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#GENUINELY i tried not to share this but it's been on my mind now for several hours
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AITA for block evading to make sure someone is still alive?
So this whole situation gets rather complicated and quick, so please bear with me… TW for mention of suicide.
I (20m) previously made friends with a younger artist (about 17f by now if I’m remembering correctly; please keep an open mind here) after being unaware of their age and just following them for their art for a few years. One day, when I was 18 and I believe they were maybe 15-16, I reached out to let them know that I had been deeply influenced by their art and thought a lot of their work was very fun and humorous, and we kept in contact afterward mostly through public chat spaces, just joking around with each other and sharing art and memes and the like.
I want to stress that I had absolutely zero foul intentions here. They were a lonely kid without many friends, and I felt for them; I went through a lot of the same shitty situations (namely an abusive home) they were actively going through, and genuinely all I wanted was to offer them a safe space and a friend. I know that people sometimes get weird about friendships across age gaps, but I sincerely only wanted to help where I could. To this day I’m still not sure if I went about it the right way, but that’s a discussion for my therapist and not for here.
Fast forward some time. I discover that the other artist didn’t have a lot of friends for various reasons that were all linked mostly back to their immaturity, which I didn’t mind considering that they were. Y’know. Kids. But part of this immaturity was just… not understanding time restraints and boundaries, and that reflected back at me, despite multiple instances of me sitting them down and having talks with them about it as gently as I could. These talks were usually just about them messaging me constantly, literally non-stop, in the middle of the night, during school hours, etc etc etc. During this time, I became sick — very sick. I stand now chronically ill and permanently disabled. I was sick, scared, and exhausted, and yet I was expected by this friend to talk to them literally constantly, or else they would get upset. And it took a further toll on my ailing health, because no matter how many times I tried to tell them that I physically couldn’t talk to them as much as they were demanding I do, it never seemed to resonate.
I started reaching out less and less, because I just physically couldn’t handle talking to someone That Much for That Long… It wasn’t personal. It came to a point where our chats went completely silent, and even if I did reach out to try and talk, they wouldn’t reply or would only do so in very short, clipped responses. So I respected the obvious decision they had come to and just… kind of stopped trying to reach out. I was still a follower of theirs, though, so I would visit their profile every now and then just to make sure they were doing okay as a means to soothe my own worries.
Then they made a post alluding to offing themselves, went radio silent across all their platforms for a few days despite my best efforts to reach out, until I tried to check up on them again and found myself blocked everywhere. This made me panic; I genuinely didn’t know what to do. It took me a while to even remember that I could just… log in to a new account online rather than the app to check up on them, and after a few weeks of doing this, I was relieved to find that they’re still doing okay and back to posting semi-regularly. I don’t know the details, but at least they’re alive, y’know? That’s all that matters to me. Now, I just try to check every month or so to make sure they’re okay, and I’ll send them little anon messages trying to uplift them, or tell them to stay strong… I’m aware that it probably falls under stalker territory or something, but I genuinely only want the best for them, and as it stands, I don’t have a whole lot of other ideas for how to at least make sure that they’re okay…
Anyway… I’m making this post because there was another “AITA” post that got torn apart by people for someone evading a block for some reason or another, and I guess I was just compelled to see if this story would get a similar reaction… 🤷‍♂️
So yeah. AITA for block evading to make sure someone is still alive?
What are these acronyms?
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sysig · 5 days
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But would you tho (Patreon)
#Doodles#SCII#Helix#Schuldig#ZEX#And again the Captain implied from offscreen lol#Two little things ♪ One that Actually happened and one speculation lol#I really like Schuldig :D He's the likeable asshole type and his quirk is very well written :)#I love how he gets on Zelnick's case about his wishy-washy-ness in regards to xenophilia generally and ZEX specifically hehe#Zelnick has no good answer for him! It's so cute hehe <3#But then he turns right around and is wishy-washy himself!! I get the feeling his frustration stems a bit from relating hahaha#Or maybe Zelnick's uncertainty influenced him! It's not such an easy decision to make when you're staring down the barrel is it now :)#Openly attracted to Max's body and flattered by ZEX's personality and outright attraction to him in turn but the alien aspect is too much pf#Sure right okay lol - I have no skin in this game so I'll have to take his word for it haha#Secondarily speculating around ZEX's attraction and standards lol it sounds like an oxymoron but no he is actually a bit picky!#Yes he loves humans generally but he is actually tempered by what mind inhabits what body! It's so interesting to me!#I think it's especially funny how his various desires are in conflict with each other haha#Like it makes sense that he controls himself around Fwiffo - poor thing would have a heart attack - but he genuinely seems less attracted!#Which makes sense to me as well ♪ Spathi and VUX share several traits and were on the same side during the War so he's familiar with them#And he's specifically attracted to differences and novelty - it all lines up!#And then there's also his pride lol he tries to make more friends than enemies of course but he still gets petty and patronizing <3#If he's actually upset with someone /he's/ the one who would need convincing! It's all very interesting :3c#And then there's the matter of his own body vs. Max's body - he's so upset at the metaphysical implications of cloning his consciousness#I've never thought of ZEX in the context of the ''Would you fuck your clone'' questionnaire but I guess I know his answer now haha#Though I still wonder what his reaction would be to Max :0 He's probably not close enough to be ZEX but he is /a/ ZEX - of a sort#All his introspection about the body he's in has my mental ears perked haha - pity and worry for the potential life he's replacing#Discomfort at possibly being Max in some capacity including continuing to be in his body but also of overtaking his life entirely#And of being backed into a corner - Max is pitiful as well as pitiable! Neither of them want to be Max Vyer really#He loves humans but how far does that extend when push comes to shove ♪ It's been interesting watching him fumble through it :)
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fvsm4x · 4 months
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#MAYBE IN ANOTHER LIFE? [Gojo Satoru]
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SUMMARY: Your boyfriend, who you loved more than anything, who was your will to live, broke up with you.
— C.W: ex-boyfriend! Gojo satoru x depressed! female reader , dark themes , slightly geto suguru x female reader , no curses au.
— WORD COUNT: 5.3k+
NEXT
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„I think we should break up.“
Gojo’s words hung in the air, as he looked into your eyes.
Your heart skipped a beat, and you fought to keep the tears at bay. You desperately tried to maintain your composure, not wanting to show Gojo just how deeply his words had wounded you.
“Why? What happened?“ You managed to ask, your voice trembling.
Gojo’s gaze softened, but his eyes held a distant look, as if his mind was already elsewhere. “I’ve found someone else,” he admitted, his words like a dagger to your fragile heart.
A whirlwind of emotions engulfed your thoughts. Insecurity, confusion, and a deep sense of betrayal washed over you. You had always known Gojo was popular, surrounded by women who seemed to possess an otherworldly beauty that you could only dream of. But you had hoped that your connection would be strong enough to withstand any external temptations.
As tears welled up in your eyes, you couldn’t help but question your own worth. Gojo had been your beacon of light, the one who had brought joy and stability into your chaotic world. You had believed that your love was strong enough to overcome any obstacles.
But now, faced with the harsh reality of Gojo’s confession, your insecurities resurfaced with a vengeance.
How could Gojo have led you on, making you believe that your love was real, only to discard you so easily for someone else?
But despite the storm of emotions raging within you, you knew that you had to find the strength to let Gojo go. You couldn’t force someone to love you, no matter how much you wanted to.
And so, with a heavy heart and tears streaming down your face, you whispered, “If that’s what you truly want, then I won’t stand in your way.”
You wiped away your tears and caught Gojo’s gaze. His eyes were filled with regret and sadness, and you could see the pain he felt in his expression. It was as if he realized the gravity of his decision and the hurt he had caused you.
“I’m so sorry,” Gojo whispered, his voice filled with genuine remorse. “I never wanted to hurt you. It’s not about your worth or how you compare to anyone else. It’s about me and my own shortcomings.”
You looked at him, surprised by his words.
“I understand,” you replied softly, your voice filled with a mix of sadness and acceptance. “I know I can’t change your feelings or make you stay. I’ll start packing my things so you can have your apartment back.”
As you rose from the plush couch, your footsteps echoed through the spacious apartment, the sound muffled by the thick carpet beneath your feet. With a heavy heart, you made your way to the bedroom you had once shared with Gojo. The room seemed to hold its breath, as if aware of the impending change that would soon occur.
You opened the grand closet, its ornate doors revealing a collection of clothes and personal belongings. The air was filled with a bittersweet nostalgia as you carefully selected each item, their presence a testament to the love and happiness you had once shared. The room seemed to whisper your name, its walls bearing witness to the countless moments of joy and intimacy that had unfolded within its confines.
As you held each cherished possession in your hands, memories flooded your mind like a river. The soft touch of Gojo's hand, the warmth of his embrace, and the laughter that had once filled the room. Each item carried a weight of emotions, a reminder of the love you had believed to be unbreakable.
Gojo, sitting on the edge of the bed, watched you with a pained expression. The reality of the situation seemed to settle in, and he realized the depth of the connection he was severing. The room felt colder, emotions hanging thick in the air.
As you folded your clothes and placed them in a suitcase, Gojo finally spoke again, his voice carrying a tinge of regret. "I never wanted it to come to this, Y/n. You deserve happiness, and I hope you find it even if it's without me."
His words lingered, a bittersweet acknowledgment of the end. The room, once filled with shared laughter and intimate moments, now felt like a haunting memory. The pain was palpable, and you couldn't help but wonder if it would ever subside.
As you zipped up your suitcase, Gojo approached, his hand hesitating in the air as if unsure whether to touch you.
He gently brushed away a tear that rolled down your cheek.
"I'm truly sorry," he murmured,
With your suitcase in hand, you stood near the doorway, taking one last look at the place that had been your shared sanctuary. It was a goodbye to not only Gojo but also to the dreams you had woven together.
As you walked out, Gojo remained in the room, the emptiness echoing the void left by the shattered relationship. The door closed behind you, sealing the end of a chapter that had once promised forever.
-
In the days that followed, the task of finding a new place to call home became increasingly overwhelming. The once vibrant city, which had once been a source of shared dreams and promises, now seemed indifferent to your struggles. Each apartment viewing brought with it a fresh wave of emotions, serving as a painful reminder of the life you had envisioned with Gojo.
In the midst of this turmoil, old habits resurfaced. You found yourself reaching for cigarettes and turning to alcohol as a means of coping.
It was disheartening, as you had believed that these vices were behind you after Gojo entered your life and seemingly fixed all your problems. But now, they have reappeared, threatening to consume you once again.
What made matters worse was the lack of support you had. There were no parents to lean on, no friends to turn to for help. You were left to navigate this challenging situation all on your own, starting from scratch.
Before meeting Gojo, you had worked countless jobs to pay your bills and support your studies, scraping by with whatever little money you had.
The weight of it all was taking its toll on you. You felt yourself falling apart, the stress and uncertainty chipping away at your resolve.
But then, Gojo appeared, and your life took an unexpected turn. It was as if the universe had conspired to bring the two of you together. The first time you laid eyes on him was when you were working as a waitress at a cozy bakery. As he walked in, time seemed to stand still. Your heart skipped a beat as you took in his striking features.
His vibrant blue eyes, reminiscent of a clear summer sky, held a depth that drew you in. His snow-white hair and lashes added an ethereal touch to his already captivating appearance. And when he smiled, it was as if the whole room lit up with warmth and charm. You were instantly captivated by his presence, unable to tear your gaze away.
To your surprise, Gojo noticed your lingering glances and, with a confident stride, approached the counter where you were working. He invited you to join him, and you couldn’t resist the opportunity to spend more time with this enigmatic man. As you sat together, indulging in delectable desserts, the hours seemed to melt away in a blur of laughter and shared stories.
Days turned into weeks, and Gojo became a regular at the bakery, always seeking your company. The two of you would engage in deep conversations that spanned a wide range of topics, from the trivial to the profound. Each interaction only deepened your connection, and before you knew it, you found yourself falling for him.
However, amidst the blossoming romance, a nagging doubt lingered in the back of your mind. You couldn’t help but notice the parade of women that seemed to surround Gojo. He would visit the bakery at least twice a week, each time accompanied by a different woman. They would engage in affectionate displays, acting as if they were a couple.
As you observed these interactions, a wave of insecurity washed over you. Comparisons became inevitable, and you couldn’t help but feel inadequate in comparison to these stunning women. Their flawless skin, plump breasts, and alluring curves seemed to highlight your own perceived shortcomings. Their beauty was undeniable, and you couldn’t help but wonder if you would ever measure up.
But despite these doubts, Gojo continued to seek your company, showing genuine interest in your thoughts, dreams, and aspirations. His actions spoke louder than words, and you began to question your own self-doubt. Perhaps there was more to this connection than meets the eye.
Maybe, just maybe, Gojo saw something in you that went beyond physical appearances.
Motivated by this newfound hope, you made a conscious effort to break free from your bad habits. Weeks turned into months, and Gojo continued to visit the bakery every day just to see you.
However, one day, something special happened. Gojo waited patiently for you to finish your shift and then walked you back to the motel where you were staying. It was during this walk that he truly realized how difficult your life actually was.
Seeing you work tirelessly, with dark circles under your eyes and wearing the same clothes day after day, Gojo couldn’t bear to see you living in such difficult conditions. He noticed the presence of alcohol and cigarettes in your room and insisted that you stay with him instead. He wanted to provide you with a better life, free from the struggles you had been facing.
And so, you took up Gojo’s offer and moved in with him.
And that's when you became a couple.
But after two years of being in a relationship with Gojo, he found someone else. The person who used to hold you in his arms, whisper sweet words of love, and make you feel like the most important person in his life was now directing those affectionate gestures towards someone else.
You didn’t want to let him go. The thought of losing him was devastating. However, you also understood that you couldn’t force him to stay with you if his heart was no longer fully committed. Questions swirled in your mind. Did you do something wrong? Were you not exciting enough for him anymore? Was there something else that led him to find someone new?
Despite the heartache, one thing remained certain- your love for Gojo would never fade. The pain of knowing that he loved someone else, someone who wasn’t you, was excruciating. No one could ever replace the way Gojo had changed you, the way he had touched your heart and made you feel alive.
You sat alone in the dimly lit motel room, a bottle of liquor in hand, you sought solace in the numbing effects of alcohol. The pain in your heart seemed unbearable, and you hoped that drowning your sorrows would provide temporary relief.
The room felt suffocating. Each sip of the bitter liquid seemed to momentarily wash away the ache, but deep down, you knew it was only a temporary escape. The truth remained that Gojo had moved on, and you were left grappling with the shattered pieces of your heart.
With a heavy sigh, you placed the half-empty bottle on the grimy nightstand and slowly rose from the disheveled bed. Your footsteps carried you towards the suitcase, which stood dutifully beside a small table, as you rummaged through its contents in search of something comfortable to wear for the night. The weight of your emotions bore down on you, causing you to push up your hoodie, removing it with a forceful toss onto the nearby chair, as you attempted to regain control over your tears.
The question echoed in your mind once again, piercing through the haze of confusion and hurt. How could he do this to you? The betrayal felt like a knife twisting in your heart, leaving you gasping for air amidst the waves of anguish.
You made your way towards the mirror. Your reflection stared back at you, a vulnerable and exposed version of yourself. The longer you gazed upon your topless form, the deeper the sadness seeped into your being. Your hand instinctively reached out, fingers grazing the surface of your bare stomach, as if trying to grasp the weight.
Could it be that your weight gain was the reason behind his abandonment? Did he no longer desire to be with you because of the changes in your body? The thought gnawed at your self-esteem, fueling the belief that the girl he now chose to be with possessed a flat stomach, a flawless figure, and enviable curves. Qualities that you, in your own eyes, did not possess.
Feeling the ache in your stomach intensify, you released your grip and turned your attention back to the task at hand. Pulling out a set of comfortable pajamas from your suitcase, you quickly changed into them, hoping that the soft fabric would provide some comfort amidst the chaos of your emotions.
As you lay down on the bed, the worn-out mattress offering little respite, your mind raced with thoughts of the uncertain future that lay before you. The realization hit hard – you would have to find a job, and fast. The fear of being kicked out of the motel, with nowhere else to go, loomed over you like a dark cloud.
You lay there, staring at the ceiling, your mind began to form a plan. You closed your eyes, the weight of exhaustion finally settling upon you.
-
Days turned into nights, and nights into days as you tirelessly searched for a job. The motel room became a temporary refuge, a place where you could rest your weary body and gather your thoughts before facing the world again. And then, finally, your efforts paid off.
You received a call from the bakery where you had once worked, offering you a position. Excitement and relief flooded through you as you accepted the job. It was a familiar place,
The first day back at the bakery was filled with a mix of nervousness and anticipation. As you stepped through the familiar doors, the scent of freshly baked bread enveloped you. The warm smiles and greetings from your former colleagues made you feel instantly welcome, as if you had never left.
You returned to your old position as a waitress and memories of Gojo lingered in the back of your mind. It had been a while since you had seen him, and you had made peace with the fact that he no longer wanted anything to do with you.
You let out a sigh as you walked over to the table where some guests were seated. Taking their orders, you jotted them down on a small notepad and headed towards the counter to place it.
As you turned around, the door opened, and there stood Gojo Satoru, looking as charming as ever. His eyes scanned the room until they landed on you, and a smile instantly spread across his face. He waved at you, and for a moment, your heart skipped a beat.
Beside Gojo stood a breathtakingly beautiful woman, exuding confidence and radiating charm. It was clear why Gojo was drawn to her, and you couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy.
With a polite smile, you excused yourself and walked away, seeking solace in the different side of the bakery. Your heart raced as you tried to process the unexpected encounter. The memories of your past relationship flooded back, bringing with them a whirlwind of emotions.
In the safety of the different side, away from prying eyes, you took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart.
As you continued your work, serving customers and attending to their needs, you found solace in the routine. The hustle and bustle of the bakery provided a distraction, allowing you to momentarily forget the turmoil that Gojo’s presence had stirred within you.
But deep down, you knew that healing would take time. The wounds were still fresh, and seeing Gojo with someone new had reopened them. Yet, you refused to let it define you.
As you stood behind the counter, your eyes scanned the room, searching for any customer in need of your assistance. However, it seemed that everyone was content, engrossed in their conversations and meals. Your gaze involuntarily shifted towards the table where Gojo sat with his new girlfriend.
You couldn’t help but observe the way Gojo’s eyes sparkled with adoration as he looked at her. The way his face lit up with a blush whenever she smiled at him was a sight you had never witnessed before. It was as if he saw her as a goddess, someone worthy of his utmost devotion and affection.
A pang of jealousy washed over you as you compared Gojo’s current demeanor with how he had looked at you in the past. His eyes had never held that same lovesick gaze when he was with you. It was a bitter realization that he had never regarded you in the same way he now regarded this new woman.
You couldn’t help but wonder what it was about her that captivated Gojo so completely. Was it her radiant smile, her confident aura, or perhaps something deeper that you couldn’t comprehend? Whatever it was, it was clear that Gojo had found someone who made his heart race and his eyes shine with love.
As you continued to observe them from a distance, a mix of emotions swirled within you. Part of you longed for Gojo to look at you with the same intensity, to make you feel like the center of his universe. But another part of you knew that it was time to let go, to accept that Gojo had moved on and found happiness elsewhere.
With a heavy sigh, you turned your attention back to your duties, reminding yourself that your worth was not defined by Gojo’s affections.
You carefully balanced the two deserts and the cup of hot chocolate on your tray, making sure everything was secure. Lost in your thoughts, you absentmindedly glanced at the table number where this order was meant to be served. Without looking up, you started walking towards the designated table, unaware of the impending collision.
Just as you were about to lift your gaze, your body collided with someone, causing your grip on the tray to loosen. The board slipped from your hands, and the cup of hot chocolate tumbled through the air, its contents splattering onto the person you had unintentionally crashed into.
Your eyes widened in shock, and panic surged through your veins as you realized the gravity of the situation. You quickly raised your gaze, meeting the eyes of the person you had accidentally drenched with hot chocolate. And in that moment, your whole world seemed to crumble around you.
It was her. The woman for whom Gojo had left you. The same woman who had stolen his heart and shattered yours in the process. The sight of her standing before you, her face contorted in pain as tears streamed down her cheeks, was like a knife to your heart.
She hissed in pain as the scalding hot chocolate made contact with her skin, desperately trying to wipe away the sticky liquid that clung to her. Your hands trembled as you reached for tissues from a nearby table, desperately attempting to alleviate the discomfort you had caused.
But just as you were about to wipe away the hot chocolate, a forceful hand slapped yours away, taking over the task of cleaning the girl's skin. Startled, you looked up and saw Gojo, his face contorted with fury. His eyebrows knitted together as he witnessed the tears streaming down the girl's face, his protective instincts kicking in.
You stood there, next to Gojo, your voice barely audible as you muttered apologies, trying to explain that it was an accident. But Gojo's anger seemed to drown out your words. He finished wiping away the hot chocolate from the girl's skin and pulled her into his arms, shielding her from any further harm. His gaze shifted towards you, his eyes filled with a mix of disappointment and rage.
