Tumgik
#because you never know maybe i'll give it actual thought one day
somerandomdere · 2 days
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Yandere! actor x crew member! g/n reader
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tags: fluff, slight? yandere themes (duh), you can tell I don't know much about how hollywood scandal works, it's my first fic pls feedback
Fame was everything to Gabriel, it's been his whole life. He was a nepo baby, he has seen the cameras the moment he was born. Blessed with a good face, filthy rich parents, and a flirtatious personality, he was everything ladies wanted in a man.
Until everything came crashing down.
He got into a huge scandal he wasn't even aware of. He was accused of sexually harassing a fellow co actress, when in fact he never laid a finger on her. Sure, he was a well known celebrity and has a history of sleeping around, but that doesn't mean he will force himself on someone without consent!
The scandal got so big he was defamed everywhere. His sponsors withdrew, his parents and friends wanted to cut ties with him, and his girlfriend cussed him out before leaving.
It wasn't him! But at this point, no one believed in him. He started being depressed, having suicidal thoughts, and contemplating on quitting his dream career.
Enter you. Beautiful, radiant you.
After a long day of carrying heavy sets and helping out around the set. You were exhausted, so you went out to breathe some fresh air and smoke. As you lit up your cigarette, the main actor of your current show, Gabriel, seemed to be crying. You wanted to smoke, but you couldn't just leave a crying man alone! and you did want some privacy while taking a puff
"Hey... you alright?" You genuinely asked.
You didn't know much about Gabriel's scandal, since you weren't very interested in the affairs of celebrities and thought that fans should just mind their own business.
And you were just here to make extra money, what's the worst that could happen? You'll be gone in no time anyways. He'll just quickly forget you.
"Hey um..." You started awkwardly, and cleared your throat. "I may not be the best person that can comfort, but you can talk to me. I'll listen."
You thought he would be suspicious of you, because of his celebrity status, but he ranted to you and cried. How he was misunderstood. How the people closest to him never believed in him. How he felt so hopeless after he lost everything.
You reached out to touch his hand. You let him know you understood. How painful this period of life will be and how it will all be fine after.
You told him to take a look around him. Look through a different scope, see the people who actually cares for him. You told him how your uncle never believed any of those rumors and took advantage of this to hire him.
He teared up, not from self pity this time, but from realisation. Maybe he should abandon those people who never saw his true self anyways. For the first time, he looked into your eyes. The sunlight danced over your eyes, it reminded him of the warmth his parents used to give him, before they got too busy.
Maybe that's when he fell for you. He couldn't really point out when he fell head over heels, but he can kinda figure he feelings sprouted here.
He came back, stronger than ever. His acting caused your uncle's movie grossing to skyrocket. It hit the box office, everyone was talking about his movie through social media, how he so accurately acted his role, to the point they shivered. He decided to take this opportunity to clear his name. Due to the how overwhelmingly successful his new movie was, people decided to believe him.
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"Y/N! My name was cleared!" He squealed into the phone. You sincerely felt happy for him and offered to celebrate with him.
He wouldn't let this opportunity go without a waste! He immediately said yes. He wanted to see your beautiful face again, and finally ask you out.
He will finally be yours, and you will finally be his.
@hana-no-seiiki
@lovverletters
@moyazaika
@yxami
@mightypossibly
@suiana
My inspos on how to write fics (and my fav fic writers!) PLS PLS PLS PLS GIVE ME FEEDBACKKK
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davey-in-a-minivan · 2 days
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Second Star to the left Pasithea Au??? 👀👀👀👀
okay there are actually three permutations that @munchiezxx and i discussed (listed in increasing order of my fondness for them!)--
scoutminder jane, scout sophie:
personalitywise, this one feels most obvious--sophie's got that intrepid explorer air, and jane WOULD be over-particular and stressed if she had to try to watch over sophie in a situation where she has almost no actual influence!
remember that part in pasithea season 1 where jane admits she doesn't mind hearing sophie's stories about other planets bc they're probably the closest she'll come to seeing new worlds herself? scout sophie lovingly describing her planet for the sake of jane, who they both assume will never see it, is born from that same wistfulness
like bell, scoutminder jane ONE HUNDRED PERCENT has a "criminal due to decisions of conscience" past that she drops no hints of and sophie is too self-absorbed to prod until something happens
a very funny situation made possible by this set up is that moreau is jane's on-station nemesis that she complains to sophie about and sophie's like "um are you're sure they're not flirting?? *i* think they're wildly attracted to you and it's pissing them off. you should flirt back" and jane's like "you're insane" and sophie, who finds the saga wildly entertaining, is like "jane pleeeease, im stuck on this nowhere planet, i can't start drama myself, you have to do it on my behalf, i'll literally coach you" except then one day jane gets on the radio and says "um. something very lgbt just happened between me and moreau" and sophie's like 👁👁 wait a minute (<- suddenly super jealous and BLINDSIDED by the feeling bc she literally spent weeks egging jane into this)
sometimes sophie crosses a line and jane gives her the cold shoulder, refusing to talk about anything non mission related, and sophie resorts to narrating stupid choices she's "going" to make until jane can't take any more and is like "i know you know that putting your fork in the outlet won't fix it, stop that" and sophie (who was bluffing about the fork AND the broken outlet) is like well okay fine :) 2. scoutminder sophie, scout jane:
my backstory thought here is maybe instead of jane getting thrown in prison for the ssttl-verse equivalent of the rowley conspiracy, she was "invited" to become a planetary scout
sophie would probably have an ideological faith in the institution of the scouting office (which she works for as scoutminder) that gets broken down over the course of the story
jane would freely rearrange mission priorities and modify equipment to suit her and sophie's like "for the love of god there is protocol to follow." and does jane listen? no <3
jane asks sophie to slip hieronymus cheng novels into her data download packages and sometimes she reads them out loud and sophie insists she's only half-listening and doesn't care about the plot. which is true she doesn't care about the plot!! but she loves to hear jane's voice :')
sophie also asks jane to describe her planet sometimes but she's trying so hard to picture jane, not the planet... she's like "what's the light like? is your hair up or down?"
my favorite aspect of THIS scenario is i think sophie would just wildly overshare abt her life to fill in gaps in conversation so she tells jane waaaay too much abt her love life on the station at first "for jane's entertainment" because "it's not like she's got much else going on", and then one day jane's like huh sophie hasn't told me about any of her hookups in excruciating detail recently, thank god (this is because sophie is pining horribly)
3. scoutminder jane (again), scouts sophie and george:
this one is notably different from scenario (1) bc in that one, scout sophie fills a gwen hartley-ish role; in this one she's mikhail
from sophie's pov: she finds out her planet is inhabited by a sentient species (the others!!!) and realizes that in order to protect them & humanity from each other, she has to fake her death and stay here alone. (i don't remember the name of mikhail's alien lover but THAT'S OMIKRON)
from jane's pov: sophie gets weirder and weirder over calls until jane hears another voice in the background and goes cold bc it sounds just like evelyn. and then sophie's like "yeah i need you to tell everyone i'm dead and leave me here alone with no company except my ghosts and the undead replica of the guy we both loved!!! and you have to be the only one who knows what happened to me while everyone else mourns me!!!"
meanwhile jane and moreau are having their whole haters-to-soulmates arc over the radio (remember how moreau names the egoran corpse in their closet and insists jane treat her with respect?? they would sooo anthropomorphize their bot and then condescendingly explain to it why jane is wrong during arguments)
also moreau's a xenobiologist and i just think they deserve to have a field day investigating the weird vines on their planet and jane listens to a thirty minute monologue abt the vines' growth behaviors and is like "wait why is this so endearing"
jane gets in trouble for insubordination on the station bc of course she does and moreau finally gets josephine to track down information abt jane's background, finds out abt [rowley conspiracy equivalent] and is like "oh shit. that actually makes me like her even better. shit she can't go to PRISON abt this"
i do think coordinating a long distance jailbreak by calling in favors from random ppl who are fond of jane (anders? david alegros?) is something moreau is capable of AND likely to do
so jane escapes to moreau's planet, they finally meet in person, and then sophie turns up out of fucking NOWHERE to find jane bc while moreau's been having their ssttl 'express your newly recognized feelings for your erstwhile scoutminder by breaking them out of jail and bringing them to your planet' plotline, sophie was having her pasithea s3 'i need to convince the aliens to give me a ride home' plotline
now all three of them are on a planet together and it's GOING to cause problems!! but the fun kind!!!
ANYWAY THANKS FOR ASKING!!!
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helianskies · 1 year
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liking the idea of a Crimson Peak au in which England would be Edith, Portugal would be Thomas, and Spain would be Lucille. i have thought little else beyond it - details, tweaks, etc. but whenever i watch the film i see these guys instead and it just makes me feel some things . . .
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eddiesxangel · 4 months
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Fool Me Once | Eddie Munson x Reader
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Anonymous Asked: Eddie being your first everything and first boyfriend and reader is like kinda awkward or something. Then Eddie gets really drunk and gets home to reader and starts yelling at her saying like “You’re only dating me because you don’t want to be a sad loser virgin.” and she gets really sad because she genuinely loves him so much and she starts thinking that he doesn’t love her at all… Then maybe the day after he can’t find reader anywhere and maybe she’s like with robin just crying her eyes out.
AN: IDK IDK it’s my first angsty thing I’ve done hope it’s ok 🫣
Cw: angst, hurt no comfort. Small bitty smut. Use of pet names, one use of reference to reader as “my girl”
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“I love you, god, I love you” Eddie slowly pumped his swollen cock in and out of you.
You’ve never felt this wave of pleasure before; no wonder everyone was so hyped about sex.
“Fuck you’re so tight.”
“Baby, please.” You didn’t know what you were asking for, but the feeling in your lower stomach was starting to build more and more and more until! Euphoria. Euphoria fuelled your body. The wave of pleasure that Eddie just granted you felt indebted to him.
“I love you,” you sigh as your body melts into your boyfriend.
You’ve been with him for almost six months and finally felt ready to give himself to him. You hadn’t slept with anyone until now, and you were so happy you waited. You never felt so close, so in love, so unbelievably happy in this moment. Life was amazing; nothing could ever break this feeling you have.
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Ring ring ring
You were abruptly awakened by the sound of your phone ringing. You were fast asleep, and now feeling disoriented, you looked at the clock. It was already 3:38am. You wondered who could be calling you at this late hour. Maybe it was an emergency? Your heart racing, you rushed over to the phone in a state of panic.
"Hello?"
"You little slut"
"Eddie?"
"Who else would it be? Are you expecting a booty call? another guy you want to fuck?"
"I don't understand? What's wrong."
“What's wrong? I'll tell ya what's wrong! You’re only with me, so you’re not some loser virgin, that’s what! Do you think all the guys will want you to know that your cherry is popped? Well, guess what, honey? Now you're just a sad little whore.” He slurred.
“Wha-“
“You think you’re hot shit now? Getting with the freak of Hawkins? Gonna brag about how you fucked the freak?”
“Eddie, what are you talking about?” your voice wobbled.
He was obviously drunk out of his mind, but as they all say, drunk words are a sober man’s thoughts.
“I know how this is going to go… well, not if I beat you to it.”
“I don't understand?”
“I don't understand?” He mocked you in a high-pitched voice. “I’ll tell you what I’m talking about!” He yelled, and you cowered. He didn’t care. His voice got louder and louder. “You were a sad loooooser virgin before me! And now you’re just a sad loser who fucked the freak,” he laughed. He actually laughed.
"Eddie-"
“So we are don-”
You hung up the phone before he could finish his sentence.
You couldn't believe this was happening? You gave Eddie everything. You thought he was your everything up until this point. You slept with Eddie for the first time a week ago. Things were good, great, even. Until he went to the hideout tonight without you.
You stayed up the rest of the night because you were in tears about what Eddie said. None of this makes any sense? You always loved Eddie, and you thought he loved you back? How could he be so cruel?
You were woken up from your daze by a knock on your apartment door. You stumbled out of your room, still in your sleep shirt, with puffy eyes from crying all night. Robin was here to pick you up for work.
"Good Mor-" Her smile dropped along with the cup of coffee she was handing you as she saw your appearance. "Oh my god! What happened?" she rushed inside to wrap her arms around you.
"Eddie. He-" You could hardly get the words out. You just crumpled into a ball on the floor and sobbed pathetically in front of Robin.
"I'm going to kill that son of a bitch" She let you cry into her on the floor. "Come on, you need to get out of here. Get changed. We are calling in sick, and we can return to my place."
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Eddie woke up the morning after with a terrible hangover. It was already 12:35pm, and he couldn't remember how he got home. He suddenly felt an intense wave of nausea, which prompted him to hurry to the bathroom, where he vomited uncontrollably.
After the fifth shot, things in his memory become a little hazy. He was pretty hammered by then, but he still kept drinking with the boys. He vaguely remembered Jason being at the bar and making some leud comment about you, but other than that. Nothing.
He stumbled over to his answering machine to find it empty. That's weird? You always call him before your shift, and at least try to catch him on your lunch break. Today was Wednesday, right? You always work the morning shifts today.
Eddie tried calling your number, but he had no luck, so he tried calling your work, and when they said you called in sick, he got worried. So he tried your number again, and it still went to voice mail. Maybe you were sleeping? He tried calling back to see if Robin might know more. But when your annoyed coworker picked up the phone to tell him Robin also called in sick, he knew something was up.
Eddie rushed to his phone book to find Robin's number and called it. he waited for four rings until...
"Hello?"
"Hey! Rob it's Eddie, have you-"
"We are not speaking to you."
"We? Who's we?"
But it was too late. All he heard was the sound of the dial tone.
He tried again, no answer this time. He tried once more before getting pissed and decided to just go over to her place because what the fuck?
When Eddie got to Robin's, he pounded on the door like the pounding going on in his head.
"Robin! Open the door, please."
The door finally swung open to a very angry-looking Robin standing before him.
"Who the fuck do you think you are, Munson?!" She stepped outside and closed the door behind her so he couldn't come in.
"Robin, I'm extremely hungover and do not have the patience for your riddles. Do you know where my girl is or not? I'm worried sick."
"Oh, you can relax now since she is not your girl anymore, buddy." she poked his chest roughly. "you made that abundantly clear last night.
"Last night? I don't remember a thing from last night!"
"Well, think harder because she has been in there sobbing her eyes out from your little phone call."
"Phone call? What pho-" Then it all came rushing back to Eddie. It hit him like a Mack Truck.
"Yo Munson, where is that little whore of yours? Is she usually dangling off your arm like your little pet?" Jason snorted. "I bet she's off sucking another guy's cock; realized what a loser you are."
Jason didn't say much more to antagonize Eddie and get in his head, especially with the amount of alcohol he had consumed.
How could he be so stupid?
"Robin, oh my god, I fucked up. I fucked up big. Let me apologize."
"No. not now." She's a mess, as you can imagine-"
Robin was interrupted by the creek of the front door opening.
There you stood, looking as small as ever. Your eyes are still puffy, and your hair is a mess in your pyjamas at 1:30 in the afternoon.
"Baby, I-"
"Don't!" you cut him off, and Robin leaves to give you two spaces. "Don't you dare come here and think you can just take back what you said to me!" You had done a lot of crying; your anger was showing through.
"You don't understand, Jason was-"
"Jason?! What the fuck does Jason have to do with this? You hurt me, Eddie! I gave you everything! And then you throw it back in my face, accusing me of sleeping around? Are you insane? I've been in love with you for the last year and give myself to you, and you just throw that all away because of Jason Fucking Carver?"
"Baby, please, I'm so sorry; I'll do anything!"
