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#it gets even worse when you realize he had that life in the first place
isa-ghost · 2 days
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I see you have hcs, do you have any for mr fitmc?
Yes!!
Here's some ones of his relationship with Phil past and present too bc I don't think I have Fit standalone ones until now.
Obviously these will apply to AMFMN Fit too!
Fit is extremely observant and perceptive. Years of roaming a wasteland, spending every minute of every day documenting, chronicling, exploring and witnessing so much really sharpens those kinds of skills. Not much gets past Fit unless he simply wasn't there or doesn't know. All it takes is an inkling and he'll start connecting dots and making theories.
It's why he Hates the Federation. Not only is he an anarchist, he hates the way they make it so easy to keep him in the dark. It's why he weaseled into it in the first position he could get. Being a janitor sucks, but it's something. Anything to get a foundation for making next moves.
He struggles with trust though. He trusts people, but very few if any does he trust whole-heartedly. Pac & Phil are likely the only ones he trusts that much. And even then, he doesn't confide in anyone nearly as deeply as he does Ramon. Spending so much of his life in 2B2T has taught him to reserve trust for people who prove without a doubt that they're ride or die with you. He wishes he didn't find it so difficult to trust more people though.
Okay complete 180 in vibes here but I'm very passionate about this one: Fit has a giant warhammer that's his weapon of choice. Chainsaw, scythe, potato cannon, whatever other stuff he's got is good. But big fucking hammer. With those muscles? Oughoughouhgh.
By the way he never in his life had experienced people simping for his muscles or flirting with him prior to being on QI. It was whiplash and it's changed him for the worst /pos
On the surface it seems like Fit is pretty cold or at least disinterested in stuff that leans on the vulnerable side. It's not entirely wrong, he's spent so long in a place where vulnerability gets your base blown to smithereens or gets you robbed blind or both. But he Does enjoy such things. I mean, just look at the Fitpac date! And hugs? Hugs rock! He'd be so much worse off if he didn't let loose or let himself lower his guard every now and then. It takes a lot of energy to keep those walls up, it'd be unhealthy to never let them down. Especially in a place like Quesadilla Island, where it seems like it's a bit safer to do so. Honestly, he's the opposite of disinterested in letting walls down. He wants that more than anything, and it took being put on QI, becoming a dad, and falling in love for him to realize it.
Which makes keeping up this facade really hard. Not just the whole "snooping for data" thing, just Everything Fit has built himself to be over the years altogether. He doesn't want to keep holding people at arm's length and looking over his shoulder all the time anymore. It's exhausting.
That's not to say he wouldn't relapse right back to how he was before QI softened him up, though. Again, those trust issues. Purgatory really fucked with his head for a while. And plenty of things that happened after, like the whole Phil Ender King thing, really didn't help either. What he's going through is a form of healing, and healing isn't linear.
He isn't afraid to get his hands dirty. Be it with dirt, blood, or otherwise. His motto is you gotta do what you gotta do. He's a very means to an end kinda guy. And despite wishing he could shed being so hardened by the 2B2T Wastelands, he does value that it's given him this kind of strength. It takes a lot to be willing to do whatever it takes to get what you want.
The reason Fit loves fofoca is not only because he enjoys indulging his inner drama whore. He's spent most of his life roaming a place where secrets were as good if not better of a trade than actual currency. When he first arrived on QI, he wasn't entirely sure how to just. Casually socialize. There's little to no risk in it. It was incredibly foreign to him. But it turns out that gossip is like trading secrets in a different font. He's good at that. So collecting and spreading fofoca is how he taught himself to appear kind of "normal" to the other islanders.
Most if not all of the above is also evidence to support the fact that Fit in general is a very adaptive person. You can put him in any environment, as soon as he gets the gist of the status quo and what kind of stakes he's dealing with here, he'll manage no problem. Chances are he's experienced worse. Purgatory and the prison are 2 good examples.
Calling back to the wanting to be vulnerable + confiding in Ramon the most things, GOD is he grateful he got such a brilliant son. Ramon learned a lot from him, but even so, he already had many of the same traits Fit does. It did wonders for bonding, and it's part of what made trusting Ramon come so easy. He's glad he got a son that's so understanding of the way he operates.
The only thing stopping him from taking a page from Cellbit and just starting to kill Feds for information or other reasons is because he knows he'll get more out of playing the long con and letting himself be strung along. Infiltration goes further than outright brutality in his eyes. Brutality is saved for something you no longer need anything from.
Btw his stealth skills are fucking insane. In 2B2T your detection is life or death, and it'll only end in your favor if you can talk sweet enough or have something worth bargaining with. He often did one or the other, but even so, a historian like him typically lacked anything of much value to most bandits and the like. He was simply charismatic and lucky. Which means staying hidden, laying low, and moving with more calculation than a math class is more beneficial to him. And boy has it come in handy on the island too.
In his time on QI, once The Horrors all started, he's learned he really likes having intense intellectual talks with other islanders. Strategizing, theorizing. It feels like the survival he's so used to but with less imminent threats on his life. Bagi especially is an absolute delight to get into these kinds of talks with. It feels like casual socializing and the kind of talking he's used to at the same time. Very much his jam.
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lyledebeast · 2 months
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The Patriot has got to be one of the only stories about a revolution where the hero's happy ending is everything in his life going right back to the way it was under the old regime.
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sistertotheknowitall · 2 months
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“But to the BatFam? That is just Some Guy. A random dude - if you will.”
“Don’t worry about it, I’m missing my spleen.”
“Oh cool, yeah, missing organs suck. I’m missing a kidney and part of my liver. Oh! And my gallbladder but that was more of a necessary evil, it was like, poisoning me or something.” Danny was so focused on applying pressure to his wound (and maybe being a bit too light headed) that he didn’t notice how silent his friend had gotten. Like-wise the comms had gone equally quiet as Gotham’s vigilante family realized that they knew very little about this kid.
It was concerning how quickly they all started to see him as a friend considering it was them as vigilantes he interacted with the most. Tim was the only one who saw him frequently when out of the suit because he was a regular at Danny’s day job. (He worked as a barista in the coffee shop Tim favored.) The others saw him occasionally but more often than not it was just in passing. Steph, Duke, and Dick had to stop themselves from approaching him on the street.
It was odd, one day he had just moved to Gotham, seeming to appear out of nowhere, and then the next he was a constant presence in their lives. Usually armed and ready with a concerning or odd quip, it had started with him being another victim of the city’s petty criminals and had snowballed from there.
Now it wasn’t like the bats saw Danny everyday, but it was expected that he would cross paths with at least three of them before the end of the week. They ran into him more often than any other Gothamite, including the criminals and rouges they fought.
At first the constant meetings by “coincidence” was suspicious. If he wasn’t the one being saved from a mugging, kidnapping, or city wide villain assault, then he was near by and trying to help.
(“Trying to help” usually meant drawing attention to himself so the original victim could escape. Once it had meant Danny armed with a baseball bat against four grown men. Bruce and Dick have tried to talk to him about putting himself in harms way but the kid is surprisingly elusive when he wants to be. Yet, even when avoiding Batman and his eldest, Danny could be found on the patrol route of another family member.)
But honestly? The guy seemed just as exhausted as they were of seeing each other. By the twelfth time in a month, Danny had accused them of stalking him.
The background check Bruce and Tim had run came back clean and he never seemed to be involved in the various criminal activities. He was just there, a weirdly unlucky bystander. So as far as Dick and the others could see, Danny was a completely normal dude. He just said strange things and wasn’t intimidated by them, he actually made it a point to be unhelpful sometimes. When trying to learn his name he gave them the run around for two months. (“I know about stranger danger. I don’t care how often you say you’re the ‘good guys.’ I’m not falling for it.”)
On one memorable occasion Danny had disappeared for a week and a half. When they started to assume the worse, he popped back up behind the counter at work. Tim had relaxed significantly when he entered the shop to Danny organizing pastries in the display case. Once he’d placed his order, the young CEO asked Danny if he’d been on vacation. To which Danny had just sighed and told Tim “I wish, but no I was called to court to handle some affairs I couldn’t get out of.” (After a check to see if Danny had gotten charged with something and coming back empty, Tim had concluded that it was an odd way to say he had had jury duty.)
Thinking about it now, outside a stray comment or two, Danny didn’t talk about himself or his life. They knew he didn’t have a good relationship with his parents, “they were much more goal oriented than that joke of a kidnapper, but I think drugs do that to a person.” (It was still unclear if he meant his parents were kidnappers themselves or on drugs.) They knew he had an older sister who would “kill me again if she finds out I was in another bank robbery.” They also knew he was, possibly, depressed after last week’s comment of “is it considered murder if you’re already dead but, like, still alive?” (Damian had saved him from a drug ring but after another “baby ninja” comment the young Robin had threatened to give Danny back to his would-be murderers.)
Dick knew Danny was a weird guy who never wanted to elaborate on the things he said. (Jason was still confused on what he meant by “rotted milk soul.”) That didn’t mean the comments themselves didn’t say a lot about him. And tonight’s comment, accompanied by the prominent and jagged autopsy scars, said more than Danny was probably willing to share.
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ragingbookdragon · 3 months
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It comes as somewhat a surprise when the others realize that something has obviously happened between their resident Lieutenant and Private, as she’s quick to fall silent whenever he appears, and even more so make herself scare when she can when he’s around. It’s only the third time that Soap sees it that he says something, because if he doesn’t no one else will, and where’s the fun in that?
He watches her duck her head and leave the break room, Gaz, Soap, Price, and Ghost sitting alone at the breakfast table conversing over soggy cereal and cooling tea; Soap pushes a piece of bacon on his plate and asks, “Trouble in paradise, Lt?” the corner of his mouth arches with a slight grin when he hears the warning grunt come from Ghost.
“No.”
“Seems like it,” he retorts, taking a sip of his coffee. “What’d ya do? Tell her ta fuck off?”
“Drop it, MacTavish,” Ghost warns darkly. “Nothing’s wrong.”
This time, Gaz jumps in. “C’mon, Lt., it’s obvious that something’s wrong. I mean, she won’t even look at you, let alone say anything unless you speak first.”
“An’ she’s callin’ ‘im ‘sir.’” Soap adds, pointing at him. “Christ, Lt., ya musta done a number on ‘er. Poor Puffin. So sweet and kind. Broke ‘er heart ya did.”
Price can tell that Ghost is close to snapping at the both of them but gets to it before he does. “Soap, Gaz, go catalogue our inventory for the mission next week.”
“Aw, but we already d—” Soap falls silent when Price shoots him a look and quietly grumbles to himself as he grabs his plate and cup, Gaz following in suit.
It’s only until the two soldiers are alone that Price asks, “What did happen, Simon?”
Ghost lets out a long sigh and rolls his head back, staring at the ceiling. “Pretty much told ‘er to fuck off.”
Price watches quietly as Ghost begins rattling to himself—he’s never really had to ask the man to explain himself. All he’s gotta do is prompt him to do so and Ghost does the rest.
