#the small ones are bad enough when drama kicks off | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

luminiamore · 1 month

Text

ALLURE.

plug connie springer x black stripper reader

warnings: boy is down bad, a little bit of mikasa x reader??, mikasa is famous heree, connie is a tease, he’s also hispanic asf, ya’ll didn’t even make it to the club, hints of yandere, mirror action, he fucks u while he’s crossfaded, wall sex, he talks a lot, dude is rambling, good ole cream pie, gotta love breeding

a/n: i got carried away (⌒_⌒;)

can you guys tell i like my men desperate lol, this is so long i might make this a series (4.9k words)

one down, like five more to goooo

masterlist

The lifestyle of stripping was something you truly couldn’t get enough of. The late nights. The smooth poles. Dancing on those smooth poles. And most importantly, the money. Oh fuck, how you loved the money. Living the fast life gave you such a rush that you adored it just as much as you hated it.

It’s not your first choice, not by a long shot. You were raised in Jamaica, New York. And your parents., you loved them. Honestly, you did, but you would probably be the most miserable person in the world if you kept heeding their strict Christian views.

You tried everything to reach up to their impossibly high standards. They wanted you to get an A in every assignment? Try A+. They wanted you to wear less revealing clothes because ‘No man will ever want you’? You’re showing up to your classes in turtlenecks just to keep their mouths shut.

You even made it a routine to clean the entire house top to bottom on Sundays since they started complaining that ‘You never do anything around this house.’ It was beyond annoying. You were fucking tired.

Growing up in Notre Dame School of Manhattan was nothing short of horrible. Proclaimed ‘good girls’ snorting more than half a line of coke in the school bathrooms. Drugs you aren’t even sure how they got access to, but then again, they are rich white kids. Teachers and hypocritical professors pretend to be oblivious to the bullshit drama their students are in. Your parents’ oblivion for keeping you here is even greater. Even after sharing stories with them, they would advise you to be more like the students at your school.

It was a miracle you didn’t turn out that far gone, despite what your profession is currently. You’ve smoked a little weed here and there. Experience some sort of awakening tripping off shrooms the weekend your parents took a trip to Barbados.

Without you, of course. Despite this, you were always taken care of. Your differences in opinion would never justify their abandonment of you. You knew they loved you when they got you a ticket to see The Weeknd live after you got a perfect score on your final, not after telling you their opinions on the matter, of course.

‘I don’t know why you listen to such devil music.’

‘I should’ve never gotten you this trash.’

The guilt you felt for wanting to have fun kept you from almost going. You went anyway, choosing to avoid allowing their misery to affect you.

Everything was fine; you played along with this draining game, and everything was fine. Until they decided to kick you out for finding a small baggie of blow (that wasn’t even yours) peeking out from the top of your purse. You don’t even know how it got there.

Honestly, you didn’t. You tried to communicate that while they were packing all the clothes they could find in your closet into two medium-sized luggage bags. But they wouldn’t listen, opting for screaming so loud you could see the neighbors peeking through the window. At the very least, they were kind enough not to throw them onto the concrete ground. Their stubbornness was unyielding. You just couldn’t get through to them.

You were able to rent an apartment you had put a deposit on a month before this happened because of the money in your savings account. Unfortunately, your funds were only sufficient for rent for two months due to groceries and other necessities.

When graduation came, your parents were nowhere to be found, so you realized that you had to find a means of earning money before you ended up sleeping on the streets.

You tried looking for a ’regular’ job -- a barista, a waitress, even applied to be a fucking bartender. It’s not as easy as it seems when those who already have one talk about finding a job. Why do they claim that they need to hire immediately and yet still reject you? Considering that your lack of work experience prevents you from being hired, you feign a little on your resume. Turns out, you’re not a very good liar.

Where was pretty privilege when you needed it?!

Despite applying to 500 companies, none could offer you a job within the next two weeks, which happened to be when your rent was due.

You really had no other option. You took your pretty ass and marched to the nearest club. Which happened to be the... Hustlers club? Why did that sound familiar?

Upon entering, you outright demanded to speak with the person in charge, and when you saw him, he demanded that he offer you a job. Lucky for you, the owner happened to be there that day. He observed the little moment you had when you stormed in..well, he observed the way your tits bounced in your low-cut tee and immediately pulled you into his office.

He had the thought that you would make him a lot of money if you worked for him, and he’s sure his business partner would agree if she saw you. He just had to make sure.

A figure appeared in the corner, striking up from the edge of his desk and making a slight sniffling noise. A girl, a beautiful one with distinct Asian features. Her leather skirt was short, only barely covering past 2 inches of her thigh. Her tits were pushed up to a necklace in a black corset-like top. An ornamental gold necklace.. with the letter M.

Wait. Is that-

That’s where it dawned on you why the name of this club sounded so familiar. On a random Tuesday afternoon, you find yourself standing in front of a celebrity. You were standing in front of Mikasa Ackerman. The Mikasa Ackerman. As in, owner of Mirror Palais, the highest-paid model in Japan, co-owner of one of the best clubs in New York, Mikasa Ackerman. Oh shit.

You remember seeing her on an Instagram reel in front of this very club, along with the other owner. The other owner, his name was.. what was it again? He swivels you around to face him, almost as if he hears your thoughts,

“Eren Yeager, sweetheart.”

A soft handshake accompanied by a gentle tone. He was quick to introduce you to the beautiful eyes that stayed fixed on your face since you walked into the dimly lit room. Eren guides you towards the brown leather couch where his friend is sitting,

“And, this is the lovely Mikasa. I’m sure you sure you know who she is.”

Feeling intimidated by her intense gaze, you nodded quickly and stumbled a bit when introducing yourself. Her following words didn’t calm your nerves anyhow,

“A real pleasure meeting you, beautiful.”

Eren could tell that Mikasa already liked you; the girl was practically fucking you with her eyes. But he wasn’t here for that; he cleared his throat to draw attention to him in the room. He had a goal in mind: to get you signed up. Eren wanted you dancing in his club today.

He sits you down and swiftly gets into business mode.

‘What kind of position are you looking for?’

‘What’s the minimum salary you want to earn here?’

He tries to get a sense of what you’re looking for before proposing to work as a stripper. Although he wants you to, he can compromise. Server position and the minimum salary you asked for was $65,000.

“And I’m not leaving til I get that or something better.”

Well, you wanted better, right? Eren explains to you that his club didn’t have any more waitress positions and Mikasa...

Well, that day, you found out that she was really good with words. She did a great job at convincing you that you’d make double the amount you asked for moving your perfect body on the pole. I mean...

“Look at that body of yours. You’d be pretty famous here, sweetheart.”

And shit, she was right. You really couldn’t blame the girls who never wanted to leave, simply too addicted to the drugs, to the fast life, especially to the money. The amount of money you made every night was simply insurmountable. And you found it funny because it wasn’t just the money. Really, it wasn’t.

The sensation that occurs when your lower body rotates on the pole. The art of dancing like this ignited such a passion from you. The attention, from the men and the women. One of the most popular clubs in the city had you as a crowd favorite. You knew it shouldn’t be something you liked; you never wanted to get too wrapped up in a life like this. But shit, it was sensational.

You didn’t let it slip, even though you shined on the stage. There are people who would take advantage of you even more if they knew you actually enjoyed what you do; you know this. When it was time to go, you left with no hesitation. You had to remind yourself of what you were here for, to provide and care for yourself until you find a better job.

And you stuck to that goal for a solid five months; nothing deterred you. Of course, that’s what you’re thinking. In reality, from the very first moment Eren had you on that pole, you found yourself coming back for one reason. Even if you weren’t subconsciously aware of it, him.

Connie, you heard the owner greet one day. He was definitely attractive. There was something about him, something about how he threw money at you and only you. Your body shivered without fail due to the gray eyes that watched your every move. The way he man spreads and tilts his head back when taking a hit, revealing neck tattoos that you know cover his stomach under that black Nike Tech hoodie. He was so fucking fine.

Only a few men can pull off a buzz cut. How does he do it so effortlessly? Maybe it was the color? How would he change it like it was nothing every two weeks?

You noticed he had a thin mustache, and when you got closer to his face.. Fuck. Was that a diamond nose ring?

He was a drug dealer. You caught that three months ago. Around that point, he began asking for you to exclusively serve his section. Eren had no problem with that; after all, this was his friend. But Connie started getting.. greedy. He wanted more than that. He started getting bold. He wanted your body on that twirling solely for him.

“Hell no.”

Eren filled the quiet section. Your body was followed by both green and gray eyes as you moved on the stage, with Connie’s eyes being more intense and focused compared to the other. The thriving club was filled with both of them enjoying a glass of Richard Hennessy Cognac in the VIP area.

Connie never had a good relationship with mixing Henny and weed. He was aware of that. He has a tendency to indulge in sinful thoughts. He didn’t let that stop him from rolling the blunt anyway.

His mind would get drawn towards dangerous places, mainly when he saw you. The way your thong disappeared between your cheeks under your lacey two-piece made him ready to fuck you right there. To show those perverted and prickly eyes that stuck like glue onto you that they could never have you. That you were his. Or, you will be.

Connie hasn’t even fucked you yet. Hasn’t gone anywhere near the sticky wetness he knows you have in between your legs.

You two indulge in what you could only describe as subtle grinding in the back rooms. All the dancing that you’re supposed to be doing on the pole, you’re doing on his lap instead. It was against the rules; you especially knew this. That didn’t stop either of you. Well, more so Connie than you.

At first, his best friend was against it. The customers you brought in were earning him at least $100k a night. While his other show girls were beautiful, you radiated a different type of aura onto the stage. You were something different. It was genuinely insane how you could move, you didn’t even have prior training. You found that every night, you got better than the previous; it was a natural talent.

Connie, being Connie, offered Eren twice that amount for every night he gets to spend with you alone. That was every night you were on the clock, besides, he had no problem making that back by the next day. When it came to his girl, there was never a problem for him.

And Connie never regretted the amount he spent on you. Being alone with you was something he had grown to crave incessantly. To him? It was worth it. He’d get so excited to just walk into the back room and find you waiting for him. All pretty, just tempting him to ruin you. Then, when you start performing in front of him, your body moves in a way that would hypnotize the stoic man.

And it wasn’t just your body to Connie. There was a certain allure to you. He was observant of the way you moved, spoke, and behaved. He understood that someone like you doesn’t come by every day. He just had to have you, own you. Your body, your fucking soul, everything you possessed, he wanted it for himself. He didn’t care if it sounded selfish; he’s okay with being that when it comes to you.

It’s reasonable to assume that he would have the final say on what you wear for him since he was the only person you would dance for, right? That was the route he took to get your number. That’s the reason you got a text from him while you were getting ready to shower for your night shift.

One of his friends- Was he talking about Mikasa?

You could have given it more thought, but your shift was only an hour away, and Connie was on his way. Using a small gray towel, you drape it onto the fat of your wet boobs. Your hands lather your Shea Butter oil on the top of your left thigh quickly, but you stop when your doorbell rings.

“Coming!”

You yelp, quickly slip on your slippers, and move toward the door. The man had always taken you home, and on the other side of the coin, he always took you to work. You didn’t bother asking how he knew your address the first time, afraid that it would spark an answer you’re not ready to hear. Occasionally, if you were too intoxicated to carry yourself to your apartment, he would act as your knight in shining armor and hold you in bridal fashion to your door without saying a word.

It should have been simple enough: he goes in and gets out. And it would have been that simple if he hadn’t seen your pink lacy thong loosely hanging off your door knob. He was simply a man, one who desired to feel every part of you. The tip of that thong was hanging out of his pockets when Connie left your apartment that night.

Swinging your door open makes you almost breathless. Connie was a tall person. Everything about him just screamed: big. He was easily over 6 feet 2 inches tall, and he came to your door carrying a medium-sized shopping bag. You step back, observing as he comes in right after taking his slides off by your door.

“You’re here early, Con. I’m not ready yet.” You whisper, still a little perplexed he’s already here. Despite the amount of money you know he has, you rarely ever see him in anything other than a white tee and black sweats. Today was no different. Minor differences in each pair made it clear that they were different every time. You suppose it had something to do with his dangerous line of work.

He hands you the cream-colored bag, and his eyes never leave your lips all the while. You suddenly became very conscious that you were breathing the same air as Connie, who appeared right in front of you. He leans in, the ghost of his lips felt against your collarbone,

“You smell good,” His tatted hands sneakily climbed their way onto your wide hips. Before muttering a curse under his breath, he squeezes once. For the first time since meeting you, Connie isn’t being truthful. He didn’t come to your apartment to take you to your job. Tonight, he had different intentions.

He came tonight to put a full stop to the cat-and-mouse game that you guys have been playing for the past five months. Two fully packed blunts and three shots of Don Julio convinced him that his attraction towards you was not going away.

He should’ve realized it when he started making a habit of watching over you outside of the strip club. She needs someone to protect her, he thinks. You don’t pay attention to your surroundings. You have no idea, don’t you? Your beauty could easily lead to someone from the club becoming obsessed and following you. Anyone who wasn’t him.

He also should’ve realized it when he started beating his dick into overstimulation to your pictures on Instagram. And after your shift. Of course, before your shift. Eren witnessed him having to excuse himself during your shift because his dick was painfully throbbing against his boxers.

Connie really liked you. And somewhere in that twisted mind of his, he believed that you two were truly meant for each other. He should’ve never waited this long, “Put this on, ma.”

He pushes the bag towards your chest and moves your hips in the direction of your room. Your thighs twitch as you hum and make a little run to the end of your hall. He follows after you slowly, eyes shifting to the way your ass peaks out from under the towel.

This scene feels oddly familiar. A predator stalking its prey, just waiting for the right moment to pounce. You didn’t know what Connie came here to do; in your mind, you were just getting ready for work. He almost felt sorry for you, almost felt sorry for how he was going to ruin you, almost.

He made sure to take his time approaching your door so that you could be ready and prepared for him when he arrived. And you didn’t disappoint. In front of your vanity makeup mirror, you were sat on the cushion chair. Applying what looked like oil from a flower bottle onto your neck.

You look better in the dress than he expected. Your fat tits sitting so perfectly, and the lace meshing with your skin. You pretended to ignore him behind your seat, starting to feel the weight of his presence around you. This was probably the thinnest item you had ever owned, yet his hands pressing on your shoulders made your skin feel like it was on hot volcanic soil.

You catch his eye in the mirror, and despite your flustered state, he doesn’t grant you the satisfaction of looking away. Not even while his hands lower down to your rib cage, right under your plush boobs. Especially not even while his giant palms wrap around the fabric covering your nipple in a tight grip.

You gasp, a moan bottling in your throat, “C-Con!”

It could have been the way you uttered his name or the way your head pressed against his chest. Regardless, Connie lost control and dropped his head into the crook of your neck, beginning to sprinkle small, wet kisses. He grips harder, and you... you get louder.

“You drive me fucking insane,” Your flesh is now exposed to his hands as they slip into the dress. “Skin so soft,” He kneads his hands into your chest, squeezing as if he’s hoping milk will pour out of them. He groans, “God, you’re so perfect mama.” The thought of that makes a shiver run down his body.

Poor Mikasa, she spent all night working on that dress once she heard it was for you. Connie didn’t even let it last for a good ten minutes before you heard a faint rip sound in the midst of your whimpers.

Your brain is struggling to keep up with the speed of everything happening. You attempt to tilt your head back, but he shuts it down right away. “Eyes on the mirror.” He moves one hand to your throat, keeping you still. You feel your body shake under his hold, twitching slightly from his small attack. You didn’t have the courage to look away, not even as far as you could.

“I’ve been so patient.” Squeezing your left nipple, he drops his fingers down the ripped material until they reach the top of your pussy lips. “Cumming to the thought of your pretty face like a fucking teenager,” His words bring a mewl to your lips. Your body starts sweating, nervous at the way his fingers are just rubbing circles around your skin.

Would he pull away if your hips jerked against his hand? You hoped against all odds that he wouldn’t. You’ve never allowed yourself to feel this desperate for anyone, but being around Connie left you like this. You were at a loss for what to do. Your thoughts were racing to find something, anything, that would bring him closer to you.

It’s unclear what motivated him to answer your prayers. But in the next moment, he pushed his middle finger into the center of where your slick was overflowing onto the cushion. He creates slight tap sounds with the puddle between your fat lips, playing with you.

Your eyes close for just a second and burst wide open when you feel a sudden intrusion in your sticky hole. “A-Ah!” A sob leaves your lips, your eyes falling back to your face in the mirror when you register his next words,

“Eyes on the mirror, mama. I haven’t done anything to you yet,” As Connie slowly moves his fingers into and out of your dripping core, his eyes struggle to keep track of your face in the mirror or the stain you’re beginning to make on his digits.

He settles with the stain you’re creating. He’s massaging your walls in a way that you can’t help but cover them in a creamy white. It’s impossible not to moan with shaky breaths, whispering his name. He figures the wait was worth it. His dreams couldn’t have prepared him for the real thing. It was more noisy, was more sticky, and it was.. real.

What do you taste like?

Your hips shake as he suddenly removes his fingers from you. You whimper, annoyed by the absence of the touch of fingers on your wet walls, but you stop yourself when you see his movements in the mirror. His mouth wraps around his middle and ring finger, sucking your juices to the fullest. Your breathing stops when he moans, “You taste so fucking good.”

Connie silently pulls you up from your seat and presses you against the nearest wall, causing the ripped dress to fall to the floor. Instantly, your back arched into the prominent bulge that was pressing on your bare ass. Your thoughts wander back to your last session with Connie in the backroom. All that desperate grinding.

“You were squeezing so tight around my fingers,” He pushes his sweat down to remove his throbbing hard dick with a little effort. “Y’gonna squeeze my dick like that next?”

Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!

You jump every time the base of his cock slaps down on your ass. Both of his hands grip your sides, his eyes rolling back as he slides his dick back and forth in between your leaking pussy lips.

“Oh f-fuck! Connie,”

Your voice cracks when you call out for him, and he smiles. He cannot deny that this is the perfect thing; it was always meant to be like this. He spreads your cheeks as wide as he can, lining his tip up to your hole that’s clenching around nothing.

“Yeah, b-baby?” Fuck, you were so wet. “Want me to fuck you? Want- Oh fuck. Want Connie to make you scream?”

Your lips tremble, and you try to slide his dick inside you by pushing your hips back. He lets you, too weak himself, to stop you from taking what you wanted. All you can think right now is Connie, Connie, fucking Connie.

