irritation from your coffee detox is maybe a little bit too much to hold in without any closure. “sure,” you agree, “i just got done with class so we cou-.”

“i know,” he says, because three weeks hasn’t erased your schedule from his brain either.

you order an iced tea. you’re still convinced you’re done with coffee for good. he looks surprised at your choice, like he’s never seen you order an iced tea before, because he hasn’t, but he doesn’t say anything. you sip on it throughout unpleasant pleasantries and it’s refreshing, but it’s lacking something. in fact, the longer that you drink this stupid drink that has caffeine anyways and isn’t as good, the irritation bubbles higher and higher until- “can i start?” you ask, tapping your fingers against the table in rhythmic succession.

“yeah, sure,” he says, bringing his coffee to his lips and taking a sip.

“if at any point in this conversation your answer to anything i have to say is that we weren’t together, i don’t think we should have this conversation,” you reason, and you mean it, but his reaction takes you aback. you notice the smallest flinch when you say weren’t.

“i wasn’t-,” he shakes his head, sighing, “no, i wasn’t going to say that.”

“okay,” you say, dragging your fingertips along the condensation on the side of your glass. “then what were you going to say?”

he thinks for a minute, like he didn’t assume that he’d get this far when he brought up the idea of coffee. “i wanted to stop you from leaving,” he says.

“but you didn’t,” you rebuttal.

“i didn’t,” he affirms. it’s quiet again. you can hear the scrape of the cups against the table as they’re picked up, drank from, and put back down. the chatter in the coffee shop drones over the sounds of hesitance and nerves. “i’m sorry,” he says after a while.

“so, do you think we were together?” you ask, “and be honest. i’ll know if you lie.” you search his face as he answers, and the only thing that comes up is another flinch when you talk in past tense again.

“yeah,” he says, honest. “being apart from you these past three weeks has been one of the shittiest things i’ve ever been through.”

“ever?” you ask, quirking your eyebrow, as if it isn’t somewhat true for you too.

he nods in response, continuing, “it’s been hard.” he pauses. “i’m sorry i was so shitty.”

“pretty shitty, yeah,” you agree, but you can’t hide how nice it feels to just talk with him again, to call him shitty and to sit across from him at a coffee shop table. “i’m sorry i ghosted you these past few weeks,” because it deserves to be said too.

“i really missed you,” he says, and he doesn’t hide from it. he looks you directly in your eyes and you can tell that he wants to reach across the table and hold your hand. you want that too.

“me or just, like, sleeping with me?” you ask, somewhat terrified of the answer, scanning his face for the truth once again.

he laughs softly and, try as you might, you can’t stop the fluttering in your stomach or the warmth in your cheeks hearing that for the first time in too long. “please, i haven’t thought about sleeping with you once,” he jokes.

“oh, no? not at all?” you ask, scoffing lightly, a tiny smirk threatening to break.

he forces a thoughtful frown, shakes his head dramatically and says, “can’t say that i have.” you’re laughing now, but through smile-squinted eyes you can still tell that he’s actually being genuine. “not really,” he says.

“so just me then?” you ask to make sure.

“just you,” he affirms. “a lot of just you.” you hum, content with his answer, but he gives you even more than thought he ever could, “i don’t want to just go back to the way things were. i don’t think that’s enough for me anymore.”

even though you’re sure a response like this would’ve sent waves of shock through your entire body, it doesn’t. it just feels right. you reply quickly, “good. i don’t think it’s enough for me either.” you reach across the table. the back of your hand brushes against his, and then past it. you wrap your fingers around the handle of his coffee cup and bring it to your lips.

he doesn’t protest or snatch it away from you or make a snarky comment. he places his chin in the palm of his hand, elbow against the surface of the table, and smiles at you. you take a sip from his mug, warmth spreading through every bit of your body.

why would you deprive yourself of coffee when it brings you so much comfort?

ᯓᡣ𐭩 ʙᴏɴᴜs! ʜɪɢᴜʀᴜᴍᴀ [ ɴ/ᴀ ]

you’re not exactly sure how many times something has to happen before it becomes a theme.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

“do you -huff- want to -huff- have kids someday?” higuruma asks from beneath you, palms resting on the tops of your knees, thumbs massaging up to the insides of your thighs.

you slow your bounces and then you stop them completely. you blink at him once and then twice. “that is a really wild thing to ask while you’re inside of someone,” you scoff, searching his face for any kind of tone indicator. is he being serious? is he just saying something to get a rise out of you? is this a kink thing?

he smirks, placing his hands on your hips, coaxing you to continue your movements, and you do. you lift yourself off of him, slowly at first, but then picking up speed as you chase the feeling you lost when he asked the question. you’re breathless when he asks again, the repeated question no longer stilling you. the second time around it feels almost normal. “do you?” he asks on his exhale.

you shake your head and then tilt it side to side, closing your eyes so all of the conflicting fast paced movements don’t dizzy you. “i- don’t- know-,” you huff, “maybe- conversation- for- a- different- setting.” each word is punctuated by the slap of your thighs against his hips. he nods, completely okay with that answer, and then just drops it.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

“shit,” you say in realization, hips circling, fingers combing through his hair. you pull your head away from his shoulder, pushing yourself up to look him in the eyes. “wait, how did your meeting go today?” you ask, and this time neither of you miss a beat.

when he slows to think about it, you pick up his slack, rolling your hips, feeling the drag of him inside of you, a breathy moan floating up your chest. he answers over your noises, “really good actually.”

“everything as planned?” you ask further, genuinely just as invested in this as you are in the act.

he nods, smiling. “yeah, to a t,” he says, wrapping his arms around your lower back and pulling you against his chest. he kisses the side of your temple, holding you in place with a tight grip as he lifts his hips off of the bed, thrusting into you. “surprised you didn’t ask as soon as i came through the door.”

you shake your head against his shoulder, placing a soft kiss against his collarbone. “was thinking about it all day,” you explain. he fucks into you faster in response and it feels like a reward for caring about the things that are important to him. “but when- shit- when you got home…,” you grunt, “it completely- ah, fuck- completely slipped my- ah- mind, s-sorry.”

“ts alright, pretty.” he nudges his nose against your cheek, peeling your attention to his face. your cheek rests against his shoulder and you blink at him, focus dipping from the topic at hand as you feel that familiar tightening in your core. he can see it written all over your face, so he drops his head to kiss you, silently communicating that you don’t have to worry about finishing the conversation right now. he’ll bring it up again in a bit.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

“should we get married?” he asks, back up against the headboard, looking you directly in your eyes, gaze following yours as you rise and fall.

“you are not proposing to me while i’m riding you,” you say, shaking your head, but you don’t still or slow. conversations like this in a setting like this just don’t phase you anymore. honestly, it wouldn’t surprise you if he did propose right now. you’re not even sure you’d say no.

the corner of his lip tugs upward and he exhales a laugh as he leans forward the smallest bit to kiss you. “i’m not, i’m not,” he assures, “why? would you say no?”

you’re quiet for a minute, not because you don’t know the answer, but to keep him on his toes. you won’t lie to him, you don’t think, but you don’t want to come right out and say it. his questions are rhetorical anyways, half-jokes that he’s not expecting serious answers to; you’ve known higuruma well enough and long enough to be confident of that. you could’ve replied with an eye roll and a scoff and nothing else and he would’ve dropped it. instead, however, you answer, “course not. i’d say yes in a second.”

he nearly comes inside of you right there.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

maybe it becomes a theme when someone points it out.

you can’t tell if it’s intentional or not, the way that the two of you keep having these serious conversations during sex. you know that you don’t do it on purpose; things will just hit you during the repetitive motions and you worry you’ll forget them and you know that higuruma won’t judge you for just saying them, so you do. whether this is the case for him, you’re not sure.

but the interruptions just keep getting more casual. it starts with big conversations: weddings and promotions and thoughtful decisions, and then it’s like you just start remembering things in this position: work drama and mundane did you knows. it’s almost as if starting with big topics just made it seem so easy to talk about anything like this.

it didn’t help, you think, that it’s just always easy to talk about anything with higuruma. you guys have been together, officially together, for over four years now, and conversation, no matter the topic or severity or setting, is something you’ve never struggled with. you continue to not struggle with it, inside of the bedroom and out.

you’re not sure what about the position and the moment makes you so susceptible to remembering little things that you want to tell higuruma when he’s not around, and vice versa. in fact, you’re not even convinced that it’s something about the action that jogs your memory anyway, it’s probably just a really weird and common coincidence.

and then one night you can’t find your keys.

you’ve searched everywhere for them, in your car, in your bag, every nook of your room, the places where they normally are, higuruma’s coat pocket just in case, and then everywhere else in your guys’ apartment. they’re nowhere to be seen.

when higuruma walks through the front door, even from where you’re searching in the kitchen, you hear him let out an elongated, “woah.”

you pop your head into the doorway, “don’t say anything about the mess.” you can see his eyes resting on the overturned couch cushions and then on the various opened drawers. “hey,” you warn, pointing towards him as you walk quickly into the living room. you throw your arms around him tightly and give him a small greeting peck. it’s routine at this point; if you don’t do it your whole night feels off. “i said don’t say anything.”

he lets you hang off of his neck as he puts both hands up in surrender. “i didn’t say shit,” he says, pressing a kiss into the side of your neck, then moving his hands to your waist, “the fuck happened here though?” he laughs against your skin and you can feel the vibrations travel to your fingers and toes.

you pull away from him, shaking your head. now that you’re back in the living room, it’s like you have to start this room’s search over too. you start checking under the couch and in the hall closet. “lost my fucking keys,” you grumble, smoothing your palms over your face, “i swear i’ve looked everywhere. i just can’t remember where i left them when i got home.”

“did you check th-,” he asks, walking into the kitchen, grateful that you’re not in there with him or he knows you’d yell at him for the way his eyes go wide at the clutter and chaos everywhere.

you cut him off, “wherever you’re about to say, probably yes, ughhh. i’ve retraced my steps, i’ve looked in places that are fucking stupid to look in like every pair of shoes we own and in the fucking guest bedroom pillowcases. i’ve looked everywhere.”

from where he’s stood in the kitchen now, he can see you scrambling as you vent. he leans against the wall, “well, not everywhere or you would’ve found it by now.”

“i’ll kill you,” you say, eyes snapping up to meet his to show how serious you are.

he just laughs, “i’ve got a pretty good lawyer, you might not want to do that.”

“good legal can’t help you when you’re dead,” you snap, almost completely joking. he meets you back in the living room, helping you check all the places you’ve already checked.

15 minutes pass and then 35 and then he stops abruptly. “oh my god, i have an idea,” he says, and you look at him, hopeful. “you know when you usually remember things?”

your first reaction is joking annoyance, picking up a throw pillow and sending it his way. he catches it and sets it back down on the couch. “i’m serious!” he yell-laughs.

you throw another pillow at him as your second reaction sets in. “that’s not going to fucking work,” you say.

“how do you know?” he asks.

“because,” you say, trying to come up with a good answer other than just blind doubt, “because i don’t remember things while i’m riding you. it’s not a fucking superpower.”

“you don’t know that,” he jokes back and braces to be hit with another pillow. “okay, okay, but i’m being serious! besides, what’s the worst thing that can happen? you don’t remember and we’ve had sex, how horrible,” he reasons.

you let your arms fall, pillow in your hands resting against the tops of your thighs. you look at him, thinking, which, in hindsight, was a dumb thing to do, because higuruma can see the contemplation on your face.

eight minutes later and he’s inside of you and you’re the most embarrassed you’ve ever been.

“this is so stupid,” you mumble. you haven’t moved an inch after slowly lowering yourself onto him. you’re fully seated against his hips, hands smoothing over your face and then lingering there, covering.

he reaches up, fingers soft and kind as he wraps them around your wrists, pulling them away from your face. “ts not stupid,” he reassures, but you’re not convinced. you groan, turning to look away from him, but that just won’t do. he reaches up again, soft grip on your chin coaxing your gaze back to his. “hey,” he says softly, “just focus here, angel.”

you listen, somewhat, mind still flickering back to why you’re even riding him in the first place. “just enjoy yourself, okay,” he tries again, rolling his hips upwards, pressing himself inside of you as deep as he can. you close your eyes, and it’s quite easy to just focus on the feeling of being as full as you are right now. “good,” he whispers, “just like that.”

it doesn’t take long for you to lose yourself completely, moving on your own, letting the whimpers and whines take over any other thought you might think to say, chasing that feeling rather than worrying about whatever you’ve lost.

it all kinda clicks at once: where your keys are and why you always remember shit when you’re like this.

in the midst of everyday noise, so many things get lost: important and unimportant thoughts alike. but now you’re not worried about anything else. you don’t care about anything else right now. you don’t have to. you don’t want to. and in this state of letting everything go, mindless and blissful, some things slip back through the cracks.

you collapse onto higuruma’s chest, spent and happily aware of this new revelation that you have not, for once, shared in the middle of sex, but kept quiet as a come down surprise. you hum softly as he rubs up and down your back, hum again as he presses a kiss into your forehead. “m sorry it didn’t work, angel,” he murmurs.

you turn your head, ear pressed right against his heart as you gaze up at him. “i left them in the fridge,” you reveal, and he knits his eyebrows together.

you assume that he’s going to say something about how did you leave them in the fridge? or why are they there? but instead he questions, “what? and you didn’t tell me until now?” like you’ve harbored a life long secret. you laugh softly, snaking your hands up and scratching your nails against his scalp, playing with the ends of his hair. “don’t think this is going to get you out of it,” he says, “‘ts my favorite thing when you just blurt shit while you’re on me.”

you can feel the warmth in your cheeks and your chest as you breathe a laugh. “you’ve never told me that before,” you murmur.

“think it’s cute when you just can’t wait to tell me things,” he says, “feels more intimate than being inside of you.”