"Why would you do that?!" he shouted, his voice echoing through the air. His words pierced through your heart, intensifying the guilt that already weighed heavily upon you. You could see the hurt in his eyes, the pain of betrayal mingling with the anger. But you couldn't find the words to defend yourself, knowing deep down that there was no justification for your actions.
„It was an accident-“
He took a deep breath,"Save it, I know why you did it.“
„Just because I found someone else and that I’m happy with them doesn’t mean that you’ll get to hurt them out of jealousy!“ he spoke
„I thought you were better than that," he said. The girl, still in his arms, chimed in, her voice filled with anger. "Call your manager, you need to be fired!"
Gojo's gaze shifted back to you, his eyes searching for an explanation. The weight of his disappointment and the girl's demand for your termination bore down on you. Panic set in as you realized the implications of losing your job. You couldn't afford to be fired; you needed the money to support yourself.
Desperation filled your voice as you pleaded with Gojo, "Please, don't ask for my manager. It was just an accident. I need this job, I can't afford to lose it." Tears welled up in your eyes as you tried to convey the sincerity of your plea. You knew you had made a mistake, but it was one born out of carelessness, not malice.
You instinctively grabbed Gojos' hand,“Please-!“ you begged, but your hand only got slapped away by the woman in his arms.
„And now you go touching someone’s boyfriend? What‘s wrong with you!“ the girl shouted as she slapped you.
Your head turned to the side from the force of the slap, a surge of pain radiated through your cheek. The impact left your skin hot and flushed, a visible mark of the humiliation you felt. You fought back tears, determined not to let them see your vulnerability.
With trembling hands, you gently placed your palm against your reddened cheek, trying to soothe the pain. Your eyes flickered towards the girl, searching for any sign of remorse or understanding, but all you saw was a cold, dismissive gaze. Her arms crossed defiantly, she demanded that you call for the manager, her voice dripping with disdain.
„Call the manager.“
Desperation welled up within you, and you mustered the courage to speak, your voice quivering with a mix of fear and desperation. "Wait, please! I... I really need this job," you pleaded, hoping that she would see reason, that she would understand the dire circumstances that led you to this moment.
She cut you off, her words sharp and dismissive. "I don't care, call for your manager," she interrupted, her tone leaving no room for negotiation or empathy.
Your gaze shifted towards Gojo, silently pleading for his intervention, for him to vouch for you or at least offer some support. But as you looked into his eyes, you saw a furrowed brow and a hint of disappointment. His voice, barely above a whisper, carried a weight of disbelief and disapproval. "Can't believe you would pull something like that," he murmured, his words landing like a heavy blow to your already wounded heart.
Your hand, still trembling, fell from your cheek as you straighten your posture. With a deep breath, you mustered the strength to bow,
"I'll get t-the manager right away," you said,
With a heavy heart, you turned away from Gojo and the girl, making your way towards the counter to call for the manager.
Your hands trembled slightly as you picked up the phone, dialing the number with shaky fingers. Each ring felt like an eternity, amplifying the anxiety that coursed through your veins. Finally, a voice answered on the other end, and you took a deep breath, trying to steady your voice.
"Hello- this is Y/n L/n from [Bakery]. I... I need to speak with the manager, please," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. The person on the other end assured you that they would connect you, and you waited anxiously, your heart pounding in your chest.
As you waited, your mind raced with thoughts of the consequences that awaited you. Losing this job would mean losing your only source of income, and the financial strain it would bring was overwhelming. You couldn't bear the thought of disappointing your loved ones or struggling to make ends meet.
Finally, the manager's voice came through the line, and you mustered up the courage to explain the situation. You recounted the accident, your sincere apologies, and the girl's demand for your termination. The manager listened attentively, their voice calm and composed as they absorbed the details.
After a brief pause, the manager spoke, their tone firm yet compassionate. "I will come over to assess the situation and speak with all parties involved. Please remain calm and await my arrival."
You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves as you hung up the phone.
As you turned around, you noticed Gojo and the girl engaged in a hushed conversation. Their expressions were still filled with anger and disappointment, but there was also a hint of uncertainty. You approached them cautiously, your eyes downcast.
"I've c-called the manager," you said softly,"They will be here soon to address the situation. I... I'm truly sorry for what happened. It was never my intention to cause any harm or distress."
„Sure“ the girl replied.
-
Months had passed since that fateful encounter at the café. You had lost your job, the incident with Gojo and the girl tarnishing your reputation and leading to your dismissal. Now, you found yourself standing by the reception desk of another run-down motel, desperately seeking a place to stay for the night because you got kicked out of the last one.
As you approached the receptionist, a tired-looking man with a permanent scowl on his face, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of anxiety.
“Excuse me,” you began, your voice wavering slightly. “I was wondering if you have any available rooms for tonight?”
The receptionist glanced up from his paperwork, his eyes narrowing as he took in your disheveled appearance. His tone was curt as he replied, “We do have a few rooms left, but I’ll need payment upfront.”
Your heart sank. You had been scraping by, barely making ends meet, and the little money you had left was barely enough to cover your basic necessities.
“I… I’m sorry,” you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t have enough money to pay for a room.”
The receptionist’s scowl deepened, his impatience evident. “Look, we can’t just give away rooms for free. If you can’t pay, then I suggest you find somewhere else to go.”
Tears welled up in your eyes as you realized the gravity of the situation. You were alone, with nowhere to turn and no one to rely on. The weight of your mistakes and the consequences they had brought upon you felt suffocating.
With a heavy heart, you turned away from the reception desk, feeling the eyes of the other guests in the lobby on you, judging and pitying your predicament. As you walked towards the exit, a mix of shame and desperation washed over you, threatening to consume your spirit.
Outside, the cold night air greeted you, a stark reminder of your current reality. You stood on the sidewalk, feeling lost and defeated. The world seemed to blur around you as you pondered your next move, wondering how you had ended up in this dire situation.
Suddenly, a voice chimed in from behind, jolting you out of your thoughts. Startled, you turned around to find yourself face to face with Geto, your ex's best friend. His black eyes bore into yours, his raised eyebrows conveying curiosity and surprise. His gaze drifted to the suitcase clutched tightly in your hand, a silent question hanging in the air.
"Geto?" you questioned, your voice tinged with confusion.
A puff of smoke escaped his lips as he exhaled the cigarette between his fingers,"How many times do I have to tell you, you can call me Suguru," he replied,
“Why are you here?” he asked, standing before you and peering into your eyes. But before you could answer, another question slipped from his lips, catching you off guard. “Where is Satoru?”
The realization hit you like a punch to the gut. He didn’t know. How could he not know? Wasn’t he Satoru’s best friend? Shouldn’t he have been informed about the breakup that had occurred just last month? Did Gojo, your ex, not bother to share the news with him?
“Didn’t Satoru tell you?” you asked, breaking eye contact with him, unable to bear his gaze any longer.
“Tell me what?” he questioned. He removed the cigarette from his lips and threw it to the ground, crushing it under his shoe.
“That we broke up,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. As you watched his reaction, you noticed a flicker of surprise in his eyes before he regained his composure.
“You two broke up..?” he questioned,“Since when did you-”
“Last month we broke up,” you interrupted,
“Is there any reason why you two broke up? Everything was good, wasn’t it?” As he placed a comforting hand on your shoulder.
“He…” you hesitated, your gaze shifting to the side. “He found someone else,” you admitted, your lips trembling slightly.
“Oh,” he responded, his hand retracting from your shoulder as he crossed his arms over his chest. His eyes turned towards the night sky, lost in his own thoughts, before refocusing on you. “And why are you here in the middle of the night?” he asked, his gaze scanning you from head to toe, taking in your worn-out clothes. His eyes returned to your face.
“I got kicked out of the motel because I couldn’t pay for it anymore,” you replied,
His brows furrowed,"I'm so sorry to hear that," he said softly,"You shouldn't have to go through this alone."
Without hesitation, he reached out and gently placed a hand on your shoulder. "Listen, I have an idea," he said,"Why don't you come stay with me until you find a job and get back on your feet?"
Surprised by his offer, you looked at him,"I- I can‘t do that-!" you spoke.
A warm smile spread across his face. "Of course you can," he replied. "I have a spare room and it would be my pleasure to help you out. Sometimes, all we need is a little support to get back on track."
„But-!“
„No buts.“
"Thank you," you whispered, "I don't know what to say..."
He smiled warmly, his eyes sparkling,"No need to thank me," he insisted. "We all go through tough times, and sometimes we just need a helping hand. If there's anything else I can do, please don't hesitate to ask."
He took the suitcase from your hand and turned around, walking towards his house. "Let's go," he said, looking back at you.
You nodded and followed after him.
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cosmosis · 9 months
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MOVED TO @seratopia
miguel o’hara x reader (fluff) - can’t sleep
you just can’t sleep without your husband next to you (i hope my spanish was okay)
Maybe it’s your cycle, maybe its just the fact that you’ve been literally working all day for the past 3 weeks, but you’re tired as shit. The bags under your eyes are almost purple, your entire body hunches over like a zombie when you walk, you barely have time to think nor speak to anyone else besides your husband. The entire building is lowkey worried you’ll snap one day. 
Even Miguel is worried. Much how you like to do to him, Miguel’s been constantly ushering you to rest a little, borderline bribing you with nice takeout or some kisses to get you to sleep. But, to no avail. your sleep schedule is genuinely fucked. 
You’re cranky, hungry, and sleep deprived. 
At the moment, Miguel doesn’t really know where you are. Considering your current state, he thinks you’re out on a mission, or at least somewhere in the office. 
He’s already tried walking through the entire office just looking for you. He checked the cafeteria, gym, hallway, etc. muttering, “Where th’fuck are they?” But, you were nowhere to be found.
So, Miguel tries something different. He pulls up his watch, scrolling down to a button that he really only should be using for emergencies, but to Miguel, this is an emergency on its’ own. 
He presses the button, and suddenly his entire face is broadcasted to every single watch in the building. Dramatically, the emergency siren turns on, and all the spider-people are on their feet. 
“If anyone sees my wife, please report back to me asap. Tell her to come see me, I can’t find her anywhere.“
The whole office can see Miguel rub a hand over his face, visibly both annoyed and tired. Everyone starts looking back and forth, tilting heads and making sure that you didn’t just happen to be around somewhere. Once the camera turns off, though, nearly the entire building starts chuckling. 
It’s crazy how much Miguel’s face utterly lights up when he sees his watch ringing without your contact photo. Literally in a split second, he presses the button, opening up a microphone icon. 
“Miguel?“
Ugh, he just loves the sound of your voice. 
“¿Si querida?“
He hears you groan, possibly the sound of bedsheets shuffling, and it pulls at his heart. You’ve been so miserable lately, he just wants to see you back to your happy self again. 
“Come home, now.“
Just the tone of your voice alone put a worried frown on Miguel’s face. (He never likes to admit how much of an impact your emotions have on him.) An ugly, anxious swarm starts to build at the back of his head, making him impossibly nervous. 
Luckily, Miguel knows what to do. 
“Of course, hun. I’ll be there in 10.“
And he turns the watch off, sighing to himself after. He’s a little bit nervous now, fearing as though he did something to upset you, or that you had something serious to talk about when he came home. 
Every step Miguel takes to your shared home brought him closer and closer on edge, worry and theory swirling through his mind. His brain ping-ponged through every single possible reason why you’d want him to come home, especially in such a cranky matter. Maybe you were just tired? Maybe it was because he accidentally gave you a raisin bagel instead of a everything bagel?
By the time Miguel was at the door, his heart was beating erratically in his chest, hands the slightest bit shaky. Stepping inside, Miguel instantly beelined for your shared bedroom, gently opening the door. 
He sees you shuffle around in the covers, his heart secretly swooning. You’re just so cute when you’re half asleep; needy and cuddlier than usual. Already at the bedroom door, Miguel practically rips his shirt off, kicking off his pants and making his way over to where you lay. He presses a soft kiss to your forehead, gingerly swiping strands of hair off your face. 
“What is it, hun?“ He coos.
You toss and turn, barely mustering a frown onto your face. Your eyes are half-lidded, tank top almost falling off your shoulder until Miguel readjusts it for you. 
“Can’t sleep without you.“ You mumble, slowly scooting yourself over and draping your arms towards him. Miguel practically swoons, cooing and leaning into your touch. How could he resist such an offer?
“Awh, baby.“ 
He tangles himself into bed with you, breathing the biggest sigh of relief. It wasn’t what he thought it was. You just wanted snuggles. Miguel takes it upon himself to spoil you extra, ghosting his touch over your back and kissing the darling skin of your temple.
Like the thousands of times he has before, Miguel tangles his legs into yours, kneading his fingers into the skin of your raised leg.  
Within a few minutes or so, Miguel feels you knock out like a light, tiny puffs of air escaping your mouth while you fist the sheets like a baby. He sighs, staring at you for a few moments while you sleep. Affectionately, he rubs his knuckles against your cheek, smooching your forehead. 
Miguel pulls a blanket over the both of you, knowing very well that by the time you’re awake, it’ll be completely on the floor. Readjusting his position, Miguel doses off to sleep, allowing himself to completely let go of all the stresses he holds. 
After all, he can’t sleep without you either. 
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© 𝒄𝒐𝒔𝒎𝒐𝒔𝒊𝒔.
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kumori-suwan · 4 months
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Batboys Arranged Marriage Series (Part 2): When They Try to Apologize but You Have Another Idea
Featuring: Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, and Damian Wayne
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dick Grayson
He’d said so much in just a few cruel words and now he had to live with the guilt of your broken heart. In the span of a few weeks after the fight you’d changed all because of him. Your eyes no longer glowed at the sight of him, you didn’t seem shy or nervous anymore, you hardly even acknowledge him. It was his fault he knew that but the worst part of all was the way you were slowly taking yourself out of the picture, you picked up a new shift at work, an early morning one that kept you well over twelve hours. Dick would wake up to an empty apartment and would leave an empty apartment by the time patrol started. You became a ghost in your shared home, the only evidence of you being home was your shoes at the door or dishes in the sink.
“She’s pulling away from me…I messed up. I royally screwed this up.”, Dick sighed, running his fingers through his raven locks.
Ever since the fight he decided to break things off with Kori, your words had struck a chord in his heart and the wheels in his head finally started to turn. He realized that he was the cause of your misery and reflected on it, he wanted to change and be better for you but how could he if you avoided him like the plague. You were a human, a woman with a big heart that just wanted to love and be loved.
‘I’m trying to be worthy…it’s not fair that I’m the only one putting in effort…I have to beg to go out on a date…-‘
Your words and tears had become ingrained into his mind, forcing him to continually remember the pain he’s caused you. Ideas and thoughts floated around in his brain, trying to think of the best plan of action to apologize and make things right between you two.
“A date…a date should be a good start.”, he thought aloud.
Dawning his Nightwing uniform he waited patiently for you to come home, according to the ring camera you always arrived home at about 12:40 in the morning. He waited patiently for you to arrive, the pamphlet for a fancy restaurant you’d mentioned to Bruce a few weeks ago now sitting in his hands. His eyes softened to the sight of your photo hanging up on the wall, a smile so genuine and bright making you glow in the frame. He wanted to be the reason you smiled like that…he just hoped that it wasn’t to late to fix his mistake and take back what he said. The lock to the front door clicked open as you walked in from another grueling twelve hour shift.
Your eyes were sunken in from the lack of sleep, your cheeks flushed red with a fever, and your skin pale from lack of self care. “(Y/n)?”, a quiet voice called to you.
You looked up, the blurry image of black and blue hazy before your eyes. “What are you doing here?”, you sighed, rubbing the sleep from your tired eyes.
He wants to say so much, hiding the pamphlet behind his back as he tries to center himself. How could a woman so tired and angry seem so beautiful in his eyes, he wanted to spoil you…hold you in his arms and let you rest. When he doesn’t offer you an answer you decide that he only wants to fight and opt to fleeing back to your room.
“W-Wait! Wait look about the fight, I’m sorry. I-I shouldn’t have done it…I just…just I don’t know. I don’t want to fight anymore. I wanna put my half into this relationship if you’ll still let me.”, he stutters every few words but he hopes you understand what he’s trying to say.
You scoff, unknowingly shattering any hope of reconciliation between you two. You’re body is aching and tired, you’re ready to collapse from the growing fever you’ve been ignoring the past couple of days. Without skipping a beat you turn and stare Dick right in the eyes, the few feet separating you seeming so much farther than it really is when you say, “No need. I’m breaking off the engagement.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jason Todd
While he slabs the drywall mud over the patch Jason can only remember the intense fear in your eyes as he raised his fist to you. Lost in his rage he never thought to hurt you but even still he made you scared of him, so scared that you decided to run back home to your cruel family without so much as saying goodbye. It’s been less that forty-eight hours and Jason is on edge, he wants to go out and look for you but he can’t bare to see that look on your face again if he does.
“Why am I such a fuck up?”, he sighs.
He stares at the wall admiring his patch job before looking down at his bandaged hands, that night he did indeed clean his own wounds just like you’d said. His cheek still stung from the strong open handed slap you’d striked across his face for what he’d done to you, but the pain under the bandages seemed to hurt more than usual. Before you, he always had to clean his own wounds but then you arrived and you took care of it for him, your soft gentle touch always putting him at ease and making him feel better.
He sighed and plopped onto the couch out of frustration, “Why’d I get mad at her like that? Why’d I say anything about the mission to her, it’s hard to play someone when you’ve actually fallen in love with them.”, Jason groans to himself finally admitting his feelings for you.
Jason was a broken man even before his first death, nothing changed about that after he was revived but Bruce thought that having someone like you would be the perfect idea. In a way he wasn’t wrong, Jason had grown to love you in the few months you two had been together. Nobody cared for him the way you did, nobody worried for him and nobody listened to him like you did. That’s why this separation hurts so much, he lied in his fit of rage and unveiled the true reason you two were arranged together.
“That was a secret I wanted to take to the grave with me, I wanted to marry that woman and never let her go. Now I won’t even be able to apologize…(Y/n) please come back home.”, Jason sighed.
“I’m back!”
Just the sound of your cheerful voice was enough to make his heart skip a beat, he stood up straight and turned to see you taking off your shoes at the door in a business suit.
“(Y/n)…wh-where have you been? Why’re you dressed like that?”, Jason asked.
Within a few short strides he was in front of you yet again but this time your eyes didn’t show fear, no there was something indifferent and cold about them despite the smile on your face. You shooed him away asking him to sit down at the table, he offered you some food instead so that you could sit down and relax. At the stove he felt something unsettling building in the pit of his stomach, he didn’t like how you were acting but he chalked it up to being the after effect of the fight.
“Here Hun…umm about the fight…I’m sorry I never should’ve done what I did to you and I know it’s to late to take back what I said but I do love you. I really do I swear I just-“
Jason stopped when you raised a hand up, he stayed quiet waiting for what you had to say. You pulled out a manila envelope from your bag and slid it towards him with a gleeful smile.
“This is all the evidence of my father’s misdeeds and illegal transactions between the company and a gang he’s been sponsoring. The gang will be trafficking high tech weapons through Gotham for the black market community here and one particular item is listed as a planet destroyer. This is everything you needed from me right?”, you giggled, Jason’s blood ran cold.
In the matter of hours you accomplished his goal, everything Bruce needed was right here in front of him but he didn’t want it…not when he knew what you were about to do next.
“(Y/n)…b-baby please don’t do this. I’m sorry okay? I won’t take this if it means you will-“
“That I’ll leave you and call off the engagement? It’s a little to late for that. Gift giving and quality time is my love language, consider this my final gift I’ll ever give you.”, you stood up from the table returning to the front door to leave, “Goodbye Jason thanks for loving me…even if it was all just a lie.”
You left without even looking back at him, Jason was stupidly glued to his seat from shock and guilt. His metallic blue eyes hyperfocused on the engagement ring you’d left behind on the table. He couldn’t believe that you were gone and it was all his fault.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tim Drake
‘-reflect on your behavior while I’m gone!’
Your behavior wasn’t the problem, your fiancé was the problem! Ignoring you, choosing others over you, overworking while you stupidly waited for him at home, not keeping even the simplest of promises! Normal people would’ve already left or cheated on people like him, Tim gaslights you and manipulates the situation so that you’re the problem and you’re tired of that! If he didn’t love you there was no point staying in this stupid miserable relationship!
Little did you know that Cassie had ripped him a new one after finding out he’d forgotten your birthday. Tim felt horrible when he realized what day it was, the reminder on his calendar had been overlooked due to the rest of his work schedule on the same day. He buried his face in his hands in shame, he argued with you and forgotten your birthday! Now he understood why you were all dressed up and your outburst.
“Sorry Cassie I’ve gotta go home and fix this.”, Tim whispers, recalling the heartbreak in your eyes before he left.
He’s been treating you terribly lately, it was unforgivable but you were always so sweet and always forgave him. He could only hope you’d be lenient this time like always.
“(Y/n)? Hey sweetie I’m back. I’m sorry about earlier I just-“, Tim’s voice fell silent when he noticed how destroyed the apartment had become.