"You've done enough." You turn and slam the door. That's it. You were done. Your heart felt so heavy… like it was just smashed into a million pieces. You were so close to caving when you saw the look of sorrow in those puppy dog eyes. But he had hurt you so bad you couldn’t believe he felt an ounce of pain he had inflicted upon you.
You and Eddie were officially done.
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You have been radio silent. You were held up in your room, and you refused to do anything other than go to work.
Eddie called you excessively. It was every day, multiple times a day. His messages made your heartache as you played them back. You could hear in his voice how broken he was. He had fucked up so bad you didn’t know if you should give him another chance. For two weeks, you refused to answer your phone. You were so sick of it ringing you eventually took it off the line.
Eddie did everything he could think of to try and win you back. He sent you flowers to your work every single shift. He called, wrote love letters, and just needed you to speak to him. He was a desperate mess without you. Eddie’s heart, like not, was ripped into shreds, and it was all his fault.
You’ve been in his life since high school since he met you in hellfire freshman year. Then, once you finally confessed your feelings for one another, he couldn’t believe his luck. You said you wanted to be with him, that you wanted him to be the only one you give yourself to. He never thought that he would be so lucky... And here he was, shooting himself in the foot. He even tried to go to your apartment a few times. But you would never answer the door. He would leave a note each time he showed up unannounced. It would say how sorry he was and how much he loved you, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to believe him.
The slurred words repeatedly played in your head, and you couldn’t make it stop. No matter how much he apologized, nothing he could say could make you forget. Your chest felt like it had a fifty-pound weight sitting right on your heart. Your eyes were permanently swollen from the continuous crying you couldn’t seem to stop. He had stolen your heart and then stomped on it until it seized to beat.
The first month after the breakup was rough, but avoiding Eddie seemed to be easy enough. He eventually got the message by month two and stopped trying altogether.
As time went on, you slowly started to heal. Eventually, your constant thoughts about Eddie subsided. Eventually, they stopped. You never thought you would get over the hurt, but the distance helped. You were getting on your merry way by month three. Finally, feeling like yourself again, eating regularly, sleeping regularly. You hadn’t heard or seen him, and you were finally freed from the prison sentence that was Eddie Munson.
Time spent with your friends and family was exactly what you needed. Even though Robin saw Eddie regularly, she never forgave him for what he did to you. Their friendship was strained, which strained his friendship with Steve as well as Nancy. They wanted to take his side, but once they heard what he had said to you, they couldn’t simply look the other way. So you would hang out with them when Eddie wasn’t there and vice versa. They made sure you never had to encounter one another for the time being. However, it was getting more and more difficult to have two separate schedules to appease you both.
You were to go to Steve’s for dinner with everyone, pizza and movie night. When you arrived, everyone was tense. Lines got crossed, miscommunication ensued, and as you walked through to the kitchen, he was sitting at the kitchen table with a glass of water in his hand, almost slipping from his grip as his Bambi eyes widened at the sight of you.
“Oh shit!” You hear Steve curse when he realizes the mistake that has been made.
“I’m going to go.” You turn and sprint to the door.
“Not wait!l You can hear Eddie shuffle off the chair behind you, but you refuse to look back.
“Please! Wait!”
Threatening tears sting your eyes, and you rush out the front door.
“Sweetheart, wait.” You feel his hand hook your elbow as your body is jerked in the opposite direction in which you’re running.
“What!” You yell, but then you see his eyes. You really look at him for the first time in three months. He had bags under his eyes, and the dark circles extenuated the deep chocolate of his eyes.
“I-I uh,” he lets out a deep breath, “I wanted to say I’m sorry I’m so sorry. I was so god damn stupid, so so stupid, the dumbest guy on the planet. I can’t believe I fucked this up so badly; I love you. I love you so much. I can’t do this anymore without you, baby. Please.” He was on his knees, begging, literally on his knees, grovelling.
“Eddie, get up.”
“No, I don’t deserve it.” He was so pathetic, but he didn’t care. “I love you, please, just please. I need you in my life.”
“I don’t know Eddie…”
“So that’s not a no?!” He popped up like an excited little bunny, the silver oh hope he needed to get by.
“Eddie…” you sigh.
“No, no, you said maybe! You don’t know. You haven’t decided. Please, baby, I love you.”
“This is too hard.” Your lip wobbles as you try walking away again, but he interlocks your hand with his.
“Please, can I at least just hold you?”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” You let your hand slip from his grip, and he unwillingly let go.
Eddie felt you slipping through his fingers, literally. The hope he had moments ago was gone.
“I’m sorry”
“So am I…” without another look back, you walked away.
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lev1hei1chou · 1 month
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My Husband
Gojo x reader, Nanami x reader (individual) Genre: Fluff Words: 676 Synopsis: You refer to them as your husband, when you're dating Masterlist
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The sun hung low in the sky as you strolled through the city with Gojo Satoru by your side. The two of you were enjoying a rare day off, relishing in each other's company. As you wandered through a crowded street, a familiar face caught your eye. It was a friend from years ago, someone you hadn't seen in ages.
"Hey! Long time no see!" your friend exclaimed, pulling you into a tight hug.
You exchanged pleasantries, catching up on each other's lives. Eventually, your friend's gaze shifted to Gojo, who had been standing patiently beside you.
"Oh, and who's this handsome fella?" your friend asked with a playful grin.
You chuckled nervously, feeling a sudden urge to embellish the situation. "Oh, this is Satoru Gojo. He's my husband."
Your friend's eyes widened in surprise, "Husband? Wow, congratulations! When did you guys get married?"
Gojo, caught off guard by your statement, raised an eyebrow. You shot him a quick apologetic look, realizing you may have jumped the gun.
"We're not married yet, actually," Gojo clarified, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "But she's just so in love with me that she couldn't wait to claim me as her husband."
You playfully nudged him, feigning annoyance. "Oh, please. Don't let him fool you. We're just dating."
Your friend laughed, sharing a knowing look with Gojo. "Well, you two seem happy. It's great to see you again! I won't keep you, but let's catch up properly sometime."
As your friend walked away, Gojo turned to you with a smirk. "Husband, huh? I guess you're not the only one who can play along."
You rolled your eyes, "I panicked! It just slipped out. Besides, it's not like it's never going to happen, right?"
Gojo leaned in, planting a teasing kiss on your cheek. "Oh, it'll happen. Just know that when it does, I'll be the one saying 'I told you so.'" You sighed, shaking your head, but couldn't help but smile at his words.
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You sat comfortably on the couch in your apartment, phone pressed to your ear as you chatted with your friend. Nanami, your boyfriend, was in the kitchen, silently preparing some tea. The conversation flowed casually until your friend asked about your day.
"Oh, you know, just spending time with my husband," you said casually, not giving it a second thought.
As soon as the words left your mouth, you felt a sudden shift in the atmosphere. You turned to find Nanami staring at you, tea kettle in hand, with a raised eyebrow. His expression was a mix of surprise and confusion.
"Husband?" Nanami mouthed, clearly overhearing your conversation.
You shot him an apologetic look, realizing the slip-up. Trying to ignore the situation, you turned away from him and continued talking to your friend, "Yeah, he's just in the kitchen making tea right now. Oh, speaking of which, he's giving me a look because I accidentally called him my husband. Silly me."
Nanami's gaze intensified as he observed your attempts to backtrack. He set the kettle down, his arms crossed over his chest. You couldn't help but feel a sense of amusement from him.
"Accidentally?" he quirked an eyebrow, his tone dry and playful.
You couldn't help but chuckle nervously, knowing you were caught. "Well, I mean, you do act like a husband sometimes, don't you?"
Nanami approached, a smirk playing on his lips. "Is that so?"
You nodded, trying to play it off cool. "Yeah, you know, looking out for me, making tea – all the husband-like things."
He leaned in, his lips dangerously close to your ear. "If I'm going to be your husband, maybe we should make it official."
Your cheeks flushed at his suggestion, realizing that he wasn't upset. Instead, Nanami seemed to be enjoying the banter. You shot him a playful glare, "You're not getting off that easy, mister."
Nanami chuckled, wrapping his arms around you. "Maybe one day, I'll make an honest woman out of you." You rolled your eyes but couldn't hide the smile on your face.
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slutforleeminho · 4 months
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heyy, i love your work, i was wondering if you could write a fic based on the song ‘the other woman’ by lana del rey where the reader is the other woman. you could do it about any member :)
this is my first ever request since i’ve been on this app so i hope i did it right 😭
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The other Woman • Hwang Hyunjin
thank you so much! i’m so happy that your first ask was on my acc! i hope you like it<3
warnings: suggestive(no explicit smut), arguing, infidelity, toxic relationship, plot twist at the end;)
"I have to go, beautiful." Hyunjin leaned down to kiss your forehead after pulling his pants up and buttoning them. He placed his hand on the side of your face, gently caressing your cheek with his thumb. "She'll get suspicious if I stay any longer."
This was normal for you, yours and Hyunjin's little routine. He'd take you out to dinner and treat you like a princess, paying for your meals and anything else you could possibly want. Holding your hand and taking you places you've only dreamed of going, then he'd take you home --your home-- and he'd fuck you like there was no tomorrow. And then he'd leave to do the same things with his wife.
You never understood why he pursued you the way he did when he had someone at home to take care of, but you didn't care enough to bring it up. Why would you? You have everything a young woman could ever want; a young, handsome, rich man who gives you anything you want. But only a few times a week. It's okay though, that just gives you plenty of time to do things that you enjoy like reading and going to museums and admiring the beautiful pieces of art that you wished you could just shove in your bag and take home with you.
"Okay," You said with a tired smile. "I'll see you tomorrow."
"Actually, I meant to tell you, I won't be able to come over tomorrow. Apparently, Violet has a family reunion, and she wants me to accompany her." He stated as he pulled his shirt over his head and grabbed his bag from the chair in the corner of your room.
Violet. Such a pretty name for such a lucky woman.
"Oh." Was all you replied with.
"Are you mad at me?"
"No, of course not, these things happen," You knew exactly what you were getting yourself into as soon as you entered this relationship, if it can even be called that. "Just text me when you can. let me know when you want to meet up."
"Of course." He smiled.
He kissed you deeply before he left that night, almost making you forget that he had someone at home waiting for him, and you would be left here, cold and alone.
That text that he promised didnt come until a week later.
"I miss the way you feel wrapped around me." Was all that the message contained. You liked to imagine he was talking about your warm embrace, but you knew that wasn't true. He just wanted to feel an unfamiliar body underneath his.
You weren't sure how you ended up like this. When you first met Hyunjin he was sweet and caring, attentively listened to you while you complained about your bad day at work and massaged away all the soreness in your muscles. You can't remember the last time he's taken you out to dinner or bought you flowers. Now you were just his escape from his nagging wife.
You put up with the constant shame and guilt you felt for being with someone who already had their someone, because you thought that maybe his love for you would grow and that maybe someday Hyunjin would realize that you're the one he wants to spend every waking moment with and not someone else. But as your love for him grew your patience shrunk until one day you snapped.
Hyunjin was collecting his things after he had finished what he came here for, which was to get his dick wet and nothing more. "I won't see you again after tonight."
Hyunjin stopped in his tracks and stared at you with wide eyes. "What do you mean by that?"
"I mean I deserve more than this. I deserve to have someone's full attention and all of their heart." You held yourself together, determined not to cry Infront of him. He doesn't deserve your tears.
"Baby, what are you even talking about?" He knelt down in front of you and placed his hand on your shaking knees. "Of course, I love you."
"No, you don't," You shook your head. "You love my body, you love having someone at your disposal, someone you can use only for your own pleasure. If you loved me even in the slightest there wouldn't be another woman getting the treatment that I crave so fucking much." All the emotion you've kept stuffed away finally revealed itself in the form of a single tear running down your cheek.
It was silent for a long time before Hyunjin spoke. "I'll leave her." You snapped your head up so fast that it hurt. "If that's what you want than I'll do it." The way he worded it as if it was your choice whether his marriage ended or not made you sick to your stomach, but you couldn't deny that you felt a flutter of hope in your chest that maybe this didn't have to end after all. But you're smarter than that. He says this now, but he doesn't mean it, and even if he did you wouldn't be able to sleep at night knowing that a woman who did nothing wrong was out there most likely crying herself to sleep while your warm and safe in the love of her life's arms.
"No, be with her. I'll be okay." That was a complete lie but even after everything he's done, you still don't want him to worry about you.
"Please don't do this to me. I love you and I want to be with you. He held on to your legs tighter.
"Funny, isn't that what you told her when you vowed in front of God and everyone that your love for her would be eternal." His mouth snapped shut and his hands left your legs before he stood. He leaned down and before you could register what was happening his lips were on yours. You immediately reciprocated, leaning forward and pressing yourself closer into him. He was so intoxicating, the way his tongue glided with yours so smoothly had you in a trance; you snapped out of it when he placed his right knee on the bed beside you and started pushing you backwards. "No!" you shoved him away. He stumbled backwards but regained his balance quickly. "I'm not doing this with you, Hyunjin. I can't do this anymore, its wrong."
"Since when do you have morals?" His voice was louder this time, he was pissed.
"I've always had them, but I put them aside because I love you!" It was your turn to stand up and look him square in the face. "But the longer we do this the more I realize that this isn't love, its obsession and its toxic. You never loved me Hyunjin you were curious about infidelity, and I was an easy target because my standards were so fucking low that I actually settled for you."
"Fuck this, I don't have to sit here and listen to you degrade me like this." He grabbed his bag and left, but not without slamming the door behind him.
~
The past month has been hell. After laying in your bed for an entire week you decided to pack up all of Hyunjins things and throw them out, the smell of him that was radiating off of them was making you sick to your stomach every time you walked in the room. And then you went to the mall to treat yourself to a new outfit, you wanted something that didn't have any memories of him attached to it. A trip to your favorite coffee shop followed after that. you hadn't been her in a while and you missed the smell of fresh espresso as you walked in the door.
After getting yourself your favorite -a butter pecan macchiato and a small triple chocolate brownie (they were out of doughnuts)- You sat in the best spot in the entire shop, in a little booth in the corner right next to the window, where you could watch the leaves that had no color left in them fall to the ground only to get trampled over by the passing pedestrians. The leaves reminded you a lot of yourself in a way, but you hoped you never had to fall again.
"Hi," a voice pulled you out of your thoughts. You turned to find yourself looking up at a very handsome young man. His hair was blonde, and it came down to his shoulders. he had an apron on, and a big smile plastered across his face, little freckles decorated his cheeks. "I saw you bought one of the brownies, it's a new recipe I tried, and I wanted to ask if you enjoyed it."
"Oh," You blinked up at him. "Um yeah it's really good, maybe my new favorite."
"Oh, thank god," He let out a sigh of relief. "I was worried that it wouldn't be any good. See a couple of the ingredients I use were sold out, so I had to substitute-" He stooped in the middle of his sentence. "I'm sorry, I'm rambling. I tend to do that a lot."
"No, it's okay," You huffed out a laugh. He was so cute. "Now I'm curious about what ingredients were sold out." You joked.
He smiled widely at you and stretched his hand out. "I'm Felix."
You hesitated but took his hand anyway. "Nice to meet you, Felix."
PART TWO HERE
THANK YOUUU ALL FOR A THOUSAND FOLLOWERS I DONT EVEN KNOW HOW TO FEEL 😭
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Text
Sequel to Good People - The fic in wherein Wayne doesn't like Steve and overheard a conversation he shouldn't have. Here's the aftermath of that :3
Part One🦇Part Two🦇Final Part
-
Wayne had stayed in his bedroom long after he heard the boys leave. Eddie had knocked on his door to let him know he'd be staying at Steve's and to not expect him back until late tomorrow, a courtesy he'd never shown until after he'd been the victim of a manhunt back in spring. Wayne never asked him to do that but he thinks Eddie picked up on how worried Wayne would get if he were gone for any amount of time.