“ew,” you say, scrunching up your nose, even though you weirdly agree.

he just laughs in response. a few seconds of quiet comfort pass before he backtracks, “wait, why the fuck are your keys in the fridge?”

and you tell him all about it, about the day that you’ve had and how you remembered you hadn’t drank enough water so you were refilling your bottle from the pitcher in the fridge as soon as you got home from work, but your hands were full so you set your keys on top of the leftovers from yesterday, but then you had to go and set everything down and the fridge closed and by the time you left the kitchen you remembered you needed to do something else… and it just keeps going.

you tell him as you’re taking a shower and as you’re eating dinner together and as he’s brushing his teeth and you’re washing your face and laying in bed and setting your alarms. every room in the house is a mess, but you’ll deal with that later, you decide. you rest your chin on his shoulder. “and how was your day?” you ask, even though the clock reads much later than it should for how much sleep you both should get before you’re up early for work tomorrow.

nevermind that, he decides, and tells you all about it anyways.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 ʙᴏɴᴜs! ɴᴀɴᴀᴍɪ [ ɴ/ᴀ ]

“can i ask you something and when i ask you, you’ll know i don’t mean anything bad by it at all because i love you more than everything in the world?” you ask, putting down your phone only after you’ve finished your sentence.

you wait a few seconds for nanami to take in what you’ve asked. he reaches over to the night stand for his bookmark and sticks it between the pages. he shuts it with an audible shuffling of paper and a sharp thump.

nanami has been with you long enough to not typically be surprised by your out of the blue… questions. (dronings? is there a word like droning but the connotation is more positive? like you talk at him a lot and he loves to hear the ramblings in your brain, but sometimes he is just trying to read his book before bed. whatever that word is.)

he places the book on his lap and then turns his chest towards you completely. you now have his full attention. “is that a yes?” you ask.

he inhales deeply, “if i say no, will you still ask it?”

you think on the answer to that question, really mulling it over before shaking your head. “no, i don’t think so.”

“then yes,” he smirks, “i suppose i have to say yes then.”

“great,” you say, tossing your phone onto your bedside table with a clunk. you sit up straighter, rocking forward to fully adjust your position on your side of the bed. you put your hand on his thigh and cross your legs, letting your knee rest on the side of his comforter covered hip. “do you ever regret not dating more?”

it definitely takes him by surprise. he thought you might drop another weirdly specific hypothetical about would he love you if… or request a glass of water even though you already told him tonight when he was getting into bed and he asked if you wanted one, that you did not.

now he’s the one mulling over your question and despite how nerve wracking it could be to wait for an answer to a what if that involves not you, you’re not anxious in the slightest. you’re quiet, just waiting for his answer, and when he finally speaks, you know exactly why you weren’t scared in the first place, “i’ve honestly never thought about it since i met you.”

“really?” you ask, and you’re mostly feeling very lucky that nanami is yours and you are his, but there is an underlying feeling of guilt that he’s unintentionally caused with this statement.

he nods. “sounds like you have though,” he says, and it’s not even a little bit judgmental. it sounds like he’s imploring you to keep talking, like he wants to hear exactly what you’re thinking, why you brought it up in the first place.

“i wouldn’t trade this security, this love, exactly what we have, you for anything in the world,” you start to explain, and it’s nothing but the truth, “but sometimes i just think about that first night when we were in that bar. the flirting, the risks, that feeling of not knowing where the night is going to end up. sometimes i think about that a little bit.”

he hums, thinking about that night, and after a few seconds of silence, he speaks up again, “first date nerves,” he nods, “now that i think about it, i miss those.”

you cock your head at him. that’s a weird part of dating to miss, you think, but then he explains further, “like when we went out on our first date and i didn’t know what you were going to wear or if you liked the restaurant i picked or if you’d let me pay for your food.”

“or if i’d take you back to mine,” you joke, raising your eyebrows at him, but really you’re burning inside. your cheeks feel warm just hearing about these feelings he’s never mentioned to you before.

“yeah, that too,” he laughs, getting back on track, “like, i’m still finding out new things about you all the time, but back then i was discovering who you were every second we were together, and that- that felt like…”

“like finding out soulmates were real?” you ask, because that’s what it felt like to you, that same exact phenomenon he’s describing. he smiles at you warmly, like you’ve just put to words what he felt he could only experience. “i know what you mean,” you smile.

he leans forward, cupping your cheek with his hand and guiding you towards him. he kisses you softly, placing his other hand on your other cheek and kissing you harder. “should we go on a first date again?” he asks against your lips, barely pulling away to speak.

you laugh, but when you pull away, you can tell he’s not joking. “what?” you ask, “what do you mean?” you’re already blushing though, already feeling the exact first date nerves he was just talking about.

“let’s go on a first date,” he repeats himself. “i’ll pick you up at your front door and i’ll choose the restaurant and it’ll be a surprise and i’ll ask you questions that i’d ask you on a first date even if i know the answers to all of them and more at this point.”

you’re smiling so big that your cheeks are sore as you nod fervently at the concept. “okay, yeah,” you agree.

“right, so we probably shouldn’t kiss or make out or sleep with each other until then to really play into the whole thing?” he teases, and you roll your eyes in response.

“you’re very funny, kento,” you say, leaning in, brushing your nose against his. he doesn’t even last a second, closing the gap with a small peck and then another and then another and then a much longer one and then he’s putting the book on his nightstand so he can pull you into his lap.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

you get a text 5 minutes before 7 that nanami is going to be 3 minutes late picking you up. the text looks a little weird underneath a thread of:

>> nami <3 >> how’s work baby

<< read << if you love me you’ll come and pull the fire alarm to get me out of here early :) :) :)

>> nami <3 >> fine but that’s a class four felony in some cases. will you be providing legal assistance or should i look elsewhere????

<< read << how do u know that?? nerd!!!

>> nami <3 >> google tbh.

<< read << wow. first i have to stay at work all day alone and sad and now i get to know my bf isn’t sexy and off the dome smart about everything. :(

>> nami <3 >> goodbye.

<< read << :(

>> nami <3 >> i love you

<< read << :)

you bite back the urge to reply with something you’d say to him after knowing him for years. rereading the text and thinking back to your first date, it makes you giggle. actually, it makes you kinda nervous. you text back a polite no worries! take your time! and he replies with a heart and you truly feel like you’re dating for the first time again. you feel honest to god giddy.

arriving to the restaurant, you are genuinely surprised. you thought after knowing him as long as you have and having gone to as many restaurants with him as you have, you’d go back to somewhere nice you’ve already been. but that isn’t the case.

he drives you to a pop-up restaurant 20 minutes out of town that you’ve never even heard of, but is the cutest place you’ve ever been, and the entire time he can’t stop sneaking respectful glances at you. he won’t stop telling you how nice you look. he even apologizes for it by the sixth time, pushing your chair in at the restaurant saying, “i know i keep mentioning it, and i’m sorry, but if i said it every time i thought it, it’d be a never ending string.”

if he keeps this up, you’re going to feel like you’re cheating. this seriously feels like a first date, like you’ve been in a relationship for over 5 years and you’re also going on a first date and it’s really messing with your head, but you never want it to stop.

he stays true to his word, asking you questions he already knows the answers to, but hearing them again, they sound brand new. he doesn’t know if he’s just forgotten some of them or if the testaments of time have weathered your answers just enough to sound unfamiliar, but either way, he’s hanging on to every word.

by the end of the night, you’ve truly convinced yourself that there are stakes to this date, like if you play your cards wrong, you won’t get to keep seeing this incredible guy. he pays the whole bill, even though you insist on getting your meal or at the very least dessert. he says, “you can try next time too.” and you can’t breathe, you feel so lucky.

“i’m sorry if this seems forward, but i’d really like to keep seeing you tonight,” you say as the waiter takes away the paid bill, and your heart is thumping so violently against your chest, you swear he can feel it too.

he shakes his head, “perfectly forward,” he smiles, “your place or mine?” you break character for the first time tonight, giggling at the reality of the question, hiding behind your hand as you do. “what’s so funny?” he asks, but he’s grinning just as big as you are.

“just thinking about how dreary my life would be if i hadn’t gone on this first date,” you say, and it’s a little too meta, but he’ll let it slide, because he’s a bit flustered at the sentiment. “mine is great,” you answer, placing your hand on his, rubbing the tips of your fingers against his knuckles.

everything about the rest of the night feels like a first too. it feels like your first kiss in front of your front door. it feels like he’s seeing “your” apartment for the first time. it feels like you’re making out on your couch for the first time.

it feels like the first time he’s ever been inside of you.

when he pushes deeper into you, eyes on yours shut tight, you tell yourself that you want to pretend you’re on a first date every single day of your life. you can’t stop whimpering, pleading for him to never stop fucking you ever, please don’t stop, please never fucking stop.

you break character for the second time when you’re right on the edge. he keeps looking down at you with so much love in his eyes and his hands all over you feel like they know every inch of you, and you can’t stop yourself. you grab his face in your hands, “kento, baby, please, ‘m gonna- ‘m sorry, i- fuck, please. i love you, fuck,” you whine, and he can’t stop himself either, hips stuttering, head falling against your shoulder as he feels you clenching around him as he empties himself inside of you, murmuring how much he loves you right back.

the way you’ve been feeling all night: blissful and coy, it’s not because it’s a first date, it’s because he’s nanami. it’s because he’s orchestrated the entire night and no matter how “new” everything feels, the underlying foundation of that newness, and the reason everything feels so good, is familiarity and safety.

“i’m sorry that i-,” you breathe, but he stops you, reaching his hand up to drag his fingertips against your lips, and you laugh, pressing a soft kiss into them. “okay, okay,” you say, and he places his hand back down by his side. “done with the first date stuff, just want to be yours again,” you murmur.

he scoffs, light, and you can hear his smile in it. he falls over onto his back, pulling you into his chest and kissing the top of your head. “never weren’t,” he mumbles against your hair. “always will be,” he mumbles again, holding you tighter.

“good,” you say back, settling into his arms like that’s the only thing you know to be true in the entire world. you wouldn’t trade that truth for a million first dates.

sure, holding your breath at quick witted flirts and stolen glances is nice, but it’s a lot nicer just knowing that you will never be loved better and you will never love harder.

♡ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢs ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴs ᴍᴇᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ♡ no bc the yelling really worked very well idk yell at me more to write a continuation for toji (maybe also gojo bc hes the only one i havent written even an inkling of smut for) idk i'm just thinking of so many scenes idk throw hcs at me in my inbox IDK! toji dating for the first time? got me fucked UP

ᡣ𐭩 ᴛᴀɢs ᡣ𐭩 @igocrazyeveryday @vernasce-blogs @minty86 @abrielletargaryen @pompompompompompompom @mysticrays @lilolpotato @thisisew @pnkoo @optimisticsandwichgladiator @ryumurin @cisseadven @multi-fandom-fanfic @noosayog @anxious-chick @mintleafwrites @(tried to tag some other folks but couldnt!!)

#jjk x reader #jjk smut #toji x reader #gojo x reader #geto x reader #geto smut #toji smut #gojo smut #nanami x reader #nanami smut #higuruma x reader #higuruma x reader smut #higuruma smut #nanami x reader smut #jjk x reader smut #actually not really tbh theres no smut in tojis or gojos cant even lie #toriwritesshit

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apute11as · 16 days

Text

Everything happens for a reason part 5 - Alexia Putellas x pregnant!reader

Summary: the world cup final holds some bumps and bruises.

Warnings: angst, blood, injury (all resolved don’t worry!!)

Notes: We pretend alexia played the full 90 of the final… and assisted the winner🤫and no R*biales situation. ALSO deepest apologies for how inactive i’ve been, i have been busy but… i’ve also been lazy i’ll try and be better from now on im sorry!! ❤️

⭐️My requests are open!