“Shittt. Want y-y’to to make me cum! P-please!”

Pushing him even further inside without his help proves to him that you truly want him to make you scream. You’re barely making it halfway with his thick and long build. Connie is incredibly proud of you right now, taking his dick like a desperate bitch and moaning to fuck the rest of his inches in.

He pulls a little of himself out of you, only to flush his hips abruptly against yours with one single push. Groaning at the same time you gasp out, he whispers in your ear, “Scream for daddy, mama.”

You were so full. His cock tip was touching places that you’ve never been to on your own before, causing your mind to go haywire. His pressure against your cervix was so intense it would have been painful if you weren’t so wet. You oblige almost embarrassingly quickly the moment you feel his dick drag at a steady pace inside of you.

Connie regrets not having done this sooner, as the drugs he took earlier are still mixing in his system, alternating and speeding up his thoughts. His body was ablaze. You’re covering the entire length of his dick with your juices, causing him to become frantic and desperate to get more out of you. His thrusts match his crave. You were warm, and your cries were heaven to his ears, “Big! Y’re so b-big, daddy!”

You’re not complaining, far from it, as he tears your pussy to shreds. In fact, you’re taking him so well, and he praises you for it. Like he said, you were made for this moment, for him. You’re such a,

“Good girl. Fuck! My g-good girl takes me so well,”

He can hear your slick drip on the floor below you despite the smacking sound in your room. You’re so needy for him, as he is for you. The walls echoed with your wailing sounds as you fucked him back, making Connie shudder.

He’s gonna cum. He can feel his balls churning as they slap repeatedly against your twitching clit. Fuck. He’s gonna cum so deep inside you he prays it reaches your womb. Although it’s his first time exploring the depths of your perfect cunt, he recognizes that you’re also going to cum.

He can tell by the way your legs are shaking rapidly, by the way, your moans get higher in pitch, by the way, you’re whispering his name out like a prayer. And he’s determined to make you cum before him. Do you squirt? Do you cream? He thinks he’ll die and go to heaven if it’s both. Your next plea erupts another groan to tumble out his mouth,

“M’gonna- M’gonna cum! O-oh fuck- M’gonna cum so h-hard.”

Holding your arms behind your back with his tatted hand, he moves his hips inside you at a faster pace than ever before. “Shit. Me t-too, mama.” He angles his waist to keep pressing into that spongy spot that makes you tremble. “Just like that. Cum, baby. C-cum all over this fat dick.”

Small tears start to fall down your brown cheeks, and your back arches sharply on Connie, causing your stomach to clench at once. The man above you receives both your cream and squirt splashing from your sweet core, and you weep. Your muffled moans fill the air as he cranes your neck towards him for a nasty, drooling kiss.

As he gets closer to his orgasm, his rapid thrusts become sloppy and crazed, and his heart beats twice as fast as he sees the beauty fucked out underneath him. The more Connie moved inside of you, the more he swayed. Your essence was covering his lower half so much that he couldn’t wait another minute before dumping his kids against your cervix, a shaky moan accompanying his release.

His thrusts slow down, causing tiny drops to spill onto the floor, but his lips never leave yours, and he has to remind himself to let you breathe when you start to whine against his mouth. He lets you go and instead presses tiny kisses against your panting mouth.

Both of you, Connie in particular, were on cloud nine. Your clenching onto him brings Connie’s mind back to Earth, but he is not satisfied. He wanted to go again. He needed it, so it was only natural he started moving at a steadfast pace inside you again.

“Again. Let’s go a-again, mama. Shitt. Your pussy is so-”

Before that night, you’ve never experienced pleasure on this level. Connie took you, on every corner of the house. Both of you left unaware of Eren’s multiple missed calls as he fucked his cum into you like a dog in heat. It’s safe to say that you didn’t show up for work that night or the night after. Connie made sure you never danced at a strip club again.

@hatake05 @thickbihhwitdagapp 🫶🏾

1K notes · View notes

callme-dickmaster · 1 year

Text

Headboard

summary: eddie buys a headboard (and frame) for his bed but there's something... off about it.

pairing: eddie x fem!reader - no use of y/n

cw: 18+ (minors dni) this is obnoxiously long, established relationship, L-bombs, pet names, mentions of nosebleed, accidental injury, small abuse mention (nothing bad), mentions of sex, funny shit, teasing, wayne being an icon, eddie being a goofy dork, -I think that's all-

author's note: hey y'all 😩 I've been gone for a bit lol. All I've had time for is scrolling and not being able to write has been so depressing tbh. That with all the holidays and family drama I got going on rn has been so stressful omg. But I'm heree I'm writing now that I have a free minute to myself. Soo thanks for being patient love you! <3

(NOT PROOFREAD)

Eddie huffed, putting his hands on his hips as he glared at the bed frame and headboard sitting on his bedroom floor. Wayne hummed, tilting his head to look at the picture on the white headboard.

"Well, son, I didn't know princesses were your style!" he chuckled. Eddie rolled his eyes, running a hand through his hair. "They're not! Dude didn't tell me it was his daughter's headboard!" he whined.

Wayne laughed, clapping a hand on Eddie's shoulder. "Look, I'll run down to Melvald's and get you some paint. What you think? Bubblegum pink?" Wayne asked before busting out laughing.

Eddie crossed his arms, glaring at his uncle, "Oh, you think you're so funny. Well, I'll just put it on backwards so no one can see it. How about that?" he said. Wayne snorted and put his hands up in surrender. "Suit yourself!" he said before walking out of the room. Eddie sighed, grabbing a hair tie sitting on his bed, and pulling his hair up into a bun.

The only reason he got the damn thing was because of you. There were too many times during sex when he couldn't catch himself on the wall in time before falling on top of you. One trip to the ER after giving you a nosebleed was enough for him. So, he searched until he found a guy that was getting rid of a bed frame and headboard for a twin XL which was perfect. Only he didn't realize until he brought it home and took it out of the box that it was his ten-year-old daughter's headboard that had Disney princesses all over it.

Eddie sat on his floor, screwing together the bars that made up his bedframe until it came time to face the princesses. Eddie turned the headboard so it faced the wall and tried to screw it in backwards like he said. "Don't look at me like that. I didn't ask for you," Eddie snapped at Snow White. He rolled his eyes and continued his attempts with no such luck.

"Hey, boy. Your girl's here and I'm gonna go get you that paint. And don't worry, I won't get pink I promise," Wayne chuckled. Eddie snorted and thanked him, "Black, please. If you don't mind. If the pink is cheaper go on ahead," he joked. Wayne saluted him, grabbed his keys, and left. He ran into you on his way to his truck and he just had to tell you what was going on.

"Eddie got a bedframe and it's... not what he wanted. So I'm getting him some paint. You want anything while I'm out, dolly?" Wayne asked. You smiled and shook your head, "No, I'm alright. Thank you though! I'll go see what this dork is up to. I'll hold up the fort while you're gone. God knows what Eddie'll do alone," you laughed. Wayne laughed and ruffled your hair before hopping in his old truck and driving away.

You walked into the trailer and kicked off your shoes before wandering into Eddie's room and laughing at him sitting criss-cross on the floor trying to screw on a headboard the wrong way. "You look goofy," you snickered. "Jesus! Baby, you scared the shit out of me!" Eddie exclaimed, putting a hand on his chest.

You smiled and flopped down on his bed. Eddie gave up on his project and leaned down to kiss you instead. "Got a headboard so I can't abuse you anymore," Eddie snickered, bopping your nose to prove his point. You laughed and rolled your eyes, "It was one time 'ya goober!" you giggled, bopping him back.

"Still! At least now I can do that super hot and sexy headboard maneuver when we do it," Eddie said, doing air thrusts and pretending to smack someone's ass. You smacked your hand to your forehead, but you had to laugh anyway. Eddie snickered and flicked some stray hairs out of his face. "Wayne tell you he was getting paint?" he asked, sitting on the floor in front of you and rubbing circles into your calves. You smiled, playing with his hair as best you could in its bun. "Yeah. What's wrong with it anyway? Looks like a normal ass headboard," you asked.

Eddie sighed, going over to the stupid thing and turning it to show you the problem. You covered your mouth before bursting into laughter.

"Don't laugh!" Eddie grumbled, pouting and squinting at Cinderella's mocking smile. You giggled, wiping an imaginary tear from your eye. "I'm not laughing at you! I just think it would be fucking hilarious if we were doing it and Snow White was staring you down!" you laughed.

Eddie curled his lips in, trying to pretend like that wouldn't be funny. "Look, just- when Wayne comes back will you help me paint?" Eddie asked, "I'll make you popcorn and we can watch a movie after?" he offered to sweeten the pot. You hummed and faked having to think about it before you smiled and agreed. Eddie cupped your cheeks and kissed you as a thank you, planting tiny kisses all over your face after.

"Okay! Okay! Don't smother me, goof," you giggled.

"I just love you."

"I love you too, but you're squishing my cheeks, dear."

"I'm so sorry, baby," Eddie breathed, holding a handful of tissues to your bleeding nose. You side-eyed him and sighed. "I thought you said the headboard was gonna fix this problem. I think it might've broken this time," you said. Eddie winced, reaching over to the tissue box the hospital receptionist gave you two.

"I'm really sorry. I tried to catch myself! I just... missed?" Eddie said, cringing. You snickered and sighed, tossing your clump of tissues away and grabbing more. "It's okay. It'll be a funny story to tell the kids someday," you said.

"We're not telling the kids you broke your nose having sex!"

small a/n: it's been a while lol but hopefully this is alright :)

4K notes · View notes

touyaism · 6 months

Text

better than him — touya todoroki

(cross posted from ao3)

wc: 5,272

content: your boyfriend cheated on you, again, and your older brother isn't pleased (or is he?)

warnings: dubcon, incest, minor voyeurism

You nearly threw your phone at the wall when you got the message.

The text was wordless, with only a single video attached from your best friend. It didn’t need an explanation; the video spoke for itself. Your boyfriend was with another girl again, even in the dull atmosphere of the club and through the bad quality of the Snapchat recording, you could make out his stupid face and the hickeys on his neck as clear as day. The taller woman was all over him, hands digging into his hair, pulling his face closer to hers, and you watched as he smiled against her, letting her do as she pleased like he had every right to do so.

You’d had enough, you opted for screaming into your pillow just to let some of the rage out. You could still hear the video blaring on your phone, the club's loud music sounding obnoxiously through the small device. Part of you wished you’d shown up to that event tonight, just so you could be there to beat his ass.

But no, instead, here you were, at eleven in the evening, screaming into your poor fluffy pillow. It felt good, sure, but you still felt like punching something (someone) afterwards. You slapped the pillow a few times, but it didn’t suffice (shocker).

You were only snapped out of your rage when someone knocked on your bedroom door.

“Hey,” Touya said, monotone and evidently fed up with your drama already. “The hell’s gotten into you?”

Your brother had weird ways of showing he cared, even though he would never admit to it. And more often than not, he wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“Go away,” you groaned. You weren’t in the mood for this. Not when you felt like punching someone.

“No,” he said, typical, and then somehow, forced your locked door open.

The sight he was presented with was you on your stomach, face planted into your pillows and your hair completely dishevelled. You kicked your feet on the bed out of frustration, the stuffies and blankets falling off your bed in the process.

“Fucking hell,” he took a step inside and shut the door behind him, locking it. “What I’m getting from this is that you’ve been possessed, am I right?”

“Sure feels like it,” you groaned through a mouthful of pillows, the anger laced in your words perfectly.

“Oh? What’s this?” He said with a smirk. You heard him shift closer and heard the sound of the video change as he took the phone. He rewound it to the beginning, and when he fully understood what was happening, he laughed like he wasn’t surprised at all. As frustrated as you were, you didn’t blame him. You knew he always hated the guy, and obviously, it was for good reason.

“What did I fucking tell you?” And at last, he turned your phone off so the video would stop playing. “Fuck, you want me to kill him for you?”

“No,” you said, finally turning over onto your back so you could face him. He was already in his pyjamas, red flannel pants and a plain white tee that sat perfectly on his frame. And by the way he was standing, you could tell he was angrier than he was letting on.

“Fuck, I wanna be the one to do it,” you continued.

He laughed at that, taking a seat on the end of your bed, picking up a few of the stuffies that had fallen off as he did so. You sat up to face him better, not bothering to readjust your clothes on your body. One of your loose straps was sliding down your shoulder, but it didn’t matter, not when you were comfortable around him. He was your family, after all.

“I don’t wanna see him with you again, got it?”

“Yeah, whatever,” you smiled, you knew he was serious by the way he was glaring at you, and you knew your brother well enough to know he wouldn’t hesitate to kill for you.

“That didn’t sound very convincing, swear it to me.”

“C’mon, Touya, who else do I have?”

“ What ?”

Oh, now you’d done it, hadn’t you?

“I need someone to keep me company, he fills the void sometimes,” you sighed. “I get lonely, you know?”

“No,” he snatched your phone from the bed, “I’m deleting his fucking contact.”

“Touya!” You reached over to grab it from him, but his free hand quickly pinned you down, your back hit the bed, and he hardly flinched as you struggled against him.

“Fuck, where is he? You got him under a fake name?”

“Touya!” You squirmed some more to no avail. “Let go!”

“No, fucking tell me where you put him,” he said, gripping onto your wrist tighter, but not once taking his eyes away from your phone screen, angrily scrolling through God knows what.

How he knew your password in the first place, you had no idea.

You groaned, knowing full well there was no way out of this, “I put him under ‘No Caller ID’.”

“Wow, how sneaky,” he said sarcastically. And just like that, he turned the screen around so you could watch him delete all traces of the contact.

“Whatever,” you rolled your eyes, turning your face away from him. “I’ll just be fucking lonely.”

“Hey,” he tossed your phone away with little regard for its safety. “How can you say something like that when you’ve got the coolest fucking brother in the world?”

“Huh? You tilted your head teasingly, “Natuso isn’t that bad, but you know that’s not what I mean when I say I’m lonely. Natsuo can’t help with�� some things.”

“Oh? Good thing I wasn’t talking about Natsuo , then,” there was a growl in his voice, and you knew you’d pissed him off, but you couldn’t help but taunt him further.

“Oh? Who’s my coolest brother then?”

With his other hand, he grabbed your free wrist, bringing it up and pinning it above your head beside the other.

“Me, and you fucking know it.”

“Whatever,” you shifted, trying to free yourself, but it was helpless, all it did was cause your clothing to become even more dishevelled on your frame. And even though you felt comfortable around him, you were beginning to feel humiliated, beneath him like this and showing off just a bit too much skin.

“You still can’t help in the ways I need, if you know what I mean,” your tone fell more serious, hoping it would convince him to back off. But if anything, he only got closer, drawing his face down, breathing just inches away from your face.

“Yeah? Why not?” He continued.

“You’re my brother, ” you tried to push him away, but he forced himself on top of you to restrict your movements, sitting so your hips were between his thighs.

“Think I give a shit?”

Your eyes widened and instantly met his. He was smirking, but you still searched his expression for any hint of humour. He had to be joking, right?

“What?” You shifted beneath him again, trying to ignore the odd way his body was pressing against yours, his crotch dangerously close to your own. You moved, not liking the way it only made him smile down at you harder, his grip around your wrists threatening to cut off the circulation. You really were trapped, and if it was anyone else, you’d probably feel scared, vulnerable and exposed like this.

“Touyaaa~” You whined, “Stop being weird, I’ll tell Mom on you.”

“Mm, will you?” His face was only inches from you now, you gulped and ground your teeth together to stay silent. There was no way you could explain something as weird as this to her, and he knew it just as well as you did. He began to close the gap between you, lips just ghosting over yours, your noses barely touching.

“C’mon,” he whispered, “I know I can be better than him.”

You felt like a stranger in your own skin, heart racing and stomach doing somersaults from the contact. You dug your nails into your trapped palms stupidly hard. He was too close, weirdly close. One hand holding your wrists in place, the other reaching down and sliding underneath your chin, eyes staring into yours like you were his prey.

You swallowed.

“You’re really serious, aren’t you?”

His tongue licked the corner of his mouth, and you pressed your knees together unconsciously. You began to wonder what would happen if you just lifted your head, just a little bit, just enough to press your lips against his. You wondered how he would taste, would it feel wrong? Would it feel just the same as it did with other guys? You wanted to know how he would kiss you, his sister, if it was rough or gentle, slow or wet and sloppy.

It took every fibre of your being to fight away those thoughts.

“Stop it, Touya,” you spat. Still mustering whatever strength you could to squirm away from his firm hold.

“Go on, call Mom,” he chuckled. That stupid grin was still painted across his face, taunting you, tempting you. And at last, he let go of your wrists. You sighed in relief, but even now, there was no way you could free yourself. Not when he was on top of you like this. Not when he was so much bigger than you. You shoved a hand out towards him and flinched when you felt his chest against your palm. It was warm, solid, and for a second, you could feel his heartbeat racing, chest heaving with heavy, frustrated breaths. You pulled away almost as fast as you touched him, but didn’t dare move again.

“Oh?” He taunted again. “Fucking fight it, go on.”

As soon as those words came out, the harshness of his language hit your ears, you were a goner. Completely and entirely lost beneath him. You couldn’t fight your body’s natural reactions much longer. And when it became unbearable to not do so, you bit the bullet, and pressed your lips to his.

And, fuck, his lips were so damn soft.

The snakebite piercings tickled your bottom lip, and when you opened your mouth to kiss him deeper, he didn’t hesitate to slide in, teasing your bottom lip with his tongue piercing and biting down gently. You tried to be gentle with him, really, to not rush into things like a starved person, but Touya was starved, hungry and angry. He kissed you like he had a fucking point to prove. A gasp slipped from you as his tongue grazed yours, and you reached up and grabbed onto his shirt with one hand, reaching up for his neck with the other.

There was a stark hardness on top of you as he straddled you. A large hardness that pressed between your legs deliciously. You broke the kiss as you rolled your hips against him, more desperate for any sort of friction than you would ever admit.

Touya laughed a bit at your desperation, “and you’re telling me I’m the one being weird.”

Fuck. You stalled yourself at that. What the fuck were you doing? You opened your eyes after pulling away from him as much as you could, but his cocky expression was unreadable.