Eddie's always been good at reading people when he bothers to pay attention to them. Maybe that should have been enough reason for him to give pause to his dislike of the Harrington boy, instead of needing to overhear the boy crying about how he thinks there's something rotten deep within him that only Wayne can sense.
He'd been so sure he knew what kind of person Steve Harrington was. Eddie had been hung up on boys just like him pert-near his whole life, Wayne thinks, and it's never ended differently.
It's a Tuesday night and his friends usually gather at the bar on Friday nights, but Wayne needs to get out of the trailer to think. A beer might help. So, he grabs his keys and heads out.
He's been a regular at this bar since before he was even old enough to drink. Used to come with his pa, may he rest in peace, just to get out of the house. He's been a patron longer than any of the staff have worked there, he realizes.
"Hello Linda," Wayne greets as he takes a seat at the bar instead of at his usual table. He'd done a cursory glace when he came in and confirmed none of his drinking buddies were in before choosing the bar.
"This isn't your usual day," Linda says, leaning a hip on the counter, "but it's always a pleasure to see you."
"I got some thinkin' to do," Wayne replies and Linda nods and moves away, returning soon with a bottle of his usual beer. She picks up the bottle open and removes the cap before setting the drink down in front of him.
"Need a sounding board, hun?" She asks.
Wayne does a quick survey of the bar again but it's pretty quiet so he returns his gave to Linda and says, "if you wouldn't mind too much hearin' about how an old man might have messed up."
Linda laughs. "You aren't even half a decade older than me, so you best not be sprouting that 'old man' nonsense around me, 'cause I am not some old lady."
"Terribly sorry, Linda. I'm just really feelin' like an old fool."
A small frown comes to Linda's face then. "Now what could you have possibly done?"
"Well, I guess I'm tryin' to figure out if I did mess up. Eddie's got a friend and I don't trust 'im. Thought I had good reason not to, but, well, I overheard somethin' I wasn't supposed ta and now I'm not sure."
Linda hums, "hmm, that doesn't sound like you, judging someone unrightly. You are usually a good read about people."
"I'll admit, I haven't bothered to spend enough time with the boy to, uhh, judge him."
"Wayne Munson," Linda scolds, "you best not be telling me you judged that boy because of other people."
Judging by Linda's raising brow line, he thinks his guilt must be clear on his face. "You know Eddie, and how people have treated him. And with what he just went through- I just want 'im safe. Sure, his new friend graduated last year, but he was on the basketball team his whole career. And I'm jus' supposed ta believe this one boy didn't side with the group who started the manhunt?"
"Unless you've got evidence otherwise, yes," Linda says, brows furrowed.
Wayne sighs. "I ain't got proof. I got a lot of people sayin' he's good, actually. But it's the Harrington boy. The same boy Eddie would come home and complain 'bout. Harrington, Hagan, Hargrove, though I shouldn't speak ill of the dead. All them boys treatin' Eddie like he wasn't worth nothin' until they wanted somethin' form him."
Linda's mouth is almost a perfectly straight line with how much she's pursed her lips the more he talks, but she doesn't interrupt and no customer calls for her, so he continues.
"And you know what Richard Harrington was like. I know y'all only shared one school year together, but Janice wasn't any better, and she was your year, wasn't she?" Linda gives him one nod in response. "That boy's a product of them. I- You can't fault me for thinkin' differently."
"So, when do you expect Eddie to end up in prison?"
The question throws Wayne and fills him with anger at the same time. "Now, Linda, I ain't likin' what you are implyin'."
"I ain't implyin' nothing," she says, using the same tone with him that he did with her. "I'm applying your logic. Eddie's a product of his parents, ain't he? Al's in prison, and his mama's long gone, bless her soul. And since Eddie ain't sick, last I heard, he must be following after his daddy."
The anger leaves him then, and all he's left with is shame. "Point made. And if I'm bein' fully honest with ya, I don't even need ya to defend that boy. That thing I overheard. That what's eatin' at me. He called me good people."
Linda softens, shoulders dropping, "you are good people, hun."
"That boy told my Eddie that I'm 'good people', and that his parents are bad ones, and I. I don't know what to do about that."
"He thinks his own parents are bad?"
Wayne nods, "is what he said. Thinks I can somehow sense he's also rotten just by association."
"There's nothing to it, then," Linda says, like they've already talked out the tangled mess that is Wayne's thoughts on Steve Harrington and have reached a conclusion. Well, perhaps Linda already has. She's always been bright, and she's usually right. "You, Wayne Robert Munson, need to apologize to that boy. The guilt and shame's gonna put you into your cups otherwise."
Wayne nods slowly, though he isn't even sure if he agrees or is just acknowledging what she said before he takes a long pull from his bottle before lowering both his arms to rest on the counter as he replies, "You're right as usual, Linda my dear. I just gotta let go of the fact he's Richard Harrington's son and try and see just Steve."
"Damn right. Eddie might be Al's by birth, but you raised him and he turned out alright. Maybe Steve got the same treatment. Had his own Wayne around to raise him right."
There might be a bit of truth to that. He's heard enough talk about Steve Harrington over the years to think that. One of his drinking buddies used to be Jim Hopper. He's heard about the amount of parties he'd had to go shut down at the Harrington's house, with no parents to be seen. (Always Jim's biggest gripe back then. "Where's this kids goddamn parents!?) Wayne always assumed their kid just took advantage every time his parents were gone, but maybe it's the opposite. Maybe they were always gone, and Steve had parties to not be alone in his house.
Linda's right. There is nothing to it. He needs to talk to Steve, properly apologize, and go from there.
"It ain't an easy thing, admittin' you might be wrong," Wayne sighs.
Linda reaches across the counter and places a hand on Wayne's arm just below his wrist. Wayne looks up from where he'd ended up staring at his bottle, making eye contact with her. "If your boy is friends with this boy, it's for a reason. Just give him a chance. You are one of the good ones, but even we can have a lapse in judgment now and then. Doesn't make you bad, makes you human."
"Ain't no one perfect but the good Lord," Wayne says and Linda nods in agreement.
"Alright. I'll leave you to your beer and your thoughts for now, but you best keep me updated on your situation. I wanna know how it goes," Linda retracts her hand and heads down the counter to check on the few other people sitting about nursing drinks.
Wayne sits in his thoughts more than he drinks, so by the time he's done with the beer it's warm but that's fine. He will talk to the Harrington kid, but he wants to talk to Eddie first. He owes his nephew that much, and he does recall Eddie saying something to the effect of 'he'll come around' to Steve, and Wayne wants to tell Eddie he'll try.
Also he doesn't want to just corner the boy after he's been somewhat intimidating intentionally. He's going to get Eddie to ask if Steve'll talk to him.
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True to his word, Eddie returns home late the next day. The clock says it's almost 6 when Eddie finally comes through the front door. If he's surprised to see Wayne awake, he doesn't show it. He does work the graveyard shift, and he's got a shift at 10 tonight, usually wakes up two hours before his shift. He'd wanted to make sure he caught Eddie, though, so he's been up since three.
"Eddie, you got a minute?" Wayne says.
"Sure. What's up?" Eddie says as he pulls off his jacket, depositing it on the nearest surface before plopping sideways on the couch so he's facing Wayne.
"I gotta come clean. I overheard some of what you and Steve were talkin' about," Wayne says, because he's a man of his word and he's always been good at doing the hard thing if it also turns out to be the right thing. He's got to be honest with Eddie, so he can be honest with himself. "Heard Harr- Steve talkin' 'bout how he thinks I'm a good person, and his parents aren't."
Eddie's quiet for a moment, blinking owlishly back at him while he thinks. "Oh. Umm. Sorry. I just- I think this is the first time I've heard you say Steve's name."
"Not the part I thought you'd focus on," Wayne huffs a laugh, "but I owe your boy an apology and I was hopin' you could help me make it happen."
"My boy- what is happening," Eddie drops his voice to whisper the question to himself.
"What's happening is I'm doin' the thing I always told you ta do. Taking accountability and fixin' my mistake."
"Oh. Oh!" Eddie narrows his eyes at Wayne, "you've made an ass out of me. All those times I assured Steve you were just being standoffish and you were- what were you doing?"
"Intentionally keepin' the boy at a distance 'cause I thought he was gonna hurt you. I sure as hell ain't been friendly. I been judging him because I knew his parents, thinkin' about how an apple don't fall far from the tree," Wayne stops, giving pause to see if Eddie will speak but he isn't. He's just staring at Wayne like he's a puzzle. "It was brought to my attention that it's mighty unfair to judge someone 'cause of how their parents act."
Eddie's brow furrows and his lips purse. It makes him think of Linda. She'd made the exact same face. "I- Jesus fuck this is weird, but I. I think I'm mad at you. Disappointed."
Eddie doesn't say it with an angry tone, and his face still looks more puzzled than mad, but the sentence feels like a kick to the chest anyway. Eddie and he have never been mad at each other, not in the eight years Eddie's lived here with him. They've been worried and scared for each other that, or mad at someone or something else that they take out on each other, but never mad at each other.
"You've every right to be."
Eddie stands from the couch, paces down the hallway, and Wayne thinks this might be the end of any conversation tonight, but instead Eddie comes storming back up the hall. "So, what, did you take me in expecting me to be my dad!?"
"No. He mighta contributed to your birth, but we both know that man ain't nurtured you a day in his life."
"Yeah, well, Steve's parents didn't raise him either, so all this has been bullshit! You made Steve think he's, he's broken and a bad person! And," Eddie's eyes are wet and he's angry but also about to cry. Wayne hasn't seen him like this in a long time. Not since the day they learned Al was in prison, fifteen years with a chance for parole if he's on his best behavior. Eddie had been so angry, and sad, and hurt by the news. Eddie's like that now, worked up so much he's repeating himself as he hiccups his words out around the lump in this throat, "And, and you made me help him feel that way! Because I didn't take him serious when he said, said you didn't like him! I thought you were being, being a dad, all fake gruff to intimidate the guy I like but it's- you were- FUCK!"
Wayne lets him yell. He deserves it, and Eddie needs it. Eddie's not saying anything untrue. He takes in what Eddie is yelling at him; Steve's parents didn't raise him, and how Wayne's cold shoulder must have added to whatever else Steve has going on in his life.
"I, I h-held him while he b-bawled into my shirt last night! He, he thinks- and you, you didn't even trust me! T-trust my own j-judgment of, of Steve! I, I need- I can't-" Eddie doesn't finish the sentence. He turns on his heel and storms back down the hall, the slamming of his door finalizing this conversation.
To say that Wayne feels terrible is inadequate. He's hurt his boy, and he's hurt his boy's boy, and he's got no one to blame but himself.
Now he's got two apologies to make.
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I tried to tag as many people as I could remember that expressed interest in a follow up fic. I am SO sorry if I missed you. Please let me know if you want to be tagged in the final part. I will only be tagging people who ask to be tagged going forward 'cause it's a lot of people to remember and my memory is garbage.
@i-less-than-three-you @nburkhardt @afewproblems @skepsiss @unclewaynemunson @itsthestrangestthings @emofratboy @devondespresso @finntheehumaneater @loopholesinmydreams @yourmom-isgay @wrenisflying @emsgoodthinkin @messrs-weasley @madigoround @jackiemonroe5512 @gutterflower77 @zerokrox-blog @eriquin @samyuck @lunarmaruna @mugloversonly @kaij-basil-lionelli88
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littlespoonevan · 23 days
Text
i'll keep it all to myself
7x04 coda (she's back, baby xoxo)
-
“Hey, killer.”
Buck winces, mouth already tripping over an apology as he moves into the Diaz living room. “Eddie, I’m so sorry-“
“Buck, I’m kidding,” Eddie interrupts, exasperated and just a little fond. He hasn’t been on the receiving end of that tone in a few days. It’s embarrassing to say he missed it. “Sit down.”
Buck takes the armchair instead of sitting on the couch next to Eddie. He’s not sure why. He never sits in the armchair. Sitting in it now he almost feels…off balance. But then catching sight of Eddie’s foot propped up on the coffee table sobers him immediately and he forgets all about the strange discomfort in his stomach.
Reaching for the cushion behind him, he gets up again. “You should have something under that,” he says, gently lifting Eddie’s leg to place the cushion on the table. He lowers it again carefully, nodding in satisfaction when Eddie’s foot is nestled safely in the cushion. “The table is too hard.”
“Oh sorry, I thought I was the one with real medical training,” Eddie quips but there’s no bite behind the words.
“Yeah but I’m the one with crush injury experience,” Buck says, kicking his own legs up on the table in proof.
Eddie opens his mouth as if to argue back but then closes it again, rolling his eyes, but his lips twitch a bit. Just at the corners.
“Eddie, I really am sorry,” he says, straightening in his seat and forcing himself to meet Eddie’s gaze properly. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I just got so-“
“I know,” Eddie replies, quiet and careful and devoid of any of his earlier teasing. “But you know you can talk to me, right? Like, it’s me Buck. You can just tell me when something’s wrong.”
Buck does know that. He knows he can tell Eddie everything. Anything. The bad and the good.
Which means he should be able to clear this up right away, right? He should just be able to say, ‘Hey, I was apparently working through some latent feelings I never knew I had. And I took that out on you. But guess what! I like Tommy and he likes me back and we have a date Saturday!’
But thinking about telling Eddie that Tommy kissed him makes his chest constrict in a way that he doesn’t expect. So he tucks it up in a neat little box in the corner of his mind for now and focuses on making sure Eddie’s okay. Because he can do that. He knows how to do that.
“I’m an idiot,” he says. “And if you want I will totally give you one free punch so we’re even.”
Eddie huffs a quiet laugh. “I could never hit you.”
“Should I go get Christopher’s Legos instead and step on them with my shoes off?”
Eddie lets out a real laugh then, the kind that makes his eyes close and his head fall back against the couch cushion, and Buck feels so much affection for him well up inside him he’s almost breathless with it.
“You’re an idiot,” Eddie tells him. “And a martyr. Seriously, Buck, I don’t care. I just want to make sure you and I are okay.”
“Of course we are,” Buck says, without actually stopping to interrogate if that’s true or not.
They are, he thinks. The fact that something absolutely life altering happened to him an hour ago and he somehow can’t make himself tell Eddie about it is…inconsequential.
He’s just hedging his bets. Not trying to get ahead of himself before he has yet another failed romance.
“In that case, can you go to the fridge and get us some beers?” Eddie asks, pulling Buck back to reality.
“You shouldn’t be drinking,” Buck says, even as he stands. Maybe they can split a beer. Half a bottle shouldn’t hurt. “Tommy says you’re on pain meds.”
“Oh, so you guys talked?”
Eddie says it unassumingly and when Buck freezes at the dining table and looks over his shoulder he finds that Eddie isn’t even looking at him. He’s leaning forward on the couch, adjusting his leg, but when Buck takes too long to answer he raises his head and gives him an expectant look.
“Yeah,” Buck murmurs, the phantom rasp of Tommy’s stubble against his mouth still tingling and making him want to reach up and touch his lips. That would give too much away though. “We talked.”
Eddie smiles, nodding his approval. “Good. Maybe all three of us can actually hang out together now.”
The thought immediately makes Buck’s stomach swoop with something unnameable but he doesn’t let it show on his face.
“Sure,” he breathes. “Sounds great.”
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It's a Match! || poly!141 x Reader
[Chapter 31] || [Chapter 33]
Pairing: Gaz x gn!Reader || Ghost x gn!Reader || 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.3K~ cw: not angst but a bit 'angsty', fluff fluff fluff. Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: This one made me all emosh to write ngl.