Other parts here!!

~~~~

Things had been a lot calmer since yours and Alexia’s phone call. The morning sickness and overall fatigue was ever present but the mind numbing arguing had subsided. Alexia still wasn’t overly impressed that you were still playing, as you were nearing the end of your first trimester. The management staff now knew about your pregnancy but after a medical checkup and lots of reassuring, they cleared you to complete the tournament.

The World Cup final was soon and you’d just finished the match that saw you get through. As the final whistle blew, relief flooded your system at the win.

“YES WE’RE THROUGH Y/N!” Screamed Mary, picking you up and hoisting you onto her back.

“I know I can’t believe it!!” You shouted back

The rest of the girls were celebrating as you remained on the goalkeeper’s back, her carrying you around like a carriage.

“Oi careful Mearps don’t want to damage the little princesa!” Bellowed Lucy, upon seeing you on her back.

You were pretty sure Alexia had threatened Lucy in some way in order for her to look out for you whilst Alexia couldn’t. You couldn’t go a day without the older brunette either piling extra food onto your plate, shouting at someone for touching you lightly or simply calling the baby “La princesa”.

——

Later that evening, you were splayed across Lucy’s bed, Alessia beside you as the two of you had decided to bombard the older girl until she agreed to let you come in. A Disney movie was playing in the background as you rested your head in Alessia’s lap, your hand absentmindedly tracing patterns on your small bump.

“Ughh why are my tits so sore!” You groaned

“I don’t think your wife would be too happy about me partaking in a conversation about your tits” joked Lucy sarcastically.

“oh shut up! Everything just hurts all the time now, my whole body just kills, especially after the matches” you whined.

“Old age feels the same” laughed Lucy.

“Well both of you are complaining an awful lot considering we only have the final to go, surely that’s exciting no?” added Alessia

“I mean sure it’s exciting but i’m not really looking forward to playing against my wife and half of our team”

“Yeah me neither honestly” agreed Lucy

“Ugh you’re both so miserable, we’ve made it to our first world cup final!” Alessia insisted

“I can’t wait to go home honestly” you began. “I mean obviously I’d love for us to win and this tournament has been incredible, but I just miss my wife and my dog” you explained, eyes filling with tears.

“Oh honey are you crying?” Alessia asked, pulling you into her embrace

“shut up i’m not crying” you huffed in disgust, causing alessia to squeeze you harder. “it’s the baby it’s not me” you sobbed

“look at that la reina is controlling you through her spawn even when she’s not here” bellowed lucy

“Piss off bronze” you sulked

———

Training leading up to the final was exhausting to say the least, and it really wasn’t helped by the helicopter parenting you got from half of the team, regarding the baby. The running joke of you “carrying the heir to the throne” caught on quick, even Sarina had played into it, which really didn’t help the teasing you were already receiving from the girls.

Alexia had managed to call you every day recently, inquiring after the health of her “princesas” and somehow managing to hover more than anyone, despite not even being there in person. That is how you found yourself, the day before the final on the phone to your wife, despite you both swearing not to speak to each other before the match.

“Yes Alexia i have been eating well” you huffed

“Are you sure mi amor? How is the sickness?” she replied

“Still exists but it’s definitely better now, it’s only in the morning so it’s not draining me quite as much.”

“That’s good bebita, how are you feeling about tomorrow?” Your wife questioned with a frown.

“Hey i thought we agreed, no football talk” you asked, raising your eyebrows.

“sí but i couldn’t resist mi amor, it won’t leave my mind”

“i know Ale but just think, after tomorrow we’ll be together again, regardless of the result” you smiled

“i miss you so much” she sighed

“i miss you too baby” you agreed

———

Dinner that evening was tense, it was evident that despite the excitement in the air at the prospect of a world cup final, the anxiety levels were also high. Even Georgia who was infamous for her inability to keep quiet, was relatively subdued. A strange sense of dread overcame your body as you realised your little bubble would burst as soon as the World Cup was over. Which was not to say that that you didn’t miss your wife because you most definitely did but you knew that this would almost certainly be your last game of competitive football before the baby arrived which was bittersweet when you really thought about it.

“How you feeling darling?” Questions Mary, lightly bumping your hip as she passed her plate onto the chef to be loaded.

“Nervous but excited i think” you half laughed.

“You’ll be amazing, you’ve saved us multiple times in this tournament. I know how hard it’ll be to be up against her but you deserve it y/n! Celebrate that regardless of the result tomorrow”

“You always know what to say Mary” you smiled, bringing the older woman into a hug.

You hadn’t slept so well since the tournament has started, sometimes all that was needed was a friend.

The journey to the match saw you receiving a good luck text from many people, one of which being your mother in law. Although you knew she’d be supporting Spain, as would Alba, you knew that the pair would be proud of both you and Alexia regardless of the result.

——

The bus arrived at the ground after a short 30 minute drive, something you were thankful for as that pregnancy travel sickness was no joke. You were seated next to Alessia much to your delight, the younger girl had been nothing but supportive of you the entire tournament. Ella and Mary were sat opposite you two on the table, playing a rather competitive game of uno.

“You ready?” Alessia sighed as she stood up.

“As ready as i’ll ever be” you said, mirroring her sigh.

“LETS GO GIRLS!” Bellowed Ella, the brunette forever having no filter.

You stepped off the bus, only to be greeted by masses of fans behind the gates, waiting to cheer you in. Many of those fans were adorned in Spanish shirts, likely hoping to get a video of you, Lucy and Keira as you noticed a couple of them with Barça scarves around their necks.

You smiled as you high-fived the row of mascot children to your right, carrying a bottle of water in your other hand.

As you found your way to the changing room, the atmosphere started to sink in as you realised you were actually at a world cup final, something that 5 year-old you had dreamed of since the day your idols Ronaldinho and Rivaldo had stepped onto that same stage 21 years ago.

Pitch inspection was up next as you wandered beside your captain with her reminding you of formation and reassuring you of your importance to the team throughout the tournament. You looked across the pitch and saw the Spanish team doing the same thing, wondering whether or not it would be appropriate to go and greet them.

Lucy being Lucy, beat you to that thought as she bounded over in the direction of Ona and your recognisably pink-haired girlfriend. Alexia was adorned in a navy blue tracksuit that proudly (or rather not so) displayed the RFEF emblem on her heart.

You wandered over, slightly more carefully than your counterpart, locking eyes with your wife as she looked up from her phone. Her gaze softened as it met yours, the both of you knowing that a conversation would result in tears, no matter the nature of it. Instead, you chose a simple hug, a hug that said more than words ever could. One of her arms was settled on your back, the other reached gently over your hoodie to caress the small bump that formed there.

“I love you” she whispered softly in your ear.

“Te amo” you responded, before breaking the hug and wandering back over to join the rest of your teammates, knowing you both needed the focus before the match and any further interaction would have to wait for the sake of concentration.

Upon reaching the dressing room, you began to change into your warmup kit, placing your hands where your wife’s have been just moments ago and smiling.

“Starting to show are we?” Questioned Leah with a smirk

“Hmm yes a little” you smiled

“How do you feel seeing her?” She inquired after Alexia

“Honestly relieved to be with her again” you sighed

“Well that’s good darling, we’ve got a game to win now come on!” She cheered as she dragged you by the arm, onto the pitch.

——

You readied yourself into position, you spared a simple glance at your wife, knowing that regardless of the result today you would end up in her arms and that thought alone was enough to calm some of the nerves currently enveloping your body. You glanced into the stadium briefly, scanning the crowd where your gaze met your mother and sister in law, cheering frantically. You noticed that Alba was in fact wearing an England scarf on top of her Spain jersey, a detail that made you grin slightly at her love.

The game kicked off relatively fast paced with Spain holding much of possession but luckily the majority of that possession was through their defence and midfield and far from your backline. The actual tempo of the game was relatively calm with the majority of Spain’s attacking opportunities being closed down through the talented midfield and sharp defence that England possessed.

However this all but changed in the 29th minute as Lucy made a risky run out into the middle and you were torn between covering her and staying on Jenni as she’d positioned herself perfectly onside, ready to receive any loose ball that came her way and likely put it in the net, knowing the talented feet of the 33 year old. Ultimately you stood your ground with Jenni, calling on Georgia to come back and cover. Before Georgia could grasp what you were saying over the volume of the crowd, Spain had regained possession via Alexia as she slotted a pass of pin point accuracy across to Olga Carmona who running at full speed down the wing, the wing in which Lucy should reside. Damn Lucy Bronze and her spontaneous spurts of energy. Your legs moved faster than your mind as you raced across the pitch, attempting to thwart Spain’s promising attack but before you could get there, Carmona struck the ball with a perfection that many could only dream of. You watched as the ball soared across the goal, straight at the right post and hit the back of the net as Mary stretched out fully.

The save never came.

Everything went silent.

Spain had scored and there was nothing you could do about it.

Your ears tuned back into reality as you watched Olga lift her shirt to reveal a message in celebration, you watched as her teammates, including your wife, rushed to pile her into a group hug. You watched as your own teammates sauntered back to the half way line in despair, knowing that your decision to stick back could’ve been the decider that cost a goal in potentially the most important game of your career.

Despite all this, you couldn’t help but feel a warmth inside you as you saw Alexia, the look of pure passion and happiness on her face, a look you missed seeing when she played. Your wife had assisted the goal to put her team ahead in a World Cup final and despite it being against your beloved England, you couldn’t help but feel a small sense of joy for the woman you loved.

——

Half time couldn’t have come any sooner as you wiped your brow and plodded off the field, exhausted from both the physical and emotional battles that the first half had brought.

The dressing room was tense, Sarina was in the centre of it offering a motivating team talk, a team talk you payed little attention to as all you could think about was how you selfishly hoped she’d pull you off at half time. You’d never ask to come off but if she did decide to take you off in that moment, you couldn’t help but feel you’d be happy for the rest as the pregnancy was seriously impacting your energy levels.

To your disappointment, your prayers were not answered and you were forced to likely endure another 45 minutes of football, despite the ache that persisted throughout your body. You gathered into the huddle of your teammates, just as the second half was about to commence.

“You alright y/n?” Asked Lucy, concern etched in her face

“Mhm just a little exhausted” you assured the older woman

“Well vamos chica let’s kick some Spanish ass!” Cheered Lucy, as the huddle broke up and everyone returned to their positions.

——

The second half started slowly with near enough no excitement, England has their chances throughout but none of them connected, hitting the crossbar or going just wide every time.

That didn’t stop Spain from fighting for a second all throughout, a second they might be coming close to.

Aitana dribbled through the English midfield as if they were cones in her training drill, leaving each one for dead and proceeding to boot in your direction. You met her run, using your body to shield your goal as she curved to the left, in an attempt to foil you but you stood your ground. Hands behind your back, body perfectly positioned as you blocked her powerful cross that would’ve found Jenni, unmarked in the box had it not been for your body. The ball went out for a corner as you let out a small sigh of relief which didn’t last long as you moved to mark none other than your wife on the edge of the box.

“Hola bebita” alexia grinned, in an attempt to distract you

“Shut up Putellas” you countered, causing her to roll her eyes and laugh from behind you, where her body was flush against your back, albeit a little softer than usual. Likely due to the precious cargo you carried.

Mariona aligned herself at an angle with the corner flag, holding one arm in the air to signal the corner routine.

A split second later she struck her foot to release the ball, a ball heading in your direction. You jumped and full power, in an attempt to beat a most definitely taller Alexia to the ball. Alexia jumper almost in sync, mind set on nothing but ensuring the ball reached the back of the net. However, neither of you made it to the ball and Alexia’s head collided sharply with the back of your head, causing a wave of pain to wash over you and your whole body to crumple forwards due to the shock, Alexia landing half on top of you.

You screamed out in pain as everything went black.

“Y/N!” Screamed Mary as she watched blood drip from your head.

“MEDIC NOW!” Yelled Lucy as the medical staff came rushing over to your unconscious form.

Alexia rubbed her head in pain as she sprung up at the commotion, met with the sight of her wife bleeding on the floor. Her pregnant wife, hurt, because if her. Reality kicked in at that moment.

“No no no no mi amor.” She pleaded “Lo siento, lo siento” she beckoned as she crouched down, eyes wide in horror at the sight in front of her.

She felt an arm grip her shoulder and pull her back and was met with the faces of Chloe Kelly and Lauren James as they shoved her away, screaming abuse in her face.

You’d regained consciousness as this point as the medics shone a light in your face and began assessing the wound.

“She’s pregnant” Mary announced to the medics, as they nodded with a look of pure worry that elicited a sinking feeling in the stomachs of those present.

Your teammates huddled close by, with concern present on all of their faces. Alexia fought her way back through pleading to you.

“Go away Alexia” was all you could manage before you slipped back out of consciousness.

Alexia’s heart broke at the sight, you blamed her, you thought she’d done it on purpose, shock set into her body as she watched in horror as the medical team loaded you onto a stretcher and stretched you off to medical.

“¡Quiero ir con ella!” Alexia demanded towards Vilda who shook his head and began lecturing her in Spanish. She protested consistently but eventually agreed to play the final 10 minutes, out of fear of punishment, not to herself by the younger players, should she argue any further.

The final whistle felt like an eternity later. Alexia having done nothing but fight the urge to run off the pitch in the final 10 minutes. Spain had won the World Cup but Alexia had no desire to celebrate with her team, all she wanted was to run to her wife and ensure you and the baby were okay. She was stopped by a firm grip on her hands as Vilda shoved her in the direction of the team. She shoved him right back, a moment she knew would be plastered all over social media later. A problem that could wait for the future.

As she was stopped again, Alexia spotted her mother in the crowd and signalled for her to find you and her mother did so, barging past security and into the tunnel.

Alexia slipped past everyone, ignoring the beckoning of the Spanish staff and bolted into the tunnel, knowing that the media would tear her apart later, calling her “cocky” “overrated” and “ungrateful” for her obvious disinterest in the trophy and general celebration but she did not care. The only thing on her mind in that moment was her family. No medal, trophy or football game was more important that you or her child.

After a frantic search she located you, accompanied by your medical staff and her mother and sister.

“Mi Estella, lo siento mucho” she pleaded, tears welling in her eyes

“I know Ale you didn’t mean it” you mumbled weakly

“No of course not amor! Are you okay? El bebé? Is the baby okay?” She rambled, ignoring the look of pure shock on her mother and sister’s face.

“We’re running tests now, just prepping an ultra sound machine” informed one of the doctors, as he squirted a blue gel across the gentle curve of your stomach.

“I’m so sorry querida” tears were streaming now “I hurt you! I hurt our bebita” she spluttered cupping your face as you felt the doctor begin to move the probe over your stomach.

“Ale no it’s okay, i’m okay look” you gestured towards the ultrasound machine

A steady heart beat filled the room.

A grainy image of your baby filled the screen.

The baby was okay.

“Oh, gracias a Dios” her mother exclaimed, relieved at the health of her grandchild that she’d only learnt existed moments ago.

“YOU’RE PREGNANT?!” Yelled Alba

“Sí lo siento for not telling you both, I found out during the tournament, we’ve been trying for months” you smiled, tears in your eyes.

The ultrasound technician wiped the gel with a tissue before printing out several copies of the image.

Your wife was unbelievably silent, staring, mouth wide at the ultrasound.

“Alexia” you called

“Te quiero más que a nada” she breathed. “I’m so sorry mi amor, I’ve missed you so much” she placed a gentle kiss to your lips, squeezing your hands firmly with her sweaty ones, before she placed a second kiss to your bump.

“I’m so glad we’re together again mi vida” you replied with a smile, touching your foreheads together.

“I so hope it’s a girl so she can be alba junior!” Raved the younger Putellas sister

“ALBA!” Alexia and Eli retorted simultaneously.

~~~~~

Thank you so much for reading this series, please send any requests in my inbox and any feedback too i love you all <3

#woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso #barca femeni x reader #barcelona femeni x reader #barcelona femeni #fc barcelona

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saberlight1 · 6 months

Text

exes and oh’s — billy the kid

pairing: billy bonney x fem!reader

warnings: mentions of violence, Y/N usage, established relationship, possessive!billy, arguments, standard billy the kid warnings.

authors note: im starting to think i have a problem.. 3 fics in one day lmfao. this one was based off of this request— thank you anon. i hope you all enjoy this one <33

masterlist

Ever since the day Billy had asked you to be his, he had thought the constant bugging of men around you would come to an end. But it seemed to be that the Bonney man only noticed those men’s stares towards you even more.

He sat at the bar you currently worked as he watched yet another man eye you from the corner of the room. It made his blood boil, his knuckles turning white from the harsh grip on his shot glass.

“Baby, leave the glass alone.” You teased with that charming smile that made him weak in the knees. “It ain’t done nun’ to ya,”

He put it down, your soft southern accent making his anger simmer down in a instant. “Sorry, honey.”

“What’s got you starin’ daggers over there?” You re-poured his now empty glass with whiskey.