“I just got mad. She’s always ‘round and practically up my arse, and I got caught up and instead of ‘andlin’ it properly, I shoved my fucking foot in my mouth and scalped her.” He rubs a hand over his face. “I meant to be gentler but once I started, I couldn’t stop. It just kept comin’ out. And now she fuckin’ hates me.”
He pulls his hand down and looks up at Price with a scowl—the man is smiling at him, but it’s that stupid smile that means more than Ghost wants to admit it does.
“Quit that.”
“You care about her,” Price murmurs, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, though his admonish is still harsh. “And instead of telling her how you felt like a grown adult, you took the ten-year-old way out and decided to be a cunt to her.”
“I didn’t mean to be such a cunt.”
“But the fact of the matter is that you did, and you’ve screwed up team fluidity and cohesion.” He looks at him. “You know a team divided—”
“Can’t stand,” Ghost finishes with an even worse scowl. “Yeah, yeah, I know.” He looks away. “I just don’t know how to even start tryin’ to fix it.”
“Well, apologizing might be a good start,” Price rumbles with a grin. “She’s a good kid, Simon. Her heart’s in the right place, even if it’s a bit much at times. Shows she cares. More than most do in our line of work. She’s a rare one.”
“I know,” he admits in a much, much softer tone. “I just don’t want her to lose that doin’ this.” His eyes meet Price’s, and they hold such a misery. “Look at us, Price,” he mutters, gesturing between them. “Middle age, unmarried, no kids, too fucked up for anything like that. She doesn’t…” he clenches his jaw. “She deserves a better path, a safer path, than this life. She deserves to go out and have a life where she comes home to a family.”
“That’s not your choice to make, son,” he replies gently, but there’s a firmness to it. “If this is what she wants to do, then she will. We can’t make her get out of service.”
Ghost growls low in his throat. “She has so much more potential than being cannon fodder. She could do somethin’ with her life. Somethin’ good. Somethin’ that won’t have her dying face down in the sand with a bullet wound in the back.”
Price simply watches him.
“But she’s so fuckin’ stupid. She wants to be here. She wants to spend whatever time she has dodgin’ bullets and wakin’ up every night in sweat ‘cause she can’t escape the dreams. No one wants to do this. We don’t want to do this. We do this because we have to. But her? She’s happy here.” He lowers his voice, it’s as if he’s in disbelief. “She’s happy here.” He looks at Price. “Why? Why is she so happy here?”
It's another long moment before Price speaks.
“You hear, son, but you don’t listen.” He moves the cup on the saucer. “She bounced around homes growing up, scraped by on the skin of her teeth. She has no one. But here, she has something. She has people who care for her, if nothing else, they won’t let her die alone.”
“Oh what? So, it’s found family bullshit?” Ghost spits. “If she dies, at least the team would mourn her?”
“Isn’t that what you’ve done too?” he replies, and Ghost falls silent. “People like Gaz, Soap, and myself are different than you and she are, Simon. We have homes. We’ve had families that have loved us, that do love us. But you two? Simon, you’ve made a home where you’ve had to. Made a family out of people you’ve bled for, would gladly bleed for. You’ve made something that’s yours. You made a family for yourself. And so did she. She’s made us her family. The one she never had the privilege to call her own.”
Price lets out a quiet hum, and pats his thighs, standing up and pushing his chair in.
“Think on what I’ve said, son. And if nothing else, apologize and leave it at that. Put the ball in her court and let her make the next move.”
As he walks off, he hears, “And if she doesn’t want it?”
He tosses a knowing look over his shoulder. “I’m sure she’ll take it.” His eyes twinkle as he adds, “Takes an awful strong woman to care about a man like you.”
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kuromochimi · 2 months
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baby I’m nothing like your broke ex
gojo satoru, nanami kento
Content warnings: mentions of past toxic relationships, not proof read
🔜 suguru geto, kamo choso, higuruma hiromi
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Gojo Satoru
Satoru was rich. Like rich RICH. You first noticed this the moment you met him when you spilled coffee on his shirt then offered to buy him a new one instead. Instant regret when you realized that his shirt was worth more than your entire closet combined.
Being in a relationship with him was… well it was an adjustment. You lived a fairly simple life before you met him. It wasn’t a bad life. You still got to spend on your wants here and there but you had to budget such things much like any other common person had to. On the other hand, the word budget was non-existent to satoru especially when it came to you. He quite literally gave you everything. A few weeks into the relationship though, he had noticed how reluctant you were to accept his presents. You didn’t seem uncomfortable, just.. reluctant. He toned down a bit after this realization. But god he just couldn’t figure out why you were almost unwilling to accept anything at all from him, even food, even a ride home, even his hoodie which he already said you could keep. “Baby” he called to which you responded by looking his way. “Why do you never want to accept my presents?” He asked before he got up to approach you, immediately hugging you from the back as soon as you were within reach. “Hmm it’s not that I don’t want to.. it’s just.. you have to let me get used to these things first, okay?” satoru raised his brow “baby I know that shitty ex of yours can’t come close to how much I spoil you but was he that stingy?” at first satoru was only joking but your silence meant it was probably true. “So he was?” He asked as his chin was resting on your shoulder. “Come on satoru, he’s a thing of the past. He doesn’t matter anymore, ‘kay?” You tried your best to steer away from having to tell your boyfriend in detail but he’s right. Your ex was stingy as hell. It’s not like you ever asked for anything too much in fact, you don’t ever remember asking for anything at all. All the times he had to pick you up, he asked for gas money which seemed fair enough but it wasn’t just that. The man loved going on and extravagant dates but was never willing to fish out more than gas money. He adored receiving presents from you but could never be bothered to get you even the cheapest flowers. He used to say that he was just saving up to be able to give you the life you deserve but 8 years of having to sustain the luxurious lifestyle of a bum just made you snap hence, the break up. Satoru’s tightening embrace woke you from that little flashback. “Okay baby, I’ll make sure to spoil you but don’t hesitate to tell me if I go overboard hm? Love you” he gave you a kiss on the cheek and god, you felt so lucky to have found such a good man.
Nanami Kento
It quite literally took years of yearning for nanami to be finally able to date you. He was your junior in university and your junior at work as well. All that time, he had to witness you be head over heels for your then boyfriend, another one of his seniors. He thought the man might have put a spell on you because for the love of god, he could not see what kept you with the jerk for so long. Having observed your relationship from when he was a college freshman up to when he was a work colleague, your ex never even tried to mask how selfish he was with you. The man dawned expensive watches and drove a not so cheap car, he loved going to expensive places with his friends but with you? He wouldn’t hesitate to pass you the bill (like 85% of the time) whenever you went on dates, bought you nothing but cheap jewelry and quality reject flowers just because they were cheaper. Even worse, he also let you take the crowded train home everyday despite him driving to and from work everyday. He just couldn’t be bothered to pick you up because your workplace was “too far” and gas was expensive. If he really was struggling, it wouldn’t have been a problem but any person could see that he was more than capable of treating you better. He just didn’t want to.
Dating nanami was like a breath of fresh air. It’s not like you were materialistic in the first place but receiving pretty flowers and having someone make sure you’s comfortable and safe felt so heartwarming. On top of that, nanami didn’t make it feel like he was obligated to do any of that. He just genuinely wanted to care for you. It was all new to you that you even had to ask him to stop spoiling you too much, you felt bad accepting all that he was giving. “I know you don’t need them and I know you’re capable but let me do these things for you, hm?” Was what he’d always say and despite bot being able to voice it out to him yet, there is so much love in you knowing that it was possible to be treated this way. With so much care and love and concern.
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crxss01 · 10 months
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Hii can u do a 42 miles fluff fic where his uncle caught a him being soft for us and teases him for it
— My Future
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pairing ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ 42!miles morales x reader
summary ⁺˚⋆。°✩₊ miles gets caught by his uncle cuddling you and saying sweet nothings to you while you were asleep.
warnings ✧˖ °fluff, cuddling, cursing, implied murder and kidnapping, mentions of threats, implied on and off relationship, miles being a softy for you.
m. list, main m. list.
translations ✧࿓☾ te amo tanto, sabías?: i love you so much, did you know?, desde el momento que te ví: from the moment i saw you, mi princesa: my princess.
a/n . . ◟੭ hey, sweet anon! i live for soft miles so here you go, i hope you enjoy!
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miles ran his hand up and down your back, your head on his chest, one leg thrown on top of his stomach and your arm hugging him close to you. one of his legs was tangled with your other one and his other arm was wrapped around your waist.
he had been whispering things to you the moment he felt your breathing come to a calm and slow pace, your soft breath making him feel butterflies in his stomach. he hated the feeling but he couldn’t help it when he was with you so he became used to it.
everytime he sees you always felt like the first, the moment he saw you he felt those butterflies but at the time he didn’t know what they were because he never had that feeling before. with time he realized what they meant and thought that they would go away when he confessed but life proved him wrong.
“te amo tanto, sabías?” he whispered. “desde el momento que te ví.”
it was love at first sight for him, it was a cliché and he had completely despised that it happened to him but that negative feeling disappeared when he got to know you.
“i thought you were beautiful…” he continued. “that’s why i bothered you.” he let out a quiet chuckled at that.
miles had started to annoy you after the first meeting, not even waiting a day. you sat next to him in class due to assigned seats and he took that as an advantage to make your learning impossible in that class, and was even worse in the hallway where no teacher was looking and stopping him from doing so.
“i would do anything for you,” his hand stopped moving, coming to a stop at the small of your back. “even kill for you.”
it was true, miles had almost beat up a guy to death when the fucker tried to lay his hands on you. if it wasn’t because you were there telling him to stop with tears in your eyes, fear clear in them, he would’ve killed the guy.
he later discovered that the fear wasn’t directed towards him, but because of what would happen to him if he killed someone in public where there were many witnesses, no mask covering his face to protect him from his crime.
“i would even die for you.” his hand continued with his previous movement.
another truth, he remembers that time you were kidnapped by one of his many enemies. it was right after breaking up with you for a fifth time to protect you from his life as the prowler, but it was useless because you were used against him anyway. but even then he gave himself in just to save you, not making a plan because it would put your life in danger, he had been unaware of the plan his uncle had made.
“anything, mi princesa…” he finished, placing a kiss on top of your head.
“you’re a real simp, ain’t you.” he heard his uncle’s voice.
miles looked at his bedroom door, wondering when the hell did his uncle opened the door without him even realizing.
“getting rusty, huh?” his uncle leaned against the frame. “didn’t even notice i was here at all while you were saying all the lovey-dovey shit.”
miles rolled his eyes and spoke, trying hard not to sound embarrassed. “do you need something?”
“nah, just checking on you.” uncle aaron shrugged. “today’s mission was pretty rough, but you seem to be doing just fine.”
“yeah, yeah.” miles dismissed. “whatever.”
his uncle laughed, making sure it was not loud enough to wake you. “i know you’re embarrassed right now, no need to pretend.” he then turned more serious. “if you really care that much about her, make sure she feels the same way, miles. don’t want you getting hurt.”
miles smirked. “she does feel the same.”
“you think so?” uncle aaron raised an eyebrow.