At first he panicked, fearing that you’d been robbed or worse hurt but he soon found you unconscious on the couch with a bottle of expensive alcohol emptied next to you. Never had Tim seen you drink or drunk if he was being honest, he noticed your knuckles cut and bleeding as you slept on the couch. He felt worse about what he’d done to you, if he was so smart how come he couldn’t tell that you were breaking?
“(Y/n), hey baby…c’mon wake up. Let’s get you to bed.”, he begged softly, lifting you up into his arms bridal style. He’d clean up the mess from your outrage while you slept.
You woke up a bit, lost in your drunken haze and sadness as you stared up at him.
“Oh hey Conner~ wh-when did you…you get here?”, you giggled, unable to recognize the hazy image of your fiancé.
Hearing you call his best friend’s name made a pit form in his stomach, had you confided in Conner about your relationship issues? Tim settled you into the bed and listened to your drunken rambling, “Y’know he forgot about me again. I wish I was sadder about it…hic…h-honestly I’m over it Con. I think it’s time for me to end it.”, you hiccupped.
“D-Don’t end your life over this.”, Tim begged, he knew about your poor mental health but he didn’t think he’d push you to this.
You squinted your eyes, trying to focus on the inage before, “No!~ Not that you goob! I meant our engagement, it’s not working out. I’m so sad that I’m just angry plus Tim doesn’t love me. It’s for the best.”, you giggle softly, gently letting sleep take over your body again.
Hearing you say that made Tim’s stomach flip, he wasn’t sure how to deal with such a horrible thought. He couldn’t bare to think of you leaving him, he did love you! He truly did, he couldn’t bare to lose you like this! If he had to make up for it for the rest of his life he would.
“S-She’s drunk…t-that’s not how she really feels. No…no I’ll fix this I will.”, Tim promised himself, watching you curl up into fetal position on the bed mumbling to yourself. Tim was almost afraid but he had to know what you were saying, the pit in his stomach only growing larger when he heard you whisper, “No more. No Mrs. Drake.”
~~~~~~~~~~
Damian Wayne
It didn’t take a genius to understand that Damian had messed up, he held onto your ring for dear life the rest of the night and gave you space. He’d hoped by the next day you would’ve felt better, he sent your ring back to you on a tray of breakfast he had asked Alfred to make for you. The old butler gave a judgemental hum that Damian knew all to well from his youth. Much to his surprise Alfred returned to the kitchen with the food and ring just a few minutes later.
“Apologies young master, it seems Miss (Y/n) is not here at the moment. She left a note saying she was off to work.”, Alfred chuckled, handing Damian the note you’d left.
Damian read over the simple letter and panicked, were you avoiding him now after what he’d said?
“Work? She doesn’t have work. How could she be working when I never see her go out?”, Damian’s mind was reeling with questions.
He was grateful now that he’d decided to put a tracker into the necklace he’d given you as a gift, much to his surprise you were in the art district of Gotham in a fashion design company?! Damian decided it was better for him to suck up his pride and apologize to you. He sped off to your location on his motorcycle, hoping to ease your heart of any unnecessary pain he’d caused you. Within the hour he’d arrived at the building of a popular up and coming fashion design company that was known for their creative street looks. His emerald hues paid close attention to everything around him, searching the sea of faces for any sign of you.
“Excuse me, I’m here to see (F/n) Wayne.”, Damian huffed to the receptionist, annoyed at not having already found you.
The young woman smiled at him, instantly recognizing him from the papers and news.
“My apologies sir, we don’t have anyone by that name here today. Maria do you know who (F/n) is?”, she asked her fellow coworker.
The other girl glared at Damian and chuckled, “It’s (nickname), the stage designer for the next fashion show.”, Maria smiled standing up from her seat, “Come along sir, I’ll take you to her.”
Damian was shocked to hear your title in the company, he never knew you were certified to be a stage designer. That takes years of experience and education from a particular academy here in Gotham. The receptionist walked him to the Runway stage in the building and opened the door for him, “Fair warning several of us are (Y/n)’s best friends from high school and college, we already heard about the little incident last night so don’t be surprised by what she’ll say next. She deserves better.”, Maria clicked her tongue in annoyance, leaving Damian there alone.
Now Damian was really starting to feel nervous, what had your friends told you? What had you told them? He decided to walk into the stage room and was shocked to see how beautiful the runway looked thanks to you and your stage crew. The room reeked of spray paint and to his surprise the artist was you, decorating the backwall with a gorgeous street design to reflect the street wear that would be shown here.
“Can I help you? The stage area is closed to the public you shouldn’t be here.”, A male voice growled.
Damian quickly took in his surroundings and realized two employees were glaring at him, a woman with half a shaved head, and a muscled looking gym guy wearing a tight black compression shirt and drapey pants.
“I’m here to see my fiancée.”, Damian quickly huffed.
Both employees looked at each other and then Damian before the woman turned around and screamed your name. You were startled by the scream and quickly turned around to see who it was, much to your annoyance Damian was here. You put your spray paint down and hopped off stage taking off your breathing mask and leaving it at the edge of the runway.
“Go away.”, you ordered your friends, the guy frowned and glared at Damian.
“Just be careful if you need anything we’re here.”, he promised, pressing a soft peck to the top of your head, the woman following his lead and staining your cheek black with her lipstick.
The bubbly giggle that fell from your lips made Damian’s blood boil with jealousy, he wasn’t used to this side of you. You were happier, more expressive, mischievous, confident even, he wanted to see you like this all the time. Your bubbly personality instantly vanished when you finally looked up at him.
He didn’t mean to come off rude but he quickly started off with, “I thought you said you didn’t have friends?”
You glared at him, unamused and irritated by him, “I said I don’t really have that many friends, these aren’t exactly people who get invited to Galas. They’re not rish socialites that only talk business and degrade the lower class.”, you growled defending your friends from his mindset.
Damian raised his hands up as a sign that he meant no harm with his words, “Okay sorry. Look I’m just here to check on you…you weren’t home and I thought you’d still be upset about yesterday. I just want to make sure we’re okay.”, Damian explained pulling out your engagement ring in a small velvet box.
You glared at the ring, reaching out for it as if to put it back on but you hesitated, to Damian’s surprise you closed the box and took a step back.
“Last night was pretty eye opening for me, I’m nothing like you and frankly you’ve shown time and time again that you dont really like me. My sister would’ve been a better pick for you, I’m not some snobby rich heiress that wants money and a wallet for a husband to provide for me. These people and I have more in common then you and I, this is where I belong.”, you offered Damian a sad smile.
For once in his life Damian found himself suddenly anxious and worried, he knew what you’d say next but he didn’t want to hear it. He could fix this, he would swear it to you on his hands and knees if he had to.
“I…I…(Y/n) I’m sorry. Everything you said last night was very true, I’m so sorry that I hurt you like this. If I’d realized sooner I would’ve done better for you.”, Damian was quick to apologize, panic quickly filling his eyes for you to see.
You shook your head, stepping back more, “I can’t do this anymore, you won’t ever love me for me. I’m calling off the engagement, I’m sure you’ll forget me and move on fast. Goodbye Damian.”
Damian watches as you hop back onstage to finish your work, without realizing he’s in tears he quietly leaves without saying another word. The pathetic ring in his hand feeling heavy and weighing him down the farther he got from you. This felt like the biggest mistake he’d ever made.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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2K notes · View notes
twirlyleafs · 10 days
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“Matilda”
Max Verstappen x reader
TW: complicated relationship with parent and guilt but mostly fluff <3
A/N: based on the song Matilda by Harry Styles
~~~~
You can let it go, you can throw a party full of everyone you know.
“I think we should call off the party.” You said, not looking up from your plate as you continued parting your food. In your peripheral vision you could tell Max froze just as he was about to pop a piece of chicken in his mouth.
“What?”
“The engagement party. I don’t want to do it anymore.” You tried to keep your tone light, as if it didn’t really bother you when in reality you’d cried an hour about it this morning. For the past few weeks you and Max had been planning a party to celebrate getting engaged, or rather you had been supposed to. In reality you had planned it, Max avoiding the subject like the plague. Every time you asked him to sit down with you to look at something regarding it he’d suddenly been very busy and if you asked for his advice he’d just kissed you and told you it didn’t matter, that it was your choice. At first you’d been so excited about the party, not just to get to celebrate the love you shared with Max, but because you thought planning a party together would give you a hint of how planning a wedding would be. Now all it did was make you want to cry.
“Why not? I thought you were so excited?” Max placed his utensils down, frowning at you from across the table. You shrugged, moving some lettuce around on your plate.
“Yeah, but it’s fine. I think it’s best if we skip it.”
“But why?” He pressed and with a deep breath you looked up at him. Max offered the softest expression, genuine worry and confusion on his face. You forced yourself to give him a small smile.
“You don’t want to Max.” You stated simply and his face fell for a second before the frown was back. He opened his mouth to say something but obviously changed his mind, a silence settling over the table. You looked back down, poking the food around and occasionally taking a bite. It felt like forever before Max spoke up.
“I do want to.” The way he said it with a sigh had you looking up at him with furrowed brows. He shook his head when he met your gaze, obviously sensing your disbelief. “I do, I promise you baby. There’s just- I’ve been thinking about, well-“ Max didn’t seem to find the words, suddenly nervous. You reached your hand across the table, wiggling your fingers a bit. Max paused, a small smile forming on his face as he took your hand in his and leaned down to press a kiss against it.
“Tell me.” You mumbled, your thumb moving over his skin in the most comforting way you could. Max gave you a quick nod and you could tell he found it hard to express whatever it was he was about to say.
“I know we said we wanted our families and friends at the party.” He began, and you nodded. “And I do. Mostly.”
“What do you mean?” You were confused.
“You know I love my dad.” He began and it slowly dawned on you what this was about. You refrained from grimacing at the mention of Jos. The two of you had never really gotten along but that had never bothered you that much, Max had ensured you that Jos had never and would never get along with anything that took time away from racing. What made you really dislike your soon to be father in law was the way he treated his son. You’d seen Jos absolutely tear into Max for mistakes made by the team, by other drivers. You’d heard the stories from Maxs childhood, having been told the worst ones by his mother and sister since he would never share them himself. He didn’t want to put his dad in bad light, ever. Even when Jos definitely deserved it.
And not invite your family because they never showed you love.
“I know you do.” You agreed, leaving it at that. Max once again nodded softly, knowing very well how you felt about his father.
“And even though a part of me wants him there- I mean he is my dad.” Max paused again to take another deep breath, eyes fixed on your hands, before continuing. “An even bigger part of me don’t want him to come because I know he’ll either upset you or my mom or one of our friends.”
“Or you.” You added, knowing that even though Max had taught himself not to let it show when his father hurt him it affected him a great deal.
“Or me.” He agreed, quietly. “I think everything would be better if he didn’t come but I also feel this, I don’t know, intense guilt at the thought of not inviting him.” Maxs eyes shot up to stare at you the second you pulled your hand from his. He watched you stand up and for a split second he thought you were angry, but he quickly realized that you were rounding the table to come to him. Pushing his chair out he let you crawl up in his lap, his arms automatically wrapping around you. With a small pout on your face you let your hands cup his cheeks, forcing him to face you.
“Max.” You cooed, not being able to stop yourself from placing a quick but loving kiss on his lips before continuing. “You have every right in the world to invite, or not invite, whoever you want. Just because he is your father doesn’t mean he gets an automatic invite if you don’t feel like you want him here.”
“But it feels so mean.”
“He’s mean.” You stated, backtracking when you saw Maxs face drop. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. What I’m trying to say is that he put himself in a position where you’re even considering not inviting him. He did that. Not you.” You scratched your nails against his stubble, making him close his eyes momentarily. “I’ll support you no matter what you decide and I promise we will make the best of the situation whether he’s here or not. But you should only invite him if you actually want him here, not because you feel obligated. Loving someone doesn’t mean bending over backwards for them.” When Max opened his eyes again he immediately met your gaze and you could tell your words were slowly resonating within him.
“I don’t think I want him here.” You rarely heard Max be so vulnerable and it made your heart both hurt and swell with pride. He was standing up for himself.
“And you don’t have to be sorry for that. You don’t need to list anymore reasons other than the fact that you simply don’t want to.” You let your hands wander down his jaw and to the back of his neck, fingers threading through his hair. Max nodded slowly and even though you could tell he wasn’t quite there yet, he was one step closer to standing up for himself. You tilted your head, offering a soft smile. “You don’t have to decide anything right now Maxie, we can take some time.” Max couldn’t help but smile back, leaning down to kiss you.
You don’t have to be sorry for leaving and growing up.
“Thank you.” He mumbled, lips still pressed against yours. You felt his arms tightening around you and you let your head fall to his shoulder. Max let out a deep breath. “I’m sorry I’ve been stressing you out lately.”
“You always stress me out.” You joked, earning a soft laugh and fingers pressing into your side. You grinned and pecked his neck a few times, being the only thing you could reach while staying as comfortable as you were. “No but seriously Max, don’t worry about it. I get it. Just know that you can always talk to me about these things, about anything.”
“I know.” He whispered against your head and you smiled. Marrying Max would be the best decision of your life, you were sure of it.
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brabblesblog · 3 months
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Sounds like a plan.
Drabble set right after act II’s confession scene. What if Tav didn’t feel quite alright with Astarion’s manipulation, and tried to just go along with it for his sake?
Angst with a happy ending. Also a tiny bit of Gale. Enjoy!
Read on AO3.
Masterlist.
He starts to notice when you stop smiling at him.
Oh, you'd smirk and laugh when talking to him, but that wasn't it - you just didn't smile.
That one he'd craved so much to see, the one that made your eyes crinkle and your nose flare a little. That smile. He hadn't seen it since the night he confessed his feelings to you.
He’d worry about it more, if you two didn’t spend every waking moment together. If you didn’t move into his tent. Didn’t cuddle with him every night, and woke up tangled in his arms every dawn.
So he put it aside for now. Your relationship was a new and fragile thing, and he dared not risk it.
That is, until he noticed you smiling like that with Gale. Astarion had just been walking back to camp from a hunt, when he had heard your voice and Gale’s and had inadvertently began to eavesdrop.
You had been sitting by the campfire with the wizard, reading one of those raunchy romance novels Shadowheart had given you. The two of you were huddled close together, knees touching, chortling and snorting as you read the passages aloud.
“I don’t think elves have… appendages of that size,” Gale remarks after a particularly salacious line. “Would they?” He shoots you a particularly nasty smirk.
You laugh, all pretense thrown aside. “I haven’t seen enough elf cock to know,” you mumble. “Or any other type of cock, for that matter.”
Gale chuckles. “You’ve been sleeping with one, have you not?” There is a small note of sadness in Gale’s voice when he says this, and you note it. You had turned the wizard down for Astarion.
The laugh that was about to come out of you dies at Gale’s words. You remember sleeping with Astarion, remember how your relationship started, how-
You shake your head, trying to clear out those thoughts. You want to just have fun right now, not think about your complicated situation. Gale notices, and he closes the spicy book. He looks to you, those large eyes holding nothing but affection and concern for you.
“Is something the matter? Anything you need, I’ll be there,” he reminds. He may not be your partner, but he’s still one of your closest friends in camp.
“Actually.” You weigh your options. No one seemed to be here at camp, and so you decide to confide in your friend. “Yes. There.. there is a problem. With.. with Astarion and I.”
Astarion initially rolls his eyes as he hears this conversation. It’s just banter, and he doesn’t mind. What made him stay there and listen in for a moment was the sound of your laughter. It was so genuine and he had not heard it in what felt like forever. He felt a pang of jealousy that of all people, Gale had been the one to bring it out of you. As he prepared to go back to your shared tent, he finally heard you mention his name. He froze, immediately rooted to the spot by fear. He had to know what was wrong. He had to fix it before you left him.
Gale puts a comforting hand on your knee. “Then I will lend you my ears. I shall keep your confidence.”
“It’s- it’s hard to explain,” you begin, speaking gently. “Does it make sense if I say I understand why he would do something he did, but it hurts anyways?”
“More than you know,” Gale replies somberly. “You understand their reasons. Sympathize, even. But you can’t help how you feel.” He pauses, considering it. “Does he know?”
“No.” You shake your head, answering without hesitation. “I didn’t want to give him more things to worry about. He..”
He already has too many things on his plate, you figured, and your petty little issues are nothing compared to what he’s going through.
Gale nods. “And you didn’t want to burden him. I understand.” He clears his throat. “I’m not a good choice for advice regarding relationships, however- it’s common knowledge that hiding things from each other so early on is a portent for disaster. I hope you know that.”
“I know, Gale,” you say, your tone sharpening. Then you let out a sigh, forcing yourself to calm down. “I just don’t want to hurt him any more than he’s already been hurt. I can’t hate him for what he did to me, but I want to hate him for how much it hurts.”
Your voice breaks at the last moment, and you bury yourself in Gale’s shoulder. He wraps a comforting arm around you, letting you finally let out those feelings you’ve been bottling in.
“I thought,” you gasp, “that he’d finally be the one person to actually want me for me.”
Astarion, hidden in the periphery of the camp, sees and hears everything. He keeps silent, as his own heart rips at the sound of your sobbing. Of course. How could he have been so blind? How could he have just assumed you were okay with what he did? After his confession, you had said everything was okay, and he had taken it at face value.
Gods damned it, Astarion thinks. As the conversation dies and you gradually shift to just sobbing into Gale’s shoulder, Astarion slips away.
You head back to your shared tent and hour or so later, opening the flaps. To your surprise, your lover sits there. He snaps upwards the moment your face pokes in, as if he had been waiting for just that exact moment.
“You’re back early,” you say, slipping in and closing the flap behind you. You drop to your knees and crawl towards the bedroll beside him, exhausted.
“Caught a boar quite early on. I daresay I got a bit lucky,” is the reply, delivered in a tone that just sounded off to your ears. He moves to wrap an arm around you, pulling you close to him. “And you, darling? Catching up with the wizard?” He tries to go for nonchalant, and absolutely fails it.
You notice it then, the way he’s actually not even breathing. The way his chest is stiff as a board, the way his fingers tremble.
“Astarion,” you squeeze your eyes shut. “You heard.”
“Every word,” he says, a pained sigh escaping his lips. His arm stops pulling you close. You turn to face him, and you see his face, more pained than you have ever seen him before. When he had confessed, he looked frightened. This time he looked resigned. You watch him clench his jaw, preparing to say the words he knew he should say.
Astarion takes a small, sharp breath. He meets your gaze.
“I hurt you.” The statement is quiet, emotionless. “You shouldn’t have told me you were okay, darling. You should have let me know.” His jaw works again, and he struggles to say the next words.
“I’ve put your things in your pack. You can leave whenever you wish.”
He tries not to cry. Not to beg for you to stay. Because you deserve to go. You deserve real, and if you can’t be real with him, then he isn’t the one who deserves you. Swallowing, his hand caresses your cheek. “I am sorry.”
Sorry he can’t give you what you deserve. Sorry he hurt you. Sorry he was what he was.
You sit up. You try to see what he’s thinking, to see if this relationship still had anything to salvage. But here in the dark, it’s very hard to tell. You brace yourself; the thing missing here was communication, and you’ll be damned if you don’t try to do just that before it all blows up.
“Do you want this, Astarion? Us?”
A quick, quiet hiss of pain breaks the silence. His eyes brighten, filling up with tears. They don’t fall just yet.
“Yes. Gods, yes.”
Your own shoulders drop, and you exhale.
“Then I’m going nowhere. But I suppose we should talk about what you overheard.”
He exhales, relief flooding his features. The guardedness isn’t quite gone yet, however. He makes no move to close the gap. Instead he sits up, matching your position.
“What else is there to say? I manipulated you. You felt a lot less gracious about it than you originally thought. Seems about the sum of it, no?”
There is a little defensiveness there. As if he’s already building walls in the event of your departure.
“Somewhat, but not quite.” You clear your throat. “I don’t blame you. I’m not upset at you. Or resentful. Or whatever else you think I am. Before anything else, I want you to know that.”
His eyes widen, surprised. He had overheard the conversation; he should have known this. But hearing it so directly said was different. You can see his shoulders sag as the tension leaves his body, as that terrible knot in his heart starts to loosen. He nods, acknowledging your statement and an encouragement to continue.
“I’m just hurt.” That was the root of all of it, really. “I’m hurt, but I didn’t want you to know. You already suffer so much, that it felt…” you trail off, trying to find the words.
“Frivolous, darling?” He suggests. As you nod he continues. “Just because I’m going through things doesn’t mean there’s no space… for your feelings,” he begins tentatively. He takes one more small breath, then reaches across to take your hand, just like he did that night he confessed.
“I’ve spent two hundred years carrying my own burdens. You have shared my load. Please. Let me lighten yours too.”
You scan his face, on instinct, trying to see any signs of insincerity. There is none. His eyes are round and open, and his hand remains on yours, palm up, an invitation for you to come to him.
You choke back tears, leaning forward to touch your foreheads together. “It’s just that I wished you were.. that we started differently. That you wanted me..”