“Them men starin’ at you.” His eyes darkened as he looked at you through his brows, his fingertips circling the rim of the shot glass.

Your tongue darted out across your bottom lip at his admission, his words making a deep want towards your outlaw settle in your gut knowing how protective he was of you.

“They can look all they want, darlin’.” You tried to ease his anger. “You’re the only one that I’d ever let touch me— you know that.”

“It’s not you I don’t trust.” He leaned back, his eyes boring into yours. “It’s them.”

“Hey, foxy..” One of the men he was talking about now stood in front of you, slurring his words. “You’re mighty fine, mind if we.. talk somewhere privately?” He winked, making you want to throw up. “I’d love to see how you look under them fine clothes of yours,”

You looked him up and down in disgust. “I’m alright, sir. Got someone else in mind for tonight,” You looked at Billy from the corner of your eye— your cowboy smirking up at you. You sighed as you went to grab the drunken man’s glass to refill— he was still a customer after all.

His grueling grip caught your wrist before you could even grab it— almost pulling you over the bar.

“You little bitch, can’t take a real man, huh?” He spat as you let out a yelp, trying to get out of his grasp.

“Back the fuck off.” Billy’s menacing figure appeared from beside the man, throwing the man back by his shoulder, causing him to fall on his ass.

He groaned, but was back on his feet within seconds. “The fuck it mean to you, huh? I wan’ her, so she’s mine.”

The second the man finished his sentence, Billy’s fast fist made contact with his jaw hard, the man being back to his spot on the floor. “Don’t you ever fuckin’ say those words about her.” He hissed, leaning down to place more punches to the man’s bloodied face. You watched in a mixture of horror and admiration— mostly admiration.

The man below him only let out a cackle in return. “Oh, I see. She’s your whore,” He spat blood into Billy’s face, and you swore the whole room stopped at his words.

Billy’s cocked back arm stopped at his words, and within seconds his pistol was pointed at the man’s forehead. “What did you just say?” He yelled. “I’ll fuckin’ kill you—”

You grabbed his forearm, pulling him back up. “Billy, please—” He turned to you, panting as you tried to calm that wild look in his eye. “That piece of shit ain’t worth it, c’mon, baby.” Your eyes flickered between his, and after a moment, he sighed before relenting and putting the gun away.

“Yeah, gotta get your bitch to sort out your favors—” The man continued to talk shit, but Billy cut him off with a swift kick to the ribs.

“Shut the fuck up,” Billy rasped out, looking down upon the man.

“C’mon,” You pulled his hand, taking him to the room in the back. You were glad it was around last call— the bar being mainly empty. You sat him down on some old crates before you turned to grab the spare med-kit you had hidden back there months prior.

Once you had everything ready, you held your hand out, signaling Billy to hand you his cut and bruised knuckles. He did, knowing better than to argue with you on the matter.

Your heart sank in your chest when you first saw them. “Billy, you’ve gotta stop gettin’ into fights over me.” You whispered, your eyes not leaving his hand.

His other hand reached out to angle your jaw so your eyes would met his. “Darlin’, I’m never gon’ stop fightin’ for you. You know that.” He shook his head with a smile. “He ain’t even get a lick in— I’m fine.”

“I know you can handle yourself.” You said. “I just don’t like seein’ you hurt. Regardless of how bad— I don’t like it. Nor do I like watchin’ you put yourself in danger for me.”

His gaze lowered. “Now, lady, let’s not pretend you haven’t done the same. I’ve witnessed some pretty crazy cat fights after hours at the boardin’ house,” He teased, his hand now cupping your jaw.

You sighed, trying to fight back the smile that threatened to break free. “Jus’ please, be careful.”

“Always am.” He leaned forward to kiss the frown off your face, his hands sliding down your body in order to squeeze your hips.

Your arms wrapped around his neck, drawing him closer to your body as you smiled against his lips.

He pulled back, leaning his forehead onto yours. You both sat there for a couple of moments, enjoying the comfortable silence.

You placed one last kiss to his plump lips. “Alright, let me see that hand of yours.” You asked, and when he placed it into yours, you got to work. You disinfected and bandaged it to ensure it wouldn’t get an infection. “That should do it,” You whispered as you finished tying the cloth, leaning down to press a kiss to his knuckles. “Thank you for defendin’ me, honey.”

You swore that even in the darkness of the room you were currently in that you could see his cheeks turn a light shade of pink. “I’m always gon’ defend you, baby.” He whispered, pulling you up by your hand to place you in his lap, his arms slithering around you as he placed a kiss to your cheek. He went quiet for a moment before he turned to grab something. You looked at him questionably when you saw that glint in his eye.

He smirked as he placed his signature hat onto your head. “There.” He admired his work as he fixed your hair, styling it to compliment the hat. “That should tell all those fuckers that you’re mine.”

Your teeth sunk into his bottom lip at his words as your eyes flickered between his. “I wouldn’t have it any other way,” You whispered, the tip of his hat hitting his head as you leaned in to reconnect your lips again.

He didn’t mind— He thought it looked better on you anyways.

#anon asks #tbosas #coriolanus snow #billy antrim #billy bonney x fem reader #billy antrim x reader #billy bonney #billy the kid #billy bonney x reader #billy the kid x reader #billy the kid gifs #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth #coriolanus snow x reader #coryo snow #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #william h bonney #william h bonney x reader

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lowkeyremi · 1 year

Note

OK HEAR ME OUT! Reader who is a single mother of one of Aizawa’s students X Aizawa???? PLEASE I need it!

IM IN LOVE WITH YOU YES OMG I NEED THIS anon im giving you kisses rn

Aizawa x fem!reader (also your denki's mom bc why not)

A small sigh escapes your lips as you pull into the parking lot of your son's school, it's still early in the year and his teacher has requested to meet with you.

He doesn't even have to explain why you're here because you already have a good idea: Denki's grades.

You smooth out your skirt and double check that your blouse is buttoned all the way. Security stopped you at the gate which took around ten minutes to defuse, they honestly thought you looked too young to be anyone's mother.

Thirty-two is a bit young to have a fifteen year old but you know how it goes: unprotected sex = baby. It's the same old story, your boyfriend freaked out and dipped on you.

It made you proud Denki got into a school like this, your goal is for him to further his education... something you never got the chance to do.

Finding his classroom was a whole other situation. UA is HUGE. So poor you is walking around every corner looking for class "1-A".

"Are you lost?" A voice loud and energetic asked, it caused you to jump in your skin. When you turn your head you see blond hair sticking upward toward the ceiling and a pair of goofy shades. He notices your giggle and quirks an eyebrow.

"Are you a new student?!" The blond questions, his face is full of energy and excitement.

"No.. do I really look that young?" You ask, smile bright.

"You do look pretty young." As soon as he says that it dawns on him that you might be a younger mother.

"Ah- sorry! I just-"

"Don't worry about it. I was actually looking for class 1-A, my son's teacher requested to meet with me." His eyes widen.

"Don't you worry, I can take you to Eraserhead's class!" With that you follow him down a flight of stairs and you guys turn like four corners. Well damn, you were way off.

You had been too caught up into your thoughts to realize he stopped, you bumped right into him.

"Sorry." He gives you a soft smile, "It's nothing!"

He knocks loudly, "Oh, Eraser! You have a visitor!" The blond doesn't even wait for a response to open the door, he just bursts in.

"Well I've gotta go now! Take care Miss..."

"L/n, the name's L/n." A thumbs up is sent your way before the loud blond man leaves.

A deep voice causes your brain to stir, "Thank you for coming on such a short notice, Miss L/n."

And what the fuck because Denki's teacher has beautiful long black hair, stubble, and a little scar under his right eye. He must be married you assume, because no way a handsome man like him is single.

You respond with confidence in your voice, "Of course, I apologize for keeping you waiting. I got lost."

His face softens as he motions for you to sit on the chair he's placed by his desk.

"Understandable, UA is not small. Let's get down to business, shall we?" He sits at his desk, organizing some papers before handing you a few. You feared the worst, Denki always strived to do his best so you shouldn't have anything to even fear.

"My students have been under attack a few times by villians, we've spoke to the board about the situation, because parents are worried about their children." You were relieved this had nothing to do with his grades but it scared you that villians were out for high schoolers.

"I thought the attacks stopped." Aizawa nods at you.

"They have for the time being but we fear they won't completely stop, which is why UA is building a dormitory system to keep students safe. What I've handed you is the consent form for your son to live on campus. It's not manditory but it is highly suggested." He explains to you and you read the pages.

"How do I know Denki will be in good hands?" You ask biting your lip, it doesn't go unnoticed by Aizawa because his eyes flicker to your lips then back up to your face.

"I understand what it's like to lose someone close to you, which is why I put so much effort and care into my students, they may say and think otherwise but they don't see what happens behind the scenes." You could tell his words were sincere, it wasn't convincing enough though. You worry too much about him and just the mere thought of losing him is enough to scare you.

Aizawa leans in to place a hand on yours, it feels tingly.

"I know all you have is my word to go off of, but I promise you I will protect your son and all my other students with my life." His eyes burn into yours. You get lost in those beautiful black eyes.

"Uh- hah. I'll look over the papers."

In the end you sign the papers.

"Mom you have to tell me who's taking you to dinner!" Denki says for the millionth time over the phone. You call him almost every night to check in on him.

"It's none of your business, young man." You'd tell him when you were ready. Just... not now. He'd freak out if he knew you were going out to dinner with his teacher.

Before you left that day, Aizawa asked for your number. You happily gave it to him, there was no way in hell you'd miss out on a chance like that.

After a month of just talking (and flirting) he asked you out for dinner, you agreed of course.

"But mommmmmm why nottttttt?" Denki whined.

"I'll tell you when we're ready. Anyways I have to go. Take care, sweetheart." He sighs but tells you he loves you. "I love you too, Denki." He hangs up, leaving you to finish your makeup.

The plan was originally to meet at dinner, but Aizawa was not letting up until you agreed that he could pick you up.

Your hands were starting to sweat again. It's normal to be this nervous, right? Dating hadn't really been in your line of vision while raising a child. It seemed to be the same process: go out with someone, get along nicely, start developing real feelings, they find out you have a son, they leave.

It seemed refreshing to finally go out with someone who knew you were raising a young man. Waiting it out seems to have been the right choice. Aizawa is a mature man.

The door bell rings and you shoot up out of your seat like a rocket.

"Fuckfuckfuckfuck, I look okay right?" It felt weird to ask your reflection, but self love is everything these days.

Your burgundy v cut dress was a bit on the short side, it hugged your body which made you a little insecure. You'd heard some women say pregnancy made them glow. You were convinced otherwise, it took you some time to finally feel beautiful.

Your walk to the door was dreadful, what if he takes it all back? Upon opening the door he was standing there in all his beauty. His raven colored hair was put up in a messy bun, his stubble cleaned up some, and he looked a little less tired. Your eyes inched down his body, he's wearing a white button up and black slacks.

"You're beautiful." The two of you say at the same time. Your eyes widen.

"Thank you, I was actually kind of nervous." His face softens at your words. The hero holds his hand out so you can take it. Just like the last time his hand was warm and made you feel tingly. You chuckled at how dumb that sounded, definitely sounds like something from a cheesy romance novel.

Dinner was a little awkward but beyond amazing. A waitress spilled wine on you, she apologized like a million times. You weren't mad though, having a son meant many messes were made... especially on you. The wine didn't stain that bad because of your dress color.

Aizawa offered you the jacket he kept in his car. Accepting it was a no brainer. He held it out for you and you gave him a confused look.

"I'll put it on you, come here." His voice was low and seductive. He noticed your smile. "You're so cute." He whispers as you put your arms in the jacket sleeves.

"Only cute?" Your question was followed by your signature smirk. The food was paid for, his hand wrapped around your waist and he walked you two to his car.

"Sexy, funny, chatty.... I could go on." He says with a smug smile.

"Oh stop it, I'm not sexy-" You don't get to finish your sentence, Aizawa twirls you around so you guys are facing each other. His hands rest on your hips for a second and in a flash he's cupping your face.

Your heart started beating a mile per minute... no second. He slowly pulls you in, those lazy eyes looking into yours. His lips look so kissable.

You pucker your lips and he presses his lips to yours, there weren't any fireworks or sparks like in Disney movies, it felt like he was one with you. Your body was connected to his in a way.

When the kiss is over he's staring at you, "you are sexy, I don't know who's lied to you."

__________

When he pulls into your driveway, you realize this date is almost over. Hopefully he'll agree to going out again. He seemed to enjoy the night as much as you did.

He walked you up to your door, eyes trained on you.

Your feet stop on your doormat. It felt like you were stuck in cement.

"Will I be seeing you again, Aizawa?"

"Call me Shota, and yes, I'll be seeing you again." He faces you and kisses you again. A sigh of relief escapes your lips.

"Call me." You say and he hums in acknowledgement.

Maybe... trying again at dating won't hurt you.

Hiii anon, I hope you like this!! I don't think this has been my best work but I think it shouldn't be that bad? Lol imagine how Denki would react when he finds out you're with his teacher. Love you guys, working on Teacher's Assistant ch. 1

#bnha #mha #aizawa #aizawa shōta #aizawa shouta #aizawa x reader #shota aizawa x reader #aizawa shota x reader #shouta aizawa #mha aizawa #shota aizawa #aizawa shouta x reader

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hannieehaee · 5 months

Note

hi! i wanted to request seungcheol x reader based off of ‘how you get the girl’ by taylor swift? thank you!

content: inspired by 'how you get the girl' by taylor swift, angsty, fight between reader and cheol implied, fluff ending, etc.

wc: 738

a/n: ive never rlly listened to taylor before so im sorry if i took the lyrics out of context i tried to research the meaning of the song but i wasnt 100% sure T-T anyways tysm for requesting sorry i took so long <3

masterlist

seungcheol knew he had royally fucked up.

the details didn't matter now. it had been a while now – six months to be exact – and he still couldnt get over you. he'd see you around town occasionally, and you'd look perfectly fine. how could you be fine when he was so empty without you in his life? were you really better off without him?

he tried to move on, he really did, but no one was like you. the type of love you had was the type he wanted to be his endgame. there was no question about it. which was why he needed to fix his this.

it started with attempts to be in the same spaces as you again. he would find out where you'd be from mutual friends (okay, a little stalkerish, but it was fine!) and make sure to be in attendance to any party you'd go to. lucky for him, you were best friends with his good friends soonyoung and vernon, which gave him the perfect opening to approach you every time. at first you'd look peeved off by his presence, but after a few times you seemed to warm up to him, even laughing at his jokes sometimes. after a few weeks of intruding your friend hangouts, it was as if he'd always been there.

the day finally came in which you'd been left alone together at a party, with both soonyoung and vernon leaving one by one. it was getting late, so seungcheol offered to walk you home, which you surprisingly accepted with a polite smile. you talked like old friends on your way back, never once making any mention of the relationship you used to have. that made cheol both sad and relieved. it was good you weren't hurt by it anymore, but did this mean you were now looking for a mere friendship out of him? he had tried to bring back the old dynamics between the two of you. he had even been as physically affectionate as your newly-developed friendship would allow, but it seemed like that wasnt what you were looking for. seungcheol couldnt help but carry the disappointment in his face as the two of you arrived to your home.