“i know so.”
“if you say so.” his uncle nodded.
“she promised me her future and i promised her mine, so yeah i’m sure.” miles said simply.
“protect her.” his uncle said before closing the door, saying a goodnight.
“i will.”
miles placed another kiss to your head. “always.”
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taglist: @anikaluv @janaeby @queerponcho
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ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ reblogs are really appreciated!
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hazbinwhoree · 3 months
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BRO?$!&?& OAAA I SAW YOU WERE OPEN TO ADAM REQUESTS AND OHHH. MY SNAP.
i am in desperate need. of adam smut.
NOW, WOULD IT BE OKAY FOR ME TO ASK FOR ADAM SMUT WITH A SUBMISSIVE FEMALE SINNER READER WHO IS:
usually shy nervous as fuck but absolutely watches him when he thinks he isn't looking
likes to compliment him in general (at the most random times too, despite the dickmaster being the FUCKING WORST, and she would get that but he IS kinda fine so)
touch-starved, incredibly easy to fluster and tease (bro has a thing for his voices and looks too, one word or look and she'd be on her knees)
pretty insecure in general (and is a sucker for being praised in bed)
I'd also specifically like to hear what he would say to the reader ESPECIALLY THAT IDFK AAA GO CRAZY
Adam’s Sinner
Part 1/3 Part 2
A/N: I was so fucking happy to get a request you don’t even understand. Anyway here it is, I hope I did it justice and you enjoy it!
Warnings: Smut
Adam had been aware of (Name) for about ten years. They met during the extermination, Adam cornering her in an alley. Something compelled him to spare her, and yes he realized what a hypocrite that made him. Poor Vaggie. “Fucking run, bitch.” She bolted. Adam looked around to make sure no one had seen.
The next year, Adam noticed (Name) watching him, hiding behind corners and in shadows. She did this during every extermination for about five years before Adam decided during one extermination to confront her.
(Name) peered around the corner of the dark alley she was hiding in, watching Adam kill a fellow sinner. It should disgust her, but ever since he spared her life she had a strange sort of attraction towards him. Adam looked up and (Name) ducked back behind the wall. When she peered out again, Adam was nowhere to be seen.
“What’s up, sugar tits?”
(Name) yelped, jumping when Adam appeared behind her. He put his hands on the wall on either side of her head, effectively caging her in. (Name) could feel her face heating up. Adam seemed to find it amusing. “Flustered?” (Name) swallowed.
“You know I’ve seen you watching me for the last few exterminations. What’s up with that, hm?”
(Name) had no answer.
“What’s your name?” Adam asked.
“(Name),” she answered quietly. Adam had to bend down to hear her. His proximity made her blush worse, and he snickered. “I think I figured out why. No surprise really, of course you’d want a piece of the first man in existence. I’m the fucking Dickmaster.”
He let her go shortly after their exchange, but confronted her again the next year. As years passed, Adam would spare thirty minutes every extermination to talk to (Name). He found himself becoming fond of the sinner. Her story of how she ended up in hell was interesting, and it definitely helped that she stroked his ego with compliments.
Adam found himself looking forward to seeing (Name) even more than he looked forward to the exterminations. He was grateful Lute hadn’t caught on.
A few years later, and Adam noticed (Name) wasn’t following him as she normally would. So he sought her out. She’d told him a few years ago where she lived, so that was the first place Adam checked. Sure enough, he found her there.
“Sup.”
(Name) jumped. “Adam!”
“What the fuck, babe, not interested in seeing me this year?” Adam placed his hand over his heart in mock hurt, although while he’d never admit it, it actually did hurt him.
“We can’t see each other anymore,” (Name) announced, looking away.
“Bitch why?”
“Because one of these days we’re going to get caught. I know what happened to Vaggie. What would happen if the exterminators found out their leader was socializing with a sinner?”
“You’re not like the other sinners,” Adam argued. “I’d show them that.”
“How?”
Adam was quiet.
“Exactly. And to be honest, I can’t take the emotional torture anymore.”
“The fuck are you on about, ‘emotional torture’? Come on babe-”
“Adam no. I can’t let myself get any closer to you. We only see each other once a year and I got attached, and dealing with only seeing you once a year has gotten too painful.”
Adam was rather taken aback by the confession. He felt the same way but had been gaslighting himself to believe he didn’t. For once in his life, Adam couldn’t find anything to say. He decided the best course was the course of action rather than talking.
He leaned down and abruptly pressed his lips to (Name)’s. Her eyes widened and her body stiffened. When Adam received no response on her end, he pulled back, worried he’d fucked up. She stared up at him with this look on her face that Adam couldn’t place. He didn’t know if it was positive or negative.
“Again,” she finally spoke in a small voice. A smirk stretched across Adam’s face, and he bent down once more to press his lips to hers. She kissed him back this time, almost desperately, and Adam’s arms wrapped around her waist. She shuddered and he pulled back.
“Are you okay?” No teasing or cursing.
“Yeah I just… I haven’t had anyone touch me like this in a long time.”
Adam couldn’t say the same, but this was the first time in a long time emotions had been involved. He kissed her again and snuck his tongue into her mouth as she kissed back. “I want to fuck you,” Adam mumbled against her lips. “Okay.”
Adam pushed her down on her bed, crawling on top of her. He reconnected their lips and slid a hand under her shirt. “Damn,” he commented when his wandering hand reached her chest. “Nice rack.” (Name) rolled her eyes. Adam began kissing down her neck, sucking and biting to leave his mark. (Name) moaned and grabbed onto his horns.
Adam pulled back to shed his robe, and (Name) yanked her shirt over her head. Now that Adam actually had eyes on her chest, he stared for a moment. “So pretty~” he cooed. (Name) blushed and swallowed.
“Oh~” Adam realized. “You like that, don’t you? You like being praised?”
(Name) looked away. Adam grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him. “Don’t be embarrassed, babe, it’s cute.” He returned to her neck, kissing down and down, her shoulder, her collarbone. Then he slid down slightly to press his face between her breasts. He laid more kisses on her chest before taking a nipple into his mouth.
Sensitive, (Name) arched her back and whimpered. “I like that noise,” Adam said, moving to the other breast. “Make it again.” He sucked and she whimpered.
Adam was aware he had a short window of time to make this work, so he pulled back and pulled down (Name)’s pants and panties in one swift motion. (Name) got embarrassed being so exposed, so Adam quickly shed his own pants and boxers to level the playing field.
He noticed (Name) staring at his dick and smirked. He took it in his hand, pumping it a few times for show. “You like what you see, baby? Of course you do. Can’t beat the original dick.”
He crawled on top of her again, nudging her thighs apart with his knee to settle between them. He reconnected their lips while his hand traveled down to the place she wanted it the most. “So wet for me, good girl,” Adam teased. Flustered, (Name) shut him up with another kiss.
They made out while Adam experimentally slid one slender finger into her. Met with no resistance, he added another one, and began languidly pumping them in and out. (Name) was shaking. Eager to hurry this along, Adam added another finger. Three stretched her out and she moaned against his lips at the sensation. It made Adam’s dick throb.
He fingered her, with his thumb circling her clit, until he decided she was well enough prepared, pulling his hand away. (Name) whined at the loss but was quickly shut up by Adam grabbing her legs and throwing them over his shoulders. She gasped. Adam lined himself up with her entrance and sunk in slowly, giving her time to adjust. She squirmed, his girth proving to be a little painful to take.
Adam reached between them to give her clit attention, and that loosened her up right away. He bottomed out with a groan, closing his eyes. “Fuck, babe, you’re so tight.” Adam kissed her again, basically bending her in half as he began thrusting. He swallowed her whimpers and moans while his pace picked up in speed and intensity.
He had tried to be slow and gentle, he really had.
Adam set a brutal pace, and (Name) clawed at his back as he pounded into her. “Fuck, yeah, you’re so good for me, tits. Such a good girl, all mine,” Adam talked as he fucked her, and his every word brought (Name) closer to the edge. “You feel so fucking good.”
Adam’s thrusts were getting sloppy as he neared his own climax. “Cum for me,” he murmured. “Fucking cum for me, baby.” (Name) did, her back arching off the bed, her head thrown back and mouth open in slack pleasure. Her tightening around him pushed Adam over the edge, and he buried himself as deep as he could, cumming inside her.
They both panted, holding onto one another as they came down from their highs. Adam pulled out and rolled off of (Name), collapsing onto the bed next to her. He pulled her into his chest and covered her with one of his wings, nuzzling his face into her hair.
“I’ll find a way to see each other more,” he muttered. “I’ll figure something out.” (Name) buried her face in his chest. “Promise?” Her voice was muffled.
“Promise.”
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runa-falls · 4 months
Text
cocktails
Tumblr media
gif from @pirateherokillian
pairing: jake lockley x shy!reader
summary: you finally gain enough courage to make a move on your best friend
cw: explicit (18+), dub-con (reader is tipsy), afab!reader, dry humping to piv pipeline, fingering, multiple orgasms, longing/pining losers, love (?), push-over!jake, needy!reader, 'just the tip' is never just the tip, alcohol consumption, pet names, daddy kink, creampie, fluff :3 -- not beta-read
wc: 5.1k
a/n: pls, it was never supposed to be this long. i'm sorry for taking FOREVER to write this. anyways, this is based off my blabbering in discord -- i dedicate this to my whores (affectionate) <3
mk masterlist | main masterlist
----
You don’t drink. 
At least not in front of Jake. 
Alcohol makes you…indulgent, to say the least, and that’s a side you’ve been holding back from your best friend. 
Yes, you’ve had a drink or two at some group hangouts in the past, but this, you, Jake, and a few bottles of gifted wine, surprisingly has never happened in the past. You’ve made sure of it.
What almost makes it worse is that Jake’s always been a sweetheart about your choices to avoid drinking around him. After your first few bouts of excuses and timid declines, he doesn’t pressure you to keep up with him when he’s knocking back shots or drinking pitchers of beer. 
Whenever your other friends press another drink into your hand, he subtly takes it for you, drinking it in large gulps before returning the glass from your hand. And when he pulls away, his fingers always find a way to graze against yours. Thankfully the bars are usually dimly lit so he can’t see the blush heating at your cheeks. 
He doesn’t realize it’s because of him. He’s the reason bartenders give you weird looks when you ask for watered-down vodka cranberries or why you’re always the last one standing in your friend group whenever you go out. This restraint around alcohol has gone on for years all because you harbor an intense attraction for your best friend. 
It didn’t start that way. He crashed into your quiet life and obliterated the dynamics of your friend group. When you first met him, you thought his cocky and blasé attitude was overcompensating for something.
He’s always been a natural sweet talker, not afraid to approach people and get what he wants, but it seemed too good to be true. He’s too charismatic, too interested in the dull life you live, how did he dig out a hole and place himself so easily in your life?
Easily, too easily, you fell for his sweet words, words that would inevitably draw you into his orbit and leave you hanging off of every syllable. 