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Chapter 32: No Harm Done.
You're sitting by the sliding glass door leading out to the balcony on Sunday morning, looking out and holding a warm drink in your hands.
It's raining outside. It's always raining in England, so it shouldn't really surprise you... but it still feels like a lazy, down-sort of day regardless.
You're home alone. Johnny went to base for P.T. and a meeting of sorts, while Kyle went out to the gym himself, giving you some time for yourself.
Your phone sits in front of you, fingers tapping away, back-and-forth, between chats with friends and with the lads, your lads.
Ghost said they'd text you to let you know when they were back, a promise they'd made after they sort of just turned up at your door all injured and hurt without warning so many weeks ago.
It feels like it's been an eternity since you had them all here.
Your eyes find your chat with Simon, flittering over the last couple of texts you sent each other. Right before the boys left on their newest mission.
Regardless of what Kyle and Johnny say about Simon, he's actually the best texter out of all of them... John being the worst.
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simon: Have about 5 minutes before we have to go. you: will u be safe? simon: Always am sweetheart. simon: Don't you worry about me. you: i meant ALL of you. you: and of course i worry about u! simon: If it was about all of us, you wouldn't be messaging me separately. simon: And I appreciate it but you shouldn't. you: i hate how smart u are. you: u face death literally every day in your job simon: And I always come back. you: okay but im allowed to worry no? you: youd worry about the others too? simon: I guess so. simon: But I'll be fine. you: u dont know that. simon: I know enough. simon: Been doing this for over a decade. you: that's not reassuring the way you think it is. simon: You're very worried. Is this because of what I said?
That text makes you set down your phone when you read it again, your face warm with embarrassment at the reminder, just like it had been during that text exchange as it was happening.
He had told you he loves you. Two of them had by now.
The thought of that still makes you shiver, the words so full of emotion and vulnerability when Simon said them, never any pressure on you, just a gesture on his end.
you: maybe? simon: That's really cute of you. simon: Don't let it make you worry or overthink. simon: I'll make sure I come back to you. you: si... simon: GTG ✋ simon: Will text you when I touch down.
Kyle's, however, were a lot less vulnerable. They were sweet, sudden, driven by happiness and amusement...
Both of them came out of left field and caught you off-guard.
Both of them felt just as real, however.
You took a sip of your warm drink and glanced out of the window again, watching the droplets slide down the glass panes.
You can't help but think about how things have been going for you.
Is this becoming too much? Is it going too far? Did you finally lose the plot?
When did a silly little Tinder account you made with your friends while fighting heartbreak become a 4-way relationship and 2 out 4 men telling you they're in love with you?
You're lost in thought when the door opens behind you, Kyle making his way in.
"Hey, lovie." He greeted, causing you to jump a bit, spilling some of your drink over the glass top of the table.
"Ah, fuck." You complained as you reached for the napkin holder and started mopping up the liquid. "Hi, Ky." You added as you cleaned the mess you made.
"Sorry, did I catch you off guard?" He asked as he approached the table and began to help you.
"Yeah..." You murmured and looked up at him, finally, finding him in a grey sleeveless hoodie and black workout shorts.
You smiled softly at him as you gathered the wet napkins and moved to the kitchen to dispose of them.
Kyle seemed to catch the look in your eyes as you glanced up at him. "What's wrong? You seem strange..." He asked as you followed you into the kitchen.
"Just thinking, it's nothing." You told him as you turned after throwing out the rubbish, only to find him standing right behind you, looking at you with scrunched brows.
"Is this about yesterday?" He asked you softly. "Was it too early?" He added in earnest.
The memories of the day before come back to you sharply. The way, after he told you he loved you, you sputtered for a bit, your face burning up, your eyes wide...
And how you had come back home together, your nose still pink, his cheek still red, the both of you looking embarrassed and sheepish, avoiding eye contact and biting your lip.
How Johnny had teased the two of you, thinking you had gotten down and dirty in the car and that's why you had come home looking so embarrassed...
You look up at him with a sigh and shake your head. "No, it's just..." You trailed off.
"Was it because Soap teased us after we came back?" He reached forward and gently ran a hand over your cheek.
"No!" You added and sighed, leaning into his palm, and gently holding his forearm in your hand.
"I'm just worried... I've never... been in something like this before." You explained, as you looked into his eyes. "More than one partner and-"
Kyle nodded at you, watching you with understanding eyes and a soft gaze, like he wanted you to keep talking, communicating.
"I don't know how to act about this... I don't know..." You trailed off and looked away for a moment. "It's... a strange feeling."
"To love more than one person at once?" He asked you as his brows raised in inquiry.
You nodded in response and looked up at him. "Yeah... And to... have them love me back."
"So I wasn't the first to tell you, huh?" Kyle asked, having caught the way you mentioned 'more than one person' when it came to 'loving you back'.
Your face burned up hot in embarrassment and you shook your head at him.
"Simon was." You replied, which made Kyle's eyes widen and then a smile take over his lips as he shook his head.
"Wasn't expecting that..." Kyle admitted as he caressed your cheek again.
"Did you say it back for him? Like you did for me?" He asked and you nodded your head in reply.
"Well..." Kyle trailed off, seemingly lost in thought for a moment, as if pondering what to say, and how to say it. "It's not exactly a bad feeling, is it?"
You shook your head. It wasn't a bad feeling. In fact, you quite liked having said the words, having had the words said to you.
"Then, I'd say there's not a big cause for worry. We all knew this would happen, right?" He added. You, once again, nodded at him.
Gently, he cupped your face with both hands, his thumbs rubbing your cheeks. "Then, let's just... let it be." He chuckled.
"You and I love each other. You and Simon love each other. I love Simon too..." He admitted with a shrug. "No harm done, right?"
Smiling a bit more, you ended up nodding and gently pushed up, kissing him slowly and deeply, both of your eyes closing, his hands caressing your face, your hands caressing his forearms...
You're so into the kiss, you don't hear the front door close, nor Johnny approach, until he shows up at the kitchen door. "Greedy bastard, leave some space for the Tav, will ye?"
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taglist (CLOSED! not adding anyone else, sorry!):
@daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling ,
@tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthunter , @bossva ,
@emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe , @kariiiel , @ltbarnes ,
@irregulardongyoung , @spacelia , @hayleybarnesx , @cod-z , @frescoisnotinthemilitary ,
@leeeenistop , @lucienbarkbark , @xxshadowbabexx , @severenswife , @enarien ,
@l0lziez , @whos-fran , @greatstormcat , @openup-yourmind , @neoarchipelago ,
@sodavrr , @cutiecusp , @lilliumrorum , @c-nstantine , @kneelforloki ,
@comeonatmebruh , @codsunshine , @waiting-so-long , @captainquake42 , @gazspookiebear ,
@mynameismisty , @reap3erslov3 , @reaper-chan666 , @poohkie90 , @kitwithnokat ,
@stick-the-dumbass , @mothsdrabbles , @justanerd1 , @thesinsoflust , @thriving-n-jiving ,
@blckbrrybasket , @agoodmoviekiss
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octuscle · 1 month
Text
From tutor to rookie of the year
Hi, my name is Jake. My company has hired me to tutor a few students with poor grades. That's not necessarily the reason why I started working at the auditing company. But first of all, I'm new here and I'm not going to refuse right at the beginning of my career. And secondly, becoming a teacher had actually been an option for me. Maybe it's fate now or something.
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The first lesson gets off to a very promising start. I almost have to tear myself apart to leave your office and get to school on time. But when I arrive, there is a yawning emptiness in the classroom. Only after fifteen minutes I hear noise in the corridor and a couple of football jocks barge in the door. A few still in football gear. And all obviously unshowered after training. Phew, it stinks. And as I look into the handsome, square-cut faces of the boys spraying with testosterone, I'm suddenly back at school. The small, clever but shy boy who, at best, the stars of the football team overlook and, at worst, stuff into the toilet. I clear my throat and say that I'm not here for fun either and that I'm asking for some attention. The boys barely react. Damn it, it's not my problem. I explain a few linear algebra problems on the blackboard and ignore the paper airplanes. I have my school-leaving certificate. I have my master's degree. And my bonus doesn't depend on the grades of these idiots. At least I hope so.
After the debacle of the first tutoring session, my appetite for the second is very dampened. But it was already hard enough to get this internship. The firm is one of the most prestigious accountancy firms in the city. And if my pro bono job as an intern is tutoring the idiots on the football team twice a week, I'll survive. Apart from the 60 hours a week in which I have to pore over balance sheets, that doesn't matter any more.
These days, the musclemen are even on time. And somehow nicer than last time. They even ask me reasonably sensible questions like whether you can predict the trajectories of footballs. I take this as an opportunity to tell them something about vector calculus. They collapse with laughter. "Bro, I was joking. And football isn't math. Football is strength and speed." I'm about to take a breath and say something about Newton and the relationship between force and speed. But instead of listening to me, the jocks start bragging to each other about their heroic stories on the field. And I can't help but listen to them spellbound. When the lesson is over, I look after them with fascination. I wish I could have been more like them at school.
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Shit, because I'm the only nerd on the senior team who isn't a complete failure at sports, Coach made me give math tutoring to the football team. He thinks the Meatheads might have a little bit of respect for me. Shit! Them for me? I for them might be more correct! The thought of explaining math to my secret crush forms a wet spot in my Calvin Klein shorts.
I expected the boys to keep me waiting. If they were also punctual and disciplined off the pitch, they wouldn't need any help. And I don't want to tutor them any more than they want to be tutored. We reach a compromise. You listen to my math tutoring for half an hour. And then we'll go out onto the pitch for half an hour and play a bit of football. God knows I'm not unsportsmanlike. But soccer has somehow never been my sport. I'm more of a swimming pool or gym kind of guy. Team sports? Not really.
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Shit, yeah, I'm no rocket scientist in math. But I have quite good grades in English and history. I'm not going to fail this year. Why the fuck do I have to go to tutoring with the other bros from the football team? I have no idea. But seriously, the tutor is a total loser. A beanpole in a stuffy shirt. The idiot even wears a tie. Seriously, who wears a tie these days? If I had to wear a tie, I'd change jobs. Or if I had to shower after training. Shit, these are just rules that can come from old fat men. Bros like me and my bros smell like test… Testo… Well that hormone stuff. Sweat, musk and Axe. If I didn't have to go straight to detention again, I'd let the loser smell my armpits… But I'm a sophomore on the team right now. Let the juniors and seniors do that.
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"Jack, bro!" This is Chuck. The QB on the team. I can tell by his voice. And by his smell. And I'd also know it by the taste of his cheesy boner…. But he stays locked in his jockstrap cage right now. What a damn shame! "Bro, where were you in tutoring? The dean was there. You're in fucking trouble!" Shit, tutoring! I was at the gym. The other guys are all so pumped. I don't want to lag behind any longer. "Shit, dude, we said you were in the bathroom. The loser tutor didn't dare contradict us. But I think you have to let him suck you off so he doesn't tell on you." Hehehehehe, I like that idea. There are still 40 minutes until football practice… And I haven't cum yet today. "Is the loser still in the classroom?" I ask. Chuck nods. I fist bump him and say that I'll sort it out quickly.
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If Chuck and Matt go to college next year, I have a good chance to be the QB. But until then I still have to build up a lot of mass. Those two are just in a whole different league. And I'm damn jealous of the hair on Matt's chest. You should see the bush under his arms. Dude, the man is going to be a fucking gorilla! Shit, I'm not half the man those two are. You can tell immediately by the size of the bulge in our compression shorts. Nevertheless, neither of them mind if I fuck them. But they like fucking me even more. Without eye contact. Otherwise it would be totally homo!
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We skipped tutoring again today. Coch covers for us while we're in the gym or doing our laps on the cinder track outside. Nevertheless, it's still up in the air whether Chuck and Matt will be at college next year. And whether I'll be a junior by then. But screw it, NFL pros don't need to know math.
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just-jordie-things · 1 month
Note
K so like its night time and y/n is cuddling with megumi and yuji barges in and sees them both and is like “You’re cuddling with megumi are you guys dating?! :O” then the next day everyone is just asking you “aRe YoU rEaLlY dAtInG mEgUmI???” By the way i love your posts❤️
megumi is just so perfect for secret dating bc he would beg you to keep your relationship a secret, like, right off the bat. like before you're even official- probably before he's even confessed.
omg.
megumi coming to you in a panic and it worries you bc you don't often see him stressed and the boy looks like he's about to pop a blood vessel and you're being so sweet to him meanwhile he's grabbing you by the hands and making you swear to not speak a word of this to yuji or nobara- and definitely not gojo. poor confused you are like "ok sure but what are you talking about??" oops megumi forgot about the part where he's supposed to tell you how much he likes you and thinks that you should give him a chance at making you happy- but we all know that goes well because you're literally in love with him already adlhgkajflkgh
and for a while you're pretty good at sneaking around, because it's sort of fun actually. every secret look or note passed has your heart racing and you wouldn't have it any other way, as long as you have each other.
but after a few months the two of you get fully settled with one another and you start to slip up. with megumi pulling your chair out for you or holding the door for you but not the others, you start to get a few questioning looks. and you might have called him megs in front of the others one time- he might not forgive you for that one because now everyone calls him that to get on his nerves... oops.
it's not like either of you are trying to get caught, you both enjoy the benefits of dating in secret so much, you don't necessarily want to give that up. the others will definitely berate and interrogate you one day for keeping your relationship a secret for so long, but... it's just so nice.
"maybe we tell them when we graduate?" you hum, trying to brainstorm with your boyfriend to find the proper way to break the news.
megumi's chest rumbles under your cheek when he groans. if it were up to him, no one would ever know. surely he could have a successful relationship with you that way, right? it's been easy enough to cover it up so far, surely you could elope and build a life together in secret as well? shit, would gojo take it personally if he didn't tell him he was getting married? suddenly his mind is swarming with what a secret private wedding would look like, meanwhile you're laying against him in sielnce waiting for his response.
"megs..?" you call softly, trying to draw him out of his thoughts.
"maybe we fake our deaths. relocate. how's italy sound?"
you chuckle, tilting your head back to peer up at him.
"you're afraid of gojo, aren't you?" you hum knowingly. megumi glances down at you briefly, looking away as soon as you wiggle your eyebrows. you chuckle again.
"i'd be open to other places, too" he continues his thought.
"i think we should just rip it off like a bandaid," you ignore his getaway plan. "tell them we're together and have been all year. then if they have questions-"
"i'm not answering their questions" his voice is a mere whisper, as not to disturb the calming atmosphere you've created, but his words are final. you tap your finger against his chest a few times.
"i'll answer the questions then, you can just... stand there"
"do i even have to be there?"
"i don't think they'll believe me if you aren't" you giggle at the idea of trying to convince them that yes that stoic moody boy is actually a complete romantic towards you and you never thought a love like yours could be possible.
"are you saying our friends don't think i'm boyfriend material?" he asks, and you know he's baiting you, but you're honest with him anyways.
"that's exactly what i'm saying," you say, grinning up at him despite the scowl of fake hurt on his face. "but i know otherwise"
"fine. we'll tell them. and then you can answer the questions. and i'll... be there. for emotional support"
you giggle some more, tucking yourself further against him while he stares at the ceiling in despair. he already knows all of the questions your friends are going to ask and he can't help but dread them in advance. still, it will be nothing compared to the interrogation he'll surely receive from his guardian, later, when you aren't around to protect him (and his dignity)
"it'll be nice to be able to just say we're going on a date instead of you faking to be sick and me pretending i'm on an assignment. sneaking around was fun and all but..." you trail off, and megumi averts his gaze from the plain ceiling, peeking down at you where you nuzzle into the soft fabric of his sweatshirt. he knows you're going to fall asleep on him, because you always do, but he doesn't mind. even if it makes his arm fall asleep. "i don't want to hide how much i love you anymore"
and then his escape plan sounds silly when you put it like that. so he hugs you tighter against him as you start to drift off- he can tell as your head feels a little heavier against his collar- and he brushes his lips over the crown of your head.