"cheol? what's wrong?", you asked as soon as you caught sight of his face.

"hmm? oh, nothing. im fine. i, uh, goodnight. thanks for letting me walk you."

before he could even turn around, you pulled at his arm to grab his attention.

"cheol, what is it?"

he hesitated in speaking up again. he knew himself to be an outspoken man to a fault. and how was be expected to hold back when you looked so pretty under the moonlight and were even showing concern for him?

"i love you,"

fuck. that's not how he meant to start. and that was clearly not what you had expected him to say, judging by the shocked expression on your face.

"what?"

"im still in love with you, i- i know i fucked up, and i know i waited too long, but ... seeing you move on in life without me made me lose my mind. i know i shouldve apologized earlier. and i cant even blame you for breaking up with me, i ... i was a shitty boyfriend. i didnt treat you how you deserved. but i'll be better now, i promise! just give me one more chance. ill give you everything i shouldve back then and more. i know it's been six months, but ive been losing my mind without you. i know we could make this work. please?"

he knew he mustve looked crazy as he rambled his sudden love confession to you, but he still hoped that you'd maybe take pity on him and take him back. however, after a full minute of silence from you as you didn't meet his eyes, he knew that luck probably wouldnt be smiling at him today.

he turned to leave without a word until you unexpectedly stopped him again.

"wait, cheol," you seemed kind of shy about your movements, but still offered him a smile.

"come in? do you ... will you stay the night? please?"

your shy smile was met with his bright one as his arms warmly wrapped around yours, kissing your cheeks over and over as he used to once upon a time, walking the two of you into the apartment he was once oh so familiar with.

#seventeen fanfic #seventeen x reader #svt fanfic #seventeen #svt #svt x reader #seventeen imagine #seventeen oneshot #seventeen scenarios #svt scenarios #seungcheol oneshot #seungcheol scenarios #seungcheol fanfic #seungcheol x reader #scoups scenarios #scoups x reader #scoups oneshot #scoups fanfic

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scoutswritingcorner · 2 months

Text

A Little R&R

Husk x GN!Reader

TW: None.

A/N: Once again. No one’s asking for this, I just want to write this out. Credit to @emperor-kaiser for the prompt and @aboyscriminalrecord for the amazing artwork. I love the grumpy old bartender. This is a platonic fic.

Husk growled as Alastor finally left him alone for the day, he got on his nerves. It was an hour later when you joined him at the bar as he chugged another bottle of whiskey. You didn’t say much at first, just simply enjoying the silence. After a bit he sighed, “Want a drink?” He glanced at you watching you smile and shake your head, “Want to talk?” Your question caught him off guard as he smirked and shook his head, “Ain’t nothing to talk about, Kid. Just more of the same old shit.” He put the now empty bottle down, he was going to have to throw that out properly later that night.

“What do you see in that man?” He asked leaning against the bar, “He makes me laugh~” You responded almost instantly tapping the bar with your hands glancing up to see his ears were laying flat against his head. “You’re stressed.” You called out making the old feline jump in shock, looking away as if he was embarrassed. “I’m the bartender here, I’m supposed to analyze you. Not the other way around kid.” He rubbed his face and watched you get up from the barstool and make your way towards the couch in the foyer waving him over.

He looked around to see if Alastor was anywhere near but seeing that the Overlord was nowhere to be found he walked over, allowing you to pull him to sit between your legs, his back flush against the couch. “Can I touch your ears?” You asked, watching him take off his hat and sigh, “Sure..just careful.” He grumbled. Your fingers found their way into his soft fur at the top of his head, gently scratching before they moved behind his ears to get a good scratching.

In a matter of seconds Husk’s body went limp as he leaned his head back in your hands, loud and deep purrs escaping his throat as his eyes shut.

You smiled as you watched him lean into your touch and relax, his ears flickering every so often when you brushed against them. You’re pretty sure he could die happy here.

A/N: IM SO SORRY FOR SPAMMING YOU SO MUCH-

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel imagine #gn reader #husker x reader #hazbin hotel husk #husker hazbin hotel #husk hazbin hotel #husk x reader #husk x you #husk x y/n

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taintedcigs · 1 year

Text

YOU'RE NOT SCARED, ARE YA?

wc: 4.1k+

pairing: ghost face!eddie munson x final girl!reader

warnings: 18+ !!smut, smut smut!!, MINORS DNI!! absolutely no minors!! p in v, dom/sub elements, dark!dom!eddie, naive and innocent!reader, final girl!reader, mean!eddie, fingering, kinda manipulation, slight dubcon, this is kinda dark so if this kind of stuff bothers u DO NOT READ!!, minor character death, dom!eddie, squirting (??), sub!reader, heavy/graphic smut, knife kink kind of, very brief choking kink, kind of a breeding kink??, praising, degradation (name-calling etc), mean!soft!eddie JUST OVERALL FILTH MINORS DNI!!!

summary: you were happy to be a survivor and finally ready to get back to your life after ghost face was caught, but was he actually caught?

authors note: okay so i watched scream 6 yesterday and i had to i just had to write ghost face!eddie !! NOo SCREAM 6 SPOILERS DON'T WORRY OFC !! this is for u wyv OMG hope u like it i kinda have doubts abt it but oh well!! also hope u enjoyed scream 6 omg @sleepy-wyvern the reader is very forgiving and just gives in im sorry for that okay ill write another darker one maybe later pls send me ur ghost face!eddie requests and help me indulge in this fantasy omg xo, em <3 line divider creds to @attxnt

The breeze from the window had you chilling up before you could realize. Your head popping in the direction of the window as your eyebrows furrowed, you never noticed that you had left a window open.

With a sigh you get up to close it, as it's already freezing inside, a creak on the floors causes your head to pop up again, more confused than ever, you look around.

The TV is faintly playing in the background, screams of a woman in the horror movie you are watching is pitching your ears as you hurry to turn the TV off, wanting to see what the noise is about.

As soon as you turn the TV off, you hear another creak, the sound is now familiar to you in an eery way, you feel uneasy as you tiptoe around the living room, looking around to see what is causing the noise.

You shake your head at your paranoid thoughts, it's probably just the noises an old house makes.

Huffing, you make your way into the kitchen, re-opening the fridge for the hundredth time that day as you wait for a meal to magically appear.

Another windy noise behind you catches your attention, you swiftly turn around. Nothing.

Then the loud rang of the phone causes you to jump.

The phone ringing isn't easing your worries, you know the Ghostface murderer who has been roaming around town, killing a bunch of teenagers in Hawkins was caught, but still, it didn't give you comfort as you saw the face of Jason Carver who was being arrested, he looked innocent —as innocent as he could look for someone who was an awful person.

You shake your thoughts as you realize you are being paranoid, the Ghostface killer is caught, you need to calm down, you remind yourself.

"Hello?" You answer the phone calmly, hoping that it's Eddie, ready for him to ease your worries.

"Hello," The distorted voice speaks at the end of the line.

"Yes?" You ask, curiously now, wanting to know who the caller is. You shake off the feeling that the distorted voice reminds you of the ghost face killer, you don't want to believe it.

"Who is this?" The voice asks, and you furrow your brows.

"Who are you trying to reach?" Your voice comes out small, you're still uneasy from the creaking noises and what had happened in town before the killer was caught.

"I don't know." The distorted voice sounds careless.

"You have the wrong number." You answer, any sort of phone call still gives you anxiety. "I'm hanging up" You almost huff, annoyed that it's not Eddie, just some random guy.

"Wait, don't hang up." The voice is soft now

"Why?" You reply, your eyes narrowing.

"Because I think you need to hear this." The voice is mysterious.

"Hear what?" You ask, confused.

"They got the wrong guy." The voice is taunting, and the uneasy, chilling feeling from before is back.

"What? What the fuck are you talking about?" You ask, getting more uncomfortable, you look around, the paranoid feeling setting into your stomach once again.

You thought you had left the ghost face killer thing behind, happy that you survived.

"Jason Carver is innocent." The voice is more direct now, it sends shivers down your spine. "Well, he isn't innocent, but he sure isn't the ghostface killer." The voice chuckles.

"Who's this?" You ask, your voice getting shaky now.

“The question isn’t who am I, the question is, where am I?”

"Fuck you, asshole. This isn't funny." You spit, ready to hang up the phone.

"Oh, I'm sure you would beg me to."

"You know what-" Your words are quick to cut off as you are swayed by a mysterious figure, hooded hands cover your mouth as you attempt to scream and squirm.

"That's not going to do you any good, sweetheart." The distorted voice is enough to make you shaky again.

A scream dies out in your throat from the shock, you are left speechless and you feel almost paralyzed.

"Let me go." Your voice is muffled, tears are prickling your eyes.

"You want me to let you go?" The ghostface masked figure tilts its head to the side, you eye him curiously, nodding slowly.

"Don't you wanna know who I am?" The voice is taunting you again, and as much as you want to know, you don't want to give whoever it is the satisfaction.

"Let me go." Your voice is still muffled, a chuckle is heard from the other end.

"I think you know who I am, sweetheart." The voice is oh so familiar now, but you are still in denial as you shake your head.

"I- I don't." You manage to let out in your shocked state, the ghost masked figure chuckles, and the distorting voice is now going back to normal as you are finally hit with the realization.

The figure lets you go as he rips off the ghost face mask off his face, you first see the curls, those curls that you twirled your finger around as you laid in his bed, are now taunting you.

A grinning Eddie is revealed under the mask, you are now shaking as your face is contorted.

No words come out of your lips as you stare at him in shock, hoping for this to be his idea of a sick twisted joke.

"Cat got your tongue, sweetheart?" He is fully smirking, you are speechless, you can't believe that it was Eddie, your Eddie who had been behind the sick killings.

"Eds...?" Your words linger in the air, you feel small, so small.

"Yes, doll." The nickname should make you feel disgusted, you should feel disgusted. But you can't help but still be so enamored with him, you feel disgusted by yourself.

"What... why- How?" Your questions are spiraling, your eyes never leaving his, you want answers.

"It's... you?" You are dumbfounded, and the expression on Eddie's face is something you have never seen before.

"Yup." He's quick to let you know that he really is ghost face.

"I- I don't understand..." You are fighting your tears now, and Eddie walks closer to you to cup your face, still gentle, and you are too shocked to push him away, too comfortable with him that you let him.

"It's not that hard to understand, sweetheart." He chuckles almost, your eyebrows furrow. "Why?" You dare to ask, he clicks his tongue.

"It's simple really."

"You- you killed them, Eddie." Your voice is meek again, it's cracking as your tears freely escape your cheeks, he's quick to wipe them away. His other hand still holding onto the knife.

"Shhh, angel. There's no need to cry, they don't deserve your tears." He attempts to comfort you, but you squirm. "Don't be scared of me angel, 'm not gonna hurt you, I promise." He reassures, and you want to believe him, as much as you're scared, he's Eddie, your Eddie.

"Why- why did you kill them?" You manage to ask between your tears, Eddie's head tilts to the side.

"You're looking for a motive?" He asks. "How about the town "freak" is getting sick and tired of all those assholes calling him a "freak" and a "satanist", so he decides to finally show them how much of a freak he can be, how's that motive for you, hmm?" He taunts, the knife is still behind him, but you feel uneasy.

"Vicki, Tommy H., Carol, Tina..." You name every one of his victims, and it brings a smile to his face.

"I had to do it, sweetheart." His voice is calm and collected.

"Why... why..." You are still in shock.

"Oh, it's easy, sweetheart. Vicki, Carol and Tina were awful to you, d'you remember how they splashed you with their drinks, and laughed while you ran away sobbing, d'you remember that? Cause I never fucking forgot." His voice was harsh now, he was feeling the anger, the pain you had endured in their hands.

"Thought it was funny to humiliate my girl, make her feel bad, and they thought they could fucking get away with it? No chance." He hummed.

"Tommy H. was a fucking asshole, he got what was coming to him, no real loss there." He was talking about these people as if they were disposable, and you hated to admit he was right, you would probably never admit it out loud, but all of them were terrible people, destroying all the people they didn't deem to be "popular".

You look at him, still in shock, you don't know what to say, what to think, especially when Eddie is standing this close to you.

"And Jason?" You asked, your voice was less trembling now, what Eddie had done was horrible, but you didn't feel as scared anymore.

"Oh, he was easy to frame." He grinned. "I couldn't let him get away with fucking touching you at that party, princess." His hands were caressing your cheek now, and you gulped.

"I knew you tried to hide that from me, you knew how angry I would get, you didn't want me to get involved or hurt myself... Robin told me." His voice was more vulnerable now.

"But I'd do anything, fucking anything to protect you, princess. And I did. All of them, deserved what was fucking coming for them." His eyes squinted, you could feel the anger radiating off of him.

"S'all good, now. You have me, to protect you, princess." His hands drooped down from your cheeks, as they traveled across your body, you couldn't help but get chills all over where he touched, you felt disgusted with yourself that you were enjoying this, but you had waited so long, so long for him, and now he was actually giving you what you had waited so long for.

"Eds..." You get his attention.