You learned that no matter what he says, or does, he’s just being friendly. He’s just like that with everyone. It means nothing when he gives you a cheeky grin from across the bar or when he consistently insists on walking you home at night. Sure, he might stick closer to your side than anyone else's, but it’s just because you’re best friends. Right?
Of course, girls have tried and failed to lock down your best friend, misinterpreting his outgoing personality as him propositioning them. And they always come to you – whining over his lack of interest, the sudden and unexpected rejection of their advances, and grappling for any advice from his girl best friend. 
“He’s single, isn’t he?” The words are said over the thin rim of a martini glass. She glances over at you with hopeful eyes framed by beautifully dark lashes. 
You barely knew the girl’s name, but she offered to buy you a drink (a shirley temple) so you stayed for the conversation, however, you weren’t expecting the topic to circle back to Jake. But after watching her down a couple of martinis, gushing more and more about the man you’ve been pining after for an eon, you felt too bad to leave her. 
“Um…as far as I know.” It’s a little uncomfortable, talking about Jake like you’re his keeper.
“Then – then why won’t he go out – or even hook up with me?” Her voice has gotten louder with the exasperation of her inquiries. You look around at the bar, hoping she can keep it together before you’re kicked out for causing a ruckus. 
“Look, I don’t know if I’m the best –”
“But you’re his best friend, right?”
“Yes, but –”
“What’s his type?”
His type?
God, you wish you knew. It would make things a lot easier for yourself (and the world). But you genuinely don’t know. You’ve never seen him with a girl. Sure, he could be hooking up on the side, but why would he tell you?
You look down at your glass. All that’s left is ice, melting into an amalgam of pink-tinted liquid around the one maraschino cherry you refuse to eat. 
“I don’t know.” You mumble.
You’re already through a bottle and a half, lounging comfortably on the overstuffed couch in your living room. Something is playing on the TV but it’s all a blur behind the feeling of his thigh pressing against yours. 
Jake has never been afraid of showing his affection through physical means, whether it’s greeting ladies with a friendly peck on the cheek or ruffling one of the guy’s hair when he goes by. It’s natural to him. Casual.
But with you, he’s mostly hands-off. 
It’s not that you deign to feel his touch, to feel the scratchiness of his whiskers rub against the edge of your hairline, or lower against the sensitive skin of your throat, you just can’t control your reactions when he does it. Even the light touch of his hand against your lower back when he guides you has you standing straighter. 
He noticed your strong reactions to him and backed off, assuming you were uncomfortable or unused to friendly touches. And it was fine until you would do anything to feel him against you again, just one more time. It’s desperate, really, but you don’t really care when he looks at you with those cocoa-butter eyes. 
And now, he’s closer than ever but still hands-off. He politely sits next to you, one arm slung over the back of the couch and the other in his lap. But not touching you. 
He’s been making commentary about the dumb hallmark movie you impulsively rented, pointing out all the unrealistic plot conveniences and bright red flags that the main character blatantly ignores. He seems relaxed. 
You aren’t.
Two stained wine glasses sit on the coffee table, dangerously close to the edge, still holding a sip of liquid. You can barely make out the intricate print of his lips on the edge of the cup, highlighted by the brightness of the hallmark snow scene. 
You want so badly to steal the glass away and lick up the residual bitter-sweetness of the wine that’s touched his lips. To taste him, even indirectly. Or directly. Lick the sweetness straight from the source, tongue intermingling with him as he takes just as much from you. You feel yourself pulse from that image alone.
“Bunny?” Heat prickles against the back of your neck as you realize how far away your brain is, thinking such filthy and depraved thoughts of the man who is sitting right next to you. 
He dotes on you like a person would their favorite pet cat. He calls you pet names, ones that make you bite your tongue and hide your face in your hands. Bunny was the first one and the one he uses the most. 
It came out of nowhere, really. You were both at a small house party and Jake convinced you to join his team in a game of beer pong. You were still a bit nervous around him, still surprised when he’d seek you out for a conversation or to get your opinion on something entirely irrelevant. 
You told him upfront that your hand-eye coordination leaves much to be desired, but he was determined to teach you. The first few throws were pitiful, so pitiful, in fact, that the other team gave you a freebie to make up for it. 
“Here, lemme give you a hand.” You couldn’t even react before he was sidled behind you, his chest nearly flush against your shoulder as his hand wrapped around your wrist. Your body is frozen, soaking in the overwhelming closeness.
You can barely decipher the individual cups of beer with his voice low behind your ear as he directs you, “Keep it right….there” He lets go of your arm and you already miss his touch, “and put a little more power into your throw.” 
He steps back, giving you space to take a breath and refocus. 
You throw it, more mechanical than you would’ve liked, but it – miraculously – goes in. 
Immediately you turn around to get his reaction, the praise that you secretly crave from a man you barely know. 
He grins down at you, “You’re a natural, bunny.” 
And the nickname stuck.
You look over at him, lazily blinking up to meet his fond gaze, “Hm?” You feel all fuzzy inside, overexcited yet pinned down by the unexplainable need to stay close to him. 
He smirks down at you, arm subtly lowering to barely touch the back of your head, “What’cha thinkin’ about, sweetheart?” You try to lean into the feeling of his arm, hoping that if you ease into it, he won’t notice. “You had this… faraway look in your eyes for a moment.”
Oh, he noticed. But there’s no way he knows what you were thinking, right? A flash of embarrassment stings hot in your cheeks. You don’t think when you shyly nuzzle your face into his bicep to avoid his curious eyes, “I think I just zoned out or something.”
He hums, “You tired?” You turn your face to look at him, cheek resting against him. God, he smells so good. You never want to move from this spot. “Want me to tuck you in?” His voice coos teasingly, but you soak in the sweetness of it. He can be so soft sometimes.
Scrambled words echo in your mind: But if you go to bed, you’ll leave. You’ll take your arm out from under me and leave me here to think about you, all alone. Why can’t you just – Your thoughts quickly dissipate when he pulls you closer to him, hand at your waist to press your body against his.
Your hand presses delicately against his chest in surprise and you can barely feel the soft thrum of his heartbeat underneath the firmness of his muscles.
You softly shake your head, “Not tired.”
“Sure, baby.” 
Baby. 
That’s new. 
Your thighs involuntarily press together with how good it sounds coming from his lips. Directed at you. Somehow, even with all the pet names he’s given you throughout the span of your friendship, this one hits home.
He says it with the casualness of a boyfriend and tenderness of a lover. You can almost feel him panting it against the crook of your neck as he pushes inside of you, hand clutching yours as his hips roll perfectly against yours. 
You don’t even realize your legs are rubbing together like a cricket at dusk until a warm hand wraps around the top of your thigh. He pulls them apart, spreading your legs like you’ve always dreamed he would. Despite the suggestive position, you still whine at the loss of friction, thoughtlessly fighting against the insisting tug of his hand.
He hushes you gently, a soft tone barely easing your frustration. You latch your fingers onto his wrist, attempting to guide him to the spot that you really need him to touch, but he barely budges. His grip on your thigh tightens when his name drips brokenly from your lips. 
“J-Jake…” 
“Sweetheart, stop.”
“But –”
“Please.” Jake looks down at you with a pained expression, all past chivalry betrayed by the darkness pooled in his eyes.
You look up at him with misty eyes and flushed skin, innocence in the palm of his hand. “I need you.” You bite your lip at your admission, stained red from the wine, and he can’t take his eyes off of you. You pull at him again and this time he lets you. Both of you look down as his hand cups you over your shorts.
“You’re too drunk right now.” The whispered attempt of resistance falls on deaf ears as you arch your hips into his touch. Neither of you notice that the movie ended, leaving you in a silence where only the exchange of breathless pants can be heard. 
“Touch me.” You whine, desperate for anything. Desperate just to be accepted by him.
His gaze briefly flicks up from where he’s touching to regard your eagerness with half-lidded eyes. He shakes his head and looks away like he’s looking for answers on the blank wall next to him. “I…shouldn’t.” 
You start to panic when you feel his hand pull away. It can’t end like this. You hold onto his wrist when a particularly needy idea pops into your mind. If he doesn’t want to ‘defile’ you, then fine. You’ll do it yourself.
“I…c-could i just rub myself against you?” You berate yourself for sounding so meek, so unsure, but you’ve never done anything like this before, never had to take control of the situation. “Like, if you don’t want to…um, touch me.” He looks at you wordlessly, gorgeous lips parted at your suggestion.
His tongue brushes over his bottom lip, “I– Okay, sure…” 
With his permission, you push up against the couch to get up and straddle over him. Clearly, he wasn’t expecting it with how his hands barely hover over your body like he’s unsure whether he wants to pull you closer or shove you off his lap. “Is this okay?” 
“Yeah.” He sounds strained, “But just for a little bit, alright?” 
“Ok.” You promise though you’re sure that once you get a taste, you’ll never want to stop. You have to make this good for him so he’ll want you back.
You settle against him, body thrumming with anticipation when your clothed cunt meets the prominent hardness under his jeans. So he does want it. His hands clasp onto your waist when you start to move over him, hips experimentally rolling against his.
Jake watches you move over him with a look of deep hunger and awe. It’s endearing how shy you are, even now grinding on his lap. Your movements are clumsy – unpracticed as you desperately try to chase that spark that’ll satisfy the heat buried deep down inside of you. 
“That good, baby?” 
You nod, mewling quietly as the seam of his jeans drags perfectly against your clit. Pleasure pools in your stomach, nudging you closer and closer to the edge. You hold onto his shoulders as you work yourself over him, panting from your effort. He starts to cant his hips upwards to meet your thrusts, pressing his erection roughly against your core to show you just how much he wants you. 
All you can think of is how good it would feel to have him bare against you, skin to skin. When you meet your peak, body hot and trembling as you rub against him, the end never comes. It’s not enough. You’re just left teetering at the top with no drop in sight.
You huff, “Jake, can I – just…please.” You let your hands drop from his shoulders to start working on his belt.
“What is it bunny, what do you need?” He looks so good under you with his wrinkled shirt unbuttoned just so to give you a peak of his collarbone and the newly open belt hanging from the loops in his tight jeans. You undo the button, fingers briefly fumbling as your knuckle brushes against his bulge.
“Just need to feel you.” You paw at the waist of his pants, trying to subtly indicate that you need his help to take them off. But he sits there and smiles sweetly at your frustrated huffs. 
“And what about me?” He says in a teasing drawl. He drags you closer to him and cups your face until your lips nearly meet yours. He’s so close that you can make out the light dusting of freckles that grace his nose and cheeks. Amber eyes bore into yours as he whispers, “You’re using my body and haven’t even given me a kiss yet.”
“Oh.” Your gaze drops to his lips, “Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize, baby.” He leans in, “just kiss me.” Your eyes flutter close when you meet the softness of his lips. You immediately melt into the gentle caress of his hand on your jaw with a sigh as he desperately keeps you close. 
Jake groans, drinking in the sweetness of your lips, a taste of pure heaven melting on the tip of his tongue, before hungrily deepening the kiss. He licks against the seam of your mouth, begging you to open yourself up to him. You surrender yourself to him, letting him slide in and taste you from the inside out. 