"i love you too, sweetheart," he murmurs. "we'll tell them as soon as you want"
he just wasn't expecting the moment to be ruined by his door slamming open and your friends inviting themselves in, only to be shocked at the scene they interrupted.
queue the noisy accusations and questions. megumi tries not to say i told you so as you tiredly sit up and rub your eyes so you can answer all of your friends' curiosities, while he pulls the blanket over his head and tries to pretend he wasn't there.
of course he doesn't want to hide that he loves you... but for fucks' sake do they have to do this here and now????
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glitterquadricorn · 2 months
Text
Look What You Made Me Do - MV1
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+summary: The couple was once thought to be the modern-day Romeo and Juliet (minus the unaliving part). Where you saw her, Max was not too far behind and vice versa. And despite his father's insistence to stay from her, he simply couldn't. He was enthralled by her and her persistence on the track. Together, they rose through the ranks and found themselves to be teammates in Formula one. But their story turns sour when Max betrays her in the worst way possible. +pairing: Max Verstappen x F1!driver +warnings: cheating, mentions the p*quets, curse words, hate comments, poorly edited. If i missed something, let me know.
face claim: Florence Pugh
I do not give my permission to have my work reposted. I do not give my permission to have my work translated. If I'm notified that you've stolen my work or claim it as your own, you'll be asked to take it down before I'll report you. End of discussion.
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Her phone constantly vibrated against the glass coffee table of Max and Her's home. People were mentioning her in a tweet made from one of those wag accounts saying that Max was spotted with another woman that wasn't her and that he could be cheating. 'Max wouldn't cheat on me, right?' she thought to herself. Although, she remembered he had been acting rather weird lately. But him acting weird could mean anything.
The sound of the front door opening and closing and keys hitting the ceramic bowl alerted her that Max was home. Her eyes went straight to the bright orange bag in his hand. The same bright orange bag from the picture in the tweet.
"What's going on in that head of yours, Schatz?" Max hugged her, kissing the top of her head. He smelled like her.
"Thinking about what to make for dinner. Anything in particular?"
"I was thinking we could get takeout."
"Sounds good." She watched as Max turned towards their bedroom and tucked neatly into the collar of his shirt, which was a redbull shirt no shock there, was a semi dark hickey. A hickey she knew she didn't put there. Maybe that one tweet was right.
Dinner that night was a silent affair. The question of rather or not he was actually cheating weighed heavily on her mind. One half of her was being completely ignorant and believing Max would never do such a thing. The other half, the rational half, are putting the pieces together and ringing the alarm bells and are practically shouting from the rooftops that he is most definitely cheating. It was getting to be too much for her.
"Are you cheating on me?"
Max began choking on the water in his mouth. "What? Are you crazy? Where are you even getting this from?"
"It's just- I kept getting tagged in that one tweet-"
"And you believe it? You know those kinds of accounts make stuff up."
"Never said I did, Max," she said. "But explain the orange shopping bag, or how you got that hickey on your neck, or how you smell like none of the perfumes I have."
"I don't have to deal with this." Max stood up from the table and y/n followed after him.
"So, they're true?"
"Y/n, I don't want to talk about this right now."
"Well, that's just too damn bad. We're talking about this now because If we don't it won't get talked about at all."
Max faced her, his body shaking with anger. "Fine! Yes, I did cheat on you. Is that what you wanted to hear? How you weren't good enough and will never be good enough for me? How you'll never be good enough for anyone? How sometimes I can't fucking stand you to be around you? You. are. insufferable."
Her eyes started to fill with tears. In all the years she's known Max, he's never not once gotten this mad nor has he ever been this hateful. As if he realized what he's said, he began to apologize profusely.
"I'm so, so sorry, Schatz." Max tried to come closer to comfort her, but she stepped away.
"Thanks for letting me know how you really feel about me, Max. I'll uh get out of your hair."
"Y/n, please-"
"No amount of apologizing will ever make me forget what you said. You were the love of my life, the man that I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with and have kids with."
"But we can still have that!"
"It's rather funny you're trying to save a relationship you destroyed," she chuckled loudly at Max's audacity. "Tell me, how long have you been cheating? And be honest, I deserve that much."
With his head hung low in shame, he mumbled, "Nearly a year."
"Unbelievable."
Before heading off to their bedroom to pack some clothes, she looked at the man she once loved. "You know, I've dealt with a lot in my life. I've traveled the world seeing it in a whole new light while doing what I loved, been in a crash or two that was painful, seen and experienced things I didn't think I'd be able to experience, but this... this hurts the most."
Once she left the house, she got in her car and tapped on her lawyer's number, texting him.
I don't care how you do it, but just get me out my redbull contract. DON'T TELL ANYONE ABOUT THIS.
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yourinstagram(left) and maxverstappen1(right) . 2hrs ago
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yourinstagram
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liked by taylorswift, lilymhe, pierregasly and 932,312 others.
yourinstagram: Mama Tay once said don't get sad, get even 💅🏻💋#newsponsor #newthingsarecoming
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taylorswift I taught you well young grasshopper. liked by yourinstagram
lilymhe where are you going dressed like that? cause damn. ⤷ yourinstagram sponsorship meeting with a new sponsor.
user1 you want to explain that second picture?
user2 looking respectfully.
user3 new things coming? what's that supposed to mean? ⤷ user4 she did say she got a new sponsor and I assume it's with Chanel. ⤷ user5 I can't help but think the whole new things coming means something else.
pierregasly 👀👀 ⤷ yourinstagram just taking lessons from you.
francisca.cgomes are you single? ⤷ yourinstagram why yes, I am. you asking me out on a date? ⤷ francisca.cgomes of course! ⤷ pierregasly I'm right here you know. ⤷ yourinstagram I'll make sure to have her home before midnight 😉
user6 not y/n flirting with pierre's girlfriend 🤣
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For half an hour, she sat on the couch listening to Lando, Logan, Charles and Pierre answer questions about their summer break, their hopes for the second half of the season and what they want for their teams/cars. Not one question came her way, and she was happy about that. She hated doing media with a passion. She could understand they had bills to pay, families to support, but if she could get away with not doing any kind of media without being fined for it, she'd happily do it.
Just when she thought she'd have an easy day, a reporter she was familiar with, one she has had problems with since her debut in 2021, raised her hand.
"Mackenzie Smith, Espn. I have a question for you, y/n," she smiled. "Over the summer break there was a rumor going around saying you were leaving redbull at the end of the season. Is that true? Can you maybe give some insight on that?"
It's an innocent question to ask, but knowing Mackenzie, she'll somehow go off topic and ask questions she has no business asking about.
"Accounts like that always make up some of the most ridiculous things for clicks. Unfortunately, people believe it and until me, or my agent confirms it, then it's just that. A rumor."
Mackenzie huffed, clearly not satisfied with that answer. But if there's something about Mackenzie everyone should know, is she has a habit of asking rather intrusive questions she has no business asking. "Your relationship with fellow driver, Max Verstappen, ended over the summer break as well."
"My relationship, or lack thereof, is not yours or anyone's business. End of discussion."
"But he-"
"Yeah, and I said end of discussion. What part of that did you not understand?" she paused. "Now, does anyone have any other questions? No? Okay."
She sat the microphone down beside her and walked out the room. Was she going to get lectured by her PR manager? Yeah. Was she going to be fined for walking out? Probably. But she didn't care and if there was one thing she knew she didn't have to sit there and be questioned about her personal life.
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porscheformula1team
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liked by yourinstagram, mickschumacher, and 1,253,549 others.
porscheformula1team: Come meet our drivers! Mick, who is returning to the f1 grid after missing out on the 2023 season and Y/n, who finished 2nd in the drivers' standings. The future for Porsche looks bright!
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yourinstagram Thank you for this amazing opportunity, Porsche. ⤷porscheformula1team: No, thank you for taking the risk and signing with us.
mickschumacher It's good to be back in formula one.
user7 while I am excited for Mick to be back, I just think y/n is a backstabber for leaving a team that pretty built her entire career. ⤷user6 did you honestly think y/n would stick around after Max cheated on her?
user8 this is the best thing to wake up to!
user9 redbull was holding y/n back, so it's a good thing she left.
user10 future wdc winners? liked by mickschumacher, yourinstagram,porscheformula1team
user11 best driver's pairing in f1 liked by porscheformula1team
user12 signing these two was the biggest mistake Porsche ever made. ⤷porscheformula1team we beg to differ. ⤷user13 Porsche defending mick and y/n 🥰🤗
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Max Why didn't you tell me you were leaving? When did you even sign with porsche?
Y/N Didn't know I was obligated to tell you I was leaving. I signed back in August after I got that Chanel sponsor.
Max YOU SIGNED BACK IN AUGUST?! WTF
Y/N I move fast just like you.
Max What's that supposed to mean?
Y/N It means you're okay with getting into a relationship with Kelly 2 weeks after we broke up.
Max You're being childish, y/n.
Y/N Did you really think I'd stay after you cheated? In 2024, you better get used to being behind me because that WDC is mine.
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Don't let this flop. I worked real hard on it.
ALL PICTURES ARE FROM PINTEREST AND CREDIT TO THE OWNERS.
Tagging:
@letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @patzammit @tinycyberhacker @keenmarvellover @mrspeacem1nusone @lendeluxe @alexxavicry @allenajade-ite @catswag22 @eugene-emt-roe @wcnorris @bibissparkles @cherry-piee
715 notes · View notes
20-th-centurygirl · 5 months
Text
work for it
jude bellingham x reader
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a/n: based on this because i can't get over it
summary: jude slides into your dms and what follows is something you could have never imagined
navigation masterlist
𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧
instagram:
judebellingham started following you
surely not? why was the jude bellingham following you??
yourusername added to their story
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↳ judebellingham: 😍😍
yourusername: hello 🤨
judebellingham: hey
judebellingham: just wanted to say i think you're gorgeous
yourusername: thank you 🫶
judebellingham: anytime
you couldn't actually believe what you were seeing. jude bellingham calling you gorgeous? what sort of dream were you living in? you tried not to get too excited, you'd heard all about his reputation and he'd probably never give you a second thought. but you were wrong.
2 days later
instagram
judebellingham: hey
judebellingham: how are you doing
yourusername: i'm doing great
yourusername: how are you doing? i saw your last few madrid games and you played great
judebellingham: thanks. i'm good
judebellingham: maybe you should come to a game one day 😉
the next 6 months that followed were a dream. you'd exchanged phone numbers with jude a month after your first conversation and you'd spoken every day since. you'd congratulated him after every win and comforted him after every loss. facetiming eachother became your nightly routine and you couldn't believe how lucky you were.
but you tried to take it all with a grain of salt. jude had a reputation of being a player, something you already knew and had been reminded of by your friends. you were more than a fuck and you wanted jude to know that.
jude: hey love
jude: i've got a big game and i was wondering if you want to come and then stay over with me for a few days? i really wanna see you again
you: i'll try to come but i don't know if i'll be able to get the time off
jude: just let me know so i can get enough tickets x
you didn't really know how to react. you loved meeting jude for the first time, but the idea of going over to stay with him scared you. you'd started to really like jude, and worried that he only wanted to get you to come over to him so sleep with you.
you knew all about his reputation, and you didn't think you knew him well enough so you slowly distanced yourself from jude.
jude: can you come? we haven't spoke in a few days and i need to know
you: i can't come sorry. the next weeks just super busy for me :(
the following week consisted of you and jude barely speaking. you felt bad about it, you didn't mean to upset him but you didn't want to get your hopes up. you'd heard about footballers and the way they had casual hookups then ignored girls. you didn't want that. you were worth more than that and you didn't want to get hurt by jude because he didn't have the same intentions as you.
but jude was on the exact same page as you. he didn't understand why you'd just basically disappeared, had he done something wrong? did he make you feel like he was rushing you? he'd tried to call you, but you didn't answer, instead texting him a simple "sorry i've been busy lately" and leaving him alone.
at first jude tried to appreciate that you were just abit busy. he knew you cared alot about your studies and work and were independent, but he couldn't help feeling a bit hurt. nothing in your routine had actually changed, and jude had started to get the impression you were ignoring him on purpose.
you wouldn't answer his calls and barely texted him, so he decided to come to you. he messaged one of your closest friends that he'd met before and asked her to help him suprise you.
the pounding on your door abruptly woke you up, and you swung it open with a scowl on your face until you saw who was behind it. your eyes locked with judes, and you couldn't actually believe he was infront of you holding the biggest bunch or roses you'd ever seen.
jude's heart melted at the sight of you. your hair messy, a duvet wrapped about you and a tired grin on your face. "jude?"
"hi" his voice was shakey but he smiled widely regardless.
"what're you doing here? come in you're gonna get ill"
he stepped in, shutting the door behind him but he didn't dare move any further. "i'm sorry. if you want me to leave i will but i just wanted to see that you were ok. we've suddenly just stopped speaking and i was worried that i pressured you. i'm sorry if i made you think i was pushing you to get too serious to fast. i just really like you"
"seriously?"
"yes"
"jude i'm so sorry. i didn't wanna upset you i just got scared. i know all about footballers reputations and yours and i just didn't wanna be another girl that you just sleep with then ignore" you felt mean saying it. super mean.
"what? look i've done that before but you're so so different. everything about you is so perfect. your laugh, your eyes, how kind you are, the way you always see the best in people. i've known you for six months but i feel like i've known you all my life. you're literally perfect. i'm sorry if i made you feel like i didn't see you that way. i will do whatever it takes to prove to you how much you mean to me" he brought his hands up to cup your cheeks and you leaned into them, the warmth of his palms and his words making love wash over you.
"i really really like you jude" you mumbled, and he grinned wide "good cause i really really like you too"
"y'know, if you can still get me tickets i'll come to your matches"
"don't feel like you have to baby"
"i do. i want us to spend more time together jude"
he pulled you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you. "d'ya wanna go and get breakfast tomorrow? it can be our first proper date" he lightly pinched your side, melting when he felt a smile form on your face. "i'd like that"
977 notes · View notes
cyrusthedragon · 10 months
Text
Mother of his child
Explicit ‼️ MDNI ‼️ NSFW 18+
I promised and I did: Simon sucks his wife's titties while talking about a big happy family with her.
Relationship: Simon Ghost Riley / f!Reader
Tags: porn with plot, dominance, married couple, rough sex, established relationship, breastfeeding, creampie, LOTS of dirty talk, some of spit play, LOTS of milk, LOTS of breeding, LOTS of 'mama'-calling, nasty stuff, happy family fluff for aftercare, size kink, sex after some time, no "Ghost", babying Simon.
Simon Riley really loves his wife, like... possessively. Almost obsessively.
Notes:
f!Reader gained weight after giving birth, and she has too much milk. Greedy and perverted Simon can't think about her selling her milk to people who have feeding problems. He's jealous.
You and Simon serve(d) together.
(Kinda, cuz it's funny, but not actually) Bossy!Reader in the end.
You and Simon have a newborn child.
Trigger warning: English isn't my first language, so, please, write a comment if I did a good job, I need to know if it's good, cuz I'm not really sure. But i enjoyed writing it! You can subscribe to me, I'll write a lot more about him! And I take requests, hehehe, especially most dirty ones. So. Please, enjoy ♥️
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AO3
"You'll bore a hole in me..." you said under your breath, touching baby girl with just your fingertips and not taking your eyes off of her.