"They tried to hurt what's mine, they tried to take my girl away from me." He murmured into your ear, his hot breath fanning against your face, and you can feel the smirk forming on his lips.

"But I've got you now, princess. No need to be afraid." His words were late to register in your head, the infamous ghost face killer was in front of you, his body is pressed against yours, and he was telling you all about his murders, and for some reason, you were still not screaming and running away.

"I- I can't." You squirmed, your eyes were getting teary again.

"C'mon, Y/N. No need to make this harder than it is." His hand raised the knife, you felt your breath hitch in your throat.

"You- you killed them, Eddie." Your voice was shaking, you eyed his movements.

"You taunted me... with your calls." Your voice was shaky. "How the fuck am I supposed to trust you?" You gulped, trying to push him away, but he held you in place.

"Baby, I just had to warn you of them... they were supposed to be your friends, do you remember everytime you defended them to me, telling me that they were your friends and that I should be nice, hmm?" He asked, you were ashamed to nod, he was right, he had tried to warn you of them but he never listened.

"But they ditched you the moment you told them what Jason had tried to do to you, they humiliated you... you deserved so much better." His voice was calm as he attempted to comfort you with the knife still in his hand.

"I had to taunt you a little for not listening to me, but whatever I said to you wasn't bad." He reassured, you shook your head.

"But killing them was the only way?" You raised your voice this time, getting confidence from the way Eddie saw you as his soft spot.

"I was protecting you." His calm voice was more irritated now, his gaze landed on yours, and it was piercingly sharp.

"I- I didn't ask you to do that for me." Your voice was shaky, and Eddie tssked as he dragged the knife along your face, you squeezed your eyes shut, afraid.

He noticed your movements, and he was quick to drag the knife away, knowing it had scared you. "No need to be scared of me, princess." He still had that smirk on his face, but he was gentle now.

"Let me go or I'll scream." You demanded, but he just chuckled.

"Oh, my sweet, sweet, angel." He hissed, but he let you go. And you look at him dumbfounded.

"Go on, then. Call the cops, tell them it was Eddie, your Eddie." His eyes narrowed as they watched you, you gulped. He knew where to hit you.

You didn't want him to be in trouble, even after everything, even after how you had tried to hate him in these last five minutes.

"I- I..." You stuttered, and Eddie chuckled.

"Do it, princess, turn me in." He taunted again, and it's like you were unable to move.

"Can't do it, can ya?" The taunting voice was back again. But he wasted no time as he pinned you against the wall this time, standing closer to you than he ever did.

"Knew you wanted me, as much as I wanted you princess." His voice was sultry, the knife that was supposed to scare you was now running against your clothes, and he felt you shiver under him, it makes him feel more in control, and he loved every second of it.

"Look how you squirm with just my touch, princess. I bet you're s'soaked under that tiny little skirt, aren't you?" He questioned, you squeezed your eyes shut, you hated how much you were enjoying this, and you felt disgusted with yourself.

"Let's see." His hands were cold as they landed on your thigh, riding up your skirt as you sucked in a breath.

His touch was so soft and demanding that as soon as his ringed fingers circled around your panties you let out a whimper, Eddie’s pants tightening at the sound.

“You really needed this, huh?” He whispered against your ear, leaving sloppy kisses on your neck.

"Look at you, squirming under my touch, holding out your pretty little whimpers from me, you want this as much as I do, sweetheart, don't lie to me."

The hand that was holding the knife grazed your thighs, the knife's coldness caused a gasp out of you, and Eddie smirked. "Such a slut." He almost chuckled, and you whimpered at the nickname, Eddie knew you like the back of his hand.

"You enjoying this, princess? You enjoy me making you squirm with the knife I killed the assholes that tried to hurt you?" He questioned darkly, you didn't want to answer, you felt ashamed.

Eddie's hand that circled your panties cut contact, and you gasped, your eyes opening, he cupped your face harshly. "Fucking answer me." You looked into his dark eyes, and you nodded, simply. You needed him.

"Words, need your words." His grip on your cheeks was harsh.

"Yes- yes! I- I need you!" You stuttered over your words but it was good enough for Eddie now as he smirked.

Eddie's rough and demanding demeanor, as well as his protectiveness, was sickly making your panties dampen, you hated to admit it.

His hands let go of your face as they returned to their place, and his finger easily slipped past your panties as they entered into you without warning, you whimpered loudly.

“S’fucking soaked for me, angel.” He purred against your ear, his hands gliding in and out of you easily as your whimpers were blissful to his ears.

The knife in his hand was still gliding your thighs, his lips harshly collided against yours as you were left out of breath.

“Eds…” The words slipped past your lips in a state pure of euphoria. He focused his one finger on your spot, causing you to almost scream out, as he pushed his other thick fingers into your dripping cunt.

“Look at you, doll…” He murmured.

“I haven’t even fucked you and you’re already dripping. Waiting to get fucked by me, my little slut” He chuckled as his fingers stretched you out, making you gasp.

You were captivated by him and willing to comply to all of his demands. You had been yearning for him to touch you, for you to feel him, for his cock to wreck you utterly.

"Need to get rid of these." He hummed as he swiftly used his knife to cut your panties, you gasped, as the air hit your cunt, whimpering.

"Need... need you." You couldn't take it anymore, you looked up at him doe-eyed, and he almost melted with your words.

"What do you need pretty girl?" He needed more from you.

“Need you between my thighs.” You whimper as he groaned at your words. “Need your cock.”

"Need your cock, inside of me, fillin' me all the way up." Your words are enough for him to quickly free himself from his pants and boxers.

He hissed as his angry red tip, oozing with pre-cum, faced you.

You licked your lips at the sight, spitting in your free hand and taking him in your hand hungrily, giving his cock a few strokes.

"Atta girl... but no fucking, teasin'" His hands were quick to swat yours away, you pouted.

He took the knife again, this time he freed you of your almost transparent blouse. He recognized that blouse immediately, he could almost always see your tits from them, enjoying the way they jumped up and down when he purposefully hit the curbs when you were inside his van. But now he wanted to see them, fully exposed.

The knife was quick to get rid of the tiny blouse. His eyes devoured your bare breasts flashing him, and he groaned at the sight.

The hand that was free of the knife played with your nipple as he latched onto it, hungrily, sucking, pulling and everything filthy he could possibly think of.

The other hand with the knife was still travelling across your stomach, and then getting closer to your other nipple. always grazing to give you a bit of pain, but a hell lot of pleasure.

"Please, Eds, please." You were begging now, and he loved it.

"Such a lil' slut... begging for me to fuck you, after I just told you I killed all those people..." He mocked, chuckling. You felt your cheeks flush with his words, you were ashamed, but he was far from wrong.

He still had your nipple in his mouth, kissing and nibbling.

"You were fucking made for me." He murmurs.

"This fucking cunt was made for me." He lets go of your nipple, now his hands give your clit a tight pinch.

Eddie lined his angry red tip to your entrance, groaning at the sight of your glistening cunt, waiting to be ruined by him.

Without warning, he pinned you further against the wall and pushed himself inside of you, your cunt engulfed him almost instantly as his eyes rolled into the back of his head.

It was as if your cunt was made for him, gripping him nicely.

He groaned, your pussy was milking him as he felt nuzzled by your warmthness, he was in pure ecstacy, and he never wanted to let you go.

Your whimpers were getting so much louder now, and he never felt more proud. He growled against your ear and choked you out with his free hand, muzzling out your cries. He watched the way your tits rose up and down, enjoying the sight, making him sink lower into you.

"Look at you, fuck, princess. Takin' my cock so fuckin' well." He groaned.

"This tight fucking cunt was made for me. Made for me to fuckin' use, perfectly made just for me."

Eddie was sure he was in heaven as he rocked his hips roughly and deeper into you, splitting you open until he was sure you were stuffed with his cock.

“D’you know how long I wanted to this, princess?” He asks.

You shake your head, whimpering.

"Up." He demands as he taps your thighs, you oblige immediately wrapping your legs around him.

His thick thighs are pushing your legs wider, “I waited so fucking long to take you. To take this fucking cunt and make it mine, make you mine.”

“D'you know how much I wanted to stuff you with my cock, fill you to the brim till all that pretty little head of yours would be able to think would be my cock.” He growled, harshly gripping into you, your hands tugged on his hair guiding him to go faster.

"You wanted this as much as I do, doll. I can tell, I can tell by the way your sweet little cunt is milkin' my cock, lookin' so fuckin' pretty when you're s'fucked out." His voice was dark now, and being filled fully by him made you whimper once again. You nodded your head.

“S’stuffed with my cock that you can’t even speak, baby?” He asked, smirking. You nodded, needing more, you were moaning loudly now.

“Lookin’ so pretty beggin' for my cock, I knew you would love the idea of me killing for you, didn't you? You love the fact that I'd do any fucking thing for you” He purred, his hips pushing against you.

You knew it was wrong, what Eddie did was wrong, and you surely knew that him stretching you open with his cock right after he told you he was a murderer was wrong, but fuck, he just felt so damn good.

“Needed this so badly, needed to stuff this tight lil’cunt to the brim, show you who owns it.” He moaned loudly.

He was quick to slip out of you, and you gasped, he didn't give you any time to process anything as he plunged himself inside your walls in a glorious thrust once again, stretching you open once again, and making you scream out.

“Yours, yours, yours” You murmured, trying your best to adjust to his huge cock again.

Eddie eyed you as you squeezed your eyes shut again, your head fell back from pleasure, your pretty lips were shaped in an 'o' form, and he could tell you were getting close.

“F-fuck, baby. You're squeezing so tight around my cock. You gonna cum, sweetheart?" He asked, groaning.

With both of his hands he was now holding onto your waist, the knife in his hands was dangerously close to your skin, grazing every once in a while, and he couldn't help but sickly smile as you had a terrified look in your face as it did so.

Eddie decided you looked so pretty when you couldn't decide if you were terrified of him or you wanted him inside of you forever.

He was pounding into you harder now, and you couldn't help but nod, you wanted to, you needed to cum.

"Needa cum..." You whined and Eddie's eyes glimmered with lust.

“Look at my lil' cockslut.” He purred.

“Cum for me, slut.”

"Cream my cock, sweetheart." He didn’t stop his movements as he roughly rutted his cock inside of you, your sweet cunt taking all of him as you released around him, gush of wetness pulsing out of you.

"Shit... shit... Look at you, f-fuck." He praised.

"Squirtin' all over my cock, f-fuck, made just for me."

Strained moans escaped your lips as the sound of his skin slapping against yours mixed with Eddie's groans were all that was filling the room.

"Your cunt gets so tight right after you cum, shit- shit." He moaned, his movements were animalistic now, he wasn't stopping.

"Don't think I can hold much anymore, sweetheart. Need to fill up your sweet fucking cunt." He cooed.

“Fuckin’ made for me. You’re mine and mine only.” He grunted as he pounded deeper into you now.

“Gonna fill that tight lil' cunt so deep with my cum, sweets. Paint your walls white” He cooed. "Gonna dump my load so fuckin' deep inside you, you'll never get it out, sweetheart."

Eddie’s deep growls and his animalistic noises filled the room as he sheathed himself further into you before releasing his warm seeds within your waiting cunt, his hot cum quick to fill your insides, causing you to groan once again.

He let out a last groan as he slowly attempted to come down from his high. He felt ecstatic, his big smirk never leaving his face.

After he caught his breath, his cock growing soft inside of you, he sighed. Finally relaxed, he pulled out of you with a huge grin plastered onto his face as he looked down to admire his work.

His warm cum was leaking out of you, dripping down your thighs. He was quick to stuff back all of his cum that tried to leave your pretty glistening pussy.

"Mine." He murmured as he placed a sloppy kiss against your lips, taking you in his arms as he carried you to your bed, so you could have your well-deserved rest.

#eddie munson imagine #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x y/n #ghostface!eddie #ghostface!eddie munson #stranger things imagine

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pinkaditty · 1 month

Text

Beauty (Twisted Wonderland, Rook Hunt)

tiptoes into blog again but steps on a comically placed whoopee cushion and alerts the entirety of my eagerly awaiting readers

hey hi hi sorry this is 2 let you all know that i am ALIVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I AM ALIVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i had 2 disappear 2 focus entirely on my studies bc i was due 2 graduate with honors soon and i needed 2 have ALL my work completed lol! anyways, im glad 2 say that soon i will be the proud owner of an early bachelor’s degree in pre-med. this honors thesis better look STUNNING on my fucking resume.

a/n: anyways YES im working on ur asks now that i have more free time yaaaaaaaaay!!! in the meantime enjoy this lol i wrote it entirely on a whim bc i saw the new rook card on twt and was like “hm. okay fine ass.” anyways let it be known i know VERY LITTLE about book 7 and Rook in general (ive seen spoilers but i don’t actively seek them out, plus i don't have the game anymore bc free palestine, fuck disney), so this might be ooc or an unusually placed scenario. please let me know how i can improve!

summary: rook’s back to his old self. he’s not sure of himself, but you have some choice words.

cw: suggestive!!!!!!!! minors DNI!!!!!!!!!, book 7 spoilers i think, gn!reader (specifics of reader’s physical attributes are not mentioned, but Rook uses the masculine French word for "dear"), NOT PROOFREAD!!!!.

MINORS DNI AS PER USUAL THIS IS SUGGESTIVE!! THANK YOU FOR RESPECTING MY BOUNDARY!!!

“Well, I admit… the version of me you see standing before you, cher, was not me at my prime…”

You stare curiously at the man before you. Unmistakably, this was Rook. Same French accent, albeit with a harsher twang, same upturned green eyes, same haunting, knowing smile. It was Rook, without a doubt. But, he was different. He looked different. His uniform wasn’t Pomefiore- it was Savanaclaw. His hair was longer and wilder, choppy bangs and uneven waves falling in his face and along his back. His skin was darker, a light tan present on his usually pristine, pale skin. Freckles dotted the bridge of his nose and crest of his cheeks, and a smattering of them was found on his shoulders and neck. He didn’t stand quite as tall; rather, he stood with a slight slouch. Bending forward just slightly, piercing green eyes peering at you from beneath the shadow of a wide-brim brown hat. Strangely, like this, he appeared considerably more predatory.

Suddenly, him previously being in Savanaclaw made sense.