“For you,” he says, repeating what you said to Gale. “I know. And I might not have, at the start. I might have seen you as a means to an end.”
He gathers his courage and moves to wrap his arms around you. “But now I do,” he whispers against your ear. “I want you for you.”
You melt into his arms then, moulding yourself to his torso as you cry yet again. But unlike your tears when talking to Gale, this feels like relief. Like home.
He shushes you, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “You said you aren’t upset at all. But you can. We can..” he thinks for a moment, then proceeds. “We can take some time apart, if that’s what you want. We can take a step back and see if we can end up back here again.”
Saying that felt like torture for him. But he knew it needed to be said. You needed to have that option.
You shake your head. “No. I’m- I would very much rather be in this, whatever this is,” you say with a teary laugh. “But you’re right. I think I’ll still need some time to go through it and accept everything.”
“Just don’t forget, Astarion. It’s not your fault. It’s not,” you say vehemently. “I’m just hurt, but I’m not holding you responsible.”
He wants to protest, but knows better than to. Instead he nods. Carefully he cups your face in his hands, and you shiver as his cool palms make contact with your wet cheeks.
He kisses the tears away, each kiss a soft, feather-light brush against your skin.
“Thank you,” he murmurs. For your kindness. For your forgiveness and grace. For your love, although he couldn’t even use that word yet, even to himself. For the gift of yourself, always so generously given, from the very start.
He wishes he could someday live up to your love. That he would be worth everything you give him. He tries to voice this out.
“If you’re staying, then… it gives me a challenge, mm?” He tries to smile. “I’ll try to be worth the trouble. But no promises, darling.”
You huff out a laugh. This beautiful, strong, insufferable man. How could he think he wasn’t worth it to you? But you understood. You felt the same way.
“I’ll hold you to that,” you say. “As for me, well. I don’t imagine I’ll ever be worth all that, either.”
“Then we’ll be worthless together,” he says without missing a beat. If you only knew how special he thought you were. How worthy. How you make him want to be better.
He presses his lips to yours, finally. Sealing your words together. A promise for you two to share each other’s burdens. Together.
“Sounds like a plan,” you agree.
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gh0stsp1d3r · 1 month
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Hey hey!! I hope you're doing well! I was wondering if you could do a fic based on the song "Kisses Of Fire" by Abba just like the reader in total love-sick bliss and knowing like Luke is the man he's him lolol
𝒦𝒾𝓈𝓈ℯ𝓈 ℴ𝒻 𝒻𝒾𝓇ℯ
𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
A/n- I adore you for this anon. I love abba
Warnings- brief make out sessions, puppy love, foreshadowing his betrayal, pre!tlt Luke, their loves bordering on obsession but they genuinely still love each other if that makes sense
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Lay your head on my chest so you hear every beat of my heart, now there’s nothing that can keep us apart
He held you closely, your head laying on his chest as you listened to his heartbeat. You both were sprawled out on the small, creaky bed, you both entwined.
You had a hand running through his curls as he stared up, his mind at ease for once in his chaotic life. You stared at him with the most adoration and love anyone could ever feel. A soft smile across your face.
He wanted to stay like this forever, he wanted to be buried like this.
Touch my lips, close your eyes and see with your fingertips
Your first kiss with Luke was like a dream. An awkward, but amazing dream.
It was quiet, nothing could be heard but the waves crashing against the cliffs next to you both. You laid staring at the night sky with him, and that moment felt more intimate than any other.
You both were staring at the same sky, the same stars and the same moon. Fate written in it, your names tangled in it.
He glanced at you and you glanced back, glancing turned into staring. Staring turned into his softly grabbing your face, whispering sweet nothings, telling you how he’s loved you for a while now, his whole life really.
You lean in, capturing your lips in his. Heads tilted and eyes closed, you leaned into his touch, his lips soft with strawberry lip balm from earlier.
Things that you do, and you know I'm crazy 'bout you
Your obsession with Luke got worse when you started dating him. You were friends before, of course you knew a lot about him. But you learned about him even more after, his secrets, his goals, his life, his dreams, his trauma and past.
You loved every single thing he did. The way he was with new, younger campers and the way he handled a sword.
Everyone around camp could tell you were infatuated, even crazy in love with him. And he loved that, he loved you.
Kisses of fire, burning, burning. I'm at the point of no returning
You sat on his bed, you were on his lap as you held his face in your hands, his hands on your waist.
He loved the taste of your lips, he let out a low moan as you slid your tongue into his mouth. He began to pay you down onto the bed, your back against it. A knock at the door interrupted the both of you. He just left your lips and looked at the door, it was Chris.
“Hey, what’s up?” Luke nodded, not bothering to get off of you.
Chris snickered, eyes going to you and back to Luke, he shut the cabin door behind him. “Just tryna get some sleep. Carry on. Don’t let me bother you.” He went to his bed, directly on top of Luke’s, a smirk on his face.
You looked back at Luke who just shrugged, and his lips were back on yours quickly, as he laid on top of you now, body on yours.
You wanted to never turn back, you wanted to stay with him.
Kisses of fire, sweet devotions. Caught in a landslide of emotions
His kisses were full of love, passion, they were intense.
His kisses were a show of love to you, his loyalty. He took it as a special thing.
You felt the happiest with him. When you were simply around him, or when you were kissing him. You felt overwhelmed by your own love and emotions when you kissed him. You felt fear of losing him.
I've had my share of love affairs and they were nothing compared to this.
You’ve been heartbroken by many, and the first person you went to was Luke. Every single time.
When you were growing up, 13 and your first boyfriend had broken up with you, Luke was there for you. He tried to comfort you to the best of his abilities.
Even when you were 18, going through the roughest break up. He thought you were the most gorgeous person in the world, he couldn’t comprehend why anyone would break up with you.
That’s when you got with him, when you realized you didn’t want to get with anyone else, you always had wanted him.
Every time he wished that you would realize it, that you would break up for those stupid guys for him.
And you were only happy when you were with him, the best you’ve ever been. Others noticed it too. You could love him in public, you could do things with him that your other boyfriends wouldn’t have even thought of doing with you.
He was better, in every situation, than your ex boyfriends.
Oh, I'm riding higher than the sky and there is fire in every kiss. Kisses of fire
Every kiss has fueled the fire in your heart, your love for him growing every time.
It was passion, a fiery and intense passion and love for you. He knew that, the thought of it scared him.
When you sleep by my side I feel safe and I know I belong. Still it's making me scared that my love is so strong.
His chest moving up and down, an arm wrapped around you tightly. Your hands tangled in his curls and the other on his body.
With his arms wrapped around you, you felt like nothing could hurt you. Not a Minotaur or echidna, no monster could come close. You belonged in his arms, with him, you thought as you stared at him. Even sleeping, he looked gorgeous.
You felt this anxiety at the bottom of your stomach. It creeps up. You’ve felt this before, it was fear.
You were terrified at the thought of losing him. You loved him, strongly, more than anything else.
It scared you, the thought of him betraying you or hurting you was always in the back of your mind. He could break your heart, give you broken heart syndrome, leave you to die alone.
Losing you It's a nightmare, babe, and to me it's new. Never before did you see me begging for more.
You never wanted to lose him. That you were sure of. You’ve never felt this intensely about a boy, it was strange, a foreign feeling.
Love was a foreign feeling. You’ve had boyfriends sure, but have you ever been in love with them as intensely? No.
You would do anything if it meant to keep him with you, in life or death, you would be with him.
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stuckysbike · 1 month
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More Than One Valentine
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A/n: All mistakes are my own. Written on my phone.
Stucky x Reader, Bucky x reader, Stucky, Steve x reader
AU: you finally get Steve and Bucky together- now you need to work out what to do with yourself abs your broken heart.
Warnings: angst, smut, 18 plus only please, fluff, FWB situation, presumed unrequited love, polyamory, MMF, bisexual Stucky, Dom!Bucky, sub!Steve, switch!reader
-
Bucky and Steve finally shared their first kiss on Valentine’s Day.
It was a bittersweet moment for you; you’d been trying to get them together for too long and now you had nothing to do, nowhere to go.
In a twisted and complicated situation you’d ended up as a FWB to both of them. It started with Bucky, a wet night with only his leather coat for shelter turned into desperate kissing and more. Then three months later he was on a mission and Steve had come in from a date in a terrible headspace.
You called Bucky because you didn’t know what else to do. Bucky’s advice was to screw Steve’s brains out.
“What?” You stuttered.
“He gets too into his head, you gotta’ help him clear it out doll,” Bucky said in that gruff tone.
“I - but - we-“
“Go ahead. I don’t mind sharing our arrangement with Stevie. Always shared everything with him anyway, you’re no different,” Bucky said as if you were an old coat or a favourite book.
It hurt, deep in your gut like a hand twisting it savagely, but you brushed it aside. You were just a couple of friends who tamed an itch. Bucky probably did it with lots of girls and guys. You weren’t his only one. You couldn’t be.
So you fell into a routine with them. If Steve had any reservations he didn’t share them and his mood changed, not just that night but overall. He was lighter, different like he had a plan again.
It was obvious they were in love, that they wanted each other. Everyone could see it, especially you. You spent most time with them, you saw the subtle touches, kind words and gentle gestures. You would find them making each other breakfast, or always making sure the other one was drinking enough water.
And the sex was …even? You never spent more time with one over the other. You went from one to the other than back.
Sometimes you didn’t even get to shower; after a night with Steve Bucky would drag you to his room in the morning to taste you while Steve went on a run. Sometimes Steve would come in after a long stint of being Captain America and bury his face in you pussy moments after Bucky had went to his own room.
“I can’t take it. They’re ruining my vagina,” you complained to Nat one evening after too many cocktails. The and my heart was left unspoken but you both knew it.
Nat had laughed anyway because in that moment you both needed to laugh. “Set them up.” She poured another drink. She wasn’t even following recipes any longer. It was shots of hard liquor that burned in the best way.
So you did, you made sure the floor you all shared was off limits, you lit candles and played soft music, dimmed the lights. You got your hands on some Asgardian Champagne, scattered rose petals and made sure both their bedrooms had ample supplies of lube and toys.
You made sure your own room had noise cancelling headphones, snacks and a queue of your favourite shows all lined up to make sure you didn’t think too much. Or hear too much.
You should have prepared for a broken heart.
Here they were after confessing their love and finally kissing as they stood in front of the massive windows. You were on the couch, you needed to start them off, convince them to take the leap, but as soon as they got lost in each other you stood and slipped away.
At least you tried to.
“Where are you going?” Steve asked, his voice small and vulnerable.
You froze and looked over your shoulder. They were both looking your way, faces unreadable.
“To give you both some privacy,” you said quietly.
“But we need to thank you,” Bucky’s voice was equally soft.
You offered them a smile, it was genuine because you were happy for them, you just realised too damn late that you’d fallen for both of them.
They walked towards you, a pair of supersoldiers, one beefy the other sculpted. One dark the other light.
Two pairs of blue eyes burned into your skin. You felt like crying, because it was the sexiest thing you’d ever seen and all they were going to do was hug you then get on with their lives.
Bucky caught your hand and pulled you towards his body but he turned you so your back was to his chest.
“Say thank you Stevie,” he growled.
Steve immediately dropped his mouth to yours. The kiss was gentle, just a brush of his pink lips as they pressed into yours. He pulled away after the kiss that was not just friendly. “Thank you.” He had that sincere look, the honest voice.
Your heart broke a little more.
And then Bucky was turning you in his arms and looking down at you. Steve’s big hands rested on your hips as he held you in place for Bucky. Bucky was rougher than Steve, his lips pressed you harder more demanding making you weak at the knees.
Where Steve asked Bucky took.
“Thank you,” Bucky said, a tiny smirk at the corner of his mouth. “Now where were we?”
And they started kissing over your shoulder. They moved close crushing your body between theirs, hands holding you still as they explored each others mouths.
You gasped and tried to slip away but you were trapped. You tried harder only for them to part and Bucky looked at you with hard eyes.
“Stop squirming doll, I’m kissing on my fella and you’re distracting me. You’ll get your turn.” You gaped up at Bucky but his focus was back on Steve. “Come ‘ere you.”
You could hear the wet noises of their kisses, could feel their physical reactions as you stood trapped between their hard bodies.
When they pulled apart for air you found yourself turned back to Steve and he was kissing you, desperate now as he licked into your mouth. He let out a needy moan as he lifted you and you had no choice but to wrap your legs around him.
“So fuckin’ sexy,” Bucky growled. His hands were on your hips and ass and it took you a moment to realise you were moving towards Steve’s bedroom.
Steve fell back on his bed and looked up at you with doe eyes, lips parted and pure trust. And something else you couldn’t place. You were straddling his waist when the bedroom door clicked shut.
“Don’t mind me,” Bucky sat on the chair in the corner, and you looked between them. Maybe this was one last night with them, and you would make it count before they got on with the rest of their lives without you.
In the bedroom Steve was submissive. It had surprised you at first; but it made sense. Steve carried the universe on his shoulders sometimes so it was natural that he’d want to forget. So you were what he needed you to be. You took charge, took care of him, made it so that he didn’t need a plan or a rousing speech in the bedroom.
Bucky was dominant, that didn’t surprise you at all. He needed control, where he’d been tortured before now he thrived in giving pleasure in making decisions, on taking care of his lovers. You let him take care of you, you basked in and enjoyed it. You loved the attention.
And you were the perfect switch between them giving each of them what they needed.
You bit your lip, nerves running through you but you pushed it aside to try and enjoy one last night with them both.
“Colour?” You asked.
“Green!” Steve said urgently.
“Steve, take your clothes off,” you said. Steve immediately sat up and unbuttoned his shirt slowly, looking between you and Bucky but you clicked your tongue and Steve’s eyes flew to you. “Eyes on me baby, you have him all to yourself soon enough.”
Steve’s eyebrows scrunched and Bucky shifted in his chair but you stayed still watching Steve. He folded his shirt then toed his shoes off, and as he unbuckled his belt and pulled it from the loops he looked down at you, holding it between big hands.
Bucky sucked in a breath as you nodded and Steve set the belt on the bed for later. He sat and removed his socks then his pants.
Once upon a time his cheeks would have been red by this point but Steve had gotten past that, he trusted you and with his attention on you the fact that Bucky was sitting right there didn’t even phase him.
His boxer briefs were navy blue, and it was obvious he was aroused by the whole situation. He looked at you as he thumbed the waistband.
“Won’t be much fun with them on will it Soldier?” You teased and his cheeks flushed a slight shade of pink before he started to push them down. “Eyes on me.” You reminded him and his confidence returned.
And then Steve was naked, standing tall and proud and fully erect. You looked at Bucky and he was watching the two of you with something that looked like pride.
“Why don’t you get your ring, plug and the lube?” You suggested to Steve.
Bucky groaned and you glanced over at him as Steve scrambled across the bed to grab what he wanted from underneath. “Do you want to cut in?”
Bucky smiled, warm and genuine and for a second your breath caught. “Yes,” he said softly. “But not yet. I’m dying to see where this goes.”
When you turned back to the bed Steve was kneeling in the middle, eyes wide and wet lips parted. “You look like a horny puppy.” You told him and it made him laugh.
You didn’t say anything else as you removed your clothes and Steve settled down to watch you, waiting patiently with his hands in his lap.
When you got to your bra and panties you hesitated but Bucky’s soft voice rang in your ears. “All of it.”
You looked over at him, making eye contact to acknowledge you’d heard him then nodded, holding his gaze.
You removed your bra, then panties and Steve let out a gentle moan.
“On your back baby,” you told Steve. He complied immediately and lay back, spreading his long legs so you could settle between his thighs. He handed you a pillow and you thanked him with a kiss to the lips then helped him place it under his hips. “Do you want your belt?”
Steve nodded eagerly and you handed it to him. Steve lay back with his arms stretched above his head holding the belt in his hands.
“Colour?” You checked.
“Green,” Steve said.
“Steve is such a good boy that he stays like that until he’s told to move,” you told Bucky. “Well, most of the time.”
Bucky laughed softly and you drew your focus back to Steve. Bending you kissed his thighs, nipping at sensitive skin. As you moved closer Steve moaned and gasped until finally you were pressing a chaste kiss to the base of his cock.
You kissed lower until your tongue reached his tightly furled ass, and then with wet licks you proceeded to help him relax. You didn’t notice Bucky get out of his chair, not until you saw the black vibranium hand resting on Steve’s knee.
You pulled away and looked up at him. “Too much for you?”
“Christ Dolly you’re killing me,” Bucky’s voice was rough with arousal.
You giggled and got back to your task. It wasn’t long before you were sitting up and drizzling lube on your fingers. You warmed it up then pressed two against his puckered hole.
“The lube is edible and flavoured. Steve likes his asshole eaten,” you said conversationally to Bucky.
Steve whined and you grinned up at him. You shuffled closer and took the tip of his cock into your mouth, licking the pre-cum and sucking the skin as you curled your fingers. Steve cried out and you took him deeper, breathing through your nose as he filled your throat. You loved this, Steve at your mercy as you pleasured him.
When you finally felt the hairs at the base of his cock tickle your nose you pulled back and reached for the cock ring. “He doesn’t really need this, he has a refractory period just like yours but sometimes he’s over eager. He can get…messy.”
Steve moaned softly, hearing you talk about him as if he wasn’t there was driving him insane in the best way.
“You know him well,” Bucky praised. He was right behind you now looking over your shoulder, still fully clothed apart from his shoes and socks. You hadn’t noticed him taking them off.
You reached for the plug next, it was a smaller one, black, with a flared base. It slipped in easily but Steve moaned and arched his back. You turned it slowly and watched his chest heave.
“How do you feel?” You asked Steve.
He nodded and met your eyes. “I feel yeah-“
“Colour?” You asked.
“Green,” Steve practically slurred.
You chuckled and then settled back onto your haunches. Bucky looked at you curious for your next move.
“He’s all yours,” you whispered looking up at him.
A big hand cupped your cheek and he kissed you softly. “He’s all ours Doll.”
Your heart skipped a beat and you wished that were true but you pushed the hope away. This was about getting them together. Nothing else.
Bucky kissed you, his movements lazy but dominating and he gripped your soft skin. His hand slipped between your legs and you’d been able to ignore your needs until now but as soon as his fingertip brushed your slick puffy lips you sighed and leaned into Bucky. His other hand moved to your hair and he fisted it just enough to pull your head back. “I’m so proud of you. Watching you with Steve, so proud of both of you.”
You felt the blood warm your cheeks at his praise and snuggled against him.
“Now, I’m going to undress. I want you to get a reward for being so good to Stevie, what do you say Steve?” Bucky asked easily taking over the room.
Steve nodded eagerly. “Yes, please, baby, sit on my face?”
“Yeah, I want to see that. Go sit on his face baby,” Bucky kissed you again. You did as he asked, turning so you could watch him. Steve didn’t let go of the belt as his tongue dove inside your folds, lapping and sucking at your juices.
Steve moaned and Bucky’s sharp eyes zeroed in on you. “Hovering baby girl? That’s against the rules,” Bucky warned.
Steve moaned again and you chuckled, giving Bucky a bright smile. “I know he’s been good, but he has to earn it,” you teased.
Bucky smiled softly and removed his black boxer briefs and then he was kneeling between Steve’s spread legs. He skimmed his fingers along the sensitive skin on Steve’s thighs and you could see Steve tremble. You close that moment to rest your full weight on him for a few seconds, knowing he needed it.
His moans vibrated through you and then Bucky was kissing you. “Good fuckin’ girl.”
Bucky touched Steve and every time he cried out or trembled you rested your weight onto him, calming him.
And then Bucky was bringing the plug out, replacing it with his fingers. His eyes flicked up to you as Steve sucked on your clit.
“Cum baby,” Bucky said. You didn’t even know you were waiting for permission. You cried out as your release washed through you, making your toes curl. As you came down from your high Bucky kissed you. “Now go clean him up.”
You moved fast, straddling Steve’s tummy and kissing over his face, licking into his mouth. You were so busy kissing Steve you almost missed the deep groan he let out. Two hands, one warm and one cold lifted your hips and then Steve’s cock was sliding snugly into your soaked cunt.
“I’m going to fuck both of you now,” Bucky warned.
“Please Bucky,” you whined.
Bucky’s hand slid into your hair and he grabbed a thick fistful as he pulled you back against his chest.
“Look at you,” Bucky growled in your ear as his other hand slid around your throat. His nimble fingers trailed your body, plucking at your nipples, squeezing soft flesh, tickling your hips and exploring the area where you and Steve were joined. “Our perfect girl.”
“Bucky,” you turned to him squeezing your thighs. Beneath you Steve grunted as you squeezed his cock, his eyes never leaving you and Bucky.
“Colour?” Bucky asked you.
“So fuckin’ green!” You said.
“Stevie, baby I need you to hold onto her, make sure she has some support. Hands up,” he said.
Steve let go of the belt and raised his hands, palms up and fingers wide. “Good boy baby,” Bucky praised. You reached out and pressed your palms to Steve’s, let your fingers tangle and lock together.