“Oh, no” he smiled, reaching down to peck you on the lips once more, “I didn’t say to stop. ”

He rolled his hips, rolled that painfully obvious erection in his pants against your clothed pussy. You tried to fight back a moan, but your efforts in concealing your pleasure were futile when your heart was racing like this, when your breathing was speeding up like you’d run a marathon, even at only the smallest of movements.

“C’mon, sis,” he continued, placing a peck against the side of your neck, “I know you want this.”

You closed your eyes, trying to ignore his taunts, because fuck, you couldn’t deny it now, not when you’d come this far. You squirmed beneath him again, just to feel him, and as if he’d caught on, he pressed himself into you. Your imagination ran wild, making you want to know just how big it was, how it felt in your hands, inside you.

And when he groaned, you knew, well and truly, you’d reached the point of no return.

“Just once,” you breathed, “and we’ll never speak of this again, got it?”

“Mm,” light pecks on the side of your neck became wet kisses, trailing down toward your exposed collarbone. “We’ll see about that,” he muttered against your skin, and you melted beneath him.

His body ran hot naturally because of his quirk, hot hands traced your sides, playing with your loose shirt, pushing it upward and revealing most of your stomach. You let him, squirming about as if you were inviting him to take everything off.

“So eager,” he smiled, finally lifting your shirt just so it could slide over your tits, exhaling shakily at the way they sprung so easily from your shirt. You tried to cover up, but before you could, he had his hands all over you, grasping, groping, pinching.

“Touya…” The sensation was new to you, to have such warm, big hands all over you like this, like they’d been dying for this exact opportunity. “Don’t be so-”

Your words left you as quick as they came when his hot mouth met your chest, tongue beginning at your collarbones, sucking the tender flesh and making his presence known in the form of gentle hickeys and bite marks. Your back arched into the gentle pain, pressing your chest up into him. You felt him smile against your skin at your body’s reaction, not long before biting down harder, evidently craving more of your cute little reactions to him.

“Mm?” He hummed against you as if daring you to finish your sentence. You couldn’t. Your mind was blank, only Touya occupied it. Touya, your brother, and his warm mouth on your skin, wasting no time in venturing further down, making gentle marks on your tits, tracing dangerously close to your nipples and teasing your sensitivity.

And despite everything, the wrongness of it all, you wanted more of him. You wanted to feel him everywhere.

One of his fingers began tweaking your nipple, distracting you from his mouth quickly closing in around the other, circling his tongue around the gentle peak and taking it between his hot lips. The piercings on his mouth touched you in ways you’d never known possible - with a precision that had your legs shaking for him.

“Fuck,” you breathed out, looking down at him, one tit in his mouth, the other held captive by the sweet torture of his fingers. His eyes opened, icy blue and glaring at you were his next meal. Your breath hitched at the sight, but in no way were you scared.

You needed more. So much more.

You bit your lip and pushed against him, harder than before, hoping maybe he would take the hint. He bit down on your nipple, gentle, but hard enough for you to cry out his name.

“Shh,” he pulled away. “You really want someone to hear you?”

“Please,” you continued, arching your hips up into him again, this time, your voice coming out in a high-pitched, pathetically desperate whine.

And at last, one hand slipped beneath the waistband of your pants, casually slipping under and moving his hot fingers over your clothed cunt. He pressed down harder, rubbing gently where he knew your clit was, and you gasped.

“Wow,” he teased, “someone really is excited, huh?”

It wasn’t like you could help it, not when his big hands felt that good, touching and grabbing you like he knew your body better than anyone else. He shifted his body above you, giving him enough room to begin pulling down your pants. You moved your legs, making it easier for him to slip the fabric away. He tossed them toward the corner of your room, knocking something over in the process, and when you looked up to check, he pressed his lips against yours again, pushing you back down onto the bed and trapping your there, entirely bare beneath him.

He didn’t even give you a moment to breathe before his hands were tugging at the waistband of your underwear, pulling and grabbing until he gave in, tearing the material in two in one swift motion.

“Touya!”

“Hm?” His middle finger found your clit, and your eyes fell closed. “C’mon, tell me how much you fucking love all of this.”

You frowned at him, “just fucking do it.”

“Tell me,” he repeated, “tell me how much you love your brother's hands all over you.”

“Stop,” you breathed, something like dread or guilt filling your gut at his words. But judging by his expression, he felt nothing of the sort. He slid his tongue along his front teeth, maintaining that smirk like the asshole he was.

“So fucking wet for me,” he slid his finger through your folds, achingly slow. “You don’t need to say anything, I know you love it.”

You wanted to hit him, push him off your bed and call for someone to get him the hell out, but your hands were far too busy tugging on his shirt, aimlessly pulling and trying to get it off. He understood quickly, and momentarily took his hands away from you to quickly pull it over his head. He aimlessly tossed it away, and this time, you didn’t care where the hell it landed. As long as he got back to whatever he was doing.

“Poor thing,” he cooed, rubbing his thumb in gentle circles on your clit, his middle finger tracing your slit and teasing your entrance. “You know how wrong this is, but you just can’t bring yourself to fight it, can you?”

You dug your nails into his bare shoulders, almost hard enough to draw blood, but he only laughed as he pushed his finger in knuckle deep.

Without any warning, your grip on his shoulder loosened, but your whole body went tense. Even just one of his fingers filled you up so well, the warmth of it was enough to make your eyes roll back. He smirked when your hips started to buck against it when he didn’t move right away, as if he was pleased by just how desperate you were to feel more of him.

He stayed like that for a moment, simply letting you fuck yourself on his idle hand. And eventually, one finger became two, and he angled his hand in a way that allowed you to grind your clit into his palm. You could feel yourself growing wetter, spilling and leaking all over his hand. And if he hadn’t already felt it, he definitely heard it. The lewd squelching was the only sound to fill the silence except for the sound of both of you breathing, deep, heavy, and both of you undeniably desperate for more.

“Fuck,” you breathed, “don’t m-move.”

You were close already, you’d worked yourself up too much, and his fingers were too damn big, reaching every place inside you without him even having to move an inch. You were so close, and you’d gotten there all by yourself. All he had to do was stay still for a second longer.

You should’ve known Touya wouldn’t cooperate with you.

“Nah,” he pulled his fingers out, painfully slow, making sure to brush it against your clit on the way out. “Not yet.”

“F-fuck you,” you said, collapsing beneath him in an attempt to catch your breath. You heard only the obnoxious sound of Touya sucking his fingers clean above you. Groaning around them like you were the best thing he’d ever tasted.

It was fucking disgusting.

You loved it.

You wanted to know what his mouth felt like between your legs, tongue lapping you up while those big hands of his held your thighs, keeping you still for him while his shoulders forced your legs apart.

“Please, Touya,” you whined. He hovered above you, eyes raking your body as his hands came down to hold you by the waist.

“Poor thing,” he smirked, “about to cum already, and I’ve hardly done anything to you.” You shivered at his words, and when his eyes met yours again, your heart skipped a beat.

“Please-”

You were cut off by the sound of somebody moving outside. The sound of light footsteps was enough for both of you to freeze, staring at one another wide-eyed as someone made their presence known in the room next door.

Where your eyes showed fear and apprehension, Touya’s showed challenge - some sick kind of excitement. Without taking his eyes away from you, he tugged at the waistband of his pants, rough as if in a hurry to be rid of them. He made no effort to conceal the sound of his belt, tossing the heavy thing to the side of your room and allowing it to crash against the wall.

You were about to protest, to scold him and tell him to stop, but once he’d pulled his pants down enough to reveal his boxers, he held his palm over your mouth, fingers holding your jaw firmly and tilting your face up toward his. You whined as he palmed his cock through his boxers, and he chuckled when your eyes widened at the sight of it. Even through the tented fabric, you knew something that big would struggle to fit all the way inside of you. When your eyes slowly drifted back up to meet his gaze, the asshole looked way too damn pleased with himself. He bit his bottom lip with a shit-eating grin on his face, clearly more than ready to devour you, his sweet little sister, whole.

You glared at him dangerously as he pulled his boxers down, just enough to let his cock bounce out, the thing was twice as big as you’d imagined it, thick and the length of it adorned with various barbell piercings.

You learnt something new about your brother every day, huh?

The ring on his tip was larger than the rest, already glistening in precome and just begging to tease the deepest spots inside of you.

With his boxers pulled down around his thighs, Touya moved his hands down to your thighs, forcefully pulling them apart to make room for him to get even closer. You exhaled through your nose as he ran his fingers between your folds again, smiling that same cocky grin as he pushed two fingers inside of you again, curling them right against your desperately needy g-spot. You clamped your eyes shut, fearful to make even the smallest of sounds as the person just outside continued to make noise by your bedroom door. Your nerves danced in your stomach as Touya shifted closer, and when you felt his bare erection against your thigh, your stomach flipped.

His fingers left you again as soon as he felt you begin to shake, the bastard.

And then you felt him press the head against your entrance. He teased it, moving ever so slightly so the coldness of his piercing could be known, and just when it got too much, he pulled his palm away from your mouth.

You gasped for air, as if your supply was somehow going to run out. “Touya-”

“Shh,” Touya soothed as he lifted up one of your legs to rest against his chest. You allowed him to do so, but not without making the apprehension visible in your expression.

There was no way you could be quiet like this, and whoever was outside was bound to catch on.

He pressed his cheek against your calf and waited for your body to relax before carefully pushing himself all the way inside - slowly, agonisingly so, but somehow still nowhere near slow enough to allow you to adjust to his size.

And fuck, did he stretch you fucking perfectly.

You whined, pathetically and far too loudly. But that didn’t matter, because evidently, Touya didn’t give a fuck about who heard you. He pulled out and shoved himself inside with no warning as if it was his goal to break you, to provoke you, to let them hear all of your adorable sounds.

He gripped you firmly and pushed in again harder, balls slapping against your ass as he bottomed out inside you. You had to bite your lip to stop yourself from crying out, and fuck, it didn’t even matter anymore, because you didn’t want him to stop. You needed him to keep moving to give you some sort of relief from the pressure in your gut. You needed him to fuck you until you forgot your own name, forgot about that stupid boyfriend of yours, and maybe so you could forget about the fact that the guy fucking you was your own older brother.

“So fucking tight,” he muttered and dragged his teeth along the skin on your leg, lips grazing your flesh hungrily. He looked down at you as you covered your face with your hands, squirming pathetically and vulnerably beneath him. He had to fight the urge to pluck them away from your face, he wanted to see how desperate you were, but your sounds told him more than enough.

“Please,” you begged, quiet enough so that only he could hear. “Go faster.”

He wanted to listen to you, every urge in his body was telling him to do just that. But more than anything, he wanted to hear you. Touya didn’t give a fuck who heard you. He wanted you to beg for it, to tell him you’ll never go back to that scum of a boyfriend and trust him instead. So he slowed down, even if it killed him to do so. He pumped out slowly, never sliding his cock in all the way, simply teasing you with the head.

“What the fuck,” you whispered through your teeth. “ Touya,” you scolded him, as if you had any right to do so as the younger sibling.

“Show me your face,” he smirked, “Come on, I wanna see you.”

You threw your hands to your sides, glaring at him as soon as your eyes made contact with his again.

What was supposed to be intimidating, a show of your frustration, only caused your stomach to sink. That same guilt, the looming knowledge that Touya was your brother, hung over your head like a bad omen of some sort. His face was usually so familiar, but not like this, not when he was looking at you like that.

“Good girl,” he cooed, pressing a kiss into your inner thigh. And fucking finally, he started moving again, hips snapping against yours unapologetically as his pace quickened.

Your entire body shook from the impact, and clearly, your poor bed frame felt it too. You cringed at the sound of it squeaking, combined with the sound of someone still lurking around in the room next door. Touya chucked, pounding into you even harder as if making as much sound as possible was his goal this whole time.

You couldn’t stop him now. You felt like you were going to split into two when he fucked you like this. You trembled and whined each time his cock bottomed out in the same spot, clashing into your sensitive walls violently, hitting places nobody had ever reached before, especially not like this. He reached places you didn’t even know you had.

“Fucking hell, Touya,” you spoke, shaky and wet as your eyes clouded with tears. You couldn’t handle it, he was too fucking big, too fucking good at this, and he’d effectively fucked you to the point of forgetting your stupid boyfriend already.

Fuck it, Touya was all you needed, it didn’t matter, not when it felt this fucking good.

“Yeah?” He said through a grunt. “Tell me how good I am, sis.”

You knew what he wanted you to say. As if it wasn’t already obvious.

“You’re-” You whined, “ fuck , you’re better than him.”

He rolled his hips into you before leaning down, allowing you to wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck.

“Don’t stop, please don’t stop, Touya” you cried in his ear as his head fell snugly into the crook of your neck.

He smiled, you felt it against your skin. And of course, he didn’t stop this time.

He fucked you like he meant it, like he’d been waiting for this moment to come for years. It was overwhelming, the way his cock slammed into you and all but tore you apart. His body was warm, too warm against yours, and when his mouth found your neck, teeth grazing the vein and lips sucking harshly, you just about forgot who you were. You couldn’t hold on like this. You were trying to, just to savour it longer, to take in more of him, but it was an impossible feat.

“T-touya,” you stuttered, he chucked, knowing exactly what you were trying to tell him. Your cunt clenched around him perfectly, sucking him in and teasing his release out of him too. “Touya, oh my god.”

“That’s it,” he breathed as he slammed into you impossibly hard as if he was trying to force it out of you. “Fucking come for me.”

You whined his name as you came, only barely managing to stifle the sound of it in his neck. Your entire body shook as he rocked you through it, fucking you relentlessly through your high. Tears were still threatening to spill from your eyes and your legs tightened impossibly around his waist.

“Good,” Touya groaned into your ear, “so fucking good.” You could hardly hear him, not when you were this high. All you knew was him and his cock piercing you like there was no tomorrow.

You barely registered his hips stuttering, and he dragged his teeth over your skin, earning the faintest sigh from you as he bit down even harder than before.

And finally, he came, never giving you any warning before spilling deep inside of you. You whimpered as the warmth filled you, oozing through you and spilling out around his cock as he held you there in his tight embrace. You laid there as you both tried to catch your breath, bodies sweaty and hearts pounding, both of you evidently being hit with waves of what the fuck just happened.

Someone shifted in the room next door again, reminding you of where you were,but neither of you moved. Touya only pulled out of you slowly, wincing slightly at the sight of his come spilling out of you.

He hadn’t meant to, really . (Maybe a little).

But you saw the amused smirk on his face as he sat up, and you felt your body erupt into flames. Shocked at just how fucking proud of himself he was.

He ran a single finger between your folds, gathering the evidence of him that was beginning to leak out before gently pushing it back into you. You gasped when he curled his finger, body shaking pathetically at just how sensitive you were from such a small movement. He looked so fucking proud, too proud, as he studied you, listening to your tiny whimpers and cries as he teased his little sister's oversensitive cunt.

You were fucked.

Because despite everything, you loved every second of it. The wrongness of it all, the secrecy. It all made it so much better.

“Told you,” he taunted, “you’ve got the coolest fucking brother in the world, huh?”

#dabi #bnha dabi #dabi headcanons #bnha #dabi x reader #dabi x you #dabi smut #fanfiction #touya todoroki #bnha touya #dabi x y/n #mha dabi #mha

228 notes · View notes

radiant-reid · 1 year

Note

wait omg cate drop a fic where y/n finds spencer after morgan makes a small joke ab how “y/n could do better” and like spencer KNOWS morgan’s joking but he overthinks it bc he’s like “ur obviously gonna leave me when u realize u can have anyone u want :(“

i love fics where spencer’s sad and needy and insecure and y/n comforts him

-💼

"Come on, there has to be something." Morgan pushes.

You're at the point after a case where you're all relaxing on the jet on the way home, which to Morgan and Emily means it's time to uncover relationship drama that isn't actually there as they search for what annoys you about the other.

"Okay, fine." Spencer goes first, and you're unsure of what he's about to say, hoping it won't be something that breaks your heart. "There's one thing. There are always hair ties everywhere. I don't even understand how she has so many, but they'll be on the kitchen bench, in the shower, on my bedside table."

It just makes you laugh while Emily defends you and Morgan complains about how he's experienced the same issue. "Okay, now you have to tell us something, Y/n."

"Fine." You relent. There's one thing, and it's a surprising quality for a germaphobe to have. "Spencer's bad at not having clutter, like his books always end up everywhere."

Self-professed neat freak Morgan has something to say about that. "Wow, Y/n, you could do better."

You roll your eyes, kicking him under the table. "Sorry, Morgan, I'm happily taken."

Spencer doesn't look upset about it, which you check, but he slides his hand protectively onto your thigh.

You kiss him on the cheek, making your spectators squeal with disgust. "You know I don't mind your books, right?" You double-check.

He nods, softly smiling at you. "I know."

It weighs on his mind the rest of the way home, and by the time you're back at home after finishing some reports, it's all he can think about.

You know something's wrong when he flops down on the couch without taking his shoes off. "Hey." You sit by his head on the arm of the sofa, running your hand through his curls. "What's wrong?"

He shuts his eyes, pouts, and shakes his head. "Nothing."

"Uh-uh." You coo. "Tell me, baby."

He huffs before spilling. "You're going to leave me." He claims. "When you realize you can have anyone you want."

"Is this about what Morgan said?" You ask, and he nods in reply. "Spence, you can't think that that's true. I only want you. I've only wanted you since I met you."

"Really?" He asks.

"Of course." You assure him. "There's no one as intelligent, funny, kind, caring, and thoughtful as you. You're perfect."

His upset expression melts a little at that, and he smiles slightly. "I'm sorry for worrying about this."

"As long as you remember that I love you." You tell him. "More than anything."

"I love you too." He returns. You lean down in an awkward motion to kiss him upside down, but it's enough to get a smile out of him that you were longing for.

#💼#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid blurb #criminal minds

872 notes · View notes

theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction · 2 years

Text

Halloween Cookie Surprise

Characters: Reader, Venom (platonic)

Warnings: Language

Summary: Your evening was finally normal... until it wasn’t.

A/n: Happy Halloween. Stay spooky.

The task of putting away dishes was such a small simple task in comparison to the mess that was your life. You picked up a plate and used the dry towel to wipe off any excess water, staring outside the window at the lit pumpkins down the street. It made you happy that the children were ignorant to the dangers of the real world.

The plate was now dry so you turned with the intention to set it down on the kitchen island when...

Thump!

There was a loud noise from the behind and you jolted back around to see huge white slits staring at you with wide toothy grin that would give a normal person nightmares for several lifetimes.