However, this spurred a question in you. Not about his decision to change dorms, but about his words.

“What do you mean, not at your ‘prime’?”

You furrow your brows in confusion as you stare back at him, searching for answers. This Rook- with far more obvious muscle definition and hardened expressions- seemed quite at his fully-functioning peak. You step towards him, your eyes raking over his form, lingering at his rough, calloused hands on his hips, at his broad, freckle-covered chest, and at his perfect cupid’s bow, where a stray freckle laid. “Mon trickster,” he speaks, the sharp twang of his accent making you shiver. His lips rise into a knowing grin. Your eyes snap back up to his eyes, glued to you in irony. “It’s rude to stare.”

Your cheeks heat up only for a moment, but you wave him off. “Rook…” You start, giving him one more once over before glancing away again, not wanting to get too caught up in observing his proportions. “I don’t think this isn’t your prime. If anything…” You turn to him again, looking him in the eyes. You roll your bottom lip between your teeth before hurriedly spitting out the words before you could regret them. “...I think you’re beautiful.”

You would expect Rook, of all people, to be unfazed by these words. However, he seems a bit taken aback, his eyes widening and his posture straightening, before he leans back forward again, his predatory smirk stretching wider across his face. “Merci, mon chéri, however, I do believe-”

“I mean it.” You quickly interrupt him, stopping him from beginning a self-depricating tirade of how unaccustomed he used to be to the concept of beauty. “I think you’re beautiful like this.” You face him head-on, your heart pounding loudly in your ears. This shouldn’t feel like confessing, but strangely, it does.

Now it’s Rook’s turn to blush. His smile fades, his eyes going from knowing to gentle curiosity. The warm redness of the blush spreads across his tan cheeks, accentuating the darkness of his freckles. Something about that is endearing to you, and for a moment, you are emboldened.

You step closer to him, to which he instinctively steps back, maintaining space while his senses are momentarily thrown off by his reaction to your praise. However, he doesn’t get to do that for long. He stumbles back into a stool, gripping onto its edge as he falls onto it, surprised. He would have known that was there, if not for your closeness and persistence. You move even closer, placing a knee between his thighs on the stool, boosting your height and leaning in to grab his face. He freezes, momentarily shocked by your bold actions, but he soon relaxes, his shoulders falling and his breathing returning to normal. He looks down, his eyes becoming hooded before he looks up at you again, his emerald gaze more alluring than before. He bites his lip before speaking, probably to distract you. Admittedly, it almost works. “Mon trickster…” He speaks again, and you wonder how anyone got used to hearing him speak, when such a harsh twang in a smooth accent contradicted so perfectly. He breathes shakily, a blush returning to his face. You deduced he was definitely trying to lure you in. “You’re being… awfully bold today. May I ask what’s brought this on-”

“Your imperfections are what makes your beauty!” You don’t shout, but you do raise your voice, ensuring his words are drowned out. Being this close to him makes you somewhat nervous, but you stand your ground, pressing your palms a little more into the flesh of his cheeks. He blinks at you confusedly, waiting for you to speak. You open your mouth to speak, but close it just as quickly, letting out a few false starts before sighing. You look away, taking a deep breath, before steeling yourself and facing him once more. Slowly, you let your eyes take in his face, until your gaze reaches his freckles, prominent against his tan skin. You find yourself stroking his freckles with your thumbs, gently tracing the nonsensical patterns in which they appear. You finally find your confidence again, and speak without thinking. “Your freckles and tan don’t tell me that you had bad or sensitive skin- they tell me that you loved the sun.” Your voice is so gentle it surprises yourself, not whispered, but low, and filled with a strange intimacy.

His eyes widen at your words, his lips parted. He breathes shakily, but something about it is genuine this time. His eyes remain fixated on yours, his thick eyebrows downturned in a strange mix of melancholy and yearning. You stroke his face more, and he relaxes, closing his eyes and letting you hold him. You begin to breathe shakily yourself, your body flushing with heat and your fingers beginning to tremble just slightly. You move your right hand from his cheek to his hair, not once lifting your palm. Your fingers gently move through his hair, holding the back of his head, and he leans into your touch, exhaling as your pinky brushes the back of his neck. You lean in as well, following him as he follows your touch. He opens one eye to peer at you curiously, gauging your next action. When you gently pull at his waves, his eye snaps shut again, and he disguises a moan as a throaty exhale. You speak again, led purely by the spur of the moment. “Your uneven bangs and wild hair don’t tell me that you didn’t care for it- it tells me that you took the time to let it grow, and chose not to restrict what was yours.” You say this close to his neck, your lips gently brushing against the shell of his ear. He shivers, gripping the stool harder.

You begin to pull back, keeping your palms to his skin. You move your right hand back to his cheek, where your left hand still rests on his other one. You pause for a moment before drifting both hands downwards, your palms and fingers tickling his jaw and neck. He leans his head back to allow you access, sighing quietly at the feeling. You gently trail your palms and fingers down his neck before finally resting at the base. You then gently drag your hands to his shoulders and squeeze them, looking up at him. His blush still remains, and his lips are still parted, his breathing still shaky. He gazes at you expectantly, as though eagerly awaiting your next bit of praise. You lean towards his face and press your forehead to his, looking down at his shoulders. “Your slouch does not tell me that you had bad posture- it tells me that you were shyer, and didn’t take pride in your appearance.” You begin to trail your palms down his shoulders, your fingers feather-light on his skin in their wake. He shivers at the gentle stimulation, closing his eyes again. His breathing gets heavier and shakier, and you begin to feel heat pool within you once more. You pull your head back, straightening up as your stare at him. Leaning your face close to his, you continue to trail your palms down his arms, your fingers lightly pressing into his muscles, mapping out the structure of his body. Eventually you lift your palms, using only your fingers to trail down his forearm, tracing the insides of his wrists. He hardly flinches, likely expecting this, but still shivers at the sensation. “It also tells me…” You continue, your lips mere inches from his, but not daring to move any closer, staring at his cupid’s bow and blonde lashes. Your fingers reach his hands, and you gently pry them from their grip on the stool, moving them to his lap, palms up. You trace your fingers along his rough, calloused palms and fingers, making shapes and patterns. “...That you took more pride in the things you did with your hands.” You press your palms into his and his eyes flutter open, not surprised to find you mere inches from his face. He exhales, his blush deepening. He blinks at you, knowing you still weren’t finished yet.

“Your imperfections lead me to your beauty. That’s why…” You trail off, lifting one hand from his palm and caressing his cheek once more. “...You’re beautiful.”

You begin to pull back, closing your eyes and quickly moving away, beginning to move your knee from between his thighs on the stool. However, he quickly grabs you, his fingers gripping the back of your uniform as he pulls you in. Your knee follows your movements, pushing into his inner thigh on the stool. He sharply inhales, looking down, before looking back up at you with hooded eyes. His eyes still look expectant, as though he still wants more.

“Mon trickster…” He says lowly, pulling you in further. Your knee presses harder against his inner thigh and your upper body closer towards his. He breathes shakily, moving one hand from the back of your uniform to the front, bunching some of it in his grasp. He tilts his head towards you, and you can feel his breath on your lips as your eyes lock with his. Heat flushes through your body again.

“Are there any other… imperfect beauties… that I possess, that you’d like to point out to me?”

rejoice! entertainment be upon ye!

a/n: okay but seriously, i hope u all enjoyed! i wrote this in like,, a few hours? for reference it is like. 5:45 am where i am as i type this LOLLLL! i was up lateee bc i no longer have schoolwork which meansss every spare second i have that im not working working, ill be doing these. anyways! please please pleeeeaaaasssseee leave a like, comment, and a reblog if u liked it! i love 2 know that u loved my work! ik its been a while but i promise 2 try 2 be more active… i swear!! oh, and leave an ask if u have any ideas about other things i should write!

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland smut #minors dni #rook twst #rook x reader #twst rook #rook hunt #rook twisted wonderland #rook hunt x reader #rook hunt twisted wonderland #rook hunt twst #rook hunt x yuu #rook hunt smut #twst #rook hunt x mc

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imthebadguyyy · 9 months

Text

Something Just Like This

pairing - charles leclerc x reader

fandom - f1

synopsis - a reflection on your relationship.

part - i (part ii)

warnings - talk about death, leukemia, badly translated french and the events may not be in order.

a/n - felt guilty for being away for so long so here's a wee little bit of a fic to make up for it!! all my love, always ♥️

when you were five,your dad had taken you to a go kart track in monaco, to watch a race with his childhood best friend, herve. having previously lived elsewhere, your trip to monaco with your parents was tremendously exciting, and you had nearly tripped over in your excitement at visiting a new country, and possibly making new friends. your dad had told you, "my friend has 3 sons himself, I'm sure you'll all get along very well"

so, you went, clutching your raggedy anne doll in one hand, and your model ferrari in the other, excitedly chattering away to your mummy and papa, eventually falling asleep on their shoulders.

when you awoke, you found yourself on a strange bed, with neither your doll nor your car beside you, and your parents seemed to have vanished too. the easy tears that had always been ready to spring to your eyes did their job, and your bottom lip began to wobble.

just before you could burst into tears, a pretty lady with kind eyes looked in at the door, and upon seeing your trembling lip, walked in with a soft coo.

"ma cherie, don't cry. are you looking for your maman and papa?" she asked, sitting down beside you.

"yes I am, do you know where they are?" you asked, rubbing your eyes with the back of your hand as you spoke. "yes cherie, they're here, in the living room. im pascale, your parents friend! my husband, herve, is your dad's friend. come, let me introduce you"

and so you followed her to the living room, clutching into her finger for dear life, and the moment you spotted your parents, you ran to your mama, clambering into her lap and hiding your face in her hair.

"hello! are you y/n?" a little boy asked, with messy dark hair a sweet smile. you nodded, looking at him curiously. "I'm Lorenzo, but you can call me enzo!" he said with a smile. "hello" you mumbles softly, taking in your surroundings.

you took in the pretty apartment, with the bright sunlight and the pretty paintings, before something on the floor caught your eye.

there was another boy on the carpet, with brown hair and green eyes, who had in his clutch your missing ferrari toy.

"hey thats my car!" you exclaimed, sliding off your mother's lap to sit on the floor"

"that can't be your car, girls don't play with cars!" the boy exclaimed, holding it close.

"now charles, of course they can! and that is y/n's car so why don't you ask her if you can play with it together?" pascale interrupted, sensing a fight about to break out

"ok, im sorry y/n, can we share this car please? i love ferrari!" he exclaimed, flashing you a bright smile, and it was at that moment that your little five year old heart fell hard for the boy.

the two of you spent the afternoon together, playing with your ferrari and all his other cars, and laughing and giggling with lorenzo, and also playing with baby arthur.

your parents watched with smiles, realizing their children were forming life long bonds.

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no one could have foreseen how you would be joined at the hip forever after that. your parents moved to monaco for a job your dad got, and you started living just down the block from the leclerc's. that meant Saturday night dinners at either of your houses, and lazy Sundays spent at the beach or at go kart races.

you even went to the same school as the boys, with either of your parents picking you up and dropping you off.

as the years passed, you and charles got closer and closer, and it was a rare occasion where you weren't stuck at the hip.

you found in him the best friend you always wanted, funny, kind and caring, and always ready to have your back, something he proved on the very first day of school, when he punched a kid who pulled on your pigtails.

his parents weren't happy but when a tearful charles explained that "i couldn't let him hurt y/n/n!! i love her!!" pascale softened and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"you love her, do you?" she asked with a chuckle, when the boy nodded furiously. "she's my best friend, nobody should make her upset" he said determinedly, making his dad chuckle too.

"ok, mon fils, tu n'as pas de problèmes"

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･

on your sixteenth birthday, the leclercs joined your family for a special dinner on the beach. your dad rented a yacht and you guys had spent the day sailing on it, and trying to catch fish and swimming in the blue water. you had all laughed and screamed and lorenzo had taught you how to do a proper cannonball into the water. your mother's had scolded him for teaching you such unladylike things, and he in turn said "but she's y/n! no one's expecting her to be ladylike!" at which point you had dunked him in the water.

you tuckered each other out by swimming around, and participating in a chicken fight with the leclercs. it was you in charles' shoulder, and arthur on lorenzo's. of course, you won.

it reminded you of when you were children, always together, always messing around in some way or the other. but with Charles spending more and more time racing, you got to see the leclercs much lesser than you'd have liked to.

so communication with Charles became through letters, written to him when he went out of the country to race, with his dad and brother. pascale was a regular visitor but meeting charles had become something to be cherished, what with you busy trying to get auditions to be a singer.

in the years that had passed, you and charles had become extremely close, meeting each other whenever possible and becoming each others support system whenever the other needed it. so of course it was fitting that he was your designated best friend, your confidante, your favourite leclerc (but we won't tell arthur that)

so that night after dinner, when charles suggested you take a walk together on the beach, you thought nothing of it. not until he pulled out a small bracelet he had made, out of seashells, that you gasped, leaping into his arms for a tight hug.

"i want you to have something to remember me by when I go racing, ma jolie, i know I'm not always around, but this way you'll always have a piece of me with you, even if I'm not there" he whispered, dropping a small kiss you your forehead.

gentle kisses and hugs and touch were not unusual for you, it was your love language and it always had been, ever since you were kids.

but there had always been a lingering crush you had on him (and him on you but we'll talk about that later) and you felt your belly burn red hot when his lips dropped to your cheek.

you pulled him in close for a hug, hand running through his hair, freshly cut by his mother.

"merci, ma vie" you whispered, pressing a kiss to his wrist, and as the both of you stayed there, your head on his shoulder, his head on yours, cozy on a rug he had stolen, watching the beautiful monaco sunset, you swore you had never loved anyone as much as you had in that moment.

and charles realized it too, looking over at you, and how the sunset cast a golden hue on your mesmerizing eyes, and the way your hair shimmered softly, and your skin glowed bright, and he swore he had never seen a sight prettier, and his little teenage heart fell a little harder for the five year old who worse pigtails and loved ferrari as much as he did.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

however, your story wasn't always just sunshine and rainbows. when you were seventeen, your dad was diagnosed with leukemia.

the news came as a shock to you, especially when the doctor told you, he did not have strong chances of recovery even with the proper surgery and treatment. you'd never forget your mother's wail, as she sobbed over your father's fate, and how pascale and herve were there for her through it all, but for you, you couldn't breathe.

you ran to the park, crawling under the slide set, your breathing harsh and shallow. your eyes were blurring and every breath sent a sharp pain shooting down your chest. around you, the world seemed to spin and you closed your eyes, drawing your knees in, and begging your brain to stop, and pressing a hand to your chest.

before you knew it you were gasping, every gasp making you more and more dizzy, and your heart seemed to be banging against your chest to get out.