Steve tested the pressure, moving you slightly and you couldn’t help but giggle as he practically used you as a weight, lowering you to kiss his lips then pushing you back to Bucky’s chest.
Bucky let out a soft laugh at the two of you and hooked his chin over your bare shoulder. “Show off,” he said to Steve. Steve, in a happy headspace blew him a kiss.
Bucky started off gentle, his thrusts going through Steve and into you. Bucky was taking his time, working out this new position as he managed both of you.
His hands returned to your body, his fingers strumming over your body. He knew every nerve, knew what made you sigh and squeal, what relaxed you and what wound you up.
With a palm on your back he pushed you forward until you were lying on Steve’s chest. His right hand gripped your butt cheek, moulding the flesh and you knew it was coming but you still yelped.
Steve grunted, you were squeezing his cock again. “Do you know why I’m spanking you?” Bucky’s voice cut through your brain fog and you nodded.
“I broke a rule,” you slurred. Steve kissed your cheek and forehead as he simply observed. “I hovered.”
Bucky grunted in agreement and a few more slaps landed on you. “You had a good reason though so I think that’ll do.”
Bucky’s hands moved over your back as he curled over you both. His right hand cupped Steve’s cheek. Kissing each other in this position would be impossible so he ran his thumb over Steve’s lips. Steve opened his mouth and sucked Bucky’s thumb in. Bucky groaned at the sight and the sensation.
“You good there Sweetheart?” Bucky asked him.
Steve’s smile was dopey, despite Bucky’s digit in his way and he nodded, his eyes shining. “Never better.”
The words were garbled but easily understood none the less. As Bucky pulled away he kissed your cheek.
Bucky started to thrust again and you moved back to sit on Steve, that’s when you realised you couldn’t feel the cock ring. Bucky must have removed it from Steve and you were grateful because you didn’t think you had the ability to remove it at this point. You were a soft Dom, you didn’t like delaying or preventing orgasms, you were too needy yourself.
You kissed Steve’s chest and face as Bucky fucked him and Steve sobbed into your mouth when your lips met. Bucky’s movements were getting more aggressive and Steve was gasping and thrashing in pleasure.
“Is he good?” You prompted.
“So good, I’m - it’s - he’s amazing,” Steve said.
“Shush, baby hush, he’ll hear you and his ego will be insufferable,” you teased.
Bucky laughed, his hand sliding around your throat and pulling you back to his chest. “So rude,” he grunted as he kissed you, his fingers finally brushing over your clit.
Steve came first after you clenched around his cock, your body chasing Bucky’s fingers, and you followed a few moments behind him. The familiar stutter of Bucky’s breathing told you he’d found his release too.
“You two will be the death of me,” he said as he kissed your neck and shoulders and helped you untangle yourself from Steve.
A warm cloth was cleaning you, hands were moving you and you realised Steve was getting the same treatment as he sighed in contentment.
Bucky got into bed on the other side of Steve and smiled softly at you both.
“I should go,” you said suddenly.
“No!” They both said at once.
You shifted. “But I- this was about you two.”
Steve pulled you on top of him then rolled over, pinning you between him and Bucky. “Going nowhere.”
Bucky chuckled. “Darlin’ we’re crazy about you, if you haven’t noticed. I know you like to talk about feelings and stuff but we’re doing this my way. You’re my best girl, he’s my best guy, we’ll work it out from there.”
You opened your mouth but your words betrayed you so instead you snuggled into their arms and enjoyed their warmth. Maybe this could work, maybe the three of you could find peace.
“Besides,” Steve yawned, “you negate our stupid.”
You giggled. Bucky slid a leg between yours and rested his hand on Steve’s chest.
Meanwhile deep inside your own chest your heart sang.
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raginglesbian2006 · 2 months
Note
what is your vision on Alastor with a Male Reader who is the opposite of him? Rarely smiles, isn't very chatty and is kinda rough? Maybe, since Alastor loves dancing and singing, Reader or feels shy about it and doesn't like the way he dances and sings or doesn't hate it and watches Alastor dance and sing
ooh, this is a fun ask, lets go
Alastor with a male reader who's the complete opposite of him
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So you joined the Hazbin Hotel out of genuine curiosity
You had died fairly young, almost in your late twenties. You have never figured out why you ended up in hell
So it is safe to say, that when you heard of the Hazbin Hotel, you were eager to join, albeit a little skeptical
Of course, it came with your fair share of anxiety when you knocked on the doors of the hotel and were greeted with the ever-smiling radio demon
It spooked your little heart TO THE CORE
Ah well, fast forward a few weeks later and you were adjusting well
Angel Dust was quite protective of you, claiming you to be his younger brother
Niffty initially took to you since she thought you were a "bad boy" but hey, at least she considers you as a friend now
Charlie and Vaggie have been sweet to you and so have Husk and Sir Pentious
Of course, you'd have trouble trying to bond with Alastor
Alastor was loud, boisterous, and loved to scare the living shit out of people whereas you were quiet, reserved, and soft-spoken
Alastor didn't even pay mind to you that much. To him, you were insignificant
All that changed when he tasted your food though. You cook a mean jambalaya. (You were surprised to find Alastor's plate clean when you just turned around for one second)
After that, the radio demon hung around you from time to time and you started growing comfortable with him as well
You were not a fan of him pulling you along to dance on random occasions when jazz played through the radios
Still, you tried your best to keep up with him. You weren't into all the swing dancing so you resolved to just watch him do all the work lol
You aren't that chatty of a person so you just listen to Alastor blab about anything and everything. He once told you that you were a good listener and patted your head
He gave you a personalized radio one day. He bragged about how he came up with the immaculate design but you were too flustered to notice
So it seemed was the rest of the hotel
The big bad radio demon gave you a gift??? Are we talking about the same radio demon here?
It didn't stop there. You were bombarded with gifts every other day. Sometimes it was books, flowers, tea cup sets, or a full-on attire (He gave you a coat that looked just like his, except with the colors reversed)
You asked Alastor about his...frequent gift-giving and he very bluntly stated, "Why, my dear, I am trying to court you after all. "
Error 404
He took you out on a date after you recovered from your slight panic attack
You realize you don't mind being the radio demon's boyfriend
He even started being respectful of your quiet nature. He quite likes the peace anyway
Vox is foaming at the mouth and plotting to kill you as we speak
A/N: This turned out a little different than I'd hoped but I hope you enjoy it!
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cyberrose2001 · 9 months
Note
Hi hi! Your op drawings are so good?? My bby aaa drawing him (bots in gen) is so tough, I get too caught up in the details TT
Anyway, since I miss him lol I was wondering if I could request some... uh, gosh I hate this word but idk anything synonymous. Could I request pussydrunk tfp op?
Hope you're having a nice day/night btw <3
- 🍄
TFP pussydrunk!Optimus x reader
Hi hello!!I am very proud of this and it's probably up there with my list of my favourite fics I have ever written. Thank you so much for requesting and liking my silly sketches of the blorbo. I've written this as gender neutral <3
(lowkey ive been writing heaps of OP eating pussy,,, its a canon event for me i cannot intervene..... anyway its 11AM and i havent slept yet but i needed to finish hggggh *dies of horny*)
Warnings: Oral sex (reader receiving), edging, reader has a vagina.
Word count: 657
18+ ONLY! MINORS DNI
Spending time alone with you has learned to be one of Optimus' most treasured past times. But as much as it pains him, relaxing with you is a rare treat. The usual business of the base either keeps him up all night, or he genuinely has no time. However, he tries his best to make the most of it, whether he's relaxing with you, cuddling you, or with his head glued between your inner thighs. 
Like right now. It was nearing two AM. Optimus has you sprawled out on your shared berth, his face pressed against your aching heat, finally finding sweet relief from his built-up arousal. It's been too fragging long since his face was buried in you. He misses it, and if Optimus had a choice, he would sacrifice everything he's worked for to keep you bare before him.
Two hours. Optimus had been lazily lapping at you for two hours now. At one point, his helm had lulled to the side to rest against your right inner thigh to not strain his neck. His glossa grows tired, and his energon roars through his hot frame.
His stamina is almost depleted compared to when he initially delved into your drenched pussy. Despite this, Optimus still has the capacity to tightly grip your hips, gently massaging them as you lie still for him. He is weary, yet he perseveres, ignoring his aching joints and pulsing spike painfully pressed against the berth because tonight is about you. He will make up for all those lonely nights you've spent in berth alone in one lengthy oral session.
It's very often that when Optimus gives you oral, his mind feels like he's been transported to a higher plane of existence, one where he has no responsibilities or obligations to lead a team, just the mind-numbing taste of you. It makes him dizzy and light-headed, similar to the buzz he gets when he has a high grade or two, but Optimus prefers revelling in you instead to get his high. 
As ever patient as you are with your star-crossed lover, your hips still gently roll and shudder involuntarily against his glossa, and Optimus fucking loves it. He loves your soft cries when he sucks on your clit, and he loves when you clamp your legs around his helm when your orgasm is merely within reach. But he won't let you finish just yet, not when he's yet to relish and thoroughly drown himself in your sticky sweet.  
His warm optics remain lazily trained on your face, only fluttering close when you squeeze his helm. The pressure from your thighs only heightens his hunger, a carnal desire to swallow every drop of your aphrodisiac juices. 
"Mmmmm," You mewl, sweaty palms digging into the berth, "Fuck, I missed this… why don't we do this - aah - more often, baby…."
Optimus doesn't respond, and he can't because his processor is so intoxicated and aroused that he can't even form a single coherent sentence. It's quite ironic, he thinks. A mech of his nature that is so poised and articulate in his vocable is conned by his own desperate need to surrender his intake to his humans' essence.
"Mmmffh," He purrs into your heat, parting your sensitive lips with his glossa, lazily swirling around your bud before pressing a gentle kiss against it. He can't help but grind his spike into the berth below at your whimpers, servos kneading into your soft flesh, "More… Primus, I need more…."
You titter breathlessly, snaking a hand to the top of his helm to lightly press his face further into your pulsing heat, and Optimus delightfully grunts. You shiver, biting back a moan at the vibrations, "Go ahead, hun, you've got me for the rest of the night."
Optimus may need to blow a hole into the sun to prevent it from rising, since one night will never be enough to satisfy his thirst for you.
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hope-drunk · 10 months
Text
BITE THE HAND
| you misbehave at an important event with abby, she puts you in your place.
| wc: ~3.7k
| cw: vague plot tbh, abby's a premed major, abby smokes cigarettes, punishment, brat!tamer abby, f!reader, spanking, edging, overstimulation, degradation, oral, fingering, strap usage (all r!recieving), mean!abby, praising, mentions of aftercare but not really a full scene of it, abby gets called mommy, lmk if i'm missing something
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Abby’s really pissed off; she’s genuinely infuriated. You were embarrassing her; in front of  a lot of people who mattered. Important people, who determined what was going to happen with her future. She brought you to the banquet because she wanted to share this moment with you. She wanted to show you off to her peers and brag that you were supportive, and the best girlfriend that she could ask for, but you weren’t being supportive. 
You sit yourself down to sulk; spinning your straw around in your drink. You let out an agitated sigh. It’s boring here. Not only was it boring, Abby hasn’t paid attention to you the entire night. You thought that she was going to show you off, you even bought a new dress for this! But she didn’t seem to pay you any mind.
She seemed really interested in all the other people here though. From your point of view, Abby has spent the whole night bragging to them about her accomplishments. You’ve seen her arm get rubbed in amazement more times than you can count; it didn’t matter to you that they were just being friendly, that was your arm to rub. That was your girlfriend to praise. Every time you tried to insert yourself into conversation, Abby brushed you off. If she was already treating you like you were embarrassing her; you’d do it for real. 
Abby walks over to the table you’re sitting at. “Hey, can you get up for me? Want you to meet someone.”
You look up at her. “Oh, now you want to show me off?” 
“What are you talking about? Been trying to get you to meet people all night.” She puts a hand on your shoulder and rubs it up and down; a signal for you to stand.
“I don’t want to meet anyone.”
She scoffs; puts her pointer and thumb on the bridge of her nose and squeezes. “Please, baby, I really can’t deal with this right now.”
“Fine,” You say, standing and lacing your arm through her’s.
You walk over to an older man in a tux. Abby smiles politely at him.
“Doctor Smith, I’d like you to meet my girlfriend.” She says.
You shake his hand, trying your hardest to act like you want to be there. 
“So nice to meet you. You know, you have a rather impressive girlfriend. Miss Anderson is one of the best students I’ve ever seen.”
“Yeah, she does well to remind me.” You reply. You see Abby give you a look from the corner of your eye. The look isn’t a kind, loving one. The look says be fucking polite.
Luckily for you, the Doctor laughs and pats Abby on the shoulder. “She’s a firecracker, huh!”
“That’s one word for her.” Abby says. Now it’s your turn to shoot her a look, she ignores you, continuing her conversation with the Doctor. 
After they talk about the class that Abby is in, he says goodbye to you both, walking away to mingle.
“Come here,” Abby says. Before you can even ask her where, she’s yanking your arm and dragging you behind her.
You feel like a dog being yanked by the leash, her strong arms left no room to shimmy out of her hold; forced to go where she wanted. She pulls you into a family restroom and locks the door.
“Jesus Christ! What is wrong with you? That was embarrassing!” You practically yell at her, placing your hands on your hips.
“Embarrassing? I’m embarrassing you? You’ve been a brat the whole fucking night, sitting there with a goddamn pout on your face.” Abby says back at the same volume. You’re sure if anyone walked by they could hear you, but neither of you seemed to care.
“I’m not being a brat, you’re not paying attention to me.” 
“That’s because this isn’t about you. I wanted to bring you here so I could show everyone how supportive you are; how much patience and love you show me even though I am so busy with work, but I guess they don’t get to meet that version of you!” Abby yells at you, clearly frustrated with your attitude and accusations.
You’re rendered silent. You guess you don’t know what you thought this was going to be, maybe you had a different idea of the evening than Abby did. You slowly start to realize that you may be in the wrong; that you may have created some narrative in your head that Abby was ignoring you when really, she was trying to include you.
Abby sees you thinking, “What?”
“I’m sorry.”
Abby stands in shock, but she doesn’t let it show. She turns around and rubs a hand over her face. You’ve never apologized so fast. Usually it took a lot of coaxing to make you realize that you’ve done something wrong, but not this time. “Sorry for what?” 
“For– y’know,” you wave your hands around. Saying sorry was one thing, but you know what she really wanted from you; she wanted you to say you were being a brat; that you had been bad and embarrassed her.
“No, I don’t know.”
You whine, “Abby, you do know.”
“Listen, here’s what we’re gonna do; we’re gonna stay for thirty more minutes, and then we’re going to go home, and I’m gonna make you say why you’re sorry, alright?” 
Tears well in your eyes. Abby was relentless when it came to punishments. Even if you told her what she wanted to hear after the first ten minutes, there was no stopping her. It’s like she became a completely different person. With how mad she looked, you knew you were in for it tonight. Suddenly, you want to stay at the banquet, afraid of what will happen when you step foot into your joint bedroom. 
Abby watches as you fiddle with your hands, and despite how angry she was, she takes a deep breath and walks over to you. She lifts up your chin and plants a kiss to your forehead, reminding you that no matter how much you piss her off, she’ll never stop loving you. She walks out of the bathroom, swinging the door open and extending a hand behind her so that you would grab on. You quickly lace your fingers into her’s and let her pull you out of the small room. The rest of the time you’re there, you try your hardest to stay on your best behavior. This time, it’s harder, because you’re studying your every movement to make sure it won’t piss Abby off more; scared of what the girl would do to you if you kept acting up even after the talk. You do well the rest of the night though, and when Abby says her goodbyes, you cling extra hard to her arm; looking for comfort in the girl who’s about to put you in your place.
When you get into Abby’s car, she pulls her box of cigarettes out of her glove box; grabbing one and lighting it. A familiar pop song is playing on the radio, and there’s wind blowing through Abby’s cracked open window. 
She takes a long drag and looks over at you, “You know you can say stop at any time, right?” She exhales the smoke.
“Yeah,” you answer, meekly. 
“I’m serious.”
“I know.”
The rest of the drive is silent. Abby finishes her cigarette and lights another one. You wish she would let you smoke one, but every time you ask, she gives you a lecture about how she wishes she never started and how bad they are for you. Since you were already in for a lecture about another thing; you figure it’s best to not ask her for one. She pulls into her spot at the apartment complex. Abby steps out of the car and comes over to your side, opening the door and offering a hand to help you out. You gladly take it; happy to soak up the last bits of nice Abby before she completely turns on you. She walks behind you as you go up the stairs to your door. She uses her key to unlock it, and you both walk in. Abby throws the keys onto the table that sits by the door.
“You know how I want you.” She says. It feels like her voice has already dropped lower.
You nod your head at her and walk into the bedroom, stripping off your dress and undergarments. You bend over the bed. Your legs kick up a few times, a nervous tick that only comes out in this situation. The waiting was brutal. You knew that Abby was in the kitchen preparing a glass of water and making sure the aloe vera gel was in the fridge so that when the punishment ended she’d be ready for aftercare, but it didn’t stop the anxiety from creeping in.
You hear Abby’s footsteps come closer and you fix your position; knowing it’ll only be worse if she catches you slacking. Abby sighs and rubs a hand up and down your back, it slowly starts to trail down to your ass.
“Do you know why you’re in trouble?”
“Yes,”
“Tell me why I’m punishing you.”
She grabs a handful of your ass and releases a few times; it distracts you for a moment. She pats it lightly to remind you of the question. “Was a brat, embarrassed you in front of your friends and teachers.”
“That’s right. You just can’t help yourself, can you? Always gotta act up when I need you to be good. The night could’ve gone so much different, huh baby?” Abby moves around the bed and squats down so that she’s face to face with you. She pouts when she sees the tears welling in your lower lash line. “Poor girl, now you gotta be put in your place. Can’t have you doing that again, right?”
You sniffle, “No,” 
“No,” she mocks. She takes a deep breath and stands, moving back to where your ass is in the air. “Gonna give you ten, alright?”
“Okay,”
She starts slow, rubbing up and down your ass again. She loves to work you up; loves to get your energy so high that you listen for every shift of her body. It works every time. After a while, you can’t help but become hyper aware of everything that’s happening in the room. Your back arches against your will; Abby’s movements turn you on although that’s not the point of them right now.
She scoffs, and lands the first smack to the right side of your ass. You yelp at the sting. She spanks you twice more on the same cheek before grabbing it harshly. You push your head into the bedsheets, letting your tears make a stain. She moves her hand to the left side, delivering three more hits to even out the punishment. Your tears were falling silently before, but now you can’t help but let out sobs at the pain on your ass. 
Abby pulls you up by the hair, forcing you to stop hiding. “You see what bad girls get? They get a spanked ass and no mercy from their mommy.”
“I’m sorry!” You wail. 
“You’re gonna be.”
She smacks the spot where your ass meets your thigh on both sides. You’ve always hated when she does this; you couldn’t sit comfortably in a chair for a few days when she hits that spot. She delivers two more hits to each cheek and steps back. She lets you cry for a bit and admires her work. She loves how easy it is to break you. She just has to tell you you’re a bad girl a few times and give you a couple of smacks and you’re apologizing; begging to show her how good you could be. That wasn’t enough for Abby though. She wanted you completely at her mercy. She wanted to turn your brain into mush so that you couldn’t even imagine ever being bad again. 
She decides she’s spent enough time looking at your backside and walks back up to you, flipping you over on the bed so that you were looking into her eyes. She doesn’t break eye contact as she shoves a hand down between your bodies, swiping a finger through your folds. You watch her pupils dilate as she realizes how wet you are.
“Seriously, sweetheart?” You don’t say anything in response, you’re not sure if the embarrassment or the fear took over, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to answer her. “You’re disgusting, you know that? Can’t believe you’re getting off on this. ‘Supposed to be a punishment.”
“Sorry,” you mumble. 
If Abby was good at one thing, it was making you embarrassed. You don’t even care though, because her finger is still running up and down your folds, gently touching your clit every once in a while. You try not to jump at the shock of electricity it sends through you when she touches it because you don’t want her to stop. Unfortunately, she catches on and removes her hand.
“Move up.”
You comply and go to the top of the bed. Abby stays close to you as she makes her way up too. It makes you feel so small; it makes you feel hunted. You sit up on your elbows once you’re at the top of the bed. She smooths her hand over your stomach and glaces down, looking at how your hips twitch every time she moves it lower.
“Want me to touch you, baby?”
“Yeah,” you say, basically a whisper.
“Think you deserve to be touched?”
A frown pulls at your lips, “No,”
She mirrors you and puts on a faux frown, “That’s alright, mommy’ll take care of you.”
Before you know it, Abby’s made a home between your legs and her tongue is diving between your folds. She laps at your cunt like it’s her last meal. You gasp at the sudden sensation and buck your hips, trying to grind on her face. Her nose hits your clit and you feel dizzy. The pleasure is too much. The punishment paired with Abby’s degrading words already had you reeling, and now you felt your headspace start to slip. Your ears feel stuffed with cotton as you whine at the strong girl below you. She licks a particularly sensitive spot and your thighs try to squeeze together, but her shoulders stop you. You put a hand on top of her head, trying to slow her down or reposition her, you weren’t sure at this point.