“Fuck!” You cursed, dropping the plate until it shattered on the kitchen floor.

Venom jumped a little, his eyes widening in concern. “Oh, shit - that was my bad.” His voice boomed from outside rattling the glass.

You quickly made sure that you weren’t injured and kicked a few of the larger shards to the side with a sigh. You really liked that plate…

Looking up at the symbiote, you reached forward to prop open the window.

“Venom, where’s Eddie?” You asked, looking into his face in the hopes that your friend would show himself.

“You will be pleased to hear that Eddie and I have split. I am flying solo.” Venom replied.

It was difficult enough to deal with the prison breakout let alone the Eddie/Venom drama so it took a lot of effort not to look exasperated.

“Okay, firstly I’m glad that you’re trying to be more independent but you’re literally a-”

Don’t say ‘parasite’, you reminded yourself. “-A creature that needs to latch onto a another organism to survive. You need someone compatible and Eddie was your guy.”

Venom raised his right hand, “Y/n, this planet is home to billions. I cannot limit myself to one man who doesn’t appreciate me.” He explained earnestly and you dropped the topic altogether.

“You do you. My second question is, even if you’re not bonded to Eddie, do you know why he hasn’t been returning my calls?”

Venom went quiet and you knew something was up.

“Venom?”

“It wasn’t my fault!” The symbiote quickly deflected. “We fought and I threw his phone out the window to make a statement. And then his desk. And then his tv… okay, it was a little bit my fault.”

Shaking your head, you were both surprised and not surprised with what the organism was saying. But you could deal with that later, right now you needed to hand Eddie another case to look into. As you pondered about how to go about it, you noticed Venom silently staring from the window again.

“Okay, what is this? Why did you come to my place other than to break the ‘good’ news?”

“I like your double chocolate Halloween cookies.”

“Well, you’re out of luck the trick-or-treaters finished my last batch and-” Leaning back to view the clock hanging above the doorframe, your brows raised. “It’s ten-thirty. I’m not baking them for you at this hour.”

The symbiote stared, his mouth drooling slightly from the corner. As it turned out, Venom with no Eddie on the saddle was more unpredictable when hungry. He turned to where children were still laughing on the streets.

“Maybe I eat the trick-or-treaters...?”

Your eyes widened and you held up your hands. “Okay wait! You win. I’ll make them for you this one time but no more threatening to eat kids.”

Venom growled and then focused back on you. Reaching below, you pulled the necessary utensils from your lower cupboard and set them on the countertop, sighing about the long evening.

“Bake the cookie or become the cookie.”

Masterlist here

#theladyofmanyfandoms #theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction #gif is not mine #venom imagine #venom x reader #venom halloween #eddie brock x reader #eddie brock imagine #mcu imagine #mcu x reader #marvel imagine #marvel x reader

592 notes · View notes

my-own-walker · 1 year

Note

hi again lmao, can you please make an imagine where you have your first time with warren lipka (evan as him and female pronouns please )?? thank u sm

note: with peace and love, i know warren is a pretty darkly written/intense character with like a lot of baggage but in keeping with the theme of the reader's first time I'm gonna write him as a total sweet softie. no hate to people who write him that way, bc i eat it up every time, but yeah.

warnings: sm*t,

+++

The rain fell heavily on my windows, near gale-force winds roaring by outside. I always loved thunderstorms. I found I could only truly relax when the weather was at its most chaotic. Bad weather had always just seemed like a good excuse to do nothing.

And there was no one I enjoyed doing nothing with better than Warren. He and I were friends since childhood. Our birthdays were in the same month of the same year. Our moms met while pregnant. Joined some group of pregnant ladies that were pregnant together and due around the same time. Warren was just four days older than me. We had tons of play dates as kids.

I’ve always loved him. Even from our days in diapers. The way in which I loved him changed over the years, but sandbox love never dies. The underlying love I had for him was something born out of childhood that retained its youthful innocence. The blushing, bashful, feet-kicking, hair-twirling desire that permeates even schoolyard crushes.

Growing together and apart and then together again meant that no matter what, we could depend on one another. We went to the same pre-school, survived the perils of public school together-ish, then proceeded to go to the same college.

His mother was thoroughly convinced we’d get married someday. ‘It’s fate,’ she’d say. I wanted to be his someday. I never broached the topic with him, though. After countless ‘like a sister’ comments throughout high school, I didn’t dare suggest being something more to him. I wasn’t entirely sure I’d be his someday. And I wouldn’t dare jeopardise our friendship for the fulfillment of some ancient crush.

But as the rain fell, surrounded in my blankets, laying next to Warren, listening to music, I couldn’t help but realize the feeling was becoming too much to bear.

He was always at my campus apartment. He hated living at home. We were so totally comfortable with each other, he practically lived with me.

He lay there, unmoving, on my bed. Just inches away from me. His eyes were cast at the ceiling, staring off into whatever daydream he fancied. The rain was also his favorite. ‘Karma Police’ by Radiohead began playing over the small speakers. Warren groaned loudly.

‘God, Y/N, enough of this miserable shit! Why do you only listen to like, the world’s saddest music?’ he whined. ‘Give me your iPod.’

‘You’re such a drama queen,’ I sighed, rolling my eyes as I chucked the device in his direction. He caught it clumsily and laughed in triumph when he switched the song.

‘Sweeter Memories’ by Todd Rundgren played.

‘That’s an out-of-the-box pick,’ I smirked, raising an eyebrow at him. ‘You feeling some sappy 70s shit?’ He didn’t reply. I smacked him lightly on his stomach.

‘What?’ he exclaimed, feigning annoyance.

‘You like ignoring me?’ I laughed.

‘It’s only my favorite pastime,’ he snarked.

‘Yeah? Ignore this,’ I challenged, lurching to jab at his sides with my fingers. He jumped and sat up abruptly, turning to get me back. I squealed and scrambled to get out of bed before he could reach me, but it was no avail. He grabbed me around my waist and began to tickle my sides, rendering me utterly helpless. I succumbed to my own laughter and melted into his touch.

We ended up a collapsed heap on my bed, Warren hovering just above me as we both giggled. Sobering, he looked me in the eyes before lowering himself to kiss me. At first a soft, closed-mouth kiss, slowly morphed into something more passionate. Without warning, he pried himself from me, sitting up at the edge of the bed, turned away from me.

‘God, I’m sorry,’ he breathed. ‘That was…’

‘No, no, it’s fine,’ I interrupted.

‘No, man, I think I just took advantage of you or something. I’m sorry,’ he gushed, hands flailing defeatedly as he spoke.

‘Warren, it was okay I promise,’ I insisted.

‘I just, like sometimes, I’m just being stupid,’ he stammered. ‘I feel like I’ve just been wanting to do that.’ A hot flush came to my cheeks. Waves of heat on my face indicated just how much I had been needing to hear him say that.

‘Really? Because me too,’ I replied, almost soundlessly. He turned to face me slowly, an unreadable expression painted on his face. I froze and began chewing the nail on my thumb.

For some relevant context, I had really never even been kissed. Warren was a seasoned veteran in the world of relationships and physical touch. I, I guess subconsciously, had been waiting for Warren for years. So, in turn, it rendered me a hopeless romantic and a college-aged virgin. He was the one I wanted, so I never pursued anything with anyone else.

'Are you sure?' Warren spoke, breaking my train of thought. Instead of replying, I sat up on the bed to meet his lips and began kissing him again. He pushed me back down, positioning himself to be on top of me. ‘You okay?’

I didn’t even realize I had tensed up a bit.

‘I’m good I’m just…new to this,’ I breathed, punctuating my sentence with a small laugh.

‘Oh god, I didn’t even, I totally forgot you’ve never…’ he stammered. ‘I can take it slow.’

‘If you can’t walk, then run,’ I replied. ‘I’ve never been one to take things slow.’

His lips reconnected with mine. I reached for the hem of his shirt and tugged at it to indicate that I wanted it off. He adjusted himself to help me slide the fabric over his head. He laughed and shook his head.

‘I can’t believe we’re doing this,’ he chuckled.

‘Warren, shut up,’ I scolded.

He pulled my sweatshirt over my head, leaving me in just my bra and shorts. I felt weirdly exposed. I laid there, not entirely sure what to do with myself, where to put my hands, all of that. Warren took the liberty of taking his pants off himself, probably knowing I wouldn’t feel comfortable doing it for him.

I felt his hot breath caress my chest as he peppered kisses all over my breasts, just above my bra. Goosebumps covered my skin. I had never felt anything like this. I just wanted him in every sense of the word. I guided his hand to the waistband of my shorts. He got the hint and pulled them off swiftly, beginning to kiss my thighs and tummy.

My stomach turned. As much as I wanted this, I couldn’t help but be a little scared. Warren looked up briefly and must have seen the look on my face. He softened and returned his attention to my face. The eye contact calmed my nerves, allowing me to give him the go-ahead to take things all the way.

He slowly pulled off my underwear and lined himself up with my entrance. I kept looking into his eyes to steady myself, and before I knew it, he was inside of me. I gasped quietly at the pressure.

‘Okay?’ he grunted. I nodded in reply. He pushed further into me, taking care not to hurt me. Tears rushed to my eyes. It was such a strange feeling. Warren hit his stride. Knowing my limit, he began to thrust rhythmically. At first, I wasn’t sure if I liked it. But after a bit, I began to relax into him and feel the pleasure and warmth of the experience.

I screwed my eyes shut and moaned slightly. Two things I had no control over. Warren moaned, too, seemingly pleased with my reaction. It wasn’t long before he came.

‘My god,’ I sighed, feeling a a sense of relief that was entirely unique and new. Warren, who had crashed down onto the bed next to me, panted heavily.

‘You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that,’ he murmured.

‘What?’

‘It’s always been you,’ he continued. ‘I’ve always wanted you.’

‘Warren, there’s no way. I’ve always wanted you,’ I said, shocked.

‘I just thought, I don’t know, you saw us as just friends, or something. Nothing more,’ he elaborated.

‘That’s what I thought you felt,’ I replied.

‘Guess we just needed to talk it out,’ he smirked. He pulled me in closer to him, guiding my head to rest on his chest. Experiencing this side of him was something I’d always wanted, and I was in such disbelief that it was all happening so fast.

Listening to his breathing even out, my heart swelled at the dream I was now living.

+++

I think this sucks but I’m not sure LMAO. I just like Warren a lot and I picture him being very soft in private idk. Thank you again for the request!

#evan peters #evan peters fic #evan peters x female reader #evan peters x reader #evan peters oneshot #warren lipka #warren lipka x reader #warren lipka imagine #warren lipka smut

175 notes · View notes

youngbuckisms · 7 months

Note

Kenny Omega x Reader where they go to an arcade together?

Street Fighter ( Kenny x Reader ); drabble

Word count: 950

Warnings: none

Notes: I started to write this before the Elite drama started, so little refs of them. Also I didn’t proofread this (I never do), but enjoy!

Lately, it felt like you and Kenny couldn’t get a moment alone. You got to come to shows, but you were always surrounded by The Elite and if you weren’t surrounded by The Elite then you were watching Kenny to these shoots, which was always sort of fun. But it would be more fun to just spend time alone with your boyfriend.

Of course, Kenny knew that. And, of course, he felt bad for not having a lot of time alone to give you all of his attention. Especially when you two had been pulled into another conversation with the Bucks or Hanger — love the guys, but could you just get a minute to Kenny without them butting in?

“You’ll love it, I promise.” Kenny commented as he drove through the streets of a new city you had been brought along to, only to yet again get almost no alone time with your boyfriend.

“Love it more than hearing Matt and Nick bicker over a dumb little Starbucks debate and have you settle it?” He laughed at that, though there was a slight strain to it — embarrassment, maybe guilt, as the night getting go like he was hoping.

“Way more.” But he sounded confident enough and you just had to take his word for it.

The drive wasn’t too far, pulling up to a strip mall of a mix of different shops that didn’t look like they belonged together. A hair salon, next to a small Mexican restaurant that probably could only fit a handful of people, that was next to a record store, but in between all these shops was a slightly bigger unit with a neon red sigh buzzing with the word’s ‘Classic Arcade.’

“So, I know we haven’t had a lot of time to ourselves for the past couple weeks and at shows,” Kenny started, voice slow and unsure, an arm looping around your shoulders as he spoke and you two looked on at the building in front of you. “But I wanted us to have some time tonight and maybe play some arcade games with you, like our first date. If that’s okay, I mean —“

“Of course it’s okay, you idiot.” An affectionate jab from you, one that made him break into a wide smile as he kissed you on the cheek.

“Let’s go then. I cant wait to kick your ass.” He teased, tugging you along inside. It was dark, but it certainly looked nicer on the inside than te out.

The carpet that retro arcade pattern with random pink swirls, green triangles, and orange scribbles. The wallpaper almost matching. Then, of course, filling the area was various machines that made all sorts of noise that it was almost overwhelming.

“So, what are you going to ‘kick my ass at’ first?” You asked Kenny lead you over to a quarter machine, where he slid in a twenty for the coins to begin falling into the cup below.

“Street Fighter.” Instantly, the answer came. No hesitation and you could tell he had been planning this all night.

You knew all those quarters would be going towards Street Fighter, the game Kenny had taught you how to play on your first date, where he wouldn’t leave until you had won at least a round — the night a long one, but one neither of you would forget.

You both walked through two rows of games before spotting Street Fighter, stationed comfortably next to a Mortal Kombat machine. Two quarters were slotted in, and Kenny taking the right side of Player 2, leaving you two to officially begin your night.

Playful jabs at one another skills, some cheating on close rounds, Kenny often nudging you with his hip to throw you off, you throwing a few of your own gentle shoulder tosses his direction to distract him. A night of constant back and forth, laughter mixing with the sounds of the arcade beeps.

From how close you both were, you could feel the vibration of Kenny’s phone, yet it went completely ignored. Right now, the night about the two of you and spending time together. Another call came after that, but once it was ignored, it was silent for the remainder of the night. He would call later, worry about it at the hotel.

For now, he would happily continue laughing with you as you both played, smashing buttons and Kenny acting a little too dramatic when he lost — though you’re sure he threw a few games on purpose.

“Dammit!” Kenny huffed as the final blow was landed, taking his hands off the joystick to find another couple quarters in his pocket to go again. “You know, if I knew you were going to kick my ass, I wouldn’t have suggested Street Fighter.”

“I had a good teacher.” He smiled at that, flashing you this grin as curly hair fell in front of his face, for you to push aside for him. You can see him practically melt from the touch, always a sucker for physical affection. He was quick to shut the distance between you, placing a kiss to your lips as a hand came to rest on your hip.

“Closing up soon!” The lone worker that the two of you had forgotten about called from behind the ticket counter, causing you both to jump slightly. You could see Kenny’s cheeks turning pink, even in the dim lighting of the arcade.

“How about we say you won tonight, but tomorrow night, I’m really going to kick your ass.” Kenny suggested with a wide grin.

“I might embarrass you again.”

“You? Embarrass me? You make me laugh, baby. Let’s get out of here then.”

#Kenny omega #kenny omega drabble #kenny omega imagine #aew drabble #aew imagine #kenny omega x reader #gender neutral reader

74 notes · View notes

13uswntimagines · 2 years

Text

Fans or Foe (Rose X Singer!R)

Request: Part 2 to Hesitate where r meets the team.

Author's Note: Hey guys, I'm sorry that it's been grad school has been kicking my ass. I hope you guys enjoy this.

There was a reason that you were so cautious with how much you shared with the fans and the media. Every move you made was meticulous, calculated to give them the glimpse into your life that they desired, but not enough for them to actually know anything.

Still, they took whatever crumbs you left them, thinking that they had the whole story and running with it.

It was why you had been so careful with the way you came out to the fans, and why you had guarded your relationship with Rose as tightly as you had.

You weren’t ashamed. Not at all, and Rose knew that.

But you had been worried about how the fans would treat her. Sure, she was famous in her own right, but your fans could be intense. You were afraid of them coming after her with hate.

She didn’t deserve to be bombarded by people who had never met her before.

That’s why it had taken you so long to devise a plan to reveal your relationship.

But even with your planning and your prepping, nothing could have prepared Rose for the flood that followed the release of your music video.

It was instant, and overwhelming in a way that she had never experienced for herself before.

The wave of media and fans was one that she had seen you handle time and time again with practiced ease. She watched as you ran invasive reporters around in circles when they asked rude questions and as you smiled gently at sobbing fans, giving out as many photos and autographs as you could.

Of course, you got overwhelmed.

She had seen the bad days when you couldn’t even pick up coffee without getting mobbed. Where you saw flashes of cameras through every open window. Where you wondered if getting to do the thing you loved was worth the harassment.

She had witnessed meetings with your publicist, managers, and team (your war council as rose liked to call it) where you strategized how to combat bad rumors and tour drama, or to deal with being linked to every person you so much as looked at (except her funnily enough).

But you handled it all with a nerdy grace that Rose wasn’t sure she was capable of.

She could turn off her Twitter and Instagram notifications. She could avoid the windows and have her teammates shield her from the paparazzi that had set up outside the hotel. She could handle the USWNT media team’s never-ending begging for a segment with her.

What she couldn’t handle was the nosiness of her own team.

They were driving her crazy, and she wondered again how you could deal with it all without losing your smile because she was going to murder her teammates.

“You guys have seriously got to stop,” Rose groaned, running an irritated hand through her hair and dropping her fork, suddenly losing her appetite. “You're giving me a headache,”

“Come on Rosie, you’re marrying The Y/n Y/l/N,” Emily whined, tossing a grape at the midfielder.

“No. I’m marrying Y/n,” Rose said slowly, hoping that they would be able to catch the distinction. She wasn’t marrying the character that you and your team had created. She was marrying the person behind the character, the woman she had known since your junior year of college. “A person none of you cared about until you found out her last name,”

A small grumble of agreement rumbled around the group, acknowledging the point Rose had made just after the video. If they had asked the right questions then they wouldn’t have been so blindsided. It wasn’t like she hid her relationship from them.

They actually knew quite a bit about you. They knew you liked music, and that you memorized poems and movie quotes for fun. They knew you were a writer (just not a songwriter) and that you were obsessed with rocky road ice cream. They knew more substance about you than most of your own fans did, they just didn’t know they knew.

“I’m just surprised you listened to us thirst after her as much as you did,” Kelley muttered, taking a bite of her sandwich as Lindsey nodded along with her.