"am i dying?" you thought to yourself, labouring gasps echoing in the darkness.

"and am i hearing things?" you also asked yourself, because you could have sworn you heard charles' voice.

and lo and behold, he appeared, panting and sweaty, sinking down next to you, grabbing your sweaty hands in his own and pushing his forehead down to yours.

"cherie? ma jolie? regarde-moi s'il te plaît, regarde-moi. maman told me what happened. please cherie, breathe for me, i need you to breathe. peux-tu respirer pour moi?" he begged, rubbing your back slowly and pressing kisses to your nose.

slowly, your breathing slowed down, but as it did, tears began to stream down your face, and ugly sobs wracked your body.

Charles felt his heart break, watching the strongest girl he knew break down in his arms, tears and sweat pooling on his shirt as you sobbed.

"i know, Cherie, i know" he whispered, his own eyes glazing over. he loved your dad as much as your dad loved him, and he couldn't believe it when his mother told him the news. he pulled you in even closer, so you were straddling his lap, and kept rubbing your back, whispering sweet nothings to you.

"papa, il va mourir et il va nous laisser maman et moi seules" you wailed into his shoulder and he shushed you gently.

"no no no, cherie, listen to me, please?" he asked, pulling your chin up, heart breaking when he saw your red eyes and runny nose.

you nodded slowly, still hiccupping, but letting him pull you into his chest.

"y/n, i cannot tell you what the future holds for your papa. but I can promise you that you and mama will never be alone, ever. even if the day comes when we have to say goodbye to your papa, you will never, ever be alone, not while I am there, not while maman is there, not while papa is there, and not while lorenzo and arthur are there. you are my family, y/n, and family sticks together. I'm here for you, always" he whispered.

you looked at him, your heartbroken eyes looking into his sincere green ones, seeing the same pain reflected in them. and in that moment, you knew it was right when you leaned in, and he did too.

your lips met that cold, dark, rainy evening, under the shade of the slide set in the park, but your souls had intertwined when you were five, and you could have sworn you had never felt more alive than you did at the moment.

and while your heart broke and sagged with the weight of losing your father so soon, it also ached with love at having charles with you. so when you drew back, still tasting, the salty tears you both had shed, he pulled you back in for a tighter hug.

"toujours là pour toi cherie, toujours."

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

you lost your dad the following year, in 2016, and charles was by your side at the funeral, watching you cry as you placed a white rose on his casket.

you had never spoken about that kiss again, and neither of you had thought it was the right time to bring it up in the months that followed.

charles watched as your mother, the woman he so admired, crumbled before him, lost without her guiding light. is that how it would ever be if you ever lost him?

the fear that coursed through his heart shocked him. he couldn't imagine what it would be like, to loose someone he loved so dearly.

his father had taken over as a surrogate father for you, and constant support for your mother. but the leclercs knew something that you didn't, their father wasn't keeping very well either, but no one had the heart to tell the l/n's, not when you were already suffering through so much.

after the funeral, there was a small tea at your own house, but you couldn't bear to be there. so at the first opportunity, you slipped away, leaving your mother in pascales care.

you ran, not caring where, until you found yourself at the beach. you sat down, pulling off your shoes and throwing your hat away, before sinking down on your knees to the sand.

you sobbed, salty tears dripping down your face, holding the locket your dad gave you in your hands, and once again, a familiar smell filled your nose as a warm body settled in next to you. charles.

"hi cherie" he whispered, wrapping an arm around you.

"hello" you whispered, mustering up a small smile.

"ma courageuse fille" he whispered softly, making you giggle and sob at the same time.

"i have to be strong for maman" you admitted. "she has no one but me in this world anymore" you whispered, eyes blurring again.

"she has us, always" charles said determinedly. "and we aren't going anywhere" he said, taking your hand in his.

and as the sun set once again, you reminicsed about a simpler, sweeter time, when you and charles where carefree and innocent, not scarred by life and it's harsh realities.

there was something special in that sunset, you noted, resting your head on charles shoulder again. perhaps your papa was trying to indicate that charles was the one for you.

but at the moment, sitting by the beach, in a moment of joined sorrow, you had never felt more human.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

with charles growing success in f2, and you finally getting a record deal, life was going well.

until you were told that herve was not doing well. denial flooded your brain. no. how was this possible? how could god take both the father's in your life to disease and illness?

you screamed and wailed and cursed, too stung, too bitter, about life.

and then the day came, in 2017. when pascale called you sobbing and lorenzo came to your door knocking wildly.

"c'est papa,il ne se réveille pas !! tante laura, qu'est-ce qu'on fait?!'

your mom was out the door in an instant and you followed, following a heartbroken lorenzo to the door of the house you knew so well.

you could hear pascales wails before you even reached, and the easy tears rose again but you forced them down.

you had to be strong for your second family, and with a deep breath, you pushed the door in.

what you saw broke you.

charles, sobbing on the sofa, head in his hands, while arthur sat next to his mother, in tears.

your mother dealt with all the formalities but you stuck to charles, letting him cry into your shoulder, holding him the hold day, whispering how much you loved him and how sorry you were to him, and promising him that he wasn't alone.

you comforted arthur too, holding the boy in your arms, wrapping him in the tightest hug.

you had never felt more respect for Lorenzo, ever the big brother, tears streaming down him face, even though he stayed so strong for his family.

later that evening, you held charles in their balcony, wrapped in a blanket that you had knitted for him.

"i feel so hollow, so empty" he admitted, burying his face deeper into your neck, trying his best to stay grounded by inhaling the scent of your perfume.

"i feel as if a piece of my heart has been snatched away and I'll never be okay again" he admitted, tears filling his eyes for the hundredth time that day.

"i know, charles, believe me I know" you whispered softly to him, running your hands through his hair, "but a wise boy I know once told me, that I was never ever going to be alone. he told me 'even if the day comes when we have to say goodbye to your papa, you will never, ever be alone, not while I am there' and today charles, I am saying the same to you. i know that it hurts like anything right now and that pain will never go away"

"feel that pain charles. it's what makes you human, ma vie,and i know it hurts. but I am here for you. take out all your pain and I will be there to catch you when you fall. i will be there to put you back together when you fall apart. i am here for you ma vie, always" you whispered to him, and he choked out a sob, curling himself into you, never more sure of his love for you.

"i lied and told him I got the ferrari seat" he finally choked out, and with a soft whisper of "oh charles" you pulled him in close.

there it was.

the reason why he felt like his soul was being eaten up inside.

"charles, mon coeur, i promise, you will get that ferrari seat. it will be soon, and you will have kept that promise to your papa, i have a feeling mon coeur, that your future in formula 1 will be as bright and shiny as you, and you are going to get everything you deserve, i know you will"

and he chose to take solace in your words.

just like he took solace in your soul.

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you made your formula 2 debut alongside charles at Baku that year. everyday you were left more in awe of the powerful force that he was, ready to race in less than a week, because he felt he owed it to the man who made him who he was.

so you told him you'd go with him, be his support and be there for him when he needed you to most.

and you were left spellbound yet again, at his talent, his resilience, his drive, his passion.

p fucking 1. at a race that meant the world to him.

and as he ran towards you after, body colliding with yours so hard you swear some of your bones snapped, you told him everything you had to in your embrace.

rough racing gloves on delicate skin, frenzied pulling closer and harsh breathing. thats all you remembered from the moment, looking deep into his emerald ,knowing the media was having a field day.

"I'm so so so so proud of you so fucking proud" you whispered. "and i know your dad is too" you continued, pressing a small kiss to his helmet.

when he stood on the podium, tears streamed down your cheeks. you were so so so proud of him.

and as he looked down at you, he smiled, knowing you were always going to be his brightest star.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Charles' journey is formula 1 started with Sauber but you knew for a fact that he wouldn't stay there.

when kimi announced he was leaving ferrari, you called charles and screamed into his ears "YOURE GOING TO GET THAT FUCKING SEAT MARK MY WORDS" and he had simply chuckled saying he was hoping for the best.

so when in the middle of recording a song, your phone rang with charles' name, you dropped everything you were doing and picked up the phone.

"je l'ai fait. j'ai eu le siège"

"quoi?"

"le siège ferrari. j'ai compris. c'est à moi. je vais être pilote de ferrari pour 2019"

the scream you let out was so loud your producer jumped out of his skin.

"I'm so proud of you!! J'ai toujours su que tu l'aurais, tu mérites le monde et plus encore!!" you screamed, tears streaming down your face and you heard charles laugh.

"merci, mon cherie. i will celebrate with you soon" he chuckled.

"obviously you will!! I'll be home soon, let me just finish this album first and then I am all yours" you laughed.

oh how you longed to be all his. it's all you'd ever wanted since you were a teenager.

charles' heart ached.

oh how he longed for you to be all his. it was all he'd ever wanted since he was a teenager.

later that day, you wrote the song feels like.

social media had a breakdown.

charles had a breakdown.

but that's mainly because he'd rather you wrote a love song about him.

unbeknownst to him, you had atleast a 100 lovesongs written about him.

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clicking your pen for the hundredth time, you let out a sigh.

this songwriting thing was so frustrating.

it seemed like you had a billion ideas but nothing compact came out of it.

with a deep sigh, you let your hand crash against the piano, letting the discordant notes ring in your apartment.

but the ending caught your attention.

humming, you grabbed your pen again, jotting down, scribbling down all the things you wanted to say but never would.

being a singer had always been, and just as charles was flourishing in his career, you were flourishing in yours. you had already won a grammy for your album 'nostalgia' and had won amas, Brit awards, and 2 vma awards.

'the rising star of pop' was what they affectionately called you.

you had stunned the world with your versatility and range and the depth of your songs. ballads like gravity and last kiss had shown your emotional depth. songs like when I get there and make you feel my love had showing your delicate, romantic, vulnerable side. songs like happier reflected your pain.

your song fat funny friend had shot you into the global scene when you released it as a single. millions of fans wrote to you, thanking you for being vulnerable so others could feel seen.

and of course, no one picked up on the secret ballads for charles, pinning it down to young love and romance that was usual for all people your age.

so as you finally finished the song and smiled, you knew they wouldn't guess for this one either.

but you would know.

and so you sent it to be your next single.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

summer break rolled around, and you had a new mission - confessing your feelings for charles.

you were sure the timing was right.

you had to tell your best friend in the whole world that you were madly in love with him.

you told pascale, who squealed and told you "welcome to the family officially!!' earning a laugh from you.

"let me tell the boy first maman, then I'll tell you what he says"

"of course he'll say he loves you too! i know my son cherie, he's been in love with you since you were children, he's just too stupid to do anything about it" she joked affectionately and you laughed.

"j'espere que tu as raison maman. i love him very much" you admitted, blushing a little.

"of course darling. come to dinner tonight, everyone will be there, you can tell him then" she smiled, and you got up to go get dressed, pressing two kisses to her cheek.

back home, you nervously scouted your cupboard to see what you could wear. you showered and washed your hair, and put on a red dress that charles had gifted you when he got his seat.

smiling at the memory, you put on your makeup, did your hair and took a deep breath.

you were really going to do it. you were going to tell the man you had loved your whole life that you loved him.

the drive to the leclercs house was nerve wracking, and ringing the doorbell to their home was even more nerve wracking. you saw lorenzo there already, and he rose to greet you, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

"how are you y/n? i haven't spoken to you in a long time no?" he asked, sitting down next to you.

"I'm good enzo, very busy with recording. howve you been? I'm sorry i haven't been keeping in touch, I've just been very busy" you apologised, feeling guilty for not spending a lot of time with the oldest Leclerc.

"don't be silly, soeur, i understand you are busy. and your music, it's been a joy to listen to. you're truly a talent, ma belle" he said, and you could feel yourself getting emotional.

"aw, enzo, meri beaucoup, votre avis est très important pour moi" you said, giving him another hug.

he poured you a glass of wine, a small smile playing on his lips.

"so, is tonight finally the night?" he asked with a smirk, remembering how smitten you were for his brother.

you blushed, taking a sip of your wine to cover for it.

"yes, I'm going to tell him tonight" you admitted and he flashed you a warm smile of encouragement.

"Tell who what?" a voice interrupted, and the youngest leclerc plopped himself down next to you.

"y/n/n's going to tell charlie she loves him" lorenzo stated matter of factly, making you Tut and whack his arm.

"quoi? are we not telling arthur?" he asked, feigning hurt.

"i was going to tell him" you whined and then you turned to arthur.

"you must swear to not bring this up until it's over okay?" you told arthur, trying and failing to be stern.

arthur pretended to be hurt.

"of course I won't? what do you take me for, a gossip box?"

"yes" you and lorenzo chimed in unison.

arthur gasped dramatically, making you roll your eyes.

"do you really think that low of me?" he asked, pretending to cover his eyes in agony.

"yes, now shush, i think i heard the bell ring" Lorenzo said, getting up to open the door.

you bit your lip nervously, preparing for charles to walk in the day.

and he did. he looked gorgeous as ever, in a shirt the cover of deep red wine, hair tousled by the wind on his drive, but his eyes and smile were as bright as ever.

your heart started beating so fast you swore you almost had a heart attack.

but nothing could have prepared you for what he said next.

"everyone, i want you to meet charlotte"

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a/n - aaaand drum roll please 🥁 cliffhanger!!

i promise i won't leave you hanging but this was getting too long and it needed some ✨spice✨ i know this wasn't the best and the timeline wasnt cohesive but I needed to get this out of my system so pls go easy on your girl.

feedback, comments,opinions, reblogs and likes are always appreciated 🩷

hope you had a good read!! much love always xoxo

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masterlist

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