Your hands move up from his shoulders to his soft curls, tugging eagerly in an attempt to hear the soft groan that rumbles in his chest. He nips at your bottom lip, suckling it until it’s pink and tender, wanting to leave a mark so you’ll always think of him. He can’t help but press against you when you whimper for him, grinding eagerly against your center, wishing he was inside of you instead.  
“Just the tip.” You mumble it against his lips. He’s too far gone to clearly hear what you said, lost in a thick fog of awe, lust, and…love. At his silence, you pull away to look at him, scared you’re asking for too much. “Jake.” He nods thoughtlessly, chasing your lips, already missing your taste. He almost whines when you pull away from his touch, but quickly comes back to reality when he sees the way you’re nervously looking at him. 
He squeezes your waist comfortingly, “Anything you want, bunny.” You smile at the pet name and gratefully peck his lips. He tries to deepen the kiss, hand already pressing against the back of your head, but you cheekily pull away before he gets too far. You stand up, ignoring his objections and clingy touches as you get off of his lap. 
You fluidly slip your shirt over your head before carelessly dropping it to the floor behind you. There’s fire in his eyes as he sits back on the couch and watches you reveal the cute bra that cups you so perfectly. You tease the edge of your waistband as you look down at him, “Off, please.” You gesture at his jeans. He follows your directions, quickly shimmying his pants off, eyes on you the whole time.
You follow him, tugging your shorts off to show him the matching panties. You squeak when warm hands abruptly pull you to the couch, eagerly wandering over your waist and hips as he buries his face against your neck. 
“Can’t help it, baby,” His touch drifts up to cup the underside of your tits, trailing carefully over the curve to memorize the shape of you. “You’re just so fucking pretty.” He groans hot and heavy against your neck as he squeezes your softness. 
You’re back on top of him, naked thighs draped over his, skin against skin, and now, you can feel all of him. He’s pressed so deliciously against your core, pulsing with pure desire and heat. The only thing separating the two of you is fading self-control and a pair of thin panties.
His mustache tickles against your throat as his lips drift over your pulse point. He presses heady kisses against the edge of your jaw, gauging where your most tender spots are. 
“Oh–!” Your thighs clench around him when he touches a particularly delicate area near your ear. He gently nips at the spot, holding you tighter when you moan at the feeling.
Jake lets out a broken groan when you reach between your bodies and take him into your hand. He tries to continue giving your body loving attention with his lips, but his kisses get messy, dragging lazily over your shoulder and collarbone, with how distracted he is by your touch. He has to pull away for a breather and hold himself back from thrusting into your fist when you squeeze him teasingly at the base. 
“Bunny…” You both look down and watch as your smaller hand slowly strokes him. His cock is flush with need, leaking so prettily as you try your hardest to make it good for him. You slip your other hand under his shirt, running your fingers against his coarse happy trail to his rippling muscles. The couch groans next to you as he harshly grips the arm, barely holding himself back with white knuckles. “Oh, f-fuck.” His body stiffens under you as you brush your thumb against the sensitive underside of the tip. 
You tenderly massage the spot, watching in awe as he continues to spill over your fingers, making a mess that drips onto your inner thighs and the edge of his shirt. He groans at the sight, his cock throbbing desperately in your hold.
As beads of white paint your fingers, your mouth waters just thinking about how he tastes. You feel ravenous to see him cum, to watch how easily you can ruin him. “H-hold on, cariño. Give me a second.” Jake chokes out. His hips stutter under you before he pulls your hand away.
"Whyy." You whine, pouting up at him with starry eyes. You reach for him again with the hand he isn’t holding onto, brushing your fingers against his sensitive cock. He shudders for you with a broken groan. 
“I'm close-- just – stop for a moment –” Both hands are pinned to your side as Jake’s chest heaves under his shirt. He rests his head back against the couch, eyes closed as he struggles to hold himself back. 
“But…I want you to.”
“I know, baby,” He lifts his head, dark eyes boring into yours, and pulls your hands behind you. You squirm in his lap, back arching at the position, suddenly remembering your own desperation. It feels good to be bound by his hands, to let him do whatever he wants to your body. “But I don’t wanna finish if it isn’t in you.” 
Your face heats in embarrassment. “Oh.” 
Jake picks up on your sudden shyness immediately. 
“You like that, don’t you, bunny?” He smirks, “The thought of me filling you up, then dripping out of you?”
You bite your lip, “A little bit.”
“A little, hm?” He ponders, “Well why don’t we try it out and see.” Your thighs clench around him at the idea.
“Ok.”
“Sit up, let me see how wet you are.” He helps you raise yourself on your knees so you’re hovering over his lap. Letting go of your wrists, he drags his thumb against your clothed cunt; The fabric has a darkened splotch along your opening, teasing him with evidence of your lust. “Aw, sweetheart, you’re soaked…” He nudges your panties to the side, slipping his fingers against your wet opening. “Gonna ruin these pretty little panties, hm?” You nod wordlessly, hips desperately pushing against his touch.
He gently slides against your dripping entrance, making a mess of your cunt with teasing circling motions. Wet, decadent sounds fill the limited space between you as his fingers prod ever so slightly against the spot where you need him most.  A helpless sound is pushed out of you when he finally eases two fingers inside of you.
“Is that good, bunny?” He coos as he slowly fucks his fingers into you. It’s only his fingers, but he’s already filling you up so deliciously. His dark eyes are hungrily locked on how he fills you up over and over again, slick dripping down his knuckles and over his palm. “Hm?” 
You nod again, brain foggy with pleasure. “Yes, J–” You can barely get a word out when he curls his fingers up, pressing so sweetly and deep against the sensitive walls of your cunt. You have to stop yourself from wrapping your legs around his wrist, it feels so good. “Uh–!” You almost fall over and have to hold onto his shoulders for support as he begins to speed up. 
“That’s it, baby…” Your grip on his shoulders tightens as he rapidly presses against your g-spot. You’re already hurdling towards the edge and he can feel it with how you start to clench around his fingers. “Make a mess of my hand..” Within a handful of thrusts, you’re gasping out with pleasure, your thighs shaking over him. He takes his hand away and holds you against him to keep you sitting upright as your body is overtaken with euphoria. You pant against his shoulder, trying to gather your senses. 
You can feel him under you, hard and wanting, throbbing as you whimper and arch against him, letting the pleasure work through your body. Even when you’re barely coming down from an orgasm, you’re still longing to be filled with something more. But he ignores his own needs, instead focusing on you, softly pecking the top of your head and rubbing comforting circles against your arms. 
You lift your head from his chest to look at him, taking in his flushed cheeks and dark eyes. Jake stares right back, unabashedly, in awe. “You’re so good to me, bunny.” You shiver at the praise. At the comfort. You shyly divert your eyes to stare at the marks you’ve left on his shoulders. 
“Only for you, Jake.” You don’t see it, but his lips lift into a small smile at your words. 
His hands drift down from your arms to hold you by the waist. “Only for me.” He echos, solidifying the statement. 
You gasp when he suddenly presses you down against his cock. Looking back up at him, he meets your wide eyes with a mischievous grin, hips rolling teasingly against yours. “And I’m all yours.” You position yourself over him all while keeping eye contact, wanting to drink in every microexpression on his face. 
“Yes.” You both sigh as he barely brushes against your wet opening. He takes a deep breath, clutching your hips as you begin your descent.
Your body slowly manages to swallow the first inch of him. And – oh – it’s so much better than you expected. He stretches you so fully, even barely inside of you, filling you exactly how you need him to. 
You let out a strained whimper from the back of your throat as you slowly lower yourself onto his lap. You whine as your body desperately clenches and stretches to accommodate him inside of you. His hold on your hips tightens as your thighs meet his, now fully impaled by his hard cock.  
“I thought it was ‘just the tip’.” Jake tries to tease, his deep voice gravelly with lust, but it comes out as more of a groan than a taunt.
You slowly shake your head, body trembling as you get used to the feeling of him inside of you. 
“You said you’re all mine, daddy.” The words practically melt from your lips, lethargic with heat. It catches him off guard. You moan, hips slowly moving over him to feel him deeper inside. “M-mine,” You repeat with a pant, so lost in desperation that you don’t even notice the way he’s looking at you, frozen in place. 
“I-I did say that, didn’t I?” He doesn’t know what else to say, brain overheating from your ministrations. You’ve never called him a pet name before, let alone used the word ‘daddy’ anywhere near him. You’ve always been a shy little bunny around him, always preciously out of reach, a tease to fantasize about, but now you’re wrapped around him, moaning beautifully destructive words. 
What really surprises him is the way he’s eagerly throbbing inside of you from that word. Desperate thoughts float in his mind: She wants me to take care of her, she needs me.
“Fuck me.” He groans to himself, willing his body to hold back from cumming inside of you right then and there. 
“P-please.” You beg with a broken voice, thinking he’s talking to you. Jake just nods understandingly and holds you closer with an arm wrapped around your torso, wanting to feel your whole body against his. He starts off slow, pressing up into your kneeling body with measured thrusts as he dots kisses along your neck and shoulders. You sigh something wistful before meeting his movements, eagerly lifting your hips against him. 
“God, bunny, you feel so good.” He can't help it, you’re all-encompassing like this, with your pretty little sighs and panted breaths, it’s everything he’s ever wanted, so he starts to speed up, projecting his desperation into his actions. Your back arches at the change of pace as he pumps into you, and it only makes him feel deeper. “So tight around me.” He pushes against your front wall on every thrust and you swear it makes you see stars. 
Your clit inevitably rubs against him as your bodies move with each other and it takes your pleasure to another level. You’re sure the sounds you’re making verge on embarrassing, but he seems to eat them up anyway. “Ah, right there--! Jake –”
“No, bunny,” He grits out, “It’s daddy.”
You whimper, “Daddy – ” He feels you flutter deliciously around him as your head begins to lull backward. He groans as your cunt sucks him deep inside, desperately milking his cock as you’re seized by ecstasy.
“Fucking take it, sweetheart.” 
“I-I think m’gonna…” Your eyes roll back before you can finish your sentence and white fills your vision. You let out a keening sound as you gush over him, thighs clenched around his as your second high moves through you. 
His eyes squeeze shut as he gives in and starts fucking you at a punishing pace. Your mouth drops open around an empty moan. You can only hold onto him as he takes what he wants from your body, intensifying your orgasm with sloppy thrusts. With a few more upward pushes, he lets out a breathy grunt and finishes inside of you, painting your walls with his warmth. 
You both stay in this position for a little longer. 
You can feel Jake’s heart beat rapidly against your chest as you cuddle against him. He’s still recovering from the onslaught of sensations and emotions. Both of you are sticky with sweat and slick, but neither of you care. His cock is still inside of you, keeping his cum locked inside as you dutifully warm him with your cunt. 
“Such a pretty girl…” He croons, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. He looks down at you with such sincerity in his eyes, that it’s almost overwhelming. You bite your lip nervously at the compliment and attempt to look away, but before you can, he’s tilting your face up with the light touch of a finger, “Really? You’re gonna act all shy with my cock still in you?”