“Close– I’m close, mommy”
She hums into your cunt, but doesn’t give you permission. You whine, trying to remind her of your predicament while also trying to focus on not coming. You feel like you’re about to fall over the edge. The hand on top of her head is now trying to push her away. You didn’t want to come without permission, but you knew you would if she didn’t stop. Suddenly, Abby’s mouth is off of your cunt. You gasp; legs snapping closed at the ache that’s left behind.
You try your hardest not to say anything about the orgasm slipping away; knowing that Abby hates complaining. She had you believing you would be able to come for a split second. It felt like you could have reached out and grabbed it. 
“Bad girls don’t get to come.” Abby pants.
You start crying for what feels like the millionth time that night. Abby pushes your legs back open, inserting two thick digits into your weeping hole. You basically scream at the intrusion; sensitive from the ruined orgasm.
“So fucking easy to get you to be my good girl again, isn’t it? Just needed to be put in your place, didn’t you?” Abby says.
You’re not paying attention; head floating away from the amount of pleasure you’re getting from her fingers thrusting in and out of you. Abby grabs your face with her free hand, forcing you to look at her and focus on what she's saying.
“Dumb girl, get you all full and messy and you can’t even talk.”
The cruel words send a wave of arousal through you, and Abby smirks when she feels it.
You feel the knot tighten again, and your brows furrow; your mouth forms an ‘o’. Abby notices, watches you closely; sees how far she can push you before you break. Your mouth closes and you pull your bottom lip into your mouth, biting hard so that you focus on the pain from that and not your impending orgasm. Right when you feel the wave start to come, Abby pulls her fingers out of you, wiping them on your stomach.
“No!” You shout this time. 
Abby doesn’t even entertain you. She moves off the bed and goes to the closet, getting out the box that holds her black strap. As she puts it on, she watches you on the bed. You’re holding your tits for comfort as your legs shake. You have your eyes closed, and you’re taking big, deep breaths. Abby makes sure the strap is secure and walks back over to the bed. You open your eyes when you feel the bed dip down. You’re met with the thick silicone and you can’t help but gulp. Again, Abby watches your reaction. She’s always been a watcher, it’s what gets her turned on. Seeing the effect she has on you; how her words, her hands, her strap mess with your head in their own way. After you’ve been dating this long, she knows exactly how you’ll react to whatever she draws out, but she loves to watch you every time. 
“Gonna let mommy fuck you, baby? If you’re really good, I’ll let you come, okay?”
Before she’s even finished the sentence fully you blurt out, “Yeah, gonna let you fuck me.”
Abby laughs, “So desperate,”
She lines up the silicone cock with your hole and presses in gently. You’re already pretty stretched out from her fingers, and you’re certainly wet enough, but she still wants to be a bit gentle. She knows that the strap can sting sometimes; she also knows that you’ve learned your lesson by now. Once her hips meet yours, Abby lets out a grunt. Sometimes she feels like she can feel it; can feel how tight you’re squeezing her and how warm & wet you are. She knows the strap isn’t attached to her; knows that she can’t feel it, but that doesn’t stop her from pretending she can.
“Fuck, so tight, bunny.” She grunts out, edging the strap out before pushing it back in again, setting her pace. “Feels good, yeah?”
“Feels so good, mommy. So good.” You moan out.
Abby rearranges your limbs, putting your legs over her shoulders so she can make sure you really feel it all. You shiver at the new position, when Abby slides out and back in, she hits your g-spot perfectly. 
“Oh God,” you say.
Abby loses herself in your cunt. She’s not able to focus on anything other than how wet you are; how the strap thrusts in and out of you. She focuses on how badly she wants to make you come and how the strap has started to rub her clit perfectly. She uses a hand to grab your tit, squeezing it over and over again as she picks up her pace. This is another version of Abby. Long gone is the chivalrous Abby, and even punishment Abby. This Abby wants to make you come over and over again until you’re asking her to stop. She wants to please you until you’re sick of the pleasure. 
“Shh, you’re okay. Gonna make you feel so good now. Mommy’s not mad anymore. Just need you to come for me.” Abby says.
Your legs start to shake harder as your orgasm approaches for the third time that night. You feel it come closer and closer, threatening you. You’re scared to ask; not sure if Abby’s still playing games with you. 
“Really need–”
Abby cuts you off, “Go ahead, been so good for me.”
Her words allow the wave to crash into you. Your whole body shakes as Abby fucks you through your orgasm. Your head spins as you come back down to the room. Abby’s hips haven’t stopped once.
“Too much– can’t,” 
“Yes you can. You can, princess. You’re gonna come with mommy, okay? We’re gonna come together. Take a deep breath for me, there y’go. I’m almost there, just let me– fuck.”
Abby talks you through it, but also talks herself through it. If she knows you’ll come with her, she won’t be able to stop herself. She takes her eyes off of your cunt so she can watch how your face contorts at the overstimulation. She’s ready to tip over the edge and she sees that you are too. 
“Come, come now.”
You do as she says. Abby’s hips finally stop, the strap finds its home deep in your cunt, keeping you full while you spin out from your second orgasm of the night. 
Abby comes to first, she quietly mutters that she’s taking the strap out of you, knowing that you won’t be able to understand her anyway. You let out a small breath at the removal, and your legs fall down onto the bed. Abby massages your calf, and leans up to place a kiss on your forehead.
“Hi,” you mumble.
Abby smiles at you, “Hi, pretty.”
“Are y’still mad at me?”
“Nah, was never mad; could never be mad at you, sweet girl.”
You smile back at her. She gives your calf one last squeeze before getting off the bed. You whine; asking her where she’s going in your own blissed out way. 
“Gonna get you water, okay? Be right back.”
You nod and close your eyes. You shift and feel your ass sting. 
“Ow,” you whisper.
Although it does hurt, you’re happy to have a small reminder of Abby left on you. 
1K notes · View notes
gangplanksorenji · 3 months
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Kinknuary Day 8: Thighfucking
Pairing: Kep1er Mashiro x Male Reader
Word Count: 4,586
[Kinknuary Masterlist]
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Love can be faux and genuine, as well as how greedy and fluttering romance can be—well, that’s what you believe and no one can brush it off your mind. Maybe, at least, not from her attempts of persuasion that she made you this way but, it’s the way you view things—so contradictory but hell, you can’t be blamed for believing this, probably an earlier heartbreak could be the cause.
“It’s not that easy, Shiro—you should’ve known the story better—”
“Well, I’m just giving you some advice and my thoughts about the situation—no harsh feelings, I swear!”
“Yeah, you do…” You closed your eyes as the bitterness of the alcohol was getting through you, feeling that burning sensation was too strong, strong enough to maybe forget what happened but it’s just making everything painful. Mashiro sends off a glare as she clicks her tongue of dismay, disapproving of your ways of approaching the situation.
“Look, she’s not going to just ditch you for a reason—maybe she’s just genuinely mad or something! Don’t you just want to talk to her and work this out?”
You laughed at her current suggestion as the pain inside you voiced out such hints of depressive emotions, “If it’s that easy, Shiro…”
As you’re about to take that another gulp of alcohol, Mashiro hits your hand with a furious demeanor (you’ll probably call it an adorable expression since she’s pretty much the epitome of it, in anything she do), not really having the fact that you’re trying to get wasted because of such pain in your heart.
“And alcohol’s not always the answer…”
“You don’t get it, Shiro.” You let out a deep sigh as your vexed emotions are starting to have a hit on you. Feeling genuinely concerned for you, Mashiro then looks at your eyes as her glowing orbs are trying to ignite the fire of delight that once invaded your heart.
“That’s why I’m here for you, as always.” Mashiro caresses your cheeks as she tries to comfort and reassure you and with her genuine attempts of making you feel loved, you can’t help but emanate such a faint smile, voicing out your gratefulness for Mashiro, in all times, even at both your lowest points, she always choose to comfort you first rather than herself and with that, you can’t help but think if you’re worth being such a good friend of hers.
She’s too down-to-earth and selfless, something you’d want to yourself but can’t help but path the opposite and that’s why you’re grateful for meeting such a lovely, thoughtful girl like Mashiro.
She’s built like no other and you can’t help but feel butterflies, the best ones, in a while…
“If you want, I can talk to her so the both of you can make this up—”
“No, Shiro—it’s our problem. You don’t really need to interfere—”
“But I want to help!” Mashiro yelled with hurt and anger filled in every emotion as she sheds a tear, feeling really genuine to not let his friend go to another depressive state and wanting your relationship to end just because of sheer stupidity and selfishness. “I d-don’t want you to feel shitty ever again—you mean a lot to me and it breaks me down when you’re down too, so, please…”
You close your eyes as you fight the emotions that've been battling around your body. It’s a quarrel, a conflict of love between the both of you and she shouldn’t be meddling between the both of you but when she’s shedding a tear, on her lowest and willing to truly help you, you can’t say no but you need to and there’s one thing you need to do to stop this melancholy.
An audible murmur can be heard as she was caught off-guard with your lips latching onto hers. In your whole life, right from the start that you knew her until now, you never shared such intimacy and hotness with Mashiro, but that streak ends now as you indulge with the taste of luscious lips and Mashiro further reciprocates with deepening the kiss. You don’t know if this is love or romance but one thing’s for sure, it’s all genuine and that’s what really matters. It didn’t take long before the both of you closed your eyes and let it all be felt coursing to your veins. It was lovely, affectionate and at the same time, wrong. 
There wasn’t anything wrong, maybe just unorthodox in your own words but nonetheless, you both love it and there’s no one holding you back.
There wasn’t any leverage to deepen the kiss if oxygen was lacking within your body, so, after a hot minute of sharing a kiss with Mashiro, you involuntarily pulled away from the warm embrace of it, gasping for air as you faintly smiled at her, feeling butterflies from the kiss.
“Gosh, I’m s-sorry, Shiro—I c-can’t help it—”
“Don’t—” Mashiro’s expression was stern as she didn't want any apologies coming out of your mouth because she seriously meant the reciprocation of the kiss.
“What d-do you mean “Don’t.”?”
She didn’t answer but rather, her lips spoke the actions clearer as such acts are better than words. Further indulging onto the intimate kiss, again, you directed your hands onto the back of waist as the resurgence of need instantly fueled you onto the enamored oblivion of your now so-called definition of ‘love’. It didn’t just stay there, because with tongues battling for dominance as a starting action on this show, you demonstrate such skillful acts of dance towards Mashiro and she took this as hint of stride as she fixes her position and further submit onto such lustful acts of dominance as not so long after, the both of you pulled out again, in need of better respiration. It wasn’t such a detachment that was thoroughly distant against each other because the both of you still peck each other’s lips as the both of you voiced out your frustrations and emotions that you’ve long shackled since day one.
“You c-can’t be this oblivious—hah…”
“And I’m so fucking stupid for not knowing anything genuine, Mashiro—do I even deserve you?”
“Shut up—” Mashiro did it herself as she invaded the caldera of your mouth with another intimate kiss but it didn’t last very long, as she opted for more ways and possible propositions you wanted to do with her. 
Everything happened way too quick but honestly, that was just the tip of the iceberg because you really felt surprised (mostly her since you’re the one who initiated the sudden kiss) and the peculiar feeling of love. You never knew how much she sparked you with her charms and affection because you were too oblivious to know anything besides just seeing her as a friend.
You still love her but Mashiro—it’s goddamn difficult to choose but you can’t be arsed to really think about her when Mashiro’s now clouding your whole mind and with a given conclusion (for now), you averted all of your attention to her only.
Maybe it’s time for another bewildering awakening…
“You kiss me really good…”
“Did I? I w-wasn’t even sure—”
Mashiro shuts you up with her index finger laying down your lips, silencing you for such loathing remarks that she hates to hear. “Say something like that again and I’ll punch you.”
You scoff and laugh a little, her sarcastic attempts at being aggressive is so adorable that you want to kiss her again and show how much you loved it. “Okay, Shiro—I’m sorry, hah. You’re a great kisser too, honestly—I’m sorry, I’m just new to this f-feeling.”
She can hear you tremble because of such nervousness and honestly, she understands you because she’s in the same boat with you—her lips trembling in delight after such intimate kisses shows how much serotonin coursed over her body too that she doesn’t know what to really feel either. Blushing from your earlier compliments, she covered her face as she did so, knowing how she’s feeling a little embarrassed being complimented, especially by you. Even with how wholesome this is going, you can’t help but imagine the lustful fantasies you could with her but it’s only a matter of time until you—
“B-but can I confess something t-to you?” You got all of your ears and eyes on her, giving her the green light with a simple ‘yes’ as she proceeds with her wants.
“I wanted to do something but I don’t know if you want to do it…”
If this is what you think it is, then this is the time, a preferably lucky jackpot that you’ve wanting for so long—
“Go on, Shiro—no matter what can that be, I’m all ears—”
“I—you—I w-want to su—”
“Suck me off?”
Mashiro, stunned with your predictive advancements, gasped almost inaudibly as her mouth hung agape from your vulgar words in which, she didn’t mind because that’s exactly what she’s thinking off and it was a gamble—you didn’t want to end this note as Mashiro becomes uncomfortable with you but that’s not really the case because if people knew how she’s much more open about these sexual desires, then they’ll never look the same way like ever before.
Now, it’s not just going to stay in her imagination, let alone viewing it on such blue, pixelated screens and it’s just about time for everything to be in reality.
“H-how did you know?”
“Maybe you’re too readable—I can sense it, Shiro. I know you well, too.”
Mashiro was a bit caught off-guard with that but nonetheless, she trusts you so, she became open and wanted to try it out and maybe even more.
“But you wanted this, don’t y-you?”
The both of you didn’t mind anything as the spacious rooftop allows so much things to be let out, even with the most sinful profanities you had in mind but that (most of it), will be directed towards discomfort, which is the last thing you’d want. Now, pinning her onto the concrete wall as you swivel and repositioned yourself onto the more dominating spot of the act, you smirked as you set yourself on an answer that’ll rock her world: “More than anything, Shiro—I’ve always wanted to know how it’ll feel inside your possibly tight mouth.”
With such hot and erotic words escaping your mouth and the things happening escalating quicker than what she expected it to be, she can’t help but bite her bottom lip and let out needy whines that further puts salt onto the wound of lust. With how great she felt when kissing you, you can’t possibly brush off the fact that her mouth will possibly feel great on your length too but don’t let this be settled just on your imagination—make it a reality you can possess and cherish.
“Kneel down, Shiro—” You quickly unbuttoned your pants as she helped you with that, her hands doing such a magnificent job at it as all you can just sense is the cold air permeating your skin. As soon as your last restraint was about to be undressed and on your ankles, you knew the show would soon be starting and with one, swift motion, it was all off.
Kneeling down (she didn’t mind the cold concrete of the rooftop as her focus is now fully averted onto your erecting shaft), she traces her fingers from base up to the tip, leaving a tingle of an electric charge that makes you moan in sensitivity and delight. Her eyes traced your shaft, every inch of it as admiration was evident on her glowing orbs and it’s just going to get better than this. 
“T-this was way better and weirder than I expected.”
“Don’t worry, you’ll get used to this, probably…”
And now, she succumbed to her biggest anticipation—your cock, inside her mouth and instantly, she gagged as she took the whole length inside her tight cavern, making her eject out of it and coughed a little.
“Y-you didn’t need to do that, Shiro—don’t take it all, start with slow sucks and eventually gather the p-pace—oh god!”
She knew what would happen and rather, took that first attempt as a foolish remark from you and instantly, she hugged her plump lips around your tip as she bobbed her head with almost a stagnant pace and god, she’s surprisingly good at it. Maybe, don’t judge the book by its cover next time…
She lathers every inch of your throbbing length full of her saliva, not leaving any of it unsheathed with her drool as her tongue does wonders all over your mushroom tip, capable of sending such pleasure that earns the finest of moans from you, in which, made her flustered considering how she’s making you feel good. With such a gradually increasing pace and a wonderful manifestation of her skills, it actually made you love her even more as the sounds of her gags and deprivation makes everything even better. If you were to be fooled, you won’t even think it’s her first time because on how she’s sucks you off with care and intense pleasure—thanks to the suction of her mouth, it made everything completely off the charts and her lack of experience is evident with her serrated teeth coming over the way of scratching the skin but nonetheless she’s doing good (she’s trying her best not to hurt you even though hints of it are evident and unavoidable for now).
“God, how are you like—fuck—a-already doing good like this, Shiro?”
She took seconds to divert her attention away from your succulent shaft as she didn’t want the tempo to die soon but nonetheless, she pulled out of your saliva-filled length and responded, “Toys—I f-felt a little kinky and decided t-to really practiced a little…”
“Hah—no wonder why you’re sometimes acting strange, huh? Feeling exhausted randomly now I know why…”
Mashiro just brushed off your words as her mouth does such great work onto the wholeness of your shaft, despite only playing it safe and taking only half of it—you could just imagine how better she’s going to be if the both of you consider this as a frequent routine every week. In every stroke she does, it brings utmost pleasure to you as well as her talented mouth being the icing of the top of the cake and it’s just a wonderful sight to see. You could see the tears flowing down her cheeks as the constant gags she does was the reason and it just arouses you further—her sullied façade adding up to the arousing sight is such a fulfillment of wonder and sin. Her saliva makes everything a mess, scattered all over the vicinity of your shaft as this is just hot to handle but there’s no intention of stopping because neither party wanted anything to end so early and to be deprived immediately. It wasn’t long until you grab her head for leverage from the pleasure you’ve been experiencing as she grabs your hips for her own leverage onto better service. You’re not going to last long, you could already feel it and thankfully, she pulls out of your length with a pop that make your cock twitch, not to mention how the string of saliva being connected to her lips and onto your mouth makes the scene such epitome of such sexiness and seduction. As she’s about to let her warm lips be in contact with your length again, you stop her as you propose something to her.
“Don’t—I w-want to fuck you now, Shiro. You could taste my load anytime soon but not now.”
Of course, it’s not surprising that she didn’t like the thought that she didn’t get to finish you off all by herself as she also knows how vulnerable your defenses are—on the verge of cumming with nothing left to do but succumb onto it but thankfully, you fought it as you didn’t want this to be over.
“B-but I want to taste you, or make you paint my face—”
“But you’re insatiable, Shiro—I want to fuck you now, from behind.”
She knows how well she turned you on and you know how much she wants this even though she can define such hypocrisy laced between her words. The both of you know how much you need each other but not how much you want each other—and now with no one to stop you, this is everything you’ve been wanting to win and you're not going to lose anything anyway.
“Honestly, I’d want you to fuck me—I won’t turn that down but I’d want it somewhere else, for now.”
Now rising up on her feet, Mashiro wipes her knees as she faces you and whispered seductively, “I want you to fuck my thighs instead, since you’ve been eyeing on them since earlier.”
That is an offer you can’t turn down since her thighs are considerably one of her best features that you’d want to feast upon and worship, when given the time but honestly, you’d love to ram the possibly tight pussy but if that’s what Mashiro wants, then that’s what you need to attend to and fulfill it with no hesitation—you yourself adore the thought of fucking her thighs. Now facing the wall, her hands resting onto it and her back arched, it didn’t take long before you line up your saliva-sheathed cock between those pillowy muscles, submerging them into no-return.
“This could’ve been better on the window, Shiro.”
“Why though? Hah—that feels good…”
With such a sluggish pace, you can’t help but feel an incredible surge of pleasure as the softness of her thighs and the heat emanating between it (thank god she’s wearing a skirt so nothing became a struggle) aiding that long-awaited serotonin. Now hiking that skirt of hers right up to her waist, she yelped as the cold air brushed against her skin that made her more sensitive as your thrusts added up to that profound pleasure she’s experiencing. Even without the stimulation on her clit, she can’t help but feel great as the wetness of her folds are enough evidence as from time to time, you feel her nectar dripping down her thighs and onto your raging length.
Her thighs do wonders all over you and you can’t help but let out the most erotic moans in every oscillation your hips do. 
This is crazy but you’re an unstoppable force now as no one can make you hinder your carnal desires.
“God—you’re dripping already, Shiro? My dick must’ve turned you on so much, hm?”
Mashiro just can’t help but whimper in need between every second that has passed, almost ignoring you yet she’s not that girl that’ll fall deaf on her ears. “Y-you don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for this—even just in my thighs, you already feel good.”
With her encouraging words of lust, you can’t stop yourself from doing what’s been boggling your mind and with her cheeks presented all over your sight, you slapped her butt with a harsh spank as she yelped in response, the sudden surge of pleasure and pain contradicting what she's feeling right now.
“Fuck—why’d you slap me like that?”
“You don’t want it, Shiro? It’s okay, I won’t d—”
“I never said I didn’t like i-it—oh god, do it again, please!”