Simon immediately straightened his back, paying attention to the book in his hands again, and you chuckled softly:
"What's going on in your mind, baby?"
Silence in the room, only a soft melody from somewhere in the house, and the three of you sitting in your bedroom: you, feeding your precious baby girl, she, smacking from the delicious milk, and your husband, trying to pretend he's reading his book. Considering how he didn't touch a single page for the last fifteen minutes, he was either repeating that one spread or trying to memorize it all.
Or just being a pervert.
It's Simon we're talking about, no one on Earth would ever suspect him of thinking about something nasty, but... You were his wife. Mother of his child.
You knew there was something in those blue eyes of his - he looked at you exactly like that one day when you... When you decided to have a child.
You weren't, actually.
It was an accident.
But when you told him about your pregnancy and asked if you should take a Plan B, for one moment after that horrific word, he looked at you, almost shaking from nervousness, with something in his eyes that you recognized as a... Reluctance? "Yeah," he cleaned his throat, moved his gaze away because, obviously, the floor was way more interesting than a damn pregnancy test in your hands, "yes, you're right, Plan B... We shouldn't.. we should, uh...". Words have never been one of his strengths, if you were not in bed.
You looked at him trying very hard to say something, and one thing in him just matched you so perfectly, that for one second you thought maybe.. maybe...
"Can we keep-"
"What if we..."
You said it at the same time, and neither you nor he understood who was saying what, but the excitement was so loud, that you couldn't resist impulses to grab his hands. Neither could he help but stretch out his arms to you and hold you to give you a hug, even if he himself was just as terribly scared.
That shit was scary. No doubt.
It would not have been that horrifying if not for these thoughts of yours. Common.
"If we..." you heard Simon speaking, felt him swallowing loudly, "Maybe, if.. maybe we can..."
"Can keep it?" you helped, squeezing him with all your strength just to feel yourself safe. "You think we can?.."
"I think... I think I want to, but.."
"You want?"
And that was the moment when you moved away a little to look him straight in the eyes, seeking there for something you weren't sure exactly what.
"Yes?.." he answered under his breath. As freaked out as you were. Of course, he was. Both of you were soldiers, to the core. No one of you ever dares to dream about having a baby... It's a huge responsibility, and neither he nor you thought you could handle it, that's why you always used protection to minimalize your chances. It doesn't mean you didn't want to - hell yes you wanted, especially with Simon, and the more you got to know him, the better you understood he wanted this, too.
A family.
A real family, bonded with each other, someone you can hold in your hand and give all your love, all your affection, untapped awe for having something you and Simon created together. Holy hell, you married a dead man, did you think you had no strength for a little human? Just a baby? It took almost half of a year for you and Simon to finally get married, you took his last name and did it with all your patience, although the boys in one-four-one started calling you Mrs. Riley a long time before you became Mrs. Riley, and all these troubles, years of waiting for something with him, all this situationship, candy-bouquet period, all of it...for being afraid of having a child? It can't be that ha-
You were selfish.
Thinking about yourself, not your baby, who would most likely live alternately with one parent, then with the other - depending on which one of you would be called for a mission. You knew it. You knew you can have your parental leave, for twelve weeks, and, and, and...
"..ve. Love!" you shuddered - Simon rarely used to raise his voice at you, and often it was because of how easily you were distracted by thinking about something very important to you. You lose your patience when you were afraid of something. You blinked, looked up at him, and suddenly he was so calm that you were immediately infected by his calmness, without realizing it. "Breathe, love," he whispered, holding your face in his palms, so huge compared to your head. "Do you want to keep her?" and when he asked, looking you dead in the eyes, he already knew your answer, but...
You breathed out: "Her?"
Eyes to eyes, one very important dialogue without a single word between you, your shiny to his bright, deep ocean blue. "I want a girl," he whispered, not even blinking. "I want a boy", you said lowing your voice to match his, and he nodded, pulling you closer to touch your forehead with his. "Then... Let's see who it will be," Simon's lips were so close to yours, you half closed your eyes, pressed your lips into a tight line, and then closed them completely when he murmured in your mouth before kissing you full of his endless gratitude: "...shall we?"
And that was it.
You lost your little bet and were very happy about it.
The little one was happy, too, sucking milk, already ready for her beauty sleep, so beautiful, and a bit... sassy, biting your swollen nipple with per pink gums, making you hiss and chuckle softly. She had her father's shiny eyes. Your love. Your precious child.
"Simon, darling, you're staring." You finally moved your eyes from your daughter to your husband, smiled at him and he could no longer pretend he was reading his book. He wasn't. "Am I?" you heard him sighing, but his gaze started to be a little more... heavier than a second before you decided it was enough for baby girl and took her away from your chest. "Yes, darling, you are," your voice softened, small one whined, lying on the bed, twitching her hands and feet, and you giggled: "What a greedy creature... Never enough for her." But she quickly calmed down - the music changed to a comforting lullaby... You could finally get up and stretch your legs, fix your dressing gown, and move to Simon, sitting on the armchair.
"You didn't answered my question."
Baby monitor right behind your girl, and you allowed yourself to go straight to the kitchen - hungry as hell, while Simon simply followed your steps God knows why.
"What question?" He asked, watching you getting your snacks.
Bare feet, loose hair, mid-thigh gown, and the wet spots in it, right in front of your nipples. You're still leaking. And mouth-watering. And holy shit he just can't stop looking at your covered chest, how heavy your breasts are, how they freely jiggle when you're just moving. "Simon." he can't hear you, all his nature is focused there where your nipples touch your closes, these eyes are wild. You watched him, busy analyzing your chest or whatever, and didn't get yet the hell was wrong, but it's Simon, so... Whatever he was thinking about he would tell you, sooner or later.
But you didn't expect 'sooner' will be that...soon.
You turned your back to him to find something in the fridge and gasped when he suddenly lifted you, sitting you on the table, face to him. "Riley, the hell are you?!-" and then you met his eyes again.
Truly, wild.
"What? Eat your food, love." his voice was strange, he completely was strange, something just cracked in you, a blush appeared in your cheeks immediately, then he pulled back the gown and your hand trembled, accidentally dropping a snack on the floor.
He bared your chest with a face like nothing happened, and you swallowed your tongue like a proper coward, did not know how - did not want to - stop him and did not even try to interrupt whatever he was going to do. You felt the shivers down your spine - his hands on your ribs, fingertips almost tickling you, forcing you to smile, but there was nothing to smile about, just your husband being odd and making your legs shake with just his hands.
God, you didn't touch him for almost six months...
"I can't," you whispered, shutting your eyes while feeling his hand off you and somehow knowing for sure he was pulling his mask up to his nose.
"Why?" The hoarse voice of his just drove you crazy. Your brain was about to explode with this sudden satisfaction he brought to you by massaging your torso and jelly belly, and you couldn't answer properly: "Because you... What are you... Just take what you want already." You hissed, and maybe it would be fear for him to feel embarrassed by your tone and hands, hugging his head, but he did not care anymore or simply did not understand that, so he just... Did it.
You felt his wide tongue in front of your nipple.
And you inhaled.
"Simon... Simon, what are you doing, Simon..."
Your voice was less caring than you wanted it to be, and he didn't even look at you to answer: "Joining you to eat a snack."
"Oh I'm a snack now, wonderful..." words came out of your mouth before you shut it, "You little pervert, are you seriously going to su-... Oh, god."
Tongue swept all over your breast before Simon straightened up to his full height - and even though you were sitting on the table, he had to tilt his head to look at you. Giant. His gaze was much heavier than before, his pupils bigger, his brows furrowed to let you know, he was ashamed of you:
"That's how your talking to a baby, love?" Simon murmured and you did not even try to believe what you heard. He continued, seeing your confusion: "I see... I'm no longer your baby, am I?"
"Wha-.."
Oh.
'"What's going on in your mind, baby?"'
So that's what it was all about.
"You pervert," you said, watching him laying you down on the table and towering over you like he was some kind of mountain of muscles. This whole situation was quite crazy, and you swallowed, losing all your boldness just because of how dominant he became, taking your hands in his one so tightly that you couldn't move your fingers if you wanted to. Breath-taking Simon. First, you met on your first night together. A completely different person than what you usually see. His gaze was on you, examining you - how the fabric glided effortlessly over your body, showing up your ribs, tummy, chubby sides (you gained some weight after giving birth and were a little worried about it, but the way he cravingly looked at your fat...), your white panties, already wet for him. Of course, you were wet. He was between your legs, holding your hands, ready to eat you up.
"'Baby?..'" you whispered under him, trying to move your feet, but his other hand grabbed your knee abruptly and pushed it aside, leaving you completely open to him. "Don't try to hide, mama," you gasped at his words, heart started beating faster, and his head lowered to touch your belly with his lips. Soft and full. "It's nothing you need to be ashamed of.. if it's not me. Are you ashamed of me, mama?". Impossible, how he affected you with this damn 'mama' spoken by his powerful, quiet voice, "You don't need to be ashamed. Didn't you say today that your breasts are full? Don't you remember?".
You swallowed your saliva, chest up and down, and your voice cracked when Simon slightly touched underneath your filled breast, "I said we can sell it... There are many people with.. problems with.. with feeding. Simon, what are you-"
"Stop asking. You don't trust me?"
"I do, but-"
"No 'but'."
You should've said something, but when he grabbed your tit with his wide palm, compressed your nipple lightly between the index and middle fingers, everything that was in your head vanished immediately. Milk ran out over his fingers, to his wrist, and tangled in his short hair above the tattoo. "So easily, mama," he murmured, following the drop of your milk, "you're so full.. and you wanna give this to someone else? You wanna take it away from our daughter? Deprive her of that, mama? Is that what you want for her?"
You just said there's too much milk in you, useless milk, because your girl never starved, but the mere idea of giving part of you to someone who wasn't his child, just made him so, so jealous. You choked - Simon pulled your nipple with his fingers as if in punishment.
"No, no, of course not, I just wanted..."
And then the moon fell:
"You can give it to me." Your eyes widen in shock. And you saw him raise his milk-stained hand and watched his tongue follow the line from elbow to finger, licking your juice. "Sweet..." He murmured, "So sweet, so delicious..." And before you even realized, he sat you up at that table, wrapped his hand around you, and pressed his open, greedy mouth to your milking breast, moaning, like it was the best thing he ever tasted. A cry escaped your lips, you instantly grabbed his head, closed your eyes tightly - your nipples were so, so sensitive after feeding, and now he almost ate 'em. Shivers ran through your body, every cell was tense, trembling legs closed behind his back, as if locking him with a fuckin' padlock pressed against your body, yet still fully dressed. "Madman," you whined, squeezing the back of his balaclava, "you're a madman, Simon Riley, you're out of your mind...Teeth-!" Your sob forced him to let go of your chest with a loud smack, just like your baby did before, and the marks of his teeth were clearly visible on the soft, full flesh around your nipple.
"Watch your teeth- god, you-" you cried out, almost ready to hit him on the back, but then he, stooped, suddenly looked up at you, so innocent, so open, that something in your gut began to tighten. "Something wrong, mama?" He said, and you miraculously felt how his second hand was lost between your thighs. Breath didn't want to recover, he clung to you, pressing his cheek against your chest, and milk flowed out of you harder.
"No..." You answered, not sure if he's a pervert for calling you 'mama', or you for enjoying it so much, "Nothing wrong, baby... Just.. watch your teeth, okay?" Eyes to eyes, without a blink, you sucked air through your teeth and slowly put your trembling hand at his half-covered cheek, stroking until he closed his eyes, "You want to be good for mama, don't you, baby?"
"Mhm", he whispered, kissing your hand softly.
You didn't know your first sex with Simon after such a long time would be like that, but his finger, just one, was in your underwear and it pressed your clit so good, that you almost lost your mind, tilt you head back.
"I will be good for you, but I'm so mad at you..." Suddenly his voice softened and your hips tensed; his palm was fully in your panties, squeezing your cunt, pressing the middle finger to the entrance.
"Why mad, baby?.."
"I'm so mad you want to give yourself to someone else, mama," and when he opened his eyes, his finger entered you on the first finger phalanx, you hold your breath and bit your lip - you forget how big his fingers were, one of his like two of yours, and there was no lubricant, just your sloppy juices. Every tiny scar on his finger was fully felt, every callus, every cut. "You wanted to share yourself with hell knows who. That's how you feel about us, love? Is that it? Instead of giving everything to your, to my child, our child, you were going to.. what?" finger thrust further, you gasped, he pressed you into himself tighten. One small kiss to your neck and you already was useless, when he lifted you again and whispered in your ear while carrying you to the couch and putting you on his thighs so that you could lay down on him completely naked.
You don't need clothes, do you?
"You were going to waste it, love." He continued. "Instead of calling me, your husband, to help you."
"Help me with what?.. sucking this milk?.."
"Exactly, love."
You would've chuckled, but then there was a crack and your torn panties fell to the floor.
He tore them on you.
Animal.
"Beast..." You whispered, putting your head on his shoulder and feeling him squeezing your tits once more with both his hands.
"Me?" Simon's soft laughter was almost unbelievable, "No, no... I'm not. You are. A little cow, mama. Leaking your sweet milk. Just like a cow. Allowing me to drink it..." he pressed his face into your chest, threw you back, milk splashed from your nipples and hit him right on the balaclava, "What a mess you are. You're looking? Look carefully." fingers squeezed one nipple, twisted, pulled, milk splashed in all directions, flowed all over your chest and down to your torso, and his hands, warm, making you whine and mumble in pain in half with pleasure, just like a cow. "Oh love, and not just here. Don't take your eyes off, watch how wet you are, you ruined my clothes," his second hand went down to your groin, suddenly you wanted to cover yourself, but his middle and index fingers had already opened your vulva, revealing his hungry gaze your lower lips. "Look at you, you're soaking, mama... Do you hear it? That's your sound."
The sloshing of your juices as he circled around your entrance, the crackling of his clothes as you squeezed his shoulders, your whimpering as he purposely ignored your hard clit - all this cacophony was his symphony for your ears, and only yours.
"You sound so well, love..."
"Simon.. Simon, please, Simon..."
"What 'please'?"
"Simon, please, I want to kiss you..."
"Kiss me then."
"No! No! Please, Simon, I want to kiss you so bad... Please let me just-" and your shaking fingers touched the edges of his balaclava, throwing aside.
Scars.
Scars all over his face.
His bright eyes, his short blond hair, and all these scars made him look way older than he was. Breath-taking Simon.
You couldn't resist the impulse to praise him like he always secretly loved:
"You're so beautiful..." Fingers ran over his cheeks, cheekbones, brows, nose, lips, so kissable, you pressed your mouth to his with a hiss, feeling Simon again in you with his whole finger. "Damnit, baby..." You said, silencing him by taking his tongue with yours.
His hand on your ass, his finger fucking you, so tight girl, he loves feeling your walls around him, up and down - you got up on him, fucking yourself with his finger, and lowered to feel how he put his second finger to your entrance. Your breath hitched as he broadened your entrance, slowly pushing himself inside. Juices sloshing, his panting against your neck, his other hand gripping your ass so hard it threatened to bruise it, and his fingers fucking you like he was re-examining you - twisting the hand, pushing in, speeding up and massaging your inner lips and your clit, making you moan so loud, thank god rooms were soundproof. "I want to be inside you so bad, mama..." You heard him, hissing in your skin, biting it with his sharp teeth, you could've just hugged him tighten, "So wet, so delicious, look at you, how beautiful you are, ready to carry my second child...are you ready, mama?"