“I’m not sure I would have been able to reign in my jealousy if I was in your position,”

Rose shrugged. “You weren’t saying anything that wasn’t true. At least you guys were respectful. More respectful than some of her fans,”

It was the truth. She had learned how to share part of you with the public. That was why she treasured the parts of yourself you didn’t reveal so much. There were parts of you that only she saw. It was a reminder that it was her you called after a show, your voice froggy, and her bed you ended up in as much as you could.

Listening to her teammates hadn’t bothered her. It had been incredibly entertaining, actually. At least they didn’t talk about you like you were a piece of meat.

“I deal with millions of people telling her how gorgeous she is every day. She deals with the same,” Rose continued, squinting to try and get the wording right. “You learn to get over it because I know things that everyone else doesn’t,”

She knew about the smile you saved only for her. She knew about the curl that always popped out behind your ear by the end of the day. She knew all the little things that no one else ever would.

“Her fans are kind of over the top,” Sam agreed, decidedly ignoring the fact that their own fans also thirsted after them.

“Like scary over the top,” Mal snorted, flipping her phone and showing a Twitter update on where the fans thought your private jet was. A dangerous game if Rose did say so herself. “Right now they’re trying to track her private jet. They're convinced she's flying into DC right now,”

It was scary how invasive your fans got, and how convinced they were that the crumbs you left for them were the entire picture.

Your security team had gotten larger as your fanbase had for a reason. Crazy people trying to track the private jet you didn’t own was definitely one of those reasons.

Rose snorted at the page and all its inaccuracies.

“She’s not,” She said, shaking her head. “She won't be here until very late tonight probably,”

The table seemed to pause, Emily’s jaw dropping.

“How do you-?”

“They’re engaged dipshit,” Lindsey cackled, throwing her roll and whacking Emily in the face.

The defender grabbed the roll, taking a bite as she pouted at her girlfriend.

“She has an interview with Falon to promote the album, and then she’s going to see Wicked for like the 50th time,” Rose rolled her eyes. “She’ll Fly here after that,”

She said it casually, like knowing your entire schedule wasn’t a novel thing for the team.

“She’s actually coming?” Emily asked, practically bouncing in her seat, earning another eye roll from Rose.

“Yeah, she wanted to see the game,” Rose shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal, because to her it wasn’t anything new. “Apparently, watching soccer is relaxing for her,”

She wouldn’t tell them your actual quote, that watching her ass was the reason you enjoyed it so much.

Emily’s blue eyes widened, and her bouncing increased so much that Rose was afraid she was going to tip her chair over. “What room are you in?”

“No,”

Rose’s response was immediate, sharp, and left no room for argument. She knew her friends too well to divulge that kind of information. They could be worse than your own fans at times, and she knew you were going to be exhausted when you got in. You didn’t need any more harassment, not with the way fans were already tracking your every movement.

“What?” Emily asked incredulously, trying too hard to seem innocent.“It’s just for my curiosity,”

Rose’s eyes narrowed at the statement, as it confirmed her suspicion.

“You’re not camping outside of my door and waiting for her to get here,” Rose said, leaving no room for argument. “Don’t think about staking out the lobby either, she’s not coming in through the front, and it’ll be hella late anyway. You’ll get to see her in the morning,”

“Why is she flying in so late?” Kelley asked, ignoring Emily’s pout. “Why not wait until tomorrow morning or something?”

Rose shrugged, unable to stop the small blush that colored her cheeks. “It’s easier,”

She wasn’t going to tell them that you had trouble sleeping without her. That you just couldn’t wait the extra 12 hours to see her. That she didn’t want to wait to see you either.

“Yeah, right,” Lindsey snorted.

“It probably is,” Mal said, her eyebrows furrowed. “The airport is probably less crowded, and there's probably fewer paparazzi to track her every movement,”

Rose nodded. “There are also fewer fans,”

The table seemed to pause as it took in the information, and Rose could practically see the wheels turning in their heads.

“I thought she liked meeting the fans?” Emily frowned, sounding deeply wounded. It was one of the things your fans loved most about you, your commitment to them.

Rose sighed. It was another difficult concept to explain.

You loved your fans. You loved giving them special moments, like when you always pulled someone up on the stage for your piano set, or the hundreds of free meet and greets you did, but there was an invisible line that separated your working self from your actual self. The line between Y/n and The Y/n Y/l/n. It was dangerous when your fans chose to cross that line.

“She does,” Rose hedged, biting her lip, trying to think of how to explain to them that meeting a giant crowd of people wherever you went was not only overwhelming but a threat to your safety. “It just makes things more complicated when a thousand people are waiting for her wherever she goes,”

“I think that’s understandable,” Sam agreed easily, and the table nodded along with her. “She did get mobbed in time square when she went to pick up her album last night,”

Rose winced at the fact, silently grateful for the distance between you for once. You had told her that it would have been even worse if she was actually with you. She hadn’t been able to stop herself from scrolling through the thousands of Tik Toks and Snap Stories of the incident, or the way her heart beat a little faster at the nervous smile you had sent to everyone you passed that night.

They had all deemed that it was a grateful look. That you were happy they had shown up. They couldn’t see the anxiety that was clear to her.

“And that’s exactly what we want to avoid,”

“So we don’t get any details?” Emily asked again, her pout deepening when Rose shook her head.

“I’ll introduce you tomorrow, and you can harass her before we leave for the game and after we get back,” Rose said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Before that, she’s off limits,”

“We’ll respect tonight,” Kelley hummed soothingly, sending a look to her fellow chaos defender. “But I make no promises for tomorrow,”

Rose blew out a breath. “All I ask for is tonight,”

*******

You were no stranger to sneaking in and out of hotel rooms. You practically lived in hotel rooms 200 days out of the year, avoiding hotel staff and fans for some semblance of privacy. You spent another 50 following your girlfriend around the world.

You knew how to get in and out without people knowing, and your staff was well-trained in doing the same.

But you appearing at Rose’s door when her teammates were still texting the group chat convinced your airplane hadn’t left JFK yet, was something that would never get old.

“Hey,” You smiled softly at the woman, leaning on the doorframe.

Her nose scrunched at your voice, froggy from too many performances. “Hey you, wanna come in?”

You hummed, stepping forward and pulling the midfielder into your arms. She melted into you, wrapping her arms around your neck as you buried your face in her hair.

You held her tightly, rocking side to side as the door slammed uncaringly behind you. “I missed you,”

It was a soft admission, vulnerable in a way that most people would never get to see. It was an admission that she didn’t need you to verbalize for her to know. She could feel it in the way that you held her, in a way that seeped from your bones into her.

“I missed you too,” She breathed into your shoulder, holding you just as tightly. She had missed you just as much.

Despite your ability to write music, she had learned long ago that you were actually rather terrible at putting your emotions into words, but that didn't mean that you didn’t express yourself.

You just preferred to use bad quotes and physical contact to convey how you felt, and She let you.

The hug went on for a long few moments, before you pulled away, your eyes tracing over her features. “No, I missed you,”

She smiled softly up at you, leaning in and connecting your lips. She knew what you meant, that you struggled to show how much you cared for her when there was so much distance between you. You hadn’t just missed being near her, you missed the comfort and stability she brought you. You missed being able to hold her and make her feel as safe as she made you feel.

The kiss was soft and slow, your tongues gently dancing together in a familiar waltz, your hand tighten around her hips, and her fingers tangled in the baby hairs at the back of your neck, pulling you closer.

“I know,” Rose smirked, against your lips. “Are we going to make out in the entranceway all night?”

You shook your head once. “That wouldn’t be very economical of us, not when the part we’re paying for is the bed,”

“Then why don’t we put it to good use?” She wiggled her eyebrows at you, earning a slightly pained smile.

She frowned, trailing her hands across your neck to cup your cheeks. “Hey, we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,”

You leaned heavily into the touch

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” You started softly, biting your lip as the words seemed to get caught in your mouth. You didn’t think there would ever be a time when you didn’t want her. “I’m just-...”

Rose knew how difficult vocalizing your emotions could be for you. How you always struggled to express what you were feeling, but you didn’t have to say it for her to know. She could see the droop in your eyelids, the dark circles that accented your face.

She ran her thumb over the marks, and you sighed.

“Completely exhausted,” She murmured, and all you could do was nod.

You weren’t opposed to sex, but you knew that you would never be able to finish (or guide her to a finish) if you started. You wanted to be present when you were intimate with her, and with how worn out you were, you knew it wouldn’t be that kind of experience.

“When was the last time you slept?” She pressed, already guiding you to sit on the edge of the bed. She stepped between your legs, running her hands through your hair as your eyebrows furrowed. Your plan had been to sleep on the way to Colorado so you could be more awake for her when you got there, but you had been so totally consumed by a song idea that you hadn’t been able to sleep. You hadn’t planned on staying awake for the entire 4-hour flight, but once you started, you couldn’t stop.

“I was working on a project on the airplane and I got distracted,” You mumbled in answer, leaning forward and resting your forehead on her chest, breathing her in. You ran your thumb along the small sliver of skin between her shirt and her pants, tapping out random patterns. “I just want to feel you,”

She hummed, scratching your scalp more deeply. She understood what you meant, you wanted the intimacy that you only got with her, and she was happy to give it to you.

“Come on,”

She used the hand in your hair to pull your head back, and placed a very soft kiss on your lips. “Let's get more comfortable and then we can cuddle,”

Her fingers hooked the bottom of your sweatshirt as you pulled away, maneuvering it over your head and pulling your shirt off with it.

You let out a low sound in the back of your throat, reaching for her shirt and tugging the hem. “Can this come off too?”

Rose sent you a small smirk, running her hands through your hair again. “That was the plan babe,”

You made another low sound, tugging again at her shirt. She rolled her eyes at you, pulling the material over her head and chuckling at the way your eyes roamed over the creamy skin of her chest and down her abs (she wasn’t wearing a bra).

The way you looked at her never failed to send a shiver down her spine. It made her feel wanted and powerful. She knew that you didn’t look at anyone else like you looked at her. You didn’t look at anyone else with so much love and devotion and want, despite how many people looked at you that way.

She made more of a show pulling down her sleep shorts, turning away from you to toss them into her bag, and wiggling her ass for you just a bit before turning back towards you and kneeling between your legs.

“Now, let's get you out of your pants too,”

You groaned, falling back onto the bed as her warm hands landed on your stomach, just above the button of your jeans. “I want you so bad, but I’m so fucking tired,”

She chuckled, shaking her head and undoing your pants. “I know. We’re just going to cuddle. You like naked cuddles the best,”

You nodded, lifting your hips so she could pull your pants off. “They’re the best,”

“Move to the middle of the bed so we can cuddle then,” She hummed, grabbing your pants and underwear and tossing them next to her own abandoned clothing next to her bag.

“So bossy,” You grumbled, following her instruction nonetheless, and tucking yourself under the blankets.

She huffed, settling under the blanket next to you, drawing you in so your head rested on her chest. “You love it,”

“I do,” You murmured, kissing the skin in between her breasts. “I love you so much it hurts, and I’m so happy to see you,”

“I love you too,” She hummed back, kissing the crown of your head, and rubbing your back. “Now sleep. You’re too sappy when you’re sleep deprived,”

You hummed back, your eyes sliding closed. There would be time to be sappy in the morning when you were more awake.

******

Early morning light flickered through the window, casting soft shadows over the alabaster skin of Rose’s back.

It would never fail to be one of your favorite sights, her hair spilled across the pillows wild and untamed, the blanket pulled down just below her shoulders, and her hand reaching out and resting on your stomach, where she had drawn circles for most of the night. It was so domestic, foreign, and familiar all the same (That’s what you got with only 60 days a year with neither of you on the road).

You had never really been a morning person, always preferring the twinkling lights of stars and buildings over the budding sunrise, but Rose was slowly changing that. Seeing her in the lantern-like oranges and yellows of dawn was something to behold. It was better than any painting or work of art you had ever seen.

What you wouldn’t give to wake up to her every day.

You shook your head, reaching for your bag, but never leaving the bed, and pulling out a very famous little black notebook.

It always made you chuckle how people freaked out about your songbook or assumed that you only wrote songs on one platform.

It was a ridiculous notion that your entire musical career was held in a singular bound notebook, but you never felt the need to correct the fans. You always did prefer little black books to write out your song thoughts, and it made you laugh when they went crazy when they saw it.

You hummed lightly to yourself, opening the book and flipping to the page you had already started on.

Your eyes scanned the partial lyrics on the page, looking at the little notes you had made about chords and patterns, using your pen to make a few edits and additions. You had the tune in your head, but figuring out how it fit with the story you wanted to tell was always a fun challenge for you. One that sucked you in.

You weren’t sure how long you sat, Rose’s hand on your abs as you worked through your song before you noticed her fingers moving in slow circles. They trailed up your stomach, to your book, and pulled it down, drawing your attention to her.

You complied, tossing your book towards the bedside table, before drawing her up in your arms, enjoying the way your skin felt pressed together.

“How long have you been up?” She asked, her voice groggy, and you squinted glancing at the clock.

The truth was that you weren’t quite sure. You hadn’t looked at the clock, but the sun had been just barely peeking through the window, and now it was streaming in a constant ray.

“Not too long I don’t think,” You shrugged, running your free hand through your hair, squinting.“I had an idea and I didn’t want to lose it,”

You felt more than you saw her roll her eyes. “You always have an idea you don’t want to lose,”

“Guilty as charged,” You chuckled, kissing her head. “It’s just easier for me to think when i don’t have so much music tangled in my head,”

You knew that she wasn’t a fan of your sleep schedule, but it wasn’t really something you could help. You and sleep had never been good friends, though it had gotten much better when you moved in with Rose, it was still never something that would be considered normal.

She let out a long breath, rolling over so she was facing you, kissing your lips. “I know, I just worry about you,”

Your arm tightened around her waist and tilted your head to capture her lips again.

Rose had seen you at your worst. She had seen you work yourself to the edge of insanity. She had seen you push yourself to please your record label and neglect your own needs. She had seen how self-destructive you could be (the break between your second album and your third had been rough). She would never not worry about you pushing yourself too far.

“I know,” You murmured, pulling away from the kiss. “But I’m doing ok. I’ve got a better team, and a good balance,”

She hummed, her lips finding your neck and leaving little kisses there.

“Speaking of teams,” She muttered, trailing lower toward your collarbone.

“I have to meet yours don’t I?”

“Yeah,” She sighed, looking up at you and resting her chin just above your heart. “They're going to be invasive and annoying,”

“They gonna give me a shovel talk?” You asked, chuckling just a bit. “Even though I’ve known you for longer than any of them?”

Rose chuckled too, pushing herself to a sitting position and essentially straddling your waist (and you tried very hard to maintain eye contact and not be a pervert and ogle her breasts). “I think Emily is going to be more interested in grilling you about all of your music,”

You scrunched your nose. “She knows I’m not going to tell her any details about who i sing about right?”

Rose smirked. “I think she’s convinced she’s going to get the whole story now that she knows The Y/n Y/l/n,”

“I think the only person other person who knows the whole story is you,” You grumbled with a roll of your eyes. “I don’t know why they’re so obsessed. Why can’t they just enjoy the music,”

It was Rose’s turn to roll her eyes. “Because then you wouldn’t have so much fun leaving breadcrumbs for them to piece together,”

You shrugged. “I leave them breadcrumbs and they were still blindsided by us announcing our engagement,”

“It’s because your puzzles never have only one answer,” Rose said, slapping your shoulder and pushing herself out of bed. “You design them so they can come to multiple conclusions, so I hardly think that's fair,”

Your eyes followed her as she bent over, grabbing a towel tossing a shirt towards her bag, your shirt from last night, and heading towards the bathroom to shower. You also knew she was taking every opportunity to tease you.

It was kind of her MO.

“And what you do to me is fair?” You asked, earning a smirk. “We both have the games we like to play,”

“At least you actually get satisfaction in the end,” Rose said, raising an eyebrow at you.

You couldn’t help but nod in agreement, following after her toward the bathroom.

“I give them so much of myself already,” You said softly, as she turned the water on. “The last things I have are the stories behind the songs. I want to keep it sacred,”

Rose’s entire body paused, and she very slowly turned towards you, kneeling down in front of where you had sat down on the toilet.

“First of all,” She started gently. “Your music is not the only thing you have. You have me, and you’re never going to lose me,”

She kissed your lips before she continued. “Second, you don’t have to give up anything you don’t want to, and I won't let any of my friends force you to, not that they would,”

You nodded again. “I know you won’t Rosie,”

“Now let's shower, and then we’ll meet my crazy teammates,”

******

Your entire life was based around the public’s opinion of you. It was why you were so good at handling people. At painting a charming smile on your face and playing the charismatic singer.

And from the moment you stepped out of the hotel room, Rose knew that she was in the presence of the character you so often played instead of her significant other.

It was what you knew the team wanted and expected.

But it wasn’t what she wanted.

She wanted her friends to meet the women she fell in love with. She wanted them to meet the real you.

Her hand tightened around your arm, pulling you to a stop before you could hit the elevator button, and she immediately had all of your attention.

“Don’t do that,” She said seriously, stepping into your personal bubble, her nose nearly touching your chin.

You frowned, tilting your head at her. “Do what? Press the elevator? Would you rather take the stairs?”

She shook her head, pressing impossibly closer to you. “I want them to meet my fiance, not Y/n Y/l/n Singer, songwriter, superstar extraordinaire,”

“But your fiance is Y/n Y/l/n - Singer, songwriter, terrible chief extraordinaire,” You smirked.

She chuckled at how you changed her line, but didn’t move away from you. “Don’t pretend like you don’t know what I mean,”

You blew out a long breath. It was easier to meet people as your alter ego. People had expectations of her and it was fairly easy to meet them. What was more difficult was actually being yourself.

Your fans only got glimpses of the person you were underneath the persona, mostly through your songs and acoustic sets. Letting people closer required vulnerability and you didn’t share that often. The only person you felt comfortable seeing it was Rose.

Your expression softened, and you brought your hands up to very gently hold her waist. “I just know what they’re expecting,” You confessed softly. “I don’t want to embarrass you,”

“Baby,” She cooed with more gentleness than she usually used with you, her hands sliding up your arms to cup your jaw. “Why would you being yourself embarrass me,”

You opened and closed your mouth several times, trying to find the words.

The Y/n Y/l/n was cool. She was suave and dapper and knew how to make the fans feel seen and heard even when she had never met them. She knew how to be charismatic and charming. She wasn’t… you.