With your ruthless pace between her thighs are the constant harsh slaps that resonated around your ears, bringing music onto such lustful profanities that has been fueling you since the beginning, you can’t help but just maintain the tempo as there’s no point of stopping as Mashiro doesn’t even bother to even stop you as she herself, is now aiding for your pleasure and to reach your high as soon as possible. With her wiggling and thrusts of her pillowy butt and her thighs further amplifies the pace with such great trajectory, achieving a series of rough thrusts you never thought was possible and you’re loving every second of it.
“Y-yeah, Shiro—we should’ve done this somewhere that has a window—”
“For what?”
With your hands averting its attention towards her toned waist and to fix her hair in order for it to fall onto her left shoulder, you lean in and whisper another set of dirty thoughts that makes her enlightened, “Because I want them to know how much you’ll love this and when I cum, I’ll spray it all on the window and let you kneel down to taste it.”
Now Mashiro, being enlightened with such a kinky thought of yours, hints a bit of regret for not doing this somewhere as her imagination wildens with your lustful words, making her heat drip even more, aiding for more comfort and lubricant on your reckless length.
“Maybe even do i-it on a mirror, so you could also see my face when you thrust on my thighs.”
“Even going to be better if it’s in your pussy but fuck, Shiro—that’s hot and shit—I’m not going to last that long, t-too—shit!”
That is a hot scene probably urging you to even fuel your thighfuck kink but the inevitable will soon come, ending your masterclass and the long-lived pleasure that has been coursing through your veins. She sensed it too as your constant throbbing can be felt between her thighs and to further chase your orgasm, she clamped her thighs even tighter around your rock-hard cock as she moans for you, voicing out your incredible work of sin and to fuel you even more—not to mention her hands constants touching her breasts in order to stimulate herself and earn some pleasure too. With constant spanks, your mouth marking her nape and peppering it with kisses, it wasn’t long until you achieved the desired promised land and within a single blink, you let everything out. 
She wiggle her thighs, massaging your orgasmic sensation as every spurt lets out such angelic moans coming out of your mouth as this is such an experience to behold and cherish. Even though your cum was such a waste considering how you just sprayed the concrete wall instead of maybe letting herself taste your succulent, long-awaited seed but nonetheless, it was an euphoric experience you’ll never forget and with such exhaustion, you pulled out of the valley of her thick, meaty thighs as she turned around, and initiated another kiss as she felt delightful with her needs sustained by you.
“Fuck—I’m sorry ‘bout that, Shiro. I can’t help it and I should’ve let you taste it—”
“No, it’s fine, honestly. I never thought a real cock would feel that good, and it feels kinda weird but good too.”
You laughed as you caressed her hair, emanating a smile that became contagious as you reassured her, “We’ll probably get used to this but for now, I think we need to get out of here…”
Mashiro realizes that the both of you are somewhat, still in a public place as you dressed your bottom-half up and hurriedly fixed yourselves as you prepare to come down and to do such things the both of you had been longing for.
What day to remember, this is… and it’s still not done as the night is still young…
---
“Fuck, baby—go harder on my thighs!”
“Of course, Shiro—fuck, you’re so hot…”
And it was later fulfilled as the both of you became so derived onto the profound lust earlier that you needed to attend to each other’s needs again, and this time, it’s better since everything is just going according to plan.
Just as how the both of you liked it: against the mirror, Mashiro’s back arched as you fuck her thighs recklessly from behind and as the cherry on top, her ahegao face and her expression that further sends your arousal into oblivion. The pace was incredibly and pleasurably fast, executed with such techniques that furthers makes the best for the both of you and not just some any dumb and fast ones—the further alteration of fast strokes and then succumbing onto a sluggish pace is what makes this better.
Mashiro’s cheeks are now filled with your handprints, skin’s a shade of a familiar rosy hue as every spanks delivers such erotic moans right from her mouth. She was now long-lost with your control, fully submitting onto her own animalistic urges as she encourages you onto upping the pace, to further chase another orgasm. She squeezes her thighs oh-so-tightly around your cock, suffocating it and giving you the maximum pleasure you could attain and probably, foreshadowing the possible tightness of her pussy in which, will be attended in no time but for now, you gotta let her know how great your hips are when ensuing such mind-blowing thrusts.
The constant rhythmic contact of your skin orchestrate such genre of music that no one could possibly define, maybe close as an erotic soundtrack but it’s more—it’s a state of bliss; a lustful trance to treasure and succumb into and you’re just onto that trance with no point of turning back.
There wasn't much talking (more of just moans, groans and whines) as actions speak louder than words, the oscillation of your hips manifesting such divine bliss that benefits the both of you and your needs. You could definitely feel how close you are, again and no one can blame you because with these godlike, perfectly-thick thighs and the softness of it can make anyone succumb onto it and shower it with affection because of how perfectly sculpted it is. Gladly, you’re the only one who can utilize this gift and you’re not planning on giving it away—only you.
“F-fuck, Shiro—I’m going to cum, again—fuck!”
“Spray it all over the mirror, baby. Come on, cum for me—blow your thick, creamy load all over my thick thighs and onto the mirror, please—please cum—”
With your harsh grip on her hips and one, last harsh spank, you bury your whole length onto the warm valley of her thighs as you erupt multiple shots of semen onto the mirror, making it splatter all over the reflective object as it drips down eventually. Without even commanding her to kneel down, she does it ahead of what you’re thinking, as she seductively swirl and lick her tongue all over it, collecting every semen sample on the mirror and not wasting anything, not even a single drop. With her half-naked body knelt down, licking the mirror clean like she’s not having enough of a five-star meal and licking her plate for further conclusive delightment and that alone, makes you throb even more. After she’s done, she stood up and then showed her tongue that was filled with cum and will one, single gulp, it was all gone and now onto her stomach.
“Fuck—that tasted good, baby.”
Smiling from her complimentary advances, she’s missing one thing and you’re more likely to address it now, knowing she’ll ultimately fulfill what you’re going to command her.
“Don’t you mind cleaning my cock?”
“Oh yes, absolutely. I’m dying to taste your delicious dick, again.”
She parts her lips onto your tip, and up to the base, licking it clean as no cum remains uncollected with her talented tongue and with just little time, she pulled out of your length, showing you her masterwork—your length is now crystal-clear, shining with her saliva emanated thanks with the dim lights from above. Standing up, you pinned against the wall and whispered into her ear, painting a smirk on your face, “We’re just getting started, Shiro.”
“I know, baby—then make me yours for the night. There’s still plenty of time to do everything we may think of…”
419 notes · View notes
sydnikov · 11 months
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Jersey || J. Hughes
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Author: Sydney / @sydnikov
Pairing: Jack Hughes/fem!Reader
Word Count: 5.5k
Summary: You and Jack got into a fight before he left for a game. To get back at him, you showed up at the bar you knew the Devils frequented after they won a game wearing the other team’s jersey. Only, a fan of said-team’s jersey gets a little too handsy, and even when fighting, Jack won’t stand for another man touching his girl.
Warnings: Cursing, alcohol consumption, touching w/out consent, mild and/or potential assault, kissing, mild angst, lots of fluff at the end
A/N: This is purely self-indulgent… Though I am a little nervous because I’ve never been a Jack Hughes girlie until recently, plus before my beloved hurricanes eliminated the devils I was battling my growing hatred for him LMAO but, anyways, I still have never written for him before, so lemme know what y’all think about this one... Happy reading <3
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“Are you done yet?” Jack Hughes said as he raced around the apartment looking for his bag, briefly casting you a look of irritation as he rushed by.
Scowling, you merely spun around to follow his movements. “Did you even hear a word I just said?”
Jack released a sound of triumph as he found his bag by the couch and threw it over his shoulder. “About what?” he asked, purposefully dodging the topic you were trying to hint at. “You bitching about my ‘nighttime activities’ again?” he muttered, intending to just push back your problem with him for another day.
“I heard that,” you hissed, taking brief satisfaction in the way his neck flushed red at being caught. “So, what, I’m just some nagging girlfriend to you, then? Is that it?”
Jack sighed, rubbing a hand down his face as he tied the last lace on his shoe. “I don’t know, babe,” he said. “Can we just do this later?” Finally, he met your eyes for the first time that evening and found stubbornness and frustration staring back at him.
“So you can stay out until four in the morning again doing God knows what?” You scoffed, crossing your arms.
Jack, fed up, stood up and merely shook his head. He said your name through gritted teeth, a spark of genuine anger showing for the first time since starting this conversation. “I have a game to get to. I don’t know what your problem is but you’re really getting on my nerves right now and I really don’t want to hear it.”
Jack, feeling slightly guilty at the way he just spoke to you but not wanting to be the first to apologize, deliberately avoided looking at your face before grabbing his phone and marching out the door, slamming it shut behind him.
“Fuck,” he muttered, tugging at his hair once before releasing a strained breath. Not able to stop himself, Jack looked back at your shared apartment and debated being late to his game just to talk to you, but his stubbornness ultimately won out and with one shake of his head, he tried to cast you and your fight out of his mind until after he came home.
You’d still be there, waiting for him like always, after all, right?
You, meanwhile, stared at the door your boyfriend had just walked through in shock. Anger, frustration, confusion, and the strongest of them all: hurt, rolled through you in waves as you processed the conversation that just happened.
And the ‘problem’ you had with Jack, exactly?
It started out small—nothing huge, or anything. Jack didn’t have many red flags, if any at all – unless you counted him being a professional hockey player – so the fact that you’d been having so many problems recently was a mystery to you, as well.
Well, your relationship had just reached the 1-year milestone, and you only moved in together about a month ago… That’s when you started having problems, you supposed.
Jack’s season playing for the New Jersey Devils had started out strong immediately, and it was clear this was going to be one of his best seasons yet if not the best. The NHL was booking interviews with him, the Devils’ social media had practically turned into a Jack fan page, and the city had just fallen in love with him.
He absorbed the attention like a sponge, of course, like he couldn’t get enough of it. While he was clearly riding the high of being such a hot player right now, he hadn’t ever let it get to his head. His teammates, family, you, would never let him hear the end of it if his ego got too big.
So, here begs the question: why was Jack coming home later and later, texting you when away less, coming up with excuses on why he had to bail on weekly date nights?
Your insecurities had been eating you up lately, and the fact that Jack didn’t even see the problem made it worse. Was he cheating on you? You couldn’t help but ask yourself during many late nights, curled up in the bed you shared, alone, staring at the digital clock on the bedside table as the hours crept by.
Inhaling a shaky breath, you wiped at your eyes before finally tearing them away from the front door after accepting he wasn’t coming back. Making your way to the kitchen, you poured yourself a glass of water to cool your heated body when the vibration of your phone from your pocket interrupted you.
Feeling your heart swell with the hope that maybe it was Jack, you quickly pulled it out only to be disappointed when it was just one of your friends—then you felt bad for feeling disappointed because you loved your friends, as pushy as they could be, sometimes.
Want to hit up a bar? Is what one of them texted in a group chat with you and a few others. Normally, on a night like this where you were wallowing in the emptiness felt by Jack’s continued absence, you’d deny such an offer and merely drown yourself in the cheap wine you kept stashed, but…
A notification from a Devils news site interrupted your thoughts, and that’s where a devious idea struck your mind. Your boyfriend’s team was playing the Philadelphia Flyers tonight, a division rival, and you just so happened to have a close friend who was from the area.
I’m in, you responded to the group chat and couldn’t help but laugh at the string of fire emojis that followed. Wiping the remaining tears from your eyes, you texted said-Philly friend separately and asked if she had any jerseys she’d be willing to spare.
The text bubble that showed she was typing appeared, and then her response came. I have a Konecny jersey. Why?
Perfect.
Two hours later, you were in an Uber on your way to the designated club for the night which just so happened to be a bar that your boyfriend and his teammates frequented after a win. You sported black flared jeans and stilettos, and the star piece of your whole look: a Philadelphia Flyers jersey stamped with Travis Konecny’s name.
You wholeheartedly intended for Jack to see it to rile him up; he had a vicious jealousy streak, and a time like this was the perfect time to ignite it, especially after the 7-0 shutout win they took tonight.
Once you arrived, you tipped the Uber driver and walked in, a happy sway to your step because you felt like you were finally gaining the upper hand in your little feud with your boyfriend. As you walked into the club you were immediately bombarded with the sounds of booming music and flashing lights—the red-to-orange jersey ratio was almost comical, for the amount of ecstatic Devils fans far beat the few Flyers fans scattered throughout the room.
Drunken cheers of your name made you giggle as you found the table your friends had claimed. Like almost every patron in the bar, they were all sporting New Jersey Devils' colors or merch in some way—except for you and the friend who lent you the jersey you were currently wearing, of course.
“Never took you for a Philly fan,” said one of the girls, followed by several agreements. “What’s Jack gonna say when he sees you?”
So he was here, then, you hummed to yourself, briefly scanning the room for any sign of the team. “He’s here already?” you casually asked, leaning back against the booth and sipping on the drink one of your friends handed you.
“Yeah, they’re over in the booth across from us,” they pointed, helping you locate a large group of men and women who you, sure enough, identified as New Jersey Devils players and fan girls hanging off their arms. Feeling your heart seize up because what if Jack had someone hanging off of him, you only released the breath you’d been holding when you saw him near the back of the group talking to Nico.
Your friends saw the brief look of trepidation on your face and didn’t take long to fit the puzzle pieces together. “Are you and Jack still having problems?”
Smiling bitterly, you only shrugged. “Nothing too bad, really. I just want to get back at him for taking me for granted, y’know?”
Immediately, more shots were ordered and you couldn’t help but grin as you tossed the alcohol down your throat, feeling immensely better with the slight buzz that came after.
More confident, too.
Tossing your hair over your shoulder, you announced you were going to the bathroom but merely used it as an excuse to walk by the Devils group, intent on catching your boyfriend’s eye.
Feeling an arm brush against you, you were momentarily distracted when you turned around to find a man about your age looking down at you with a grin that told you he was already several shots ahead of you. He was sporting a Flyers jersey, too.
“You from Philly?” you think the man asked, but it was hard to understand the slur of his words over the loud boom of the music.
You gave him a tightlipped smile before giving your response. Despite the fact you were on a mission to make your boyfriend jealous, you weren’t actually wanting nor intending to cross a line. “No,” you shrugged, taking a small step back. “But I can still be a fan, right?”
As the man laughed, you turned your head back towards where you last saw Jack and sucked in a breath when you saw the look on his face.
Jack had seen you the moment you walked into the bar. He was just drawn to you like that, noticed every little detail about you—including the bright orange Flyers jersey you were currently wearing that made him clench his hand around his drink so hard the glass almost shattered.
What the fuck? He practically growled as he watched you walk up to your friends without sparing him a glance. You hadn’t noticed him yet, and he wasn’t sure if that made him feel relieved or guilty, because what were you even doing here? You normally always stayed in.
Then Jack had the realization that oh, yeah, you did always stay in—because of him, his schedule, his late nights, and he couldn’t even be bothered to come home to you until the early hours of the morning.
Well then, he thought. That solved the mystery of why you’d been so pissed off at him lately.
The forward anxiously ran a hand through his hair. He couldn’t blame you, either.
“Why do you look like you just fucked up?” Nico’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts, and Jack only cast him a quick glance before relocating you just as you stood up from your booth.
“Because I did,” he said, not taking his eyes off of you as some idiot wearing a Flyers jersey grabbed your attention. “Badly. Very badly.”
Nico followed his teammate’s gaze, furrowing his brow in confusion until he saw you, wearing a—
“Oh,”
Jack had the face of one who couldn’t decide if he wanted to kill you or the guy next to you who still hadn’t taken the hint that you weren’t nearly as interested in him as he was in you. The centerman’s eyes were abnormally dark in the club’s dim lighting, simmering with jealousy and protectiveness.
But that was the entire point of coming here tonight, wasn’t it?
Plastering on a wide, fake smile, you met your boyfriend’s searing gaze and merely shot him a pointed look before attempting to make conversation with the inadvertently talkative man still blabbering on beside you.
He was handsome in a rugged kind of way if you were into that sort of thing, and towered over you in both height and weight much like Jack, but whereas with your boyfriend the size difference made you feel safe and protected, this guy just made you feel smothered and uncomfortable.
He was well past drunk, though, so you figured he couldn’t do that much harm. You hadn’t let him come very close to you either and were trying to maintain a respectful distance knowing Jack was probably having a very hard time restraining himself from marching over and making a scene.
You were just trying to get back at him, as petty as it may be…
The man whose name you later found out to be Todd managed to keep a fifteen-minute conversation going on about himself – which you found mildly impressive – so when he finally started to trail off, you began to make your escape.
“Nice talking with you, but my friends are probably looking for me,” you said, dodging Todd’s attempts at trying to touch you.
“Awe, c’mon, babe, I’m sure they don’t care,” Todd tried to wink, but it looked like he was having some type of muscle spasm instead. You nervously laughed, trying to back away, but then he suddenly stepped in front of you and got so close you could smell the alcohol on his breath.
“Don’t be a tease, now,” he slurred, his eyes heavy-lidded and dark. You tried backing away, but quickly hit the counter of the bar where you were now caged in. Fuck, you gulped, feeling very uncomfortable as he crept his hands up your waist. “Get off me, please,” you said, trying to sound stern, but even you could hear the shakiness in your words.
Panicked, your eyes darted around the room looking for any of your friends you came with or even any of the guys you passed earlier, but in the darkness of the club, you came up empty. You squeezed your eyes shut, feeling helpless and regretting all of your life choices leading up to this moment, and tried to get away from the face that was steadily creeping closer until you heard a voice all too familiar.
A thunderous voice suddenly boomed over the music, and your eyes shot open in shock at the sight in front of you.
“Get the fuck off of her,” Jack's voice was livid, the edges of a growl erupting from his chest as you watched his hand clamp down on Todd’s shoulder to forcefully yank him away. “Ever heard of consent, asshole?”
You watched, stunned, as your boyfriend’s dark eyes glared daggers into Todd’s whose collar was currently in his grasp. Jack might have been a few inches shorter, but he was stronger and clearly more sober as Todd stumbled in his grasp.
“Dude, chill,” you sucked in a breath as he tried pleading with your murderous-looking boyfriend. “I didn't know she was your girl,” trying to get away from a potential brawl, you stumbled back and in your confusion ran right into someone.
Having just been practically assaulted, you jumped as a hand came to rest on your shoulder. You were sure you resembled something of a startled animal and felt almost embarrassed at the situation you found yourself in.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay, it’s just me!” Nico’s reassuring voice immediately had you relaxing, and you released a breath as you spun around to face him. Gladly taking the arm the captain offered, you smiled shakily.
“You okay?” He asked once you were safely next to him. You nodded slowly, blinking past the slight pounding of your head. “Yeah,” you replied, your eyes finding Jack and Todd still exchanging heated words a few feet away.
They had won your attention back just in time for you to watch the centerman shove your drunken pursuer to the floor and then step away immediately before doing something worse.
Jack’s eyes quickly found yours as he brushed his hair away from his face, scanning up and down your body for any sign of injury. You knew he was furious with you, but even pissed beyond belief, he was still the most attractive man in the world to you because of how he put your safety and well-being first.
He walked up to you then, nodding his thanks to his teammate for keeping you safe before pulling you into his chest. “Are you okay?” He murmured into the top of your hair, one of his hands squeezing your hip reassuringly.
You inhaled your boyfriend’s scent, burying your face in his shirt and reveling in the comfort his mere presence brought you. “I’m okay,” you whispered, feeling tired now that the night’s events had started to catch up to you. “I love you,”
You felt him murmur the exact words back, the tension slowly leaving his body the longer he held you in his arms and away from the idiot who had his hands on you.
Jack stepped back after a moment, keeping you tucked into his side with a protective arm wrapped around your waist. You kept your face pressed into his side, not yet willing to face reality.
All you wanted right now was him. And your bed, too.
“We’re going to head home for the night,” the centerman said to the rest of the group, hearing no disagreements as they spoke their goodbyes. You lifted your head only slightly to say your own goodbye, giving an extra thankful smile to Nico who merely waved you off.
As you finished talking to the rest of his teammates, you tapped Jack's shoulder and spoke into his ear over the loud music. “I’m going to say bye to my friends real quick,”
Jack had a look of apprehension and even worry on his face, so you stood up on your toes to press a quick kiss to his lips. “I’ll be fast, okay?”
“Okay,” he said. “But nothing more than that. I’ll be by the door.”
You cast him a grateful smile before slipping away, locating two of your friends still sitting at the booth looking far more inebriated than before. “Jack and I are heading home,” you told them.
“Oh! You guys worked it out?”
You bit your lip, fiddling with one of your sleeves. Huh, orange wasn’t really your color.  “Not exactly,” quickly glancing back towards your boyfriend waiting by the club doors, you winced when you saw his darkened expression. “He’s a little angry with me…”
“Because of the jersey?” they asked, curious. “That’s what you wanted, right?”
You decided you were going to blame the hideous Flyers jersey you were wearing for the series of unfortunate events that happened tonight.
Speaking of, you needed to give it back to the friend who lent it to you, at some point.