"Second child?.." you whispered barely audible, eyes watering from his aggressive pounding, and almost whining when the sound of unfastening the belt reached your ears and the cold steel of its plate touched your hot skin.
"Of course," and he didn't even stop pounding you, that dirty pervert; pulled his boxers down, letting the cool air touch the head of his cock. Red, wet head. Big. Thick. You didn't have to look at it to instantly lower your palms down and, howling like a wild dog, grab his cock with your both hands. "Fuck, love..." He cursed, clutching your ass, "You missed me, huh? Did you?"
"I did, I did, so much, baby, so much..." your trembling voice, your confident hands stroking his already hard fat dick, your cunt, shrinking from the memory of how sweetly he filled you that last time before your pregnancy... You, cock-drunk, beneath him, full with his thick hot sperm and covered by it all over your body - your ass, your vulva, your belly, your face; he came so much then, it was your first night together after you both returned from your mission. And now you can have it again... Finally.
"Pink on your cheeks suits you, love," he murmured, stroking your cheek like you did with his, "but I prefer your tears..." and before you even understood, his tongue already was on your face, licking off salty tears, mumbling, moving his hips to you while you jerked him off. "Everywhere... Wet everywhere... Did you always have been such a dirty fat slut?.. Crying, milking, soaking... I can eat you alive. Show me your mouth," he took his hand off your butt, roughly opened your mouth, looked, "Oh, I see... Would you mind, if I-"
And you felt his saliva on your tongue before Simon finished his sentence.
"There you go, such a good girl..."
But he didn't even think about letting you swallow his spit, and while you were trying to get back into rhythm, drunk on his saliva, he threw you onto the sofa, covering you from above, like a goddamn wall: "No, no, don't close your mouth." An animal, a real beast, twice your size, towered over you, mocked you, deprived you of his fingers and you could only helplessly scratch his hands near your head and push your pelvis in him, trying to somehow sit on his cock with your pathetic leaky pussy. "Don't close your mouth, you don't want me to fuck you, mama?" Sly bastard, so different, so cold, so soft for all of them, role model, best fighter, squad pride...Made fun of you, so turned on. You nearly hated him for this, but couldn't deny how you loved him above you.
"I want," trembled lips parted, saliva flowed slowly down your tongue to its root, your heavy breath was the only music for him.
"You want? Then be good for me, and I'll be good for you, mama, your good, good baby boy, mama... I would be anything for you, open your mouth, open it, let me fill you everywhere, will you, please?"
You barely had time to grab his short hair when he pressed his mouth to your mouth, but your tongues did not touch each other, you only shared your breath with him, as you always did, and when the tip of his fat cock touched your entrance, you held your breath, feeling how, along with his length, ripping you apart, widening you, inch by inch, he poured into you also his spit. Thick saliva - that's how hungry he was for you, his mouth was full of this viscous liquid.
"Good mama," words were hard for you, he closed his eyes, stopped at how tight you were, grabbed your leg, and slung it on his belt, thrusting deeper into you. Each vein on his long cock, each brought so much pleasure to extremely tight you... It was nearly impossible to move, but he always was stubborn and even when the drop of sweat ran over his neck, he continued entering you, sadistically slowly. "Relax for me," he almost begged, and you whispered:
"I've already..."
"So that's how tight you actually are, then, huh?" Seems Simon was starting to lose patience, fingers of one hand pressed on the upholstery of the sofa near your head, the second he squeezed your breast as if in revenge: "I almost forgot how it's like...when you're not in the shape of my cock." he sucked in air through clenched teeth, staring into the tears in your eyes, like he wanted to lick them again, "But it's okay..." He continued, thrusting you exactly to halfway of his cock, "We have plenty of time to make you perfect for me again, love. It's okay. I'll fuck you 'til you'll be open for me every time I want to fill you with my cum. You like my cum?" you cried, his heavy hand gave a slap on your ass, "Of course you do... Mama's such a slutty thing, she's always ready for me to cum in her, give her so much of my sperm, so she can give birth to our future big family."
"Big..." You whined about how he was ripping you with his dick, demonically slowly to the very core, to the root. You felt the warmth of his full, heavy balls, as he promised, filled with his cum just for you, and your back arched in an unthinkable angle, as soon as you felt the coarse hair on his groin.
"Yes, love, big family," and even his mumbling reached you with difficulty, you suffered on him, scratched him, beat, squeezed him with your legs, wriggled like a snake, and he hung over you, indestructible, like a rock, tried to take a breath from the pain in the cock. "Me, you, our children, so many children..."
And there was the first thrust.
Right on the nerves.
Until the pitiful cry and eyes rolled back.
Big, big, big-
So fucking big-
"What, you can't handle me anymore?" his hoarse rough voice came from above and your body shook as he thrust into you and slap your thigh, leaving the big red shape of his five fingers. "How you're going to have my children then? Be the mother of my babies, raise 'em, feed 'em with that delicious milk of yours-" Simon compressed one of your nipples again and you choked on a scream as the milk spurted freely up. "Dirty, dirty mama..." Was his only response.
And he fucked you.
To the cries, putting all his strength into you, moaning loud and clear, just like you love, forcing you to beg for his cock, but already fuckin' you, watching your tits jiggle and milk splash everywhere, spoil his clothes, get on your cheeks. To legs shaking, to an exhausted body, growling in your face how much he's going to cum in you so that you burst from his sperm, pregnant with his children, forever, for your whole life, so everyone, every fucking single one from everywhere could see whose are you, who you belong to. This belly, squishy and fatty, this face, these tits, hips, legs, feet, mouth, this milk, and other juices, these eyes, beautiful, beautiful eyes, these delicious lips, this heart and soul - all, all for him and his children, all for the Riley family, all of it for them and no one else, no one fuckin' else. You're trapped here, you're never gonna leave this man and his child, you belong to them with your whole being, you understand that? Do you, mama? Do you understand there's no escape, he would fight Death if that sucker would ever allow himself to at least think about taking you away from Simon; he would fight Death, and he would kill it because no one has the slightest right to take even a piece of you from him.
"Mine," he groaned, sinking his fangs into your neck, suddenly grabbing you by the waist and lifting so that you sat on his cock as tightly as physically possible, and kept fucking you, beating out from you every moan, every deep scratch your nails left on his shoulders as you bathed his neck with your tears. Pressed into each other, like two halves of a whole, crazy, lost in each other, interwoven, and you won’t understand where you begin and he ends. Your cunt hurts, but the pain is so sweet that you're not sure you want to cut it, you're not sure you want him to stop, to be more gentle, not pounding you like a fucking hammer, and the angle is so right - you can feel not just his dick deep inside you, but how your clit is stimulated by him, his rough movements. Oh, this beast, this madman, this insane man... So insane just for you. You cried out, moaned: "Simon... Simon! Simon!" as if it was the only thing you remembered in your life, and the rubbing of your bare nipples against his outer clothing forced you to snuggle closer to him and at the same time as if trying to get away from him.
He was no longer there, he was all inside you, thrusting you like it was his last day, angry, but carrying you so perfectly that you could've let yourself lay on him, and you knew he would never let you fall.
"Simon, Simon, listen, listen to me, please-" your trembling voice almost vanished in all these sex sounds, but he pushed you closer (there was no 'closer') and you simply whined: "Simon, I'm going to cum, I'm going to cum, I'm going to- I want to cum so bad- please, Simon, I wanna cum, I want you to cum, please, cum with me, please-" Your fingers pulled back his hair. You yourself pulled back, arched in your back, and instantly your muscles contracted on his cock, forcing him to fall, falling with you on the soft sofa. A little more and he would've crushed you with his weight, but with a desperate groan he managed to grab your hands and, lacing your fingers together, lean on them to hang over you, not for a second slowing down the speed of his deep, passionate thrusts.
Your useless legs struggled to stay on his lower back, your breasts were shaking painfully and you felt the blessing of heaven when he clung to you, pressed, as tightly as it was physically possible, and instantly squeezed you in both his hands. "Cum for me," he moaned in your ear, his veiny cock almost touched your uterus, but it seemed that if he wanted to, he would fuck your womb just to impregnate you. "Cum for me, mama, let me see how happy you are to be pregnant for me, just for me, showing people how you love me, scream, mama..."
Heavy breathing, deep unforgiving pounds, bursting cock, burning heart, nails scratching his strong broad back, ribs compressed with iron arms - and you, so tiny compared to him, you, so little, so fragile looking in his arms... were ready for anything for this man. "Cum for me," he ordered, grunted, and you tensed on him, squeezed him with all your might to his own loud moan, and tears gushed from your helplessly rolled eyes. His moans, low but beautiful, just for you, were the only thing you heard in your petite mort.
And his seed filling you, hot, thick, was the only thing you felt.
The maddening feeling of being filled with rich cum, his cum, your husband's, your man's, drove you to a silent scream, to open mouth from which no sound came out, and saliva flowing down from the edge of your mouth only to dry on your cheek when you tilted your head back. And as if boiling sperm in you, poured into your insides.
"Greedy mama..." you didn't even come to your senses when you focused your blurred vision on Simon overhanging you, cupping your wet cheek with his large hand. His quiet, purring voice settled in your head like a gooey honey. You could nearly discriminate his words. Not understanding what was happening around, hearing only his voice and feeling only him in you, you were like gutted and thrown into the light while his sweat dripped on you from above, and his heavy breathing only miraculously did not blow you away. "Just like that..." Even his voice cracked, this man couldn't resist the devil, and mumbled inaudibly: "So good for me... So good... Such a good girl..."
Hot seed in you, his weight on you, his warmth all over you, his loud breath and your inner muscles tightening and loosening around him while he, overstimulated, continued moving in you, also overstimulated, and the movements were so...gentle ... So soft... His soft pounds, his smooth swings, almost like trying to rock you, but that orgasm was so blinding, you couldn't breathe, you couldn't concentrate on the outer world, just him and his hands, his hips between your legs, his balls tightly pressed to you, his cock inside you completely... So... Soft... Hot... Your body temperature was almost past its peak... And that gentle touch Simon gave you on your belly, lying his head on your shoulder.
After what he did, you barely remember how carrying he was... This big softie...
"You..." your hoarse voice sounded like you hadn't spoken in at least ten years, there was fuckin' Sahara in your throat, and your eyes couldn't even close from the experienced orgasm, "What you just... What you... Wha-...."
Tied tongue refused to obey.
You literally could not utter a word, only mumbling something incomprehensible.
Boneless.
Dry out.
Dehydrated.
The son of a bitch literally sucked all the juice out of you.
"Si..bl... Bml... Ah......"
And when he, as exhausted as you, pulled away to kiss you on the pink hot cheek, after all, that he had done, you nearly could look at how calm he was.
"You alright, love?"
Blue eyes glanced at you in slight worry, he stroked your wet hair, raised himself with both hands to look at you, but you could not take your eyes off him. You stared at him in disbelief or shock - doesn't matter, you just experienced the nastiest sex in your life, and he was so calm, so confident, like nothing happened, like it was a daily basis for you - being fucked 'til semiconscious state while your husband was 'mama'-calling you and sucking your tits, and, holy shit, did that really-
"Do I..." You swallowed, looking him dead in the eyes, without a single blink. "Do I look like I'm alright?... Do I?... And what happened with 'mama', baby?.. what happened with 'mama'?" suddenly your voice became demanding, insistent, from somewhere you found the strength to weakly hit him in his rock-hard shoulder, and Simon's eyes flashed with shame for a second, then he moved them from you, almost trying to hide, while leaving your core and sitting on the edge of the sofa at your useless boneless legs still shaking from whatever the hell that just was.
He inhaled, "I..."
"Shut up." and he closed his mouth instantly, staring at the floor, even before he heard properly what you said. "You sucked my milk."
"Um..."
"I said shut the fuck up- You just- where are my pills?"
"What?"
The slight surprise in his voice almost pissed you off and it was funny how he almost trembled with fear and tried to shrink under your gaze: he, that behemoth of a man, two meters tall, mountain of muscles, Lieutenant, a brave soldier of the Queen, Chain Dog of Captain Price and Commander Lasswell, trembling under your gaze, your, women half his height, twice as weaker than he ever was, furthermore, unable now to even wake up on her own, move her limbs, he was fuckin' scared-
Indeed.
You did have power over him.
"My pills." You barely raised your voice and he already was on his feet, pulling on his pants and trousers, looking for your plan B.
You watched him, nervously seeking after them, making as much noise in the bathroom as he would never make on a battlefield, and you could almost see his shaking hands turning the whole room upside down.
"We're gonna have a nice long talk about all of it," you heard yourself surprisingly serious, when he came to you with a glass of water and your medicine, helping you, holding your head for you to drink, "we gonna..." you swallowed the pill from his hands, drank all the water from the glass without taking your eyes off him, and exhaled loudly as he kissed your cheek after.
"We're gonna?.." he echoed you and you saw him squatting down next to the couch, against your head, so you could lie down and look him straight in the eyes without getting tired.
"We're gonna clear up your... This. Simon."
"Mhm?"
"Eyes on me."
"They already are, ma'am."
You could've laughed, because he never called you that unless you were extremely serious about small things in your life, no one ever saw him mocking you, or smiling like this, widely and openly, but there were topics you wanted to discuss before admitting that both of you were total perverts, and nothing would even help you clean your conscience from it.
To be fair, you didn't actually want.
You knew he was more playful, more... Different when you were alone, there were demons inside his pretty blonde-haired head, that was true, you knew the man you married, and he never was such a jealous person without any reason, and... You didn't know how, but you were sure this talk about 'sharing with someone else' wasn't just... Dirty talk. There was something else deep inside.
"You're thinking too loud, love," you heard him hawed it out and then felt his strong hands on your aching legs. "Again."
"I'm just... You know what?"
"Mm?"
"We... We should..."
"We should?.."
"We should... Holy hell, Simon... You..."
"I was serious about what I said, love."
Boom.
You tilted your head, met his eyes, moving from your legs to your face.
His deep and at first sight as if almost naive eyes.
"About?..." You whispered, feeling something strange growing inside you with every second he was looking deep into your soul.
Nasty, nasty soul.
"About having a big family." you felt his gentle kiss on your ankle, his head relaxed near your feet, he mumbled, "We already have one pretty girl... I want more. I want... I want to come home... And see a hoard of children running to me... Meeting me... And you... And then I'll sit with them, and you will work, and, imagine... Coming home, where there'll be a bunch of kids, siblings, maybe playing with each other, or arguing, or... Else. Our little world."
"Our little world..."
Unbelievable.
Dreamy, absorbed in his fantasies, soft, affectionate Simon. Telling you about that.
"Even if we could... What if something goes wrong?.." you couldn't resist your fears, not for yourself, but for hypothetical children. "What if... We won't be able to give them what they deserve?.."
And suddenly he smirked:
"I'm not telling you making a second one right now, am I?" your eyes met, your uncertain, and his, surprisingly romantic. "I'm just... Maybe we shouldn't stop at just one. She needs a friend. We were able to do so many things. I will buy a big house somewhere in the middle of nowhere..."
"With a garden and greenhouse?"
"Yep. I will arrange the area. Maybe we can have cows?"
"And chicken."
"And chicken. And..."
And you completed his sentence without looking at him, just knowing what he would say:
"...and have a daydream house with white picket fence and a golden retriever..."
"I prefer Alsatian."
There was something wrong with this man. Who was without a drop of doubt thinking that you two, and now with the third little human, can have that unrealistic happy lovey-dovey life.