You were a dork, obsessed with music theory and chord progressions that made absolutely no sense. You were shy and introverted.

You were not what the team was expecting.

You closed your eyes under the weight of her stare, leaning forward so your foreheads touched.

It was so easy for you to get stuck in your head when you had to be your actual self around anyone who wasn’t Rose.

Her team thought she had gotten a catch, but in reality, it was her who was so far out of your league.

You weren’t quite sure how you of all people had become an international pop sensation. You were just an abandoned kid from Kansas who sang about your pain.

“I’m not…cool,” You mumbled, your fingers tightening around her waist. “Really, I’m a loser who got famous for putting together songs about a fucked up situation,”

You felt her suck in a deep breath, and the finger on your cheek tapped twice. Your eyes opened to meet her blue.

“We’re all pretty bizarre. Some of us are just better at hiding it, that’s all.”

You cracked a smile at the familiar line, shoving her away just a bit. “You know I hate the breakfast club,”

“Yes,” She hummed, grabbing your belt loops and pulling you back in. “But you gotta admit, it has some good quotes,”

“Dont forget about me was the only good part of that movie,” You scoffed, shaking your head. “If it wasn’t considered a cult classic, no one would care about it. At least other cult classics have better tunes,”

“Like Rocky Horror?” She raised an eyebrow at you.

You shrugged a rye smile etching its way across your features, a sharp contrast to the mask of The y/n y/l/n. “Time warp will never not be good, and really I was talking about Batman and Robin,”

Rose chuckled at the mention of your favorite campy movie, leaning up to kiss your lips. They weren’t as sophisticated as Christopher Nolan’s Batman, but they were a staple in your childhood. “I didn’t think poison ivy sang in that,”

“She doesn’t,” You agreed, as she pulled back and pressed the elevator call button. “Mr. Freeze does,”

She rolled her eyes at your explanation, tugging your hand as the doors popped open. “They stole that from A Year Without a Santa Claus,”

“I liked that one too,” You shrugged, unbothered.

The banter with her made it easy for your shoulders to relax. Made it easy for you to feel like yourself, and you knew that didn’t go unnoticed by Rose.

You just hoped her friends liked the real you.

*****

You knew that meeting Rose’s team was going to be absolute chaos.

You had heard enough stories to know exactly how crazy they could be, and you expected the normal questions you were peppered with anytime you met new people. You knew that many of the women on the team were fans, but you hadn’t realized how big of fans they were.

You hadn’t expected to be swarmed as soon as the elevator door binged open, and it took everything in you not to paint your million-dollar smile on your face.

“You have to tell us who all the songs are about now that we know you,”

“What’s it like to sing on a stage in front of thousands?”

“How do you pick the person you serenade during the love song set?”

“Did you date Taylor?”

Their voices blended together in a symphony that would rival even the loudest crowds you performed to, and the sudden attention made the hairs on the back of your neck prickle.

Contrary to popular belief, you didn’t like attention unless you were on stage.

“Jesus guys, it’s not even 10 yet,” Rose said, holding up a hand to silence her friends. “Calm your tits,”

Kelley smirked. “You just asked for peace until this morning. That’s all we promised,”

“You talked about me?” You asked, your eyebrows furrowing.

Rose rolled her eyes, “These looney toons wanted to ambush you outside my door last night,”

You hummed, noting how her fingers tightened around yours. It told you how much she had stopped her friends as much for her own sake as she had done it for yours.

You couldn’t help the way your famous smirk danced across your features. “That would tie for one of the craziest things a fan has done to meet me,”

Rose squeezed your hand again. A reminder that she wanted them to meet you, and not who you pretended to be, but it was too late.

It was so easy to slip into character, and give her friends exactly what you knew they expected.

“Oh!” Emily’s eyes lit up, and she launched herself at you, pulling you away from rose and dragging you towards the meal room. “Tell me more,”

“Yeah y/n what’s your crazy fan story?” Kelley chimed in, smirking towards Rose as they trailed after you.

You glanced behind you, catching Rose’s frown just before she slid her own mask into place.

It made your chest ache, but the show must go on.

You wiggled your eyebrows at her teammates. “Well…-“

********

“So I’ve gotta ask,” Emily said, leaning forward as you finished your chicken and whipped your mouth. “Are all of them about her?”

Your eyebrows furrowed at the question. “Are all of what about who?”

Rose snorted from across from you. She had been pouting since the youngins and Emily called dibs on the seats next to you.

“The songs,” Emily clarified a slight whine to her voice. “Are they all about Rose?”

“They can’t be,” Lindsey groaned, leaning back in her chair. “There’s an entire set about breakups,”

You shrugged, smirking as you started in on your rice.

“She’s not going to tell you,” Rose sighed, shaking her head with a slight smile. At least she wasn’t angry with you, even though you hadn’t been able to keep your promise to her.

“But why?” Sanchez whined.

“It would ruin the fun,” Your smirk widened. “Plus, who I think the songs are about isn’t important,”

The youngins around you gasped like you had spoken the most blasphemous thing they had ever heard.

“You can’t be serious,” Emily grumbled. “You’re entire fandom hinges on the theories,”

Rose snorted again, stabbing her lunch.“She’s deadly serious,”

“I am,” You agreed, meeting Rose’s eyes. “When I put music out, it’s no longer my own. It belongs to the fans. It’s theirs to create theories about or to apply to their own situation. When I sing it at concerts, I don’t sing it to the person I wrote it for. I sing it for the fans, and they sing it about their situations. It’s kinda like inception, a meaning within a meaning,”

The table went quiet at your explanation.

“That was deeper than I thought it'd be,” Kelley mumbled.

You shrugged, just as your phone started ringing in your pocket.

You glanced down at the device, your eyebrows furrowing. “I’ve gotta take this,”

You pushed yourself up from the table, waving Rose away as you stepped out to answer, not noticing the little black book you had left in your chair.

But Emily noticed it.

She reached for it, holding it up. “Is this what I think it is?”

“You guys are too much,” Rose rolled her eyes. “Let me have it before she freaks out,”

“So this is what I think it is then?” Emily asked, raising an eyebrow at Rose. “The sacred book that all our theories are based upon,”

“It’s just a songbook,” Rose grumbled, holding her hand out for the book. “Not the fucking bible. Give it to me,”

“It’s the Y/fan base/n bible,” Ashley added unhelpfully. “You should see what she’s working on,”

“That’s a massive invasion of privacy,” Rose huffed, reaching to pull the book out of Sonnett’s hand.

“But you wanted us to get to know her,” Emily said, raising her eyebrow.

“And if we just… happened to drop it, and looked at the page as we opened it… it wouldn’t be an invasion,” Ashley shrugged.

“No,” Rose growled, glaring at the blondes.

“Yes,” Emily smirked back, holding the book up and casually dropping it, so it landed on the page you were working on, before leaning over and scooping it up.

The youngins clambered around her to get a good look at your loopy writing, squinting at the page, and Rose sat back in defeat.

You barely let her read your book as it was.

“What are the symbols above the words?” Lindsey asked, glancing up at Rose from the page.

“Those are the notes,” Rose said, her eyes narrowing. “Sometimes she’ll include dots to indicate the rhythm. It’s mostly shorthand,”

Emily hummed, flipping it around for Rose to see. “Looks like a love song to me. She even said your sleepy smile is her favorite sight in the margin,”

Rose leaned forward, eyebrows furrowing as she tried to make out your scratchy handwriting.

Her eyes followed Emily’s finger, making out the sketch of a Rose, and the line right next to the lyrics you were working through.

“She didn’t say it was me,” Rose huffed, sitting back. “She just likes to doodle sometimes,”

“The line she wrote next to it is - Doesn't matter if the world falls apart Or whatever comes tomorrow I will always keep you in my heart-. It’s about you,” Emily said, rolling her eyes and pulling the book back. “But I wonder what the little ladder she drew means,”

“It’s the bridge,” You said, plucking your book out of her hand and pulling it to your chest. “It’s impolite to read things that don’t belong to you, or to show those things to other people,”

“Oh, it fell,” Sanchez tried to argue, but you held up a finger, silencing them.

“It didn’t fall into your finger,” You muttered. “She wasn’t supposed to see that yet,”

You could feel your mask cracking. Your frustration at them showing her the song you were working on overwhelmed the easy-going character you normally played.

You had been working on the song for months, to surprise Rose, maybe for your wedding.

You cleared your throat, ignoring the concerned look your fiancé was sending your way. “I need to go meet with my manager. There’s a problem. I just came back to tell you I’d see you after practice,”

You didn’t wait for a response before you turned on your heel and left the room again.

“Nice going guys,” Rose muttered, grabbing both of your plates and chasing after you.

This was not how she expected your first meeting with the team to go.

*****

You hadn’t been lying when you said you had a meeting with your manager and your publicist. There was an apparent crisis that you had to deal with. It was annoying, but you weren’t sure if you were more irritated by some front desk person posting a picture of you in the USWNT hotel, or from Rose’s team showing her your book.

Only you got to show her stuff in your book.

“I literally don’t care,” You muttered to your publicist, sipping your coffee. “I’m wearing her jersey to the game tomorrow, so there’s no need to be subtle,”

“You don’t need to be snippy,” Kara (your publicist) said gently, pulling the cup from your hand.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “Sorry, I’m just frustrated,”

“I thought Rosie would have worked all the frustration out of you,” Lena (your manager) chuckled. “You’re usually a ray of sunshine after spending the night with her,”

You shrugged, blowing out another breath. “I was in a good mood and then I met her team,”

“They read you the riot act?” Lena raised her eyebrow at you.

“No,” You muttered, furrowing your eyebrows. “They read my songbook and showed it to Rose while I was in the phone with you,”

You ran a frustrated hand through your hair, shifting uncomfortably under the gaze of the two women who had been with you since the beginning. “They showed her the page with the song I was gonna sing during our first dance,”

Lena and Kara shared a long look. They knew how protective you were over your music before it had been perfected. They knew how rare it was for you to show anyone, barring Rose herself.

“What did Rose say?”

Your shoulders lifted and fell as you picked your cuticle with your nail. “I didn’t give her time to catch up for a conversation,”

You had perfected the art of disappearing as much as you had appearing. You had slipped out by the time she had made it to the lobby, and you hadn’t answered her text messages since.

Lena and Kara both sighed, and your green-eyed manager reached out and caught your hand. “I thought the two of you agreed, no more running,”

“I know,” You ground out, pulling away and meeting Lena’s green eyes.

It had been one of the most important promises in your relationship. It was hard for you to talk when you were upset, and your childhood had taught you it was better to run than face the consequences. That you couldn’t be hurt if you didn’t talk.

But you wanted it to be different with Rose. It was different with her.

“It’s not her fault they read it,” You muttered. “I heard her tell them to stop,”

“So why not talk to her?” Kara pressed.

You chewed your bottom lip.“Because she read what isn’t done yet. It’s too raw,”

“Too vulnerable,” Kara supplied easily.

You shook your head. You didn’t mind being vulnerable with Rose, she was going to be your wife. You minded that all of her friends had been watching. You worried that one of those pages would wind up on some tumblr somewhere and she would be exposed. That your private thoughts would be stolen from you.

You already struggled enough with not feeling like a person with how much people felt comfortable taking your privacy away.

“Rose wanted them to meet the real me, and I couldn’t give her that,” You said slowly. “And now they’ve ruined my surprise for her,”

“Kid,” Lena sighed. “You know Rose doesn’t care about any of that. She loves you,”

“But I care,” You muttered. It was a hard thing for you to put into words. That you felt so … violated by something so seemingly innocuous. “I care that I didn’t get to show her my song in my own time. It’d be like… Davinci being forced to put his last supper on display before he was ready,”

Kara hummed. “Then why don’t you show her in your own way,”

You frowned, not understanding.

“The hotel has a piano,” Kara explained gently. “Why don’t you show her the song the way you had planned? The one in your notebook might not be finished, but the one in your head is,”

You nodded, running a hand through your hair. “I wanted to play to clear my head anyway,”

“Then I’ll get you set up,” Lena nodded. “We’ll take care of it,”

*****

Your fingers gently danced across the white keys, caressing them like they were a long-lost love, an old friend that welcomed you with familiar comfort. With nearly as much reverence as you touched rose with.

You had once heard Michael Phelps talk about how the pool drowned out his thoughts. The piano was that for you. The world around you went silent, and you could be at peace, even surrounded by a hundred thousand of your closest friends.

You sighed, humming along as your fingers pressed out the bridge again.

It was the one part that had been bothering you. The one part that wasn’t quite right. You squinted, running the same line again, switching out one of the notes, and shaking your head.

It still wasn’t right. You grit your teeth, slamming both hands on the keys.

You went to do it again, but her voice stopped you.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Rose asked you, landing a hand on your shoulder, and you gently lowered your fingers to the keys.

You blinked up at her, painting your famous smirk across your lips. “Sure you won’t sell them for a dollar?”

Her lips ticked up at your joke as she settled onto the bench beside you. “Becky had a long talk with Emily and Sanchez, expect an apology tomorrow,”

Your shoulders lifted and dropped, and your fingers returned to their starting position.

You didn’t need team dynamics to get involved in something that wasn’t a team problem.

You could feel Rose’s eyes on you, trying to read what was going through your mind.

“I’m not upset that they read my book,” You muttered, your fingers catching on the keys as you played through the bridge again, “they’re fans. I should have expected that,”

“No,” Rose growled, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look at her. “Them being fans does not give them the right to invade your privacy. You being famous doesn’t negate your right to your thoughts,”

You pulled away, shaking your head. It was a familiar argument, one the two of you had had many times over.

Rose knew how you struggled to separate the parts of yourself.

“They don’t see me as a person,” You mumbled, closing your eyes as your fingers danced across the keys again, stumbling over the bridge. “To them, I’m just a character on a stage. My book is a part of that. It’s part of their lore. I’m not upset they looked,”

Rose paused, her eyes searching you. “You’re upset I looked?”

Again your shoulders lifted as you played through the section again. “They ruined my surprise,”

Your voice came out soft, and weak, showing the vulnerability that you knew only Rose would understand.

Rose’s eyebrows furrowed as you played the same riff again, missing the same note that you had several times. It wasn’t like you to miss notes, or to be indecisive.

Her hands moved to cover yours, stopping you from playing it again. “Baby, look at me,”

You sighed, your finger landing on the wrong note as you looked up at her, finally making eye contact.

Her thumb traced across your cheek as she searched you. It felt like she was peering into your very soul. “What’s going on?”

“I know you’ve been struggling to pick a song for our first dance,” You said slowly. “I was trying to surprise you. They ruined it. You saw it and now I can’t finish it,”

You watched as her face morphed from awe to something so much softer, and you leaned into her touch as she pulled you in for a very sweet kiss.

“Baby,” She smiled gently at you as she pulled away, and you saw the playful glint in her eyes. “They haven’t ruined everything. I may have heard a few of the words, but I can’t put a tune together with a few notes written on a page,”

You shook your head. “Still,”

You wanted it to be perfect. You knew your wedding day was likely to turn out like a fucking zoo, so you wanted to give her what you could. She deserved to have her dream wedding, and you hoped that you writing a song for her would help to make it that.

“I had it in my head, and now it’s just,” You flicked your hand. “Poof,”

Rose hummed, she knew how finicky your writing could be. How you could so easily be derailed. “You’ll figure it out, and then you can show me in your own time,”

Your shoulders lifted and dropped, and Rose knew that was all she would get out of you.

“But what I wanted to talk about more was your disappearing act,” She said seriously, and your shoulders hunched.

“I’m sorry,” You mumbled earnestly. “It was just too much,”

She nodded. If anyone understood it was her. You were a flight person more than you were a fight person, but you had promised her you wouldn’t run anymore a long time ago.

For the most part, you kept that promise. It worried her that today you hadn’t.

“I know, but pushing me away means I can’t help you,” She said gently. “It would have been better even if you just let me give you a hug before you ran off to meet Lena and Kara,”

You swallowed hard. You hadn’t waited because you didn’t want to fall apart on her. You needed to collect yourself before you faced her, and your management team always knew how to put you back together.

“I’m sorry,” Your voice broke as the words left your lips, and Rose pulled you closer to her. “I just needed to… process what I was feeling. It’s not always so cut and dry,”

She hummed, letting you tuck your face into her chest and just breathe her in. She knew it would comfort you more than anything she could say would.

She ran her hand through your chair, scratching your scalp, and enjoying getting to have you close. Enjoying that you were allowing her to comfort you.

You let out a long breath before pulling away and looking up at her. “I’m sorry I made a bad impression on your friends,”

She shook her head. “You didn't. They were fucking thrilled that you scolded them. Apparently, they think you're going to write a song about this or whatever,”

She waved her hand for effect, the same gesture you used most of the time when you were talking about the overzealousness of your fans. You couldn’t help but chuckle at her, shaking your head.

You would never truly understand your fans, no matter how much you tried or pretended to. But these weren’t just fans, these were her friends.

“I hope that someday they get to meet the real me,” You said, squeezing her hips. “Preferably before the wedding,”

Rose couldn’t help but cackle. “I’m sure we’ll get it all straightened out tomorrow. They were far less excited to get yelled at by Becky,”

You hummed, squeezing her hips again and just basking in the long moment. You knew you would have to break it. While you were technically on vacation, she was not.

“You have practice,” You said finally, glancing over at the clock. “And I should really work out this line before I go insane,”

“I know,” She shot you a sad sigh. “At least I’ll see you later,”

“I’m here for you all week babe,” You agreed with a nod. “And I’m taking you to dinner,”

She smirked. “You missed dessert last night, so be ready,”

You wiggled your eyebrows at her. “I’m always ready,”

“You’re too much,” She slapped your shoulder, and leaned in to kiss you, but before she could there was a knock at the door, and Becky’s head popped into the room.

She send a sorry smile your way, but you waved her off. You understood that Rose had things that she needed to do. You would never stop her from chasing after her dream.

You pulled away. “Go score some goals for me, I’ll be here when you get back,”

“Just don’t work too hard alright?” She said, moving a curl from in front of your eyes.

Your smirk widened. “No promises,”

“You’re going to be the death of me,” Rose said, her smile never leaving her face as she leaned in a placed a very sweet kiss on your lips.

“I love you,” You hummed against her,

“I love you too,” She smiled against your lips, lingering for another long second, her hands accidentally pressing into the keys behind you before pulling away.