His words only make you squirm on top of him. He nearly chokes at the accidental stimulation. 
“You can’t just say stuff like that.” Your voice is small and cute.
“Then how am I supposed to fluster my girl?” 
Your eyes widen. His girl? 
“Your girl?”
“My girl.” He hums with a small smile before placing a soft kiss on your lips.
2K notes · View notes
dollfacefantasy · 4 months
Text
Special Day
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pairing: mafia!leon kennedy x fem!reader
summary: this year your husband wants to give you a special present for your birthday
cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, oral (fem receiving), fingering, daddy kink, breeding kink
word count: 5.2k
a/n: birthday fic for someone i am so happy to know and call my friend, @explorevenus. i love her so so much, she's one of the most fun and kindest people i have ever known. she's so totally cool and you all should wish her a very happy birthday.
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For my pretty little doll on her special day. I’ll see you tonight. I love you.
That’s the message scrawled onto the scrap of paper that’s attached to the hanger on the closet door. On the hanger, dangled one of the prettiest dresses you’d ever seen in your life. Your favorite color, flowy and shimmering. Of the hundreds of things he’d asked you to wear over the course of your relationship, this had to be in the top three.
It almost made up for the fact that he was going to be on the job for nearly the entire day. You weren’t even confident he’d make it home in time for the dinner reservations you had, but if you had to be alone, at least you would look good doing it.
If anything, you tried not to let his absence bother you too much because it could be worse. You make a point to yourself to remember that today wasn’t like years ago when you would’ve spent the whole day at work just to come home to an empty house. So far you've spent it out, getting your nails done, lunch at one of your favorite places, some light shopping. And it was all on his dime. This was the one day a year where he truly gave you no limits, no allowance, no teasing about your debit card being worn out. Your birthday always was about letting you indulge in anything you wanted as much as your heart desired. You reminded yourself of that when you felt the familiar pain of longing tighten up your chest.
It wasn’t like the feeling was a foreign one. He’d been at work on every birthday you’d had since the two of you got together. He’d treat you to the shopping spree combined with sending you a lavish arrangement of flowers, chocolates, stuffed animals, or whatever you had been wanting that year. Then he’d come to you the next day, or once you started living together, in the middle of the night. Always climbing into bed or coming up behind you with a hushed “‘m sorry, babydoll” and some gentle kisses to your head. And you’d never complain because the next day before you even had a chance to get annoyed, an expensive new bracelet would be on your wrist, and he’d deliver his apologies between your legs with his tongue, fingers, or cock. Your choice.
For the week leading up to your birthday this year, you had just been silently hoping it would be different. Considering he had been spending more time with you lately, and less time in sketchy meetings, it didn’t seem unreasonable. The higher he climbed in the dark world that he worked in, the closer you came to living the glamorous life he’d promised you from the beginning. His higher position scored the two of you the penthouse you currently sat in. It got you vacations to exotic places and clothes you previously only would’ve been able to afford in your wildest fantasies.
The sun had just begun to set, casting a warm orange-pink haze over your room. You figured you should put on the outfit he’d chosen for you. Lifting the dress up, you realize there’s something else attached to the hanger. Obscured from view at first glance is a delicate lingerie set, lacy pink bra and panties with rosebuds embroidered across them in rows. A smile rises on your lips as you slip off the clothing you had on and unclip the dainty articles from the hanger. Your fingertips smooth over the lace while visions of Leon’s hands dancing across your chest, squeezing your breasts and pinching your nipples, flash through your mind.
You slide the thin straps onto your arms and reach behind to clasp it into place. Then you pull the panties up, looking in the mirror at how they fit over your hips. The dress comes after these. You put it on and are left blown away by his choice for you. It looked good. Showed you off, highlighted your assets in the most flattering way.
As you admire your reflection, the main doors to the apartment open and close. Keys rattle as they’re dropped on the side table. He enters the bedroom and you hear a hum of adoration rumble from his chest.
“There’s the birthday girl,” he says softly as he makes his way to you.
Your eyes capture his gaze with a fond glance. He’d actually made it back when he said he would. Maybe things were looking up. You turn your back to him, revealing the parted fabric that left your back and the hem of your panties exposed.
“Zip me up?” you request.
Without a word, he pulls you close by your waist. You knew he loved doing this. Picking what you wore and watching your body slip into it, filling out his fantasies. His fingers tug the zipper upward and secure the dress together. He presses a tender kiss to your neck and inhales a deep breath of his favorite scent in the whole world, your perfume. His arms wrap around you as his palms rub down your body, over your belly and to your hips. He leaves a few more smooches on your throat as he directs your stare back to the mirror.
“That dress looks gorgeous on you. My perfect little doll,” he murmurs.
“Thank you,” you respond, catching his eyes in the reflective glass ahead of you. You scan the picture in front of you. His large frame engulfing yours, damn near lovesick expression on his face, hands and arms as possessive as they could be in such a basic stance.
“No, thank you,” he says, “You been having a nice day? Being a good girl? Staying safe?”
You sink back against his chest more as his low voice seeps out against your skin. “Mhm,” you answer with a slight nod.
“Yeah? You ready to have some more fun tonight?” he whispers, lips brushing your earlobe.
You nod, sweet and docile. God, it was like you melted in his presence. Could never hold onto anything with him around. It all went out the window in order to get his praise and feel the warmth of his affection on you.
“That’s my baby,” he coos with one more wet kiss on your cheek. He backs up as if he’s about to let you go, but as you turn around, he grabs your jaw. The pads of his fingertips gently dig into the flesh of your cheeks. In that loving and condescending tone that sent heat rushing through your body, he asks, “Who’s my pretty girl?”
It was such a simple thing. You didn’t know why it worked, but it always did. A big smile spreads across your face, and your eyes flit away with timid modesty.
“Me,” you confirm, tone soft but sure.
“That’s right,” he says simply and pulls you into an actual kiss.
After that, you’re almost giddy, high off the small gesture. It made your blood run hot and your head swim with a dizzy feeling of love. You all but prance to the rack against the wall that holds your shoes. Slipping on some matching heels, you face him once more and do a little motion to show off the completed look.
He chuckles at your twirl and opens his arms. You immediately go to him and find your place in his grasp. Kissing the top of your head, he mutters “What’d I do to get the sweetest girl in the world all to myself, hm?”
You shrug, and that’s all he needs before the two of you are ready to go. He stuffs his wallet in his pocket and walks towards the elevator with you tucked to his side. His fingers coast down your jaw and stroke your hair. Your eyes stay locked on him from the doors shutting to the little ding letting you know the trip is over.
The two of you float outside to the luxury car Leon rode around in now. Not even drove because he had been given a driver recently. All the two of you had to do was simply slip into the backseat.
He holds you close, nearly on his lap for the duration of the ride. One hand massages the back of your neck, keeping your head against his shoulder. The other delves beneath the skirt of your dress only to knead your plush thighs and feel your skin between his fingers. All the attention keeps your head spinning and your body craving his love.
It’s only around twenty minutes before the car pulls to a stop in front of the restaurant. You’re greeted by the familiar twinkling lights and neon letters of one of your favorite places. You beam at him and take his hand. He watches your pleasant reaction, so pleased he could make you happy with something so simple.
Getting in is quick and painless since he had called ahead of time, dead set on making this as special for you as possible. You’re seated at a booth in the back. It’s not completely private, but well secluded from the other patrons filling seats.
He slides in first, grinning as he pats the cushioning next to him. You follow, and immediately, he pulls you close. Your thighs are squished against each other beneath the table. His lips are caressing your neck as you skim the menu causing you to squirm and laugh softly.
“You get anything you want, pretty baby. Tonight’s all about my precious girl,” he whispers.
You nod and nuzzle into the affection a bit, brushing your nose with his. After deciding what you want, he orders your meal and drink. The two of you talk, and from this alone, it seems to be shaping up into the perfect night. You talk about everything and anything, catching up with him like you hadn’t in a while. You see the Leon you love, your Leon. The guy who comes home late with dark eyes and a flat voice is nowhere to be found, and you couldn’t be more pleased. He stays close the entire time, seemingly not able to help how touchy he was with you.
Eventually, your orders arrive, and things continue to look up. Your smile won’t leave your face as you eat and drink. Laughs fly between the two of you like neither of you had ever seen something bad in your lives. It’s only hours later, towards the end of dinner when you can see him simmering down a bit. His expression grows more serious. Different from usual though. It’s not stern. It’s more… vulnerable. He pulls you flush against him yet again and squeezes his arms around you softly.
“I’m happy you’re having a good time, sweetheart. You know I love seeing that pretty smile. And you should know, I’ve wanted your birthday to turn out this perfect every year. But now I can actually provide that,” he says, continuing to grow more genuine.
You nod, not totally sure where he’s going here but eager to find out.
“Usually, I’d have something big for you to open at the end of your day,” he starts. He almost looks nervous at this point, and it’s concerning you, “This year, I don’t have anything like that because I thought we might do something different for your main gift.”
You look up at him and shift your body to face him a little more. He had your attention now. You try to mentally run through different possibilities for a different kind of big present. Vacation? No, you’d done that before. Moving? That also seemed unlikely. Maybe it was related to his work? You honestly had no clue.
“What is it?” you ask.
“I think it’s time we start trying for a baby,” he says, his eyes going soft and his voice dropping to be more hushed.
Your heart jolts inside your chest. You almost don’t believe you heard him right. He must have said something else. That or he was just playing the most cruel joke in the entire world.
“But you said you didn’t want any?” you say skeptically.
“I know I did. But… I was wrong,” he says with a slight smile. 
Leon had told you on each rare occasion that the topic of kids came up that he did not want any under any circumstances. This life was too dangerous, he wouldn’t have time for them, he wanted you all to himself. All were reasons you’d heard over the years. You’d honestly just shoved your small hopes for a family away because he seemed certain of his position on the topic. You’d come to terms that it would never happen. It was him or the white picket fence fantasy, and you’d chosen him with no real hesitation.
“And you just changed your mind out of the blue?” you ask.
He shakes his head with a chuckle. He kisses your pulse point as his fingers start tracing small circles on your arm. “No, no. I’ve been thinking about this for a while,” he whispers.
Your breath hitches at the sensation of his mouth on your skin again. You tilt your head back and shut your eyes, letting him work. You were already buzzed from the drinks you had, and this wasn’t making it easier to think through your line of questioning.
“I’ve been having these dreams, y’know,” he breathes as if he senses your uncertainty, “Once every couple days, I’m seeing you pregnant. You’re looking fucking gorgeous, belly swollen and bright smile on your face. Then I wake up. And after a few times, I realized I don’t want that to only be a dream anymore.”
He continues trailing his mouth along your skin, leaving small love bites scattered throughout the sheen remnants of saliva. Your head is swirling with the mix of his actions and words, and what it means. He wanted you pregnant. It didn’t sound real to you even with his brief explanation.
“You want to change the entire direction of our lives because you had a few dreams?” you ask.