“I’ll see you guys,” you muttered, purposefully dodging their questions as you waved goodbye. Luckily, they were too drunk to argue.
You made your way back through the crowd, Jack meeting you halfway to lace your fingers together before leading you to the exit. His pace was quick, and determined, making you wonder just what exactly he had planned.
The cold Jersey air sobered you immensely once you were outside, ridding you of the effects the alcohol had left on you earlier. You finally got a clear look at your boyfriend then, admiring the sharp cut of his jawline and the way he was still fuming even as you walked to his car.
“Jack?” you tried, watching as he pulled open the passenger door for you. “Get in,” he said, avoiding your imploring eyes. “And take that off. You know it looks awful,” he added the last part as an afterthought, scowling at the sight of you wearing a jersey sans his name.
You thought about making a joke but decided against it when you saw the look on his face. He didn't look like he was in the mood for games right now, and something told you you didn't want to test him.
“I’m not wearing anything underneath,” you responded meekly. You heard Jack sigh, and you briefly looked up to find him pulling out a hoodie he had in his backseat.
It was red, of course, a Devils hoodie with his surname printed on the back. The hockey player stared at you, arms crossed and eyebrows raised and that's when you realized he was waiting.
“What, you mean change now?” you squeaked, feeling your eyes widen at the seriousness in his eyes. “Jack, we’re in a public parking lot,”
“And?” he asked, almost sassy considering the situation. “You really think I’ll let anyone look at you?” his muscled arms tensed out of reflex, further cementing his point.
You clenched your jaw, opening your mouth to argue, but then Jack took two quick strides towards you until you were standing chest-to-chest.
He said your name once, placing his hands on your waist to pull you closer. “I almost beat that guy back in the bar to death for placing his hands on you. I would have, actually, if it weren’t for seeing you look so scared next to Nico,” he murmured, staring into your eyes so deeply you couldn’t look away.
“It’s bad enough having to see you wear our rival’s jersey, which I deserve, by the way, because I’ve been an ass to you—but if I have to see you wearing someone’s name that isn’t my own for the rest of the night any longer, I might commit a crime.
“Please,” he breathed, tilting his head downwards to brush your lips together. “Take off the damn jersey.”
All you could do was nod. Yes sir. You maintained eye contact all while you slipped the jersey from your shoulders, feeling immensely better without the scratchy fabric on your skin. Jack wordlessly handed you his hoodie, and you slid it on without complaint.
It was several sizes too big for you; it was loose around your waist and hips and the sleeves were too long for your arms, but you didn’t care one bit because it smelled just like him and made you feel safe and warm and most importantly:
Home.
Jack raked his eyes up and down your body in approval, but he was still tense even as he opened the passenger door for you and shut it once you were in without a word.
You had a feeling you were going to be in for it when you got home, and even with his anger – whether it was directed at you or himself – you didn’t quite blame him.
The only thing you weren’t quite sure of is if he was angry because you semi-flirted with another man or wore a jersey that wasn’t his… Both are completely plausible possibilities.
Jack, meanwhile, had to stop himself from looking your way because he knew he was going to snap, and that wasn’t fair on you. Yes, he had to sit back and watch another guy blatantly hit on you while wearing the opposing team’s jersey, but… You didn’t reciprocate any advances, and he would never fault you for the actions of another.
Just the mere thought of the jackass who had his hands on you made his knuckles turn white on the grip he had on the steering wheel. If not for the terrified look on your face to snap him out of it, he had no doubt he would have pummeled the guy to the ground.
And at the same time, he knew he wasn’t angry with you but angry with himself instead because you had done nothing to warrant his behavior towards you and could even go as far as to say he deserved it, too.
He just wished he hadn’t walked out on you before—you wouldn’t have been almost assaulted if he hadn’t.
Alas, his anger – no matter who it was directed at – radiating off of him in waves was palpable and kept you tense and unsure of what to say or do the entire ride home.
When you finally arrived back at the apartment, the two of you remained silent as you worked around each other in getting ready for bed. For the first time in months he was going to fall asleep in the same bed as you, at the same time, you noted.
The brooding centerman muttered something aloud from the other side of the room, and you looked at him questionably. Jack met your eyes, an emotion unknown brewing in his own that made you curious.
“Orange is such an ugly color,” he said. “What convinced you to even wear that?”
A teasing mood he was in, then. “To make you jealous. Did it work?”
Jack scoffed, taking a few steps forward to playfully grab at your hips causing you to grip his biceps for stability. “It worked, alright,” he murmured, and then his eyes turned dark as he remembered the night’s end result before the two of you left. “I would’ve pummeled him if it weren’t for the guys.”
You bit your lip at the sight of his protectiveness for you written all over his face, hating that you were having a serious conversation now and all you could think about was how attractive he is.
“Then you would have gotten arrested, and probably suspended from the team,” you replied, bringing his attention back to you. Jack cracked a small smile, hair falling over his eyes as his gaze dropped.
“Worth it.” your boyfriend then brought you in close to wrap his arms around you, burying his head in his favorite spot where your neck met your shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he whispered after a moment, his grip on you tightening.
You had no complaints at his sudden burst of physical affection and happily burrowed your head in his chest, breathing in his comforting scent. “For what?”
You might have accepted the fact he was trying to make up for all the fighting over the last few months, but you weren’t just going to let it go, either.
After all, it was only due to you going out of your way to invoke such a strong reaction that got him to pull his head out of his ass.
“For everything,” his mind raced over all the ways he had been treating you wrongly, and had a hard time forming his words in such a way that covered it all. “For never coming home to you, and acting like you were ridiculous for feeling insecure,” he quickly clarified.
You made a noncommittal noise, muffled by the fabric of his shirt your face was pressed against. “I felt crazy—still do feel kind of crazy,” the tears came back then, the emotions – anger, frustration, sadness, fear – of the night catching up to you. “Did I… Was I doing something wrong?”
Jack felt his heart break at the sheer amount of emotion in your voice, and while knowing that the alcohol in your system was partly to blame for your unfiltered honesty, he knew the words you were speaking were still true.
He had to approach this conversation delicately.
He whispered your name, bringing a hand up to cup your cheek and sliding it under your chin so you’d meet his eyes. “Hey, hey, don’t cry, okay? I hear you. You’re valid, how you’re feeling is valid.
“I’m the stupid one, okay? You did nothing wrong. Absolutely nothing. Well—except for wearing that jersey. But, hey, I don’t even blame you for that, either. I deserved it, yeah?”
“I’m sorry,” you said, not willing to accept his apology because you still felt like he was being too forgiving.
Jack, not being able to stand you hiding from him, gently brought both his hands to your face so he could bring you closer and press a kiss to your lips. “Stop demeaning yourself. You’re better than that—certainly better than me.”
Your laugh was shaky, remnants of tears in your voice undeniable. “I don’t know. I wore that stupid jersey, after all. To make you mad. Deliberately.”
“And it worked,” he replied, refusing to let you shy away from him when you tried ducking your head again. “Very well, in fact. It was really smart, actually; I’m almost proud of you for thinking of it.”
Jack was already making you feel miles better compared to how you were feeling before, and you knew he was using his humor on purpose. His corny jokes were what drew you to him in the first place, after all.
“Almost proud?” you couldn’t help but tease back. “Maybe I should wear a Hurricanes jersey next time. Ooh, or the Rangers,”
The centerman had enough then, and with a wicked grin threw you over his shoulder to bring you into the bathroom. You weren’t drunk, but you were a bit tipsy, and he just wanted to use it as an excuse to really take care of you.
He also just felt really bad, like a shitty boyfriend, too. He had a lot of making up to do and knew this was only the first step.
“There will be no jerseys owned by you unless they are Devils’ red and have my name on the back, yeah?” you pouted as he set you down on the counter next to the sink.
“Fine. Orange is an ugly color, anyways.”
Jack hummed in agreement as he wet a washcloth with warm water and then began to gently wipe down your face. He worked in silence, concentrated on the task at hand while you just admired his face.
Okay, yeah, you were still a little tipsy. Your boyfriend always looked good, but maybe it was just about what happened tonight that had you really appreciating his looks.
“What’re you staring at?” Jack said, biting his lip to hide the grin threatening to break through. He loved that you couldn’t keep your eyes off him.
“You,” you replied with no hesitation, giggling when he proceeded to wipe directly over your eye at your witty comment. “I can’t help it. You’re just so pretty. Why do you like me, again?”
Your boyfriend scoffed, tossing the washcloth somewhere on the sink before pulling you closer to him. “Pretty? What if I lose a tooth, would you still like me then?” he briefly washed his hands, and then turned back to you. “And why do I love you, you mean? That’s easy. Let me show you.”
“Show me?” you muttered, your brain still running slow. “What do you mean, ‘show me’—”
That’s when he interrupted you by picking you up, moving your legs to wrap around his waist before carrying you to the bed.
Jack kicked off his shoes before falling on his back first while taking you with him. You ended up sprawled on his chest, his arms holding you close as you tilted your head up to meet his eyes.
“Being able to manhandle me is why you love me?” you said teasingly. “Noted,”
The centerman groaned dramatically. Knowing you were about to speak, he interrupted your next sentence by kissing you and grinned into your lips when you sighed with pleasure and brought your hands up to tangle in his hair.
“Done being sassy now?” your boyfriend hummed as he slowly pulled back, looking every bit the mischievous devil as the team he played for.
“Hmm,” you blinked lazily, stretching as if you were a satisfied cat, and wrapped your arms around his neck to keep him close. “As long as you stay here with me,”
“I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”
A few minutes later of the two of you making up for lost time, you had eventually moved to be cuddling under the bed sheets as the little spoon, just how you liked it.
“Don’t wear that jersey again,” Jack grumbled into your neck, pressing a few butterfly kisses to the skin exposed to the air.
“Seriously?” you giggled, attempting to turn around in his arms but being stopped due to the strength of his hold.
“Dead serious. It almost killed me.”
You were used to his dramatics by now but knew he was speaking from his heart because jerseys really did mean a lot to sports players, hockey players especially. Wearing Jack’s name might have just been superficial, but it was still a sure thing and a testament to the seriousness of your relationship.
Wearing someone else’s name, especially someone from an opposing team, was an insult to that even though it was just a piece of clothing at the end of the day.
“Better stay on my good side, then,” you teased, but knew you wouldn’t ever wear any other jersey but Jack’s again. He learned his lesson, as did you.
Teasingly nipping at your neck, your boyfriend merely laughed before burying his head in your shoulder and closing his eyes.
You snuggled closer to the warm wall of muscle behind you, reveling in the comfort of knowing your relationship was stronger than ever.
“I love you,” you said, quietly, staring out the window as the stars looked down upon you.
“Love you, too,” Jack whined at the sharp pain he felt from your arm as it swatted at him, and then quickly clarified. “I mean, I love you—I love you, too!”
You grinned, and you knew he could practically feel it which made the small victory even more satisfactory.
Jack muttered something else under his breath, one word suspiciously sounding like ‘jersey’, and then he was out like a light.
Exasperatedly, you sighed. Hockey players.
You wouldn’t wear a jersey that didn’t have the name ‘Hughes’ and his number printed on it ever again.
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A/N: Did you guys like the missing tooth reference? One of my favorite lines in this tbh, I just love poking fun at situations like those lol. Anyways, please please please reblog and comment because it means the world to me and makes writing so much more worth it. I hope y’all enjoyed :))
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runnning-outof-time · 4 months
Note
The first of a few :)
Tommy- (3 word sentence prompt) “Happy or Sad?”
Thanks for sending this in Liz! I’m sorry it took me a bit to get to writing it. This is a COMPLETE flip from the fic I shared earlier haha. Also I have to say that the bit at the end was inspired by the lovely Bri @there-goes-thefighter ‘s latest Tommy fic ‘Your Shadow Side’…it’s a bit different here, but the idea was stuck in the back of my mind nonetheless. Enjoy! :)
I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!
Part of my 3.5k Celebration - find other stories here!
Bedtime Stories
Tommy Shelby x Reader & Daughter
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Warnings: none
Word Count: 797
Summary: Tommy gets asked a question that leaves him speechless while he’s telling his daughter a bedtime story.
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“I want daddy to tell me a story tonight!” Isabella Shelby exclaimed, stamping her foot on the ground as she looked up at her mother. Her little hands were balled up into fists, and the glare on her face was one that could even rival her father’s. Wonder who she got it from?
(Y/N) sighed and looked away from her four year old daughter, at her wits end now. It had been a long day. Isabella woke up in a grumpy mood, so everything had been a fight with her. On top of that, Matthew, her two year old son, had just figured out how to get into things, so she’d been following him around the house to make sure he didn’t hurt himself or break anything.
“Dad’s busy with his work at the moment, darling,” she tried to reason with the child.
Isabella did not listen. “I’m going to go ask him,” she insisted, turning on her heel then so that she could make her way down the hall to the door of her father’s office.
(Y/N) stayed in the hallway, her arms crossed over her chest as she heard the muffled exchange between her husband and child. A look of surprise formed on her face when Isabella emerged triumphant from the office moments later with Tommy following behind her. She’s wrapped around his finger, (Y/N) thought to herself with soft laugh.
“Time for bed?” Tommy questioned as he approached (Y/N), chuckling at the fact that Isabella had walked right passed her without a word.
“It is,” (Y/N) responded with a nod, her eyes wide as she conveyed her exasperation to him. Tommy sent her a soft grin before he continued to follow his daughter to her room.
Once Isabella was settled, Tommy got into telling an elaborate story about a princess who had to go and save her darling dog from the grasps of an evil king — they’d just taken in Cyril and the little girl was obsessed with all things related to dogs. Isabella listened intently to the story, reacting to all of the twists and turns that it had. That was the thing she loved most about her dad’s bedtime stories: no one was the same. (Y/N) swore that he could have made a career in writing them…if he hadn’t went down other paths that is.
“We’re reaching the ending now, love,” Tommy warned his daughter as he took a moment’s pause. A pout formed on Isabella’s face; she didn’t want the story to be over yet. “I need to ask you about the ending…”
“What about it?” Isabella interrupted before he could get to the question, her eyebrows furrowing as she titled her head slightly.
“Happy or sad?” he asked, his brows raised as he waited for her answer.
“Happy,” the little girl answered without second thought. Tommy nodded and prepared to end the story. Isabella spoke again before he could get a word out, “who would ever choose sad?” she asked, her question one of the most genuine ones Tommy had ever heard.
“I…” he began to answer, but his words died in his throat as he really thought about the question she asked. He shook his head and ran his hand along his jaw, trying to think of a response that was worthy of such a question. “Someone who isn’t quite sure what happy is, I’d guess,” he finally responded, not sure if what he decided on was even good enough.
Isabella thought about it for a second, her pondering starkly present in her facial expression. “Well that isn’t us, right, daddy?” she then sweetly asked, her doe eyes finding his again.
In that moment, all the bad that Tommy Shelby had done was washed away. All the struggle and strife, the bad blood and the tunnels were the furthest thing from his mind. Now all that was present was the world that his darling daughter was imagining. One that only held good, one where everything ended happy. He was so thankful for her innocence, for the light that she brought into his life.
The slightest smile graced his lips as he shook his head ever so slightly. “No, love…that isn’t us,” he answered her as he sat a loving hand on her blanket covered knee. His smile grew with each second their eyes stayed connected, and he thanked whoever was mainf decisions in the sky for giving him this beautiful little girl.
“Are you gonna finish the story, dad?” Isabella asked, cutting through Tommy’s thoughts and bringing him back to reality.
Her expectant look made him laugh as he nodded his head. “Yeah, I’m gonna finish the story,” he answered her before going on with the happy ending she’d asked for.
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wanderersbell · 1 year
Text
when he lets you wear his hat
wanderer x gn!reader
genre: fluff
warnings: dark humor (just in the beginning)
word count: 1168
a/n: i am a firm believer that scara loves dark humor yes i might be projecting but nobody can change my mind ( ˘ ³˘)♥ enjoy!
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your unwavering patience is something you’ve always taken pride in. 
there have only been a few instances where you’ve lost your cool in the fleeting years of your life, always feeling a certain kind of superiority in situations where you can hold your own even if it would be reasonable to let go for a moment. 
but now, after weeks of nonstop backhanded comments and complaints from your traveling companion, it is through sheer willpower alone that you haven’t turned around and tried to bite his head off every time he opens his mouth. 
“you seriously can’t swim?” the wanderer asks from somewhere behind you. “didn’t you ever have fun as a kid?”
you bite the inside of your cheek and keep up your brisk pace while he snickers to himself like it truly is the funniest thing in the world. the unforgiving desert sun is hot against your back and the fine grains of sand that keep finding their way into your shoes feel like they’re rubbing your skin raw, leaving you sweaty and miserable. 
the one traveling with you doesn’t share these sentiments, hardly even taking notice to uncomfortable sensations anymore, and thus remains entirely unbothered, much to your annoyance. 
he almost seemed understanding at first, suggesting you take a dip in a nearby oasis to cool off before you overheat, but one insignificant mention of your swimming skills, or lack thereof, had turned into him making fun of you for it before you could even begin to regret bringing it up. 
the wanderer doesn’t relent even when you keep ignoring him. “surely it’s not because you’re afraid, right? what’s so scary about water?” 
“quit it.” you warn him sharply, gritting your teeth so hard your jaw begins to ache. of course, you’re already expecting him to do the opposite. 
“wait, don’t tell me.” he starts, jogging a bit to catch up to you. “nobody bothered to teach you? mom just too busy to make time for you?”
this has you freezing in your tracks, coming to a halt beside him, and before you can even process the thought going through your head-
“at least i actually had one.”
the silence that follows is deafening as you snap your head up to stare at him, his expression of shock mirroring your own. guilt starts twisting around in your stomach as soon as the words leave your mouth, but the joyous laughter that erupts out of your traveling companion the next second chases it away as he hunches over and cackles.  
“that was incredible,” he gasps out. 
you narrow your eyes at the sight but you can’t help the smile that starts tugging at your lips seeing him thrown into such a genuine fit of giggles, the sound melodic and tugging at your heartstrings. “why are you laughing?”
he lifts an arm to wipe the sweat off of his forehead as he starts to calm down, leaving you with a bundle of conflicting emotions tangled together in your chest. 
“i never thought you had it in you.” he explains, sounding almost… proud? there’s an undeniable glow of satisfaction on his face, and it’s only then that you realize, this entire time, his goal was to get you to play along. 
“looks like you really can teach an old dog new tricks,” the wanderer shrugs, his usual shit-eating smirk returning to his lips. 
“i- wha?” you sputter incredulously. “haven’t you been around for centuries? and you’re calling me old?”
he makes a noncommittal sort of hum as you two start walking again. a comfortable silence falls over you both, the man beside you finally silent after getting what he wanted out of you. however, the heat isn’t any less forgiving than it was moments prior so your pace inevitably slows until you’re forced to stop and lean down to rest your hands on your knees, each inhale of hot air offering absolutely no relief. 
when he realizes you stopped walking and turns around to send you an unimpressed look it’s quickly replaced by poorly masked concern that shows in the furrow of his brows and the tight line of his lips. it’s only then that he remembers the bottle he watched you pack earlier that morning. 
“drink,” he says as he reaches into your bag and pulls out a full flask of water. you grab it from him gratefully and can’t help the sigh you release at the coolness of the liquid from being inside of a metal container. 
the wanderer watches you wordlessly as you twist the cap back on and turn to put it back in your bag, and the second you look away the feeling of something being placed on your head as well as suddenly being enveloped in the shade catches you by surprise. when you whip around to meet his gaze he avoids yours and walks a few steps ahead, arms crossed and hat mysteriously missing. 
when it clicks, your jaw drops a fraction and you reach up to slide your fingers along the gold metal leaves, finding them hot to the touch from the scorching sun. 
the wanderer never lets you touch his hat. not even as his trusted companion. every time you’ve tried in the past, he’s quick to step out of your way or slap your hand back whenever he sees you going for it. there’s a sparkle of joy in your eyes when he peeks out of the corner of his to take in your reaction and scoffs when he sees the awe on your face. 
“come on, let’s keep moving.” he huffs, tone sounding irritated. 
unused to the weight of the wide hat balanced on your head, you catch up to him on wobbly feet, one hand still holding onto the rim so it won’t tip off. how the wanderer manages to jump around and run without it sliding everywhere is beyond you, because it feels like it could fall off at any moment. 
this does not go unnoticed to the man next to you, but you’re too busy trying to stand straight and walk without tilting too much, so you’re not prepared for the gust of wind he flicks at you that tips the hat up and off, saved from falling to the ground only by his hand that shoots out to grab it and put it back the way it was before. 
“hey!” you pout indignantly, sending him a look of annoyance. when your meet eyes meet his, his vibrant indigo irises are swimming with mirthful contentment, and a small smile rests easily on his face. it’s not an expression you get see on him that often, but like always, it causes pitiful flutters in your chest. 
your frown softens despite yourself and you avert your gaze to the horizon where the sun hangs high in the sky, feeling thankful that you can just blame the flush staining your cheeks on the heat if he points it out. 
what a truly insufferable travel companion you have. 
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