Scarred soldiers, hardly married, only a year ago trembling from fear because of the thought that you would have a child in your house, such an irresponsible thing to do- and- and- now-
Now he was saying you can have more, can take responsibility for more people, more little ones- where were the guarantees that he would not die in the field? where were the guarantees that you would not be killed? where there were guarantees that you could become good parents, raise good children, fulfill your duty to them, and remain happy, not break down, challenge life, who stubbornly told you over and over again that you weren't made for this, you simply cannot have this, this isn't for you, and-
There really was something wrong with him.
And maybe, only maybe, there was something wrong with you, too.
Because you believed him.
You believed him with all your being, you trusted him, you knew he would never betray your trust, he would do more than everything to keep his promises, you knew the word "family" wasn't just a sound for him, and you became his family, he did not just wanted kids and that shitty house, fuck it, that wasn't about the house.
All of that was only about you.
Making family with you.
Having kids with you.
Introducing you as his wife, being a father to your kids, calling you the mother of his kids, knew exactly that is your and his blood running in their veins, that's your common children playing in the garden.
And in his face, which for some reason everyone finds impenetrable and dispassionate, you read so much that your heart breaks, your breath hitches, your pulse skips a beat:
Simon Riley doesn't want this house without you. He doesn't want kids without you. He doesn't want any white picket fence, no garden, no greenhouse, nothing without you. It's all is just meaningless for him, if it's without you.
You are that one thing that makes him believe he's unstoppable. You're that one person for whom he wants to try, despite fully understanding how hard, almost impossible it will be. Definitely will.
The man will move mountains just for you.
He would fight Death, and he would kill it just for you.
That's truly crazy.
But once again, if he's crazy, then you are too.
"Okay..." your quiet voice sounded in the silent room, only the cozy melody accompanying your words. "Alsatian it is."
It took a second, stretching for years, for him to slowly, with the grace of a well-fed tamed predator, get up from the floor and lean towards you, giving you the most tender kiss you have ever felt.
Delicate as silk, sweet as chocolate, a touch of love.
All his feelings for you couldn't fit in one kiss. But he needed to try.
And as soon as you relaxed, trusting yourself to his strong, safe arms, loud baby cries came from the baby monitor.
Damn.
Simon pulled away from you with a quiet "Don't move, I'll go get the Princess" and you couldn't help but giggle when you heard him open the door to your bedroom and start talking like an idiot, cuz she just loved when he was goofy around her.
In one second, promises to make you perfect for his fat cock again, and in the second after that, rocks your common child while making hilarious noises to pacify her.
"Simon!" And when he, rocking your tiny Princess, looked out from behind your bedroom door, you said helplessly, unable to remove the silly smile from your face, "I love you, baby."
His gaze softened.
"I love you, too, mama."
Oh, this man...
Oh this man!
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yanderismo · 3 months
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Yandere Platonic Superman Concept/Idea (?)
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BRO, BRO, I DON'T KNOW IF I LOVE OR HATE MY MIND FOR GIVING ME IDEAS THAT I'LL NEVER START OR FINISH. But okay, I have an idea for a platonic yandere Superfam, maybe it involves Batfam or the entire DC universe. I think this is more platonic yandere Superman. Let's go. (using the translator, be kind to me please 😭) 
— Imagine that you are originally from the Injustice universe. You were a neutral young/teen heroine who wasn't at all interested in siding with Batman or Superman. Well... that neutrality of yours had consequences, and now, somehow, Superman and Batman were in a bloody tug of war to get you on their side. And you are the cable they are selfishly pulling. And one day that cable would break, and that's what happened to you, you broke it. So broken that I would consider it irreparable. 
— But luckily for you (bro, are you lucky?), after so much physical and mental suffering, you ended up in a way that I won't explain, in the original DC universe. In other words, no superheroes is crazy tyrants. Too bad you don't know that (yet).
— You were living as if the world was a danger to you (just like it was in Injustice). But you discovered that you were REALLY in a different universe or timeline when you met Lois Lane, the woman who drove Superman insane after her death. And it shocked you, you thought maybe you had gone back in time. And as reckless as it was, you felt hope that you could stop the future of Injustice from happening, stop Lois Lane from being murdered! After all, you were still a hero, even if you had probably lost half of your original universe's neurons.
 — So you made a decision. You decided to protect Lois Lane! You practically become her protective shadow. Being noticed wouldn't do any good, and for SO FEAR of being confronted by Superman/Clark for apparently stalking his wife, you stopped watching her when Clark showed up and you went back when Clark left. (In your head, this Superman is the same Superman from Injustice, just before Lois' death happened). You were wary as hell of all the heroes. Anyway, a lot of trauma caused by Injustice.
— And I believe that Lois, even if she was a civilian, would notice that she was being watched (or maybe you're just not very good at stalking because you're a very young heroine). Whatever it is. Lois noticed and she became cautious (she is a journalist, there are many people who may not like her to the point of committing atrocities), as you could be a threat to her life. Although you haven't revealed yourself as any threat so far.
 — But let's suppose there were events in which she was in danger (actually, it was just something like shelves falling, preventing her from being run over, preventing some rabid dogs from biting her, small things), events in which you managed to remain hidden, however Lois knew it was You, her strangely protective stalker. Lois was trying to know your intentions and work it out for herself, so she didn't say anything about it. If this is something much more than she can handle, Clark can always lend a little help. 
— But on another one of those times when she was in danger, you desperately saved her (the situation was quite dangerous, more than normal), asking if she was okay and everything. Lois was surprised, you were surprised. Before you know, the idea of staying in the shadows went down the drain. You were almost begging (you were begging) her not to tell anyone that you were persecuting her (protecting her), you didn't want her to report you to some authority (that would only hinder your mission) or worse, report you to Superman. You said, stammered, that you were just protecting her. Wanting to make sure Lois didn't feel threatened and report you. 
— The desperation, the panic in your voice, seemed too young for Lois to feel comfortable. You were like a scared child, you looked very much like just a scared child, and that made Lois uncomfortable but at the same time... motherly. If you wanted to hurt her, you would have done it already. You at least accomplished one thing: making Lois not feel threatened by you.
 — The other thing you couldn't do was stop Lois from telling Clark about you. Look, I'm sure Lois didn't mean it, it's uncomfortable to be watched almost every day, but also, since she discovered you, she's been quite worried about you.
 — And Clark is all worried, like, "What?? My wife is being stalked??? Oh wait, my wife is being stalked and protected. Well, that's still very worrying, I'm definitely going to check it out for myself." Furthermore, Lois insisted that he be gentle when approaching you. And Lois saying this to him made him even more intrigued. 
— He tried to approach you just as Clark Kent, just to know how you would react around a seemingly civilian person, think of it as a method to read your character (he didn't want to confront you as Superman in a careless way. After all, who wouldn't Does he act nice or change to a more pleasant personality around Superman?)
— Needless to say, Clark was surprised and confused when you looked at him like he was the greatest terror of your life before simply running away from him. He recognized that look, only villains who were traumatized after a confrontation against him have that look (but the you look was much, much worse than that). That day, you didn't chase Lois.
 — Clark suspected you knew his secret identity. There is no longer any reason for you to have reacted like this. 
— lol, that day Lois noticed the absence of the feeling of being watched and scolded Clark for scaring you. Although it wasn't his fault, he apologized. He really didn't mean to scare you ;( You were gone for a few days after that. But of course, you still had to protect Lois in her everyday life. Even if you were scared. 
— Anyway, it didn't matter how softly, friendly Superman approached you next time. You ran, or at least tried to run. Do you really want to bet on who is the fastest? He easily caught you and held you by your forearm. And that was enough to make you scream, cry, struggle and finally, shrink as much as possible.
— And Superman was all confused, he wasn't even hurting you or squeezing you hard. His voice was also friendly. If anything, it made him even more worried. Add the fact that you appear to be very young and his paternal instincts kicked in. 
— To his surprise, you pulled out a knife. Something like that couldn't hurt Superman, of course not. But who said the knife was meant to hurt him? Let's say you picked up the knife and tried to slit your own throat as a last resort escape. (What did you go through with Superman from Injustice to the point that you tried to commit suicide just to escape him?) 
— Superman was surprised and then horrified. He immediately knocked you unconscious before you cut deeper into your throat. Now with you unconscious, you seemed more vulnerable and fragile than you should have been. Now he understood why Lois was worried about you. (You know, if Batman can adopt multiple children, why couldn't Superman...? You seem like a good kid and even Lois agrees with that. Conner and Jon would definitely like to have a sister) 
— Superman wondered what happened to you that made you reach the point where death was a usable route. He wanted to question you personally, but the moment he confirmed that you knew his identity (you acted the same way when he approached you as a civilian. He was the only one to receive this reaction from you and no one else), this matter became the subject of the Justice League. Discovering the identity of a superhero and pursuing someone close to that superhero was not going to be taken lightly. Who's to say you don't also know the identities of others? Although Superman wants to deal with you alone, he doubts he'll get any information out of you with you yelling and screaming. So he took you to the justice league. 
— Batman can definitely help you solve this.
(Imagine the anguish it would be to probably have to get used to people having the same appearance and the same voice as your captors in Injustice. Imagine them acting all soft after finding out you come from a universe where the heroes are corrupt and broke you😩)
Notas: I leave the rest to you. Or to any author who wants to use this idea (I beg you, some author write a Yandere platonic Superman/Superfam fic😭 They could even add other platonic Yanderes like Batfam, it would be so interesting 🙏😭)
(I just realized that the one who acted the most Yandere was Reader herself, lol)
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dreamauri · 3 days
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♪ — 𝗪𝗜𝗥𝗘𝗗 𝗜𝗡? - part two max verstappen x reader (fluff) “. . . when he wants to be normal, he can count on you, stranger.”
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( fic master list | general master list ) ( requests ) ( previous | next )
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“Come on, you can’t say he has so much potential!” Max miserably tried to hold in his laughs as you continued your rant about how much better Max would look if he put a little more effort or thought in how he dressed. 
“I’m honestly starting to think he’s allergic to wearing anything . . . not Red Bull related. Like even in his streams! In his home!” 
Sitting in front of his laptop with a makeshift setup in the hotel room in Japan, Max found himself unwinding from the earlier media day when he gladly accepted to join you for a game of Fifa. It wasn’t until someone brought up Lewis’ outfit from this morning did you start your little ted talk. 
“La, please concentrate on the game, we’re losing!” he couldn’t stop laughing either so your team was toast either way. 
“No, because I bet he's wearing his Red Bull shirt right now wherever he is.”
The reason why Max was no longer able to hold it together was because he was indeed in a Red Bull shirt. He might actually take you up on being allergic to anything not associated with Red Bull.
“I’ll gladly design a few outfits for him, I swear!” 
“La-” Max put his face in his hands, shoulders shaking from laughter as his screen showed the opposing team scoring a goal. The dutch would usually feel frustrated if he were to be losing a Fifa game in any other situation, but not this one with you.
He's ready to lose and lose again, even give up his title as one of the world's top twenty Fifa players if he gets to spend time with you like this, laughing and joking; forgetting the world around, so it's just you and him.
Just two people . . . being people.
★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━��━
“Since I have no one to show, you're stuck with me.” 
It’s kind of been a routine now, having a private call after a game or upon finding spare time. You two have gotten close. You even considered “amilian” to be a close friend, per say. A close friend who you regularly vent to about work or just randomly ask riddles or dad jokes to bother.
You enjoyed his company. He was a fun person to be around. He made you feel . . . yellow in a type of way too. You never felt left out or unheard. He always had time for you, it's like you were maybe gravitating to being more than close friends . . . it's not like you can do anything about it though.
Surely people make close friends online all the time. 
You stay up on your couch, scrolling through the settings of your laptop to show and rant despite having to get up in the morning. Max crossed his legs on his chair folding his arms and watching the screen as you messed around on your shared screen.
“La, it’s late.” He’s been trying to tell you for the past 10 minutes. It’s 6:30 in Japan, 7 hours ahead of the time in Paris, where you were. 
Not that he’s keeping track of the time where you were, it’s just that you shared the same time zone as Monaco, and he only had the GMT+2 clock displayed on his home screen because he needed to keep track of his cats . . .  not too make sure you got enough sleep or anything of that sort.
“It's only 11:30,” you shushed, pulling up pinterest. Max hung his head, trying to hold in his smile. “I could put together a whole outfit that would suit him right here and now,”
“La,” Max giggled watching you actually start to search and put things together. “I’ll make a deal with you, if you go to sleep, I'll try to get Max Verstappen in baggy jeans,” 
“WHAT?!” the blond flinched at the loud noise, looking around his hotel room to make sure no one heard anything -- despite him being alone. 
“You know I work in F1 right?” Max followed up, trying to hold in his smile at your silence. “La, you forgot?!” 
“I’m sorry!” you pleaded, holding your hands in a begging motion despite him not seeing anything.
Max put his hand on his chest and pretended to be offended when he was smiling really wide to the point his cheeks hurt. “My best friend doesn't know what I do for a living,” he gushed in fake hurt. 
Your mind blanked at the title. Best friend? 
“You do know what my job is, right, La?”
“. . .” You looked away embarrassed, you’ve known the guy for how long and don’t even know what his profession is. 
Max couldn’t stop his giggles. “Go to bed, La. I’ll get Max in baggy jeans for you.”
★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
“Hey um, million?” 
“I thought I told you to go to bed?” Max chuckled, crouched in front of his suitcase, digging through it in hopes to find a pair of baggy jeans or a white shirt that he probably doesn't own. 
“I am in bed technically . . .” The blond looked over to his laptop on his desk, the call still going. “You work in F1,” Max felt his heart jump in anxiety for a second, there's no way you figured him out. 
“Yeah?”
 “Well um . . . my boss chose me to go see how things were going with McLaren at the Monaco gp,” 
The dutch perked up at your announcement. “Really? That's great!” 
“Y-Yeah, it is,” you stuttered, agreeing. you crossed your arms, looking at the email congratulating you on your phone screen. “I mean, I'm glad, this is an experience of a lifetime. I get to drag along a few interns with me as well.” Max frowned, your tone did not match with the news you were announcing.
“What's wrong?” He got up, sitting on the desk chair, looking at your profile picture, the concern was clear in voice, as if you could feel him sitting beside you on your bed and gently rubbing your back to comfort you. 
“Well, I don't have anyone to go with - the interns don't count . . . and I don't know anyone in Monaco or the attendees-- except you technically . . . I haven’t been on my own for that long before,” you sighed.
Max furrowed his eyebrows, trying to decipher what you were asking of him.
“Is it-” you cut yourself of with a sigh. “Can I hang out with you sometime? During the weekend?” Max stayed silent, feeling his heart pounding to the point he was scared the organ would explode out of his chest. 
“I mean,” Max cleared his throat to hide the crack in his voice that arose from the anxiety he was drowning in. “I’m not traveling with the team every weekend, so I'm not sure if I'm going to be in Monaco . . . I’ll have to ask my boss.” he replied quietly and slowly, trying to comfort you still. “There’s still a few weeks before Monaco, so . . . I don’t know for sure.” He whispered, scratching the back of his head.
He was digging himself a grave. Asking Horner if he’s going to be in Monaco when he is the driver and already lives in Monaco? It’s too late now to be honest about who he is, he dug this hole himself and now he’s stuck in it.
It’s not like he can be like ‘oh, yeah of course you can hang out with me. Oh, I’m Max Verstappen by the way, the guy who’s driving the best car and winning all the races, so I can get you VIP tickets and a hot lap too if you want.’
“I’ll try my best to be there,” the blond whispered. You could almost feel him brushing your hair comfortingly. “We can get ice cream or go sightseeing. I know this really good cafe you’ll like . . .” Max will just have to keep digging his hole.
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proof reading credits to the lovely and amazing @classiclitfreak <3
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