He laughs softly into the crook of your neck. “I’d been thinking about it anyway. I’m not getting any younger, baby. I guess I’ve softened in my old age cause what I want more than anything is to see my precious little doll holding our baby,” he says with a mix of teasing and seriousness in his voice.
It makes you smile and exhale with amusement. You turn your face in his direction and catch his lips in a real kiss. When he pulls away, his breath is coming out in heavier puffs. His eyes, blown out with love, are locked in a stare with you. His hand slips down to your midriff, palm flattening over your tummy.
“It wasn’t so hard to realize, babydoll. I’d be fucking insane to not want to see you carrying my baby. You’ll be the prettiest little mama,” he whispers.
His voice had become huskier, his thumb moving back and forth on your bottom lip. You were completely enraptured with him right now. Your head was growing fuzzier by the second, and the desire for him to fuck you full of cum was only getting stronger.
“You can’t even understand how much I’ll love watching that belly grow. How it’ll start sticking out of every shirt you have till we have to buy you a whole set of new ones,” he murmurs against your skin, “And don’t even get me started on how these are gonna fill out.” His hand moves to your breasts, gripping the plump flesh under his palm .
Now your breath was picking up a bit too. You shift in your seat in an attempt to alleviate the building tension in your center. His kisses become more aggressive and simple touches morph into rougher grabs.
“I’m not gonna be able to keep my hands off you, babydoll. Gonna have to fuck you like we’re still trying even when you’re in the last few months,” he grunts.
The softest whimper escapes you, but he hears it. You feel his smirk against your skin. He lightly nips at your throat and pulls back, letting you see his smug expression in its entirety.
“You like that idea, yeah?” he coos quietly, “So much attention for you, baby. Constantly being doted on. You’re not gonna lift a finger for nine months. Gonna let me take care of everything while all your energy goes into growing our baby.”
You look up at him helplessly. Big, sweet eyes that remind him of a puppy. He grins as your head bobs up and down in a nod.
“My good fucking girl. Let’s get out of here,” he says.
You’re quick to follow him out of the booth after he drops a couple bills on the table. Your fingers lace with his as he leads you to the main doors and back to the car. You take him in as he guides you. Just a few moments to admire his broad shoulders and muscular biceps. His protective grip and eyes that seemed serious to everyone else, but you could tell held more mischievous intent.
Once you reach the car, he opens the door for you, giving you a quick smack on the ass as you climb in. He’s right next to you after that, and as the engine comes to life, you almost wish he’d waited to have that conversation in here instead. Because now you were gonna have to sit here, turned on and untouched for the ride back. Heated skin and glossy eyes, it was pretty obvious how you were feeling. Most likely everyone in that restaurant and the driver sitting one seat in front of you all knew that Leon was going to fuck you dumb as soon as you stepped through the doors to your apartment.
You come to figure though, that if it’s already so obvious, what’s the harm in being a little more overt? Scooting over to him, you lean into his firm side. He looks down at you knowingly. Your fingers curl over his thick thigh, nearly brushing the most sensitive area of his lap.
“Feeling a little impatient?” he teases softly.
You nod. Sure your driver could hear murmuring, you just hoped he couldn’t make out exact words.
“Yeah, what do you want me to do about it?” he mocks, “You need Daddy’s fingers in that tight cunt? Can’t even wait till we get home to cum?”
You bite your lip to muffle the whine blooming in your throat. Your face burns at the use of the title that melted your mind down to a few simple words. Yes Daddy. Thank you Daddy. Pretty please. Wanna cum. 
With another nod, you sink further into his chest. Your eyes remain up and keep their focus on him.
“Well, since it’s your birthday…” he starts. His hand swoops beneath your dress, bypassing your thighs this time and cupping your pussy, fingers coasting over the damp fabric.
You were pulsing with desire, your heart thudding against your chest. He pulls your lacy garment to the side to run his digits through your folds and feel the slick that had gathered for him. A low chuckle leaves him, and all you can think is how grateful you are for the radio being turned on, no matter how low the volume. From how wet you were, you were sure in dead silence you’d be able to hear more lewd noises than the words spilling from Leon’s mouth.
“Oh, you really can’t wait. You’re already making a mess all over my seats,” he whispers.
The pad of his finger swirls over your clit, and you hum quietly in relief. The pressure in the pit of your belly releases a bit as the warm flow of pleasure courses through you. Your eyes flutter shut, your hands hook around his arm for comfort, and you press your face to his shoulder to obscure your reactions to the feeling.
“My perfect little doll. I press the right button and look how well you behave,” he breathes.
You suck in a breath, narrowly avoiding a whimper tumbling into the car. He plays with your bundle of nerves for a minute more before slipping two fingers down and slipping them inside you.
Your fingers dig into the sleeve of his suit, clutching it as he pumps in and out of you. He works himself in, up to his knuckles. Your thighs part a little more to give him some space to work with. He shakes his head and playfully tuts at the display of need.
“Poor baby, Daddy got you so worked up, didn’t he?” he coos softly against your head.
You nod quickly. All your focus is on keeping quiet as his fingers move between your walls as you clamp around them. He smiles and continues lightly. It was your birthday so he would be nice, wouldn’t try to embarrass you too bad.
You’re so wrapped up in the throes of ecstasy he’s bringing you that you don’t even notice when the car has stopped. The only thing you notice is his fingers are now gone and you feel painfully empty.
Your eyes dart up when you lose the warm, filling sensation. Unlike usual, you contain your whine of protest as you realize your moments away from getting what you really wanted.
Like a movie of the beginning of the evening playing in reverse, you both make your way back to the elevator. He keeps a firm hold on your hand as he takes the lead. You stumble behind, all but collapsing in his arms once you're in the elevator. He leans down into some sloppy kisses. Your tongues meet, and your lips smoosh against each other fervently as if you’re running out of time.
After what seems like forever, you hear that little ding, and he wastes no time pulling you into the apartment. You’re kissing on the way to the bedroom, hands roaming one another as you bump into furniture and nearly knock clutter off tables. His suit jacket is gone before the bed is even in sight. Buttons on his shirt had already been popped open as he throws you on the bed.
He climbs on top of you, continuing to make out with you for a moment. His lips start to head south, finding their place on your neck again while his hands start pushing up the skirt of your dress to bunch it at your waist. There was no teasing tonight. You were the birthday girl after all, and he intended to keep his word that the evening was about you.
His entire body drifts downward now. Placing himself on the end of the mattress, you nearly can’t see him from fabric that was hiked up. You can feel him though. Tongue and teeth grazing along your inner thighs, making you shudder.
In the midst of his frenzy of desire, he seems to remember something. He rises to his knees and starts to properly remove the dress from your body.
“Almost forgot to unwrap my gift,” he says.
He’s discarded the dress to the floor in no time. You lie there, on display for him in the lingerie he’d chosen just for this. His hands stroke your sides as he takes in the view of your nipples pebbles beneath the embroidered rosebuds, the soaked patch of fabric between your thighs. He’s lost in the sight of you, feeling almost as hazy as you did.
“Sweet baby, the only present I ever need,” he mumbles before lowering himself to the bed again.
He yanks down the pretty panties and tosses them over to sit with your dress. Then you finally feel some of the relief you’d been craving. He dives into your cunt, lips moving as he envelops your sex in the heat of his mouth. 
His tongue strokes up and down the velvet skin. He laps at your clit, paying attention to the precious bundle of nerves that had you crying out and writhing in his hold. You reach down and tug at his hair, causing a loud groan to emanate from the junction of your thighs. He devours you with increasing fervor.
“Pussy’s so fucking pretty,” he mutters into you, “So cute. My favorite toy.”
Your head falls back while your hips roll against his face. Gasps and whines erupt from your throat freely as you rotate between clawing at the sheets and pulling at his hair.
“All for you Daddy,” you choke out, trying not to devolve into a complete mess just yet.
He smirks up at you, enjoying the pathetic lilt in your voice. His thumb rubs your clit in quick strokes now while his mouth takes a quick break to speak. 
“That’s right, baby. All for Daddy,” he repeats, words coming out slow like you’d struggle to understand if he spoke too fast, “All mine whenever I want it. Isn’t that right?”
“Mhm, whenever you want,” you babble back.
“My smart girl,” he teases before returning to licking your cunt.
The room is vibrating to you. You’re so high in the clouds you can’t register anything in your mind that isn’t him. You vaguely feel him working two fingers inside you again as his lips wrap around your clit and suck on it in a way that causes you to shriek.
He laughs and continues on, holding your body in place as it jerks and seizes under his touch.
“Good girl, babydoll. Cum all over Daddy’s face. You deserve it,” he encourages you.
You keep cumming. Your slick coats his chin and mouth, and he laps up every drop that he can. He pleasures you through the high. Once he’s worked you over the edge, and he can tell you’re coming down, he pulls off.
“My favorite sound in the whole world. Those pretty noises you make while you let go for me,” he murmurs as he crawls back on top of you. He nuzzles your neck, leaving some kisses on the skin in the wake of your powerful release.
“You know that normally, I’d keep going, but I think we both wanna get to the next thing. Want me to breed that sweet pussy till I’m firing blanks,” he says.
He finishes pulling his shirt off and removes the clothing from his lower body quickly. He’s back on top of you before you even register he was gone. Lazily stroking his cock, he slides it between your folds, gently fitting up against you.
“My little doll ready?” he whispers.
You hook your arms around his neck and nod. He can tell by your languid movements that you’re almost loopy off your release.
“Yeah you are. My perfect girl,” he whispers as he slides in, sheathing himself in the warmth of your pussy.
He grunts and tightens his hold on you as he sinks all the way in with no resistance. Your walls flutter around him, already beginning to charge up the hot coils in his belly.
“Swear you were made for me,” he mumbles into your neck, “Pussy made for me to fuck full. Precious little face made for me to kiss.”
“Mhm,” you hum absentmindedly. You hook your legs around his waist, locking his hips against yours as he starts to grind himself into your cunt. His pelvis rubs against your sensitive clit while the head of his cock prods all your favorite spots deep inside.
He grunts and groans against your throat. Both of your hot and sticky skin slides against the others. His breath fans across you in hot pants as he starts working his hips a little harder, rocking in and out.
“Everything about you is all for me. My perfect doll. My good girl. My gorgeous fucking wife,” he growls.
You nod eagerly as you pull him closer. His hips smack against yours repeatedly, his heavy balls clapping against you with each thrust. Your breaths are shaky. It feels like you're headed towards another release with no ability to hold it off or stop it. You whine for him and squeeze around his length. So fucking tight, he actually whimpers to stop himself from blowing his load.
After a while more, he knows it’s imminent for both of you. He keeps pistoning his hips, rutting deep inside you while kissing you and capturing those sweet little sounds in his mouth.
“You there, babydoll? Gonna cum again for me?” he asks quietly, watching for the nod he knew you’d respond with. Once he sees it, he works a little harder, bringing you to the peak. “Yeah? You ready for Daddy to cum too? I know you are.”
With his voice rasping in your ear, his cock drilling deep inside you, it only takes one more thrust of his hips for you to reach the brink. You spill over into your second release. Your hips buck, and your chest heaves as the second round of ecstasy zips through you.