Your head tilted at the sound, even though your eyes didn’t move to the key until Rose was out of sight.

Your finger landed on the key again, experimentally pressing it.

The A rang out across the ballroom like the hum of a tuning fork.

You shook your head, your lips parting. It was perfect.

Maybe you wouldn’t have to work so hard after all.

#uswnt x reader #uswnt imagines #uswnt imagine #rose lavelle x reader #rose lavelle imagine

357 notes · View notes

giggly-squiggily · 11 months

Text

The Elephant In The Room (Blue Lock)

Heyo! You know who's been on my mind alot lately? Reo. I don't write enough of him- and given what went down in this past season I figured he'd need some good ol tickles so that's what I did :D This got a fair bit angsty at times but like- Second Selection Reo is angsty. It kinda fits. I hope you like it!

Cloud 9 (Taglist)

@myreygn @cupcake-spice13

CW: Swearing, Angst, Blue Lock Spoilers (Second Selection)

Summary: It's about time they addressed the whole "Nagi situation". Reo's resistant and Kunigami's worried. Interestingly enough it's Chigiri who finds an effective solution.

“You don’t smile a lot, do you?”

Reo’s already existing scowl deepened, violet eyes glaring daggers into crimson as he curled up further in his bed. “What’s it to you, anyway? Not like you care whether I smile or not.”

“Ooo, moody.” Chigiri leaned into his hands, unfazed. It wasn’t the first night they were all staying together, but it was the first time any of them addressed the elephant in the room. “And here I thought I was bad.”

“You are.” Kunigami pointed out with a small grin, earning an eye roll and a less than kind gesture sent his way. “Really though- I don’t think you’re the person to really point that out, Princess. If I recall correctly, you barely smiled once when the team was first coming together.”

“Had a lot going on.” Chigiri shrugged, though his voice softened when addressing the hero. Turning back to Reo, he tried again. “Kay so- are we just gonna pretend the Nagi thing didn’t happen.”

“Yes.” Reo began just as Kunigami said. “Nope.”

Now he was glaring at the ginger, extra irritated. “Drop it will you? It’s got nothing to do with either of you.”

“Sure, but you’re our teammate. Not to mention our roommate. Can’t deny it gets a little tense when you’re glowering over there.” Kunigami shrugged, trying for a smile. “Besides- we’re in the same boat with Isagi-”

“It’s not the same.” Reo cut off, voice sharp. Chigiri raised brows as they shared a look.

“Okay- my bad. Just trying to feel it out.” Kunigami held up a hand in apology, not sure whether to push or let it be. Ideally if they were to make it to the end, they’d have to start getting along. They were fine on the field, but this uncomfortable eggshell dynamic was starting to wear on him. Maybe it was the altruist in him, but he wanted to show Reo that they were there for him.

“Lover’s quarrel?” Chigiri on the other hand seemed to want to antagonize the other. He flopped forward on the lower bunk and tucked his chin against his arms, feet kicking behind him like he was a girl at a slumber party. “That explains a lot- were you two dating before Blue Lock or…?”

“Chigiri..” Kunigami began, but he was cut off when Reo sat up, eyes scary.

“Drop it. Now.” He growled.

“Or what?” Chigiri asked back, boldy hopping out of his bed and flopping into Reo’s. “You’re gonna sulk more?” He reached out, poking Reo’s side. “You know- whenever the hero over there and I fight, it’s super dramatic. Lots of yelling and drama- one time I set his sweatpants on fire.”

“When’d you do that?” Kunigami blinked. Reo’s mouth was twitching, though the ginger suspected it was more from the relentless pokes Chigiri was giving in directly into his side.

“He forgot already. Don’t you know that’s what we fight about the most?” Chigiri kept poking, starting to grin when Reo’s lips wobbled, leaning away from the touch. “He’s got the memory of a goldfish. I bet you he’d already forgotten our anniversary.”

“I don’t ca-are! Ugh, go aw-way!” Reo leaned further from the pokes. Interestingly enough, he wasn’t climbing off the bed. Kunigami started to smile too.

“Oi, you said you loved my goldfish memory.” He got up and kneeled beside the bed, poking Reo’s other side. “You said I was the nicest fish you’ve ever won at the fair. Crazy one, this guy. He kissed me, and boom! I turned into a human! It was like a budget version of the Princess and the Frog.”

“Oi, who are you calling the budget version?” Chigiri raised a brow, still poking Reo. “I like to think I’m rather expensive.”

“Yep, a whole 2000 yen worth.”

“Motherfu-”

“Gohohohd, you two are annohohoohying!” Reo blurted out, unable to keep the giggles out of his throat. He doubled over, trying to block out the hands poking and prodding his sides and waist. At some point Chigiri shifted from pokes to grabbing, squeezing his side with gentle pressure while Kunigami increased the amount of fingers poking his ribs. “Goohohoohoho awhahahhay, I waahhahahant to brhohoohohhoohohod!”

“Nah, you’ve been brooding enough. We’re running out of toothbrushes.” Chigiri pointed out, bringing another hand in so he could squeeze Reo’s hip. That got a reaction- the purple haired striker doubled over with a cackle, rich sounding laughter exploding from his lips. “It’s bad enough you destroyed your own, but you even snapped mine in half! I had to get a new one from Ego-sensei!”

“Yeah- plus we don’t like seeing you so down.” Kunigami bailed on tickling his ribs to grab his other hip, squeezing and massaging it like Chigiri and increasing Reo’s laughing fits. “We want to help, Reo! Or at the very least- we want to be there for you. Talk to us!”

“GHEHAHHAHHAHAHAHAHA!” The purple haired teen let out a loud squeal, slapping at their hands as he squirmed, torn between guarding and elbowing them. His face was flushed red, and his eyes were squeezed shut with mirth- tears brimming the corners as he wheezed. “FIHHIHIHINE FIHIHIHIIHNE I’LL TAHAHAHHALK! NOW STAHAHHAHAHAHAP!”

“Hmm..should we, hero?” Chigiri asked, raising a brow at Kunigami. The ginger looked between him and Reo, considering.

“Yeah, let’s let him breathe, princess.” They released him, watching Reo fall back as he gasped for air. His bangs fell in his eyes, hiding them as he sucked in heavy breaths, legs twitching from remaining sensation. Chigiri hummed happily as he got comfortable, stealing Reo’s pillow and tucking it under his chin. Kunigami readjusted so he was sitting on his knees, arms folded against the bed as they waited for Reo to talk.

“Fihihirst….fuuhck you.” He grumped, earning a snort from Chigiri and a grin from Kunigami. Reo pushed his hair away, voice tired. “You two suck.” When they didn’t respond, he crossed his arms over his chest, closing his eyes. For a moment, it seemed like he was falling asleep.

“It’s not the same. You two- you found each other and that was that. Sure, you might be mad at Isagi for going on ahead, but at least you have one another.” Reo sounded so sad that moment, knuckles whitening as he shook with- what, tears? Anger? “You didn’t have to watch the person you care about abandon you after everything you’ve done for them. Nagi just- he didn’t even hesitate! He left me to join up with them and didn’t look back at all. It was like I didn’t exist…” He blinked rapidly, shaking his head so he wouldn’t cry. “Call it what you want- lover’s quarrel, my pet abandoning me, me being dramatic- I don’t care! It just really fucking hurt what he did.” A tear escaped. He refused to let the rest fall. “It really, really fucking hurts.”

The pair were quiet, letting Reo’s words fall over them as he struggled to wipe away the tears in his eyes. After a moment, Chigiri poked his arm, voice soft.

“Hey…sorry. About the pet comment.” He sounded like he meant it. “And about Nagi.”

“Don’t- I don’t care about him.” A lie and they all knew it.

“It’s okay to care. I’d be hurt too if Princess did that to me and vice versa.” Kunigami reached out, taking one of Reo’s hands, squeezing gently. “You don’t have to pretend you don’t care about him.”

“I d-don’t-” Reo sniffed, but he didn’t pull his hand away.

“Good. In that case let’s run him over.” Chigiri decided. That shocked a laugh out of Reo, startling him out of his tears.

“Where the hell are you gonna get a car? And besides- you can’t drive.” Kunigami blinked, shaking his head with a grin.

“Neither do half the people in the K-drama’s my sister watches but they still find a way.” Chigiri shrugged, giggling when Reo let out a snort, covering his face. “Fine- we’ll hit him with a shopping cart. Or maybe with a shoe. Covered in-”

“Ew stop!” Reo shoved Chigiri over, nearly sending him off the bed. He was smiling though- the first real one they’ve seen since they teamed up. “Ugh, you’re awful!”

“You knew that already.” Chigiri smiled cherublike, making Reo laugh more as he shoved his discarded pillow at him.

“I’ll take care of Nagi. It’s…fine.” Reo sighed, though this time it lacked its usual heaviness. “I’ll kick his ass in our next match against him, and that will be it. But erm…” He averted his gaze, neck reddening. “Thanks for eh…helping I guess.”

“Of course.” Kunigami nodded, standing up. “That’s what hero’s do.”

“And Princesses I suppose. Gotta help the little folk out every one and a while.” Chigiri rolled off the bed, making his way towards the bottom bunk across the way before face planting into it. “Man, I’m tired. Wake me up when the next match begins.”

Kunigami snorted as he pulled the discarded blanket over Chigiri, climbing up and into his own bed. Reo wiggled into his own just as the lights went out- bedtime across the entire stadium. His heart still hurt- a pain he knew wouldn’t go away until he and Nagi had words, but it didn’t hurt as bad now. He didn’t feel so…bottled up.

Maybe opening up to people wasn’t so bad. With people like Kunigami and Chigiri- he could see himself doing it more.

Thanks for reading!

#blue lock #reo mikage #chigiri hyoma #kunigami rensuke #tickle #tickle fic #hurt/comfort #angst with a somewhat happy ending #angst #tw: swearing #Reo needs some fluffy cheer up tickles y'all #He's been through it #Kunigiri #blue lock spoilers #blue lock anime spoilers #blue lock manga spoilers

71 notes · View notes

hallucie · 1 year

Text

1st MARS OBSERVATION:

✨Aries Mars✨ Okay, their anger is rational, but they often times over accelerate their force. They can be so calm and collected one moment and the next they’re beating your face in. They have such quick instincts it’s incredible. I notice they only get upset when they feel threatened or they want something to go their way. It’s not that they’re controlling, it’s that they don’t take the time to be persuaded (their instincts just kick in, they take action immediately). So to other people it seems like they’re controlling but really they just don’t have patience. These people NEED daily exercise. They have more energy than the average person.

✨Taurus Mars✨ When they want something they get it. Completely irrational but only when they’re after something. For the most part they’re very passive in the sense where they don’t care for drama so they don’t put themselves in it. Rarely ever having to show their force or assertion, unless there’s something in it for them BUT it has to be something of good value. Taurus Mars stick up for others very sternly but they know people make their own decisions so they’re passive in the way where they put their foot down and if someone crosses that line Taurus Mars just asserts their zero tolerance for bullshit. Taurus Mars have a consistent stamina, once they start going it’s hard for them to stop. Will give the silent treatment to avoid drama, they simply don’t care. They’re so secure within themselves.

✨Gemini Mars✨ Either gives the silent treatment or completely destroys someone with their words, but not in a ruthful way. It’s more of an observation they make & once they have all of the puzzle pieces together they just spit out so much information against the person they’re mad at. It’s like they notice small slights or minor tense moments that someone has towards them, but Gemini Mars are so passive they don’t take offense until they’ve truly had enough. Once they’ve taken enough stabs, then they just UNLOAD everything that’s ever rubbed them the wrong way about the person they’re upset with. The crazy thing is that once the tension has died down, it’s like nothing ever happened. They can go back to having a normal, silly, conversation. I think they do it to avoid conflict. Gemini Mars don’t like being mad. These people have A LOT of energy but it comes in spurts. They rest for a moment then they go, then rest, then go. Their instincts are quick witted and sly, every action has already been thought of and they act on which is best. They also ask other people for their opinions to take into consideration when making their decision to act.

✨Cancer Mars✨ They want to be passive so badly, but they do a bad job at hiding it. They often get mad at people for not having good morals. They’re the type of people to get mad at someone for being openly rude or being a bully. Their argument is being rational about how they feel and/or how it makes others feel— “You did this to me and it hurt my feelings, I’m not going to be around you if you keep this up.” Sometimes this can be seen as sensitive but honestly Cancer Mars are such good friends to have, they look out for the ‘little guy’. Their energy level is consistent, never off beat. They take time to nourish themselves when they’re tired so they can get up and keep going. I notice these people are so clean and tidy.

#mars #astro posts #astro placements #astro notes #astro observations #aries #taurus #gemini #cancer #zodiac #astrology

334 notes · View notes

imsososolesbian · 1 month

Text

Show Time

Crystal and Misty x Butch!reader (she/her pronouns used)

No warnings

Summary: You got cast as the male lead and the domino effect happened.

Word Count: 2626

Your friends off of your soccer team had dared you to try out for the school musical. Little did they know, you did like musicals, but that doesn’t mean you wanted to be in one. You had walked into the school's theatre right on time. Your soccer bag was hanging off your shoulder, and you slipped it off, putting it on the floor. You look around the area, spotting an open chair and sitting down, kicking your feet up onto the chair in front of you.

It was a little over five minutes before the teacher putting the show on came out. You had no clue who it was, but your guess was the drama teacher. You watch as the teacher sits down behind a table, pulling glasses up onto her nose, and tapping lightly on a microphone.

You shift in your seat slightly, fixing your shirt, making sure it sits right on you. You hadn’t worn your binder today, so it was a little awkward for you right now. The shirt wasn’t tight thankfully, so you didn’t feel like you were being choked.

A person had come around with different monologues. You didn’t get to pick which you wanted, you were just given one.

Your eyes scanned the words, taking them all in. It was simple enough. Just two small paragraphs from a play that they did last year you think. You knew that this year it was a musical and not a play this year though. It played in your favour, for you because you could sing.

You watch as people are called up on stage to say their lines, thankfully you could still read off the paper just so you don’t forget what you were saying.

It was dense, a lot of people. You had been there for over an hour before you were called up on stage. The lights were blinding and burning hot. It was a good feeling but boy did you hate it. You cleared your throat, walking in front of the microphone that was put on the stage. You take a deep breath before speaking into the microphone. Your voice only trembled for a second before you got it under control.

Your voice was smooth, and calculated. You paused at the right moments, and exaggerated on time. Your face held good emotion throughout, not wiveraing once. You were doing amazing so far. You hardly looked down at your page once, your eyes looking out to the audience.

You were on stage for only two minutes. You felt good about yourself as you went to sit back down on your chair. Yet after you had sat down is when your nerves started to act up, and you ran a hand through your hair. You hoped there were only a few more people to go, but you were so wrong. It was 4:30 by the time everyone was done. You were so tired.

You had a morning practice for soccer, and Jackie made everyone at lunch practice some more. It was bad. Usually you were fine with long games, but Jackie was bad with practices, especially with big games coming up. The practice at lunch wasn’t even started by your coaches, Jackie had just taken it upon herself to start another practice just in case.

You missed the last bus that would take you home, and you would usually walk when that happened, but you could hardly feel your legs, and your knees were screaming in pain at this point. You really wished that your parents had let you take their car today but they needed it more, even if both were off.

The sun was still up in the sky, beating down. You rub at your face as you start walking anyway. It wasn’t fun, but you were stopped halfway through the parking lot by a voice calling out your name. It was Misty… Great, just great, you thought you would only have to talk to her at soccer and no other time. You let out a sigh as you walk over to her. “Misty?”

She nods and points to a car, “My mom gave me the car today, and I know practice had to have been really hard for you, so I thought it would only be fair to offer you a ride.”

You rub at your forehead, wanting to say no, but knowing that you’d regret it. “... Had auditions for the school musical, and did great!” Misty had started talking again, but you only caught the last part and looked at her confused.

You nod though, and before you knew it you were being pulled by your hand over to Misty’s car. You didn’t know she was that strong. Her girl was biting into your skin, but you let it pass, not wanting to upset her. You had seen how she gets when upset and it really concerned you, and you really did not want to get on her bad side.

The back door of her car was opened and you got in. It felt stuffed, your knees felt like they were up to your chest as you pulled the seat belt over your chest. You could tell a person was sitting in the front seat already, but couldn’t make out who was until she started talking.

“You did so well at auditions! I was amazed! No guy has anything on you!” The person said, and moved so her face was looking into the back seat at you, and you could make out it was Crystal. You smiled in thanks and nodded your head.

“You did too. I saw you up there. It was amazing. It was like you were commanding the whole room. No one could take their eyes off of you,” your hands moved widely as you explained to Crystal about how you felt about her performance.

The ride was okay after that. Misty dropped Crystal off first and you got to sit in the front seat. You and Misty had got to talking, and you figured out that as much as she was messed up she was still somewhat nice. You actually kind of started to like her. It was weird to you.

By the time you had gotten home all you wanted to do was shower and then crash, which is what you did. You took a fifteen minute shower, got into old pyjamas, quickly dried your hair and got into bed. You were so happy you didn’t have homework tonight. Your head was blank, no thoughts in your head. You were peaceful and got more than enough sleep that night. More sleep than you had in a long time.

The next day was horrid. Your body had adjusted to all the pain of soccer years ago but your legs still killed. You had woken up late, which was never a good sign for you. It meant that you were most certainly going to be late to school.

You had skipped breakfast, grabbing just a granola bar. You had been able to brush your teeth and hair, along with getting changed before you started running. You couldn’t see the bus yet, which was good and by the time you got to your bus stop you could see it rounding the corner to pick you up, and you let out a sigh of relief.

When you had walked through the doors of school, a bunch of the girls on the soccer team swarmed you. Throwing you into the middle of a group hug. You had just stood there confused as they continued to hug you.

“What got you guys so happy?”

You weren’t given a real answer, but you were tugged through the hallways, to the theatre. There was no one crowding the doors where the call back list was posted. In big red letters, next to the name Aaron was your name. You were surprised, you were getting a call back for the lead male? You were left speechless. You couldn’t believe what you were looking at. You didn’t think you’d be considered for the male lead.

The day after that was a whirlwind. You don’t remember anything other than you going to the call back. This time around you were reading actual lines from the musical. You once again felt like you did amazing. You stood up tall on the stage and read your lines with great power to your voice. You were also the only one in the room for call backs.

It was a few days before the cast list was posted. It was going to be posted at the end of the day, so you were on the edge of your seat the whole time. You didn’t like it, you felt anxious.

You had walked through the halls, a blank look on your face. It was like you were in a completely different state of mind than you normally were. The whole time you were moving your body. You couldn’t stay still. Your knee was bouncing when you were sitting down and you would fiddle with your hands whenever you were standing up.

The time had come and the list was posted. You waited till the halls cleared and walked to the theatre. Once it was in view you held your breath walking up to the doors. Your eyes scanned the list until you saw your name right next to Aaron. You got the lead. You wanted to cry but stopped yourself. You scanned the rest of the list, Crystal was Cady, you were really happy for her.

The next week was everyone getting to know each other, or getting to know each other better. Along with looking deeper into who each character was. You enjoyed it. You got to write paragraphs on how Aaron acted and his wishes. You then also had a chemistry reading with the girl playing Regina and Crystal. Everything was going great.

You loved the process, it was thrilling. You had also learned, after Misty said she’d drive you home in her mom’s car when you needed one. She told you she was stage manager, and also in charge of fashion. You didn’t know she liked fashion, seeing as she wasn’t too fashionable in your eyes.

The next months leading up to the musical you, Crystal and Misty hung out a lot more. You had let Misty test out outfits on you for Aaron in the privacy of one of the three of your houses. She would also watch you and Crystal act out sense and pumped the two of you up. You actually really started liking her.

You found yourself wanting to be the two everyday. You had started going to school earlier, even if it meant walking. You’d hang out with the two before having to go to class.

One day when Misty was dropping you off, you leaned over the centre console and kissed her. You froze, looking over at her, “I’m so sorry,” you had fear in your eyes, and she just shrugged.

“It was nice. Thanks.”

You look at Misty stunned. You didn’t know she’d be that chill with it. Yet you were embarrassed that you had just got out of the car and ran up to your house. And had cried somewhat in the hall once the door was closed.

The next few days were hellish for you. It was Crystal who forced you to talk to Misty because she was getting annoyed that your little ‘fight’ was making it so you and Crystal weren’t doing good for practice anymore. It was different without Misty and she didn’t like it, and nor did you.

So you and Misty talked. It was long and hard but the two of you came out dating.

The two of you dating was amazing! But it wasn’t amazing when you and Crystal got to the part of the script where the two of you would have to kiss. You could tell that Misty didn’t like the idea, because whenever the part would happen she’d look away, but she still let you do it.

Even if you were dating Misty now, you also had been finding yourself falling for Crystal. You didn’t mean to but it was hard. She was nice, funny, and so talented it was insane.

You knew you had to bring it up to Misty. You had waited for the right time, and it came one night when the three of you were at Misty’s and Crystal was asleep. You and Misty were down in her kitchen, you were leaning against the kitchen counter as Misty made the two of you a drink.

“Hey Misty… I think I like someone else? But at the same time I also really like you. And I don’t know what to do. I want to be with you but I also like this person and I really don’t know what to do at all and I’m really sca-” you got cut off by Misty wrapping her arms around your waist, and pulling you close to her.

“Let me guess. It’s Crystal right? I mean you look at her like she hung the stars or something,” Misty murmurs out, looking up into your eyes.

“I do yeah. I’m really sorry, Misty. It’s hard not to like her. Just like how it was hard not to like you.”

Misty laughs and shakes her head, a smile on her face, “I may not like it too much, but I must agree with you. She is hard not to like. I’ll be honest I’ve had a huge crush on her too, until I got with you that is. But seeing the two of you kiss kinda made my crush on her come back but in full force.”

“We’re both fucked, aren’t we?” You ask as you lean your head down on her shoulder, closing your eyes.

“What are you guys talking about?” You look over, your head still on Misty’s shoulder and make eye contact with Crystal.

“My bad use of my binder?” You lie, but she gives you a look, like she knows you are lying, and Misty just shakes her head.

“She’s pulling your leg. We’re talking about you” Misty piped up and you wanted to hit her on the arm, but didn’t because you were too comfortable in her arms.

“Why?”

You couldn’t look at Crystal anymore, you had turned your head back forwards. You could hear the two talk, but couldn’t focus on what they were saying because you were scared. You were even more scared when Misty let go of you and walked over to Crystal and you saw them kiss. You felt a little hurt but then Crystal and Misty came back over to you.

Crystal smiled at you, “So, we all like each other,” she had said, snapping you out of your daze, and all you can do is nod.

“Then can I kiss you?” You looked at Crystal in aw, but find your voice and speak up.

“Yeah.”

And that’s just what she does. She kisses you. You feel like you're on cloud nine. In the spawn of two months you’ve kissed two pretty girls.

The rest of the time from there on out, Misty, Crystal and you dated. It was amazing. What was more amazing was you were able to act alongside your girlfriend in a musical where you were her character's love interest. And Misty made sure the two of you had the best costumes.

Your last performance was magical because after that the three of you went out on a date, and had an amazing night.

The three of you were so happy together. You were never more grateful for Mean Girls the musical before in your life.

#yellowjackets x reader #misty quigley #misty quigley x reader #crystal yellowjackets #crystal x reader

14 notes · View notes

mlmvoreconfessionals · 1 year

Note

How about some mass vore with Te.m from Beaststars? Having him turn the tables on Ri.z and then develop cravings from such a large meal sounds fun! With some disposal and weight gain after eating so many bigger prey should leave its mark!

Definitely, sounds like a great idea!

It had been an accident. Or, at least, as much of an accident as trying not to get murdered can be. When R.iz finally cornered him, he thought it was over, and T.em had screamed as the bear lunged at him to tear him apart. And then he stopped. Something big had wedged itself into his mouth, and T.em was so panicked, he just started swallowing on instinct. He didn't even realize the thing he was gulping down was R.iz until he was staring at the bear-shaped bulge stretching out his stomach. He couldn't even say anything in his shock, just let out belches that rival the loud roars R.iz made.

The next day, T.em heard people talking about the heap of shit they'd found in one of the classrooms. Everyone had expected something like this to happen to one of the herbivores on campus, but a carnivore? Especially one like R.iz? That was what made it spread so fast. T.em could only blush at the thought, fiddling with the buttons on his uniform. They're just barely keeping his shirt closed over his new pot belly and he's not sure how to explain that he'll need a size up for them.

T.em had been hoping to just forget the whole thing and move on with his life. No one would ever believe he devoured, digested, and dumped R.iz out, and he didn't want to get in trouble in case someone did. So he did his best to ignore the whole thing and move on. But his stomach had different ideas, and as the days go on, the carnivores of the drama club make it growl louder and louder each time he sees them. He finally reaches a breaking point when he tries to bite B.ill's tail and he knows he can't hold back anymore.

T.em lured the tiger in question to a storage room under the guise of needing help lifting a box. He'd never suspect anything of the small herbivore, so when T.em launched himself at B.ill, the tiger found it funnier more than anything. At least until T.em's maw was sliding over his head and sucking him down. The tiger wasn't laughing too much then, but as his broad shoulders start disappearing, it's too late for him to fight back as he goes from proud predator to delicious prey. It had been just as easy to work him down as it had been to work R.iz down, and T.em hoped that meant the rest of the process would be. He'd be wrong.

He was face to face with L.egoshi, the wolf having come by to see what was taking the two so long. The wolf looks from T.em's wide eyes, to the tiger tail sticking out of his lips, to the B.ill shaped bulge in his gut. With a slurp, T.em sends the last of B.ill down and tackles L.eogshi next. The weight of B.ill hanging off his middle lets T.em people the wolf, and in the confusion, he gets his maw over L.egoshi's muzzle and begins to guzzle him down next. And as he's packing the last of the wolf away, T.ao came in after hearing the commotion. After that, T.em is beginning to consider this may have been a bad idea as he horks down kicking albatross legs.

T'em belches thickly as he gets the last of A.oba down the hatch. He's stuffed silly, his gut so taut around his meals that the four of them can barely move. He plants himself down in front of the door this time, making sure it stays shut so he doesn't have a surprise fifth course. He just needs to sit here until he's got all of this worked down...ugh, this was such a terrible idea. No going back now, though.

T.em would feel a few more attempts at opening the door, but the muffled screaming of his meals must have been too muted because they gave up pretty quick. He thumps his chest and lets out another massive belch as he hears them walk away. Hopefully, he'll be left in peace now. He's going to be staying the night in this closet for sure...

Sure enough, that's what happened, although T.em wound up sleeping through most of it as his stomach processed four predators down with relative ease. They yelled and screamed for as long as they could, but their strong bodies steadily fell apart until the tight walls and boiling acids. T.em belches in his sleep as the last odd lumps in his gut smooth out and he's left with nothing but a bubbling dome on his middle.

Over the rest of the night, T.em's stomach would slowly shrink back, pumping all the thick sludge deeper into his system. When he woke up, he'd get to see how much fatter he got first hand. His pants have ripped around his ass and thick and his boxers were barely hanging on. His shirt wasn't even coming close to buttoning up over his large stomach, and he could feel his much rounder face heating up with embarrassment. Not as embarrassing as what he's going to do, though...

With his pants ruined, all T.em has to do is squat down and push. R.iz had been a big dump, but that was nothing compared to the logs T.em was squeezing out now. Each one was thicker than his leg and just as long, too. All the bones and fur packed into the dense logs might be why. T.em groaned as each one slides out of him, hitting the ground under with a thud before the next started sliding out. By the time he's done, the pile is up to his knees, and four skulls are poking out at different parts, all easy to identify. T.em would slip out unseen so early, and when news started spreading of a predator predator on campus, his belly would let out a soft gurgle for more.

#v.ore #male vore #mlm vore #m/m vore #gay vore #vore story #oral vore #mass vore #digestion #fatal vore #weight gain #disposal #beastarsvore #temvore #rizvore #billvore #legoshivore

29 notes · View notes

sofyachy · 10 months

Text

Let's say Good Omens Season 3 ends with Aziraphale and Crowley becoming mortal. They are born on Earth to human parents, learning how to walk, talk, and experience life without knowledge of the other.

One day, a six-year-old blond boy is facing down a gang of older bullies when another boy with bright red hair zooms in between them on a motorized scooter. The other boy is also six years old and barely tall enough to see over the handlebars, but he snarls at the bullies and threatens to kick their arses. Surprisingly, it's enough of a bluff to make them give up and find something else to do.

"You all right?" The boy with the scooter asks.

"Y-yes, I think so," the blond boy answers, and stands up, dusting himself off. He's never liked getting his clothes dirty.

"I'm Tony," the redhead says. He holds out his hand.

"Ozzie," the blond boy answers, shaking his hand.

"What, like Ozzie Osborne?" Tony grins. "Wicked!"

Ozzie frowns. "It's not wicked!"

Tony raises his eyebrows. "It's not?"

Ozzie shakes his head. "If you must know, I was named after my Uncle Osmond. Only my mum says I'm not ready to grow into a name like that yet, so everyone calls me Ozzie."

Tony gives Ozzie an impressed look, though Ozzie wonders if maybe the redhead is just humoring him. "S'alright," he answers, "you look more like an angel than a metalhead anyway."

"Oh."

"Wanna lift?"

Ozzie looks dubiously at the scooter. "On that?"

"Sure!" Tony moves his feet to the front of the kick board. "Climb on behind me and hold on."

"Hold on to what?" Ozzie asks, stepping on behind him. He reaches for the handlebars, but it's an awkward angle and he's too short to get any leverage.

"You can hold on to me," Tony says. They take off, Ozzie's arms wrapped tightly around Tony's torso like a limpet, speeding down the road of their quiet little English village.

Ozzie can't help but scream when Tony narrowly misses a mailbox. "You're going too fast!" he cries, and buries his face on Tony's shoulder. Tony just grins and scoots them on down the road.

Since then, the two are inseparable -- save only when Tony is grounded (a not infrequent occurrence). They go on little adventures together in their neighborhood. Tony has taken to calling Ozzie Angel, and Ozzie doesn't mind. In fact, he secretly likes it. It's great fun, they both think, having each other as a best friend.

When they're nine years old, Ozzie sits next to Tony's hospital bed and reads to him. Tony crashed his scooter and can't do much else but listen, what with both arms broken and a leg in traction. Tony wrinkles his nose impatiently, and Ozzie gets the hint and scratches it for him. Tony sighs in relief.

It's a rainy day when they're both twelve, taking refuge from the bad weather in Ozzie's treehouse. Ozzy can see Tony's agitated about something, but he can't think what.

"Angel, I've been thinking," Tony says. He fidgets nervously. "How long have we known each other? Six who-ole years!" He waves his hand in agitation. Ozzie nods patiently, giving him the space to say what he needs to say. Six years was a very long time -- half their lives, in fact.

"I can always rely on you. You can always rely on me. We're a team! A group! And we could be -- we could be --" Tony's voice cracks.

Ozzie reaches forward and takes Tony's hand in both of his. Tony shudders in surprise.

"We could be us," Ozzie finishes for him. He smiles gently and plants a small, delicate kiss on Tony's cheek.

"Well, yeah." Tony smiles back. It's a more bashful smile than he's ever smiled before.

And so they continue growing up together, this time as boyfriends. Their adolescence is filled with awkward school dances, high school drama, sneaking off to find moments when they can be alone together, getting grounded when they're out too late, or when, surprisingly, Ozzie's grades slip below his usually stellar record. They meet up in the village park at night and lie on a blanket together, gazing up at the stars and listening to the nightingales sing.

Their relationship is tested when they're accepted into different colleges. It's hard, especially since they have spent almost all of their time together since they were six, but they call and text each other every day and make plans to meet in London on as many weekends as they can.

Everyone tells them that it can't last. People change as they get older, they're both told. Don't expect him to stick around forever. But despite the odds, neither one of them has any interest in exploring other relationships. When asked, they can't explain it. "I'm strictly Tonysexual," Ozzie tells them.

On one of their trips to London, Ozzie drags Tony into a vintage clothing shop. He practically squeals over an old cream-colored coat. "Would you look at this! Isn't it beautiful?" He slips his arms into the sleeves and spins around in delight. Tony can't answer that question honestly without ruining that gorgeous smile on his boyfriend's face, so he settles for stoic supportive mode.

"And this bow tie! Can you believe it?" Tony doesn't even have any reservations about shelling over the money. He's never shared Ozzie's love of vintage, but he'd do anything to keep that smile brighter than the sun.

No one is surprised when Ozzie finishes his library science degree and gets a job in the rare book archive at his university. Tony summons the willpower to get through law school and pass the bar. He's never been keen on studying, but he's found that he likes arguing cases, and it pays well enough for him to take care of his angel, which is all he's ever wanted.

They get married with all their friends and family present. It's cliches, but they both think of it as the best day of their lives. They buy a house, and over the next few years, they're joined by two cats, a dog, and a baby girl they name Muriel. It's a blur of domestic activity, and it's not always pretty -- there are fights over dirty clothes on the floor, whose turn it is to change the nappy, cleaning up after the cat barfs on the sofa. Their dinner dates get less frequent as parenthood saps them of their energy after work.

But they make up and move forward. The moments of joy they share over family picnics and first steps are enough to help them forget the bad times.

"I'm sure it's fine," Ozzie tells an angry Tony, who is sitting on the sofa with his arms crossed. Ozzie can practically see steam coming out of his ears. "But I suppose it is awfully late, isn't it? Should we have some tea?"

"Hrmph," Tony grunts.

The front door cracks open, and a teenage girl tries to slip quietly into the house and up the stairs without being noticed.

"You're LATE," Tony seethes. The girl freezes. She turns to them with a nervous grin.

"Oh, hi, Daddy, hi, Papa, I didn't think you'd still be up. I didn't want to wake you."

Ozzie sighs. Tony leaps up.

"Young lady, do you have any idea what time it is?! We told you to be home by ten o'clock sharp! Now go to your room -- you're grounded until college!"

Muriel bursts into tears. "Oh Daddy, you're so mean!" With that, she runs off to her room.

The years continue to slip by. Muriel goes off to college (she was not, in fact, grounded until then). And then she's getting married, and Ozzie and Tony are both proud and devastated at losing their little baby girl. Then grandkids come into the picture, and they find they're happy to entertain the kids for a few hours and give them back to Muriel at the end of the day. Tony particularly takes delight in getting them all sugared up and then giving them loud, obnoxious toys to take home. The worst of this is at the twins' fourth birthday party, when twenty-four children each get a kazoo.

Ozzie and Tony eventually retire. They expect this to give them more time to do all the tings they put off while they were working -- and in a way, it does, but they manage to fill up their schedules with world travel and volunteering for various charities and the occasional vintage auto show.

They're eighty-five when Ozzie faints as they exit the theater. They had been seeing a play on the West End. An ambulance rushes them both to the nearest hospital. The doctors discover a grapefruit-sized tumor next to his colon. The next two years are a mess of doctor's appointments and treatments. Tony wants to go for the most aggressive options possible, but at Ozzie's age, the doctors refuse to take those risks.

Tony is beside himself with worry. It's a special kind of hell, watching the love of his life get progressively weaker and sicker, and there's nothing he can do to stop it. But Ozzie takes it all with the patience of a saint. He never misses an opportunity to tell Tony how much he loves him.

Tony hangs on for another three years after his angel slips away. He'd have much rather gone sooner, because what's the point, but there is Muriel and a team of nurses who shuffle him around the retirement home and make sure he's taking his pills. And he answers all their care with pure cantankery, grumbling and snarling that he doesn't want any more prunes, and he will absolutely hit them in the head with this bedpan if they try to pick him up again.

"Tony," a familiar voice finally calls to him, rousing him from sleep.

"Hmm?"

"Crowley."

He opens his eyes. His angel is back, and more beautiful than ever, no longer sick or frail with age.

Aziraphale smiles at him. "Crowley, it's time to come home." He holds out his hand, and Tony takes it.

His hand's not withered and wrinkled anymore, either. For that matter, he's not Tony anymore. He's not a demon, either. He doesn't know what he is, but it doesn't matter.

"I've missed you, angel," he sighs.

"And I you." Aziraphale gazes warmly at him.

And just like that, they're together again. A Team. Them.

"Right," Crowley says, "what do we do now?"

"Well, I hear Alpha Centauri is quite nice at this time of year. Shall we?" He gestures forward.

"You know, I've always wanted to go there."

"I do know."

And with that, they both spread big, wide wings and fly toward the stars.

#good omens #fanfic #I think I might have gotten carried away with this one #why am i crying

13 notes · View notes