He hums as you contract around his shaft, clenching and drawing him in further, as if you’re crying out for him to give you his cum already. His cock twitches inside of you as he gasps and erratically fucks it into you. His entire body weight is pressing you down into the mattress as he lets go and gives up on not crushing you beneath him. It only added to the pleasure though. It was the closest you’d ever felt, and not only because his cock was bumping your cervix every couple seconds.
Soon enough, he’s spilled all that he can into you. He remains on top of you though, keeping you right where you should be. His arms snake under your body and the shift causes you to whimper since he still hadn’t pulled out. He holds you to him like you really were his dolly, peppering kisses along the side of your face and dragging his nose against your head.
“So good for me, like always,” he mumbles.
You reciprocate the affection with a few lazy kisses of your own. Your arms rest around him with no actual grip, simply just a way to show you return the sentiments.
The two of you just lay there like that for a little while, taking in each other, enjoying the peace that comes with release. You break the silence soon enough with a whisper.
“Think this has been my best birthday yet.”
He smiles and smooches you a few more times. “You deserve it, baby.”
“Thank you for making it perfect for me,” you say and tighten your limbs around him.
“Mhm,” he hums like it’s nothing. He then pulls back a little and looks down at you. “I don’t know why you’re talking like it’s over though, sweetheart. There’s still a few hours left of your actual birthday, and even then, I’m not gonna let some numbers stop me from fucking my gorgeous wife.”
You return the smile and pull him into a few more pecks.
“And I wasn’t lying, we’re going until I’m absolutely certain you’re knocked up,” he murmurs as he rocks his hips against you again, drawing a soft whimper from your throat, “And you know how precise I am. Probably shouldn’t make any plans for tomorrow, actually, probably need the whole weekend too.” He looks at you with a cocky smile before continuing the roll of his hips.
1K notes · View notes
shotoh · 11 months
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❝ I THINK I… ♡ ❞
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⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚ when they realize they’re in love with you
feat. oliver aiku, itoshi rin, nagi seishiro, isagi yoichi, itoshi sae, kunigami rensuke, mikage reo
cw + tw. fluff, some angst, fem!reader, aged-up!characters, pro-player!characters, friends to lovers + established relationships, pet names, (!!!)attempted assault (in kunigami’s scenario, but he’s obviously not the assailant), alcohol usage (in oliver’s), maximum self-indulgence
notes. jdjsjsn this is kind of all over the place but i just wanted to word dump some cute scenarios and headcanons
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OLIVER AIKU
honestly, he’d get kind of scared. and not in an appalled way like, “psh, i’m oliver aiku! i can get any woman i want so why should i only care about this one person?!”
no, it’s because he’s fully aware of his disloyal and womanizing past that he’s afraid of this. he’s afraid he’ll end up hurting you—the one person he truly cares about—and he believes you don’t deserve that.
you deserve so much better than a douchebag like him.
he keeps that growing pit of adoration to himself and carries on with his life as always, but that can only do so much when he’s so clearly infatuated with you.
the most he lets himself do is tag along on your night out at clubs. however, he doesn’t drink a lick of alcohol. he needs to be sober to take care of you in case you get too wild out there to do so yourself. while he’s there though he talks to a few of the women flocking around, entertains them a bit, maybe as a feeble attempt to get you off his mind and forget about the jealousy rooted deep inside him when too many guys check you out and ask for a dance. but nowadays, he can never find it in himself to take any of these women home. that’s how deep his affections for you have run.
at one point during the night, you approach him with one too many drinks in your system, evident by your wobbly steps and the carefree grin plastered on your face.
“oli~! why don’ yer dance wit me?!” you slur, nearly toppling in front of him if not for oliver dashing forward to stop you from falling on your face.
“i think you’ve had one too many drinks, sweetheart,” he chides. after that he’s draping his large coat over your bare shoulders and leading you back to his car to get you home, while ignoring all the pouty women on his way out.
you object to leaving at first, droning about how the night is still young, but oliver is persistent in getting you home safe and sound. eventually, you doze off in the passenger seat while he’s driving. when he parks in front of your apartment complex, he carries you all the way up to your door, fishes out your keys from your clutch, and finally gets you into bed.
he lingers a little bit longer to make sure you’re all settled and if you need his help with anything, but once the buzz in your system has fizzled and your eyes are fully lidded, oliver assumes you’re out like a light. that is, until he’s sitting at your bedside and he hears the faintest murmur from your lips.
“love you… oliver…” is what comes out in a lovely daze and he almost wants to deny he heard it for both yours and his sake, but all he can do is muster a smile, ghosting a hand along your cheek, and say while you’re blissfully unaware,
“love you too, sweetheart.”
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ITOSHI RIN
lowkey annoyed over this because instead of soccer plaguing his mind 24/7, his thoughts are now overrun by you! so he ignores the feeling, thinking it will magically go away or something. but newsflash to rin: it’s not as simple as it looks, and he ends up learning that lesson the hard way.
he spends the next week evading you—declining invites to hang out, sending half-hearted text messages, and ingraining himself in his soccer practices. unfortunately for him, his performance actually gets worse because now all those feelings he’s been bottling up inside his fragile heart are about to burst.
even shidou has been scoring more than him and rin just can’t live that down, especially when the former asks if the reason he’s been doing so poorly is because he and his “little girlfriend” broke up. which isn’t even the case since you’ve both never crossed that bridge.
poor boy goes home one day conflicted over all of this, slouched on the edge of his bed with his hands ruffled in his hair. soon he gets a text from you, which he shouldn’t be surprised by, given how he’s been treating you lately.
but then you’re asking him if he’s okay and rin is utterly taken aback because he’s been acting like such an asshole, yet you’re the one that’s still worried about his well-being.
right then and there rin has a long moment of contemplation, breathing a sigh into his hand which clasps over his mouth. he replies back with a quick apology text before telling you to meet him after his practice tomorrow. the moment he hits send, he tosses his phone on the bed, not willing to wait for that hovering gray bubble to appear on the message window.
when tomorrow arrives and practice is over, his steps are dragging along the pavement outside the training facility. he’s honestly doubting if you’ll even show up, but those qualms are immediately dashed when he sees your figure a few distances away. you’re standing there with apprehension written on your features, which morph into worry as soon as you cross eyes with him.
rin can’t even get a word in or form a coherent thought because the moment you run up to him, you’re blabbering about how he didn’t have to apologize because he was probably working so hard on soccer, chasing his dreams and the like. then, you bring up how maybe you should continue distancing yourself in order to help him focus, and god, that flicks a switch in rin’s head because that is far from what he wants.
all of a sudden, he’s silencing you as he pulls you into his chest. you find yourself buried in his jersey, confused but not drifting away, and even return the embrace when you sense him shake against you.
“fuck, no. i don’t want that all…” his voice sounds like he’s about to break as he mutters those words into your hair. his arms tighten around your shoulders as if you’ll leave him at any moment. you assure him you won’t as you nuzzle closer into his chest.
“then i’m not going anywhere, rin.”
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NAGI SEISHIRO
the thought comes upon him when he’s alone in his apartment. it’s not immediate though.
the sunlight seeping through the curtains inevitably wakes him up one very late morning. and by very late, i mean this dozy boy definitely slept in that day, if he couldn’t already tell from his digital clock reading 11am.
even though nagi is always keen on getting plenty of shut-eye, he’s constantly kept on his toes when it comes to having a productive sleep schedule. partially due to soccer practices, but also because you sometimes visit him in the mornings. so normally, he’s woken by the ruckus you’re making while cooking him breakfast in the kitchen.
but this morning it’s… silent. which in hindsight, nagi should be happy about, right? he got to sleep in, after all, and he doesn’t have practice today. what more could he want?
once he shakes off the last remnants of sleep from his body, he finally musters the strength to get out of bed and maybe start his day with something to eat. which this morning is… leftovers. specifically the leftovers from the last time you made him food—a couple days ago.
regardless, he warms them up and sits down with a plate on the table. says his appreciations for the meal and digs in. when the first bite enters his mouth, it tastes the same as when he initially had it, but there’s an empty feeling in the bottom of his stomach he can’t quite pinpoint. he scarfs down a few more spoonfuls until he grows tired of eating, resting his head on the table.
his tummy is full, yet that emptiness persists—it’s been on the forefront of his mind for several days now and it’s starting to annoy him. he can’t determine why that is and what makes those days any different from before succumbing to that void in his heart.
after all, nothings changed.
just that… you went on an overseas trip. without him.
well, it’s not like he was ever going to be invited since you’re supposed to be vacationing with your girlfriends.
ah, wait. maybe he’s just lonely.
no, that can’t be it. he hung out with reo and some of the other blue lock boys the day after you left. even a slacker like him still makes time to see his friends. so what is he missing here?
the question lingers in nagi’s noggin as he drags his fork along the remaining food stuck on his plate. at some point, his phone’s ringing breaks him from his stupor, and he’s surprised to glance over and see your caller id on the screen.
he’s not sure what comes over him, but nagi swears he’s never hit the accept button so fast in his life. immediately, he brings the phone next to his ear, and is the first one on the line to utter “hello?”
“sei, you’re awake! i’m glad i got the time zones right!” you exclaim in your cheery tone that nagi has always been accustomed to hearing in the morning. “y’see i’ve stumbled on a gift shop the other day and found a few souvenirs i’d think you’d like!”
you ramble on and on about your adventures around the country you’re visiting and nagi finds himself absorbing your voice, hanging on every word, and even nodding next to the phone like you’re right here in front of him.
suddenly, his heart feels so full and everything clicks into place again. it’s like his day never actually started until you appeared with all your mirth and energy. even on opposite sides of the earth, you’re still the sun to his moon.
“angel,” he murmurs as you’re in the middle of talking, and you’re silent after acknowledging his call, waiting on his words.
“come home soon. i miss you.”
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ISAGI YOICHI
this boy is a mess! he’s the kind of guy who as soon as those feelings start blooming in his chest, he gets super flustered around you all the time. and it’s obvious too.
before, he was super nonchalant with you. treated you like a friend, flirted without even knowing because he’s just that comfortable around you, but when any of his friends or family mention how the two seem closer than you realize, he just freezes and his mind goes blank. erupts in an embarrassing fit of sputtering and denial, face searing red down to the nape of his neck. it’s so cute.
however, he’s not fooling anybody! anyone can tell by the windblown expression on his face—starstruck eyes admiring you as a warm grin overtakes his features—that he’s absolutely smitten by you. he just needs to admit it already.
well, his next outing with you (in which he swears wasn’t actually a date, but c’mon isagi), finally gets him to come to terms with his emotions as he reminisces spending the whole day just laughing his heart out and being so full of that warmth and happiness you give him that makes him feel completely weightless. almost like he can do anything. afterward, when he gets home, he rushes upstairs and literally flails in his bed with the most insane blush on his cheeks. like wow, he’s in love with you.
isagi yoichi is in love with you.
but love to isagi is like a double-edged sword, especially to someone who just escaped that blue lock hellhole and now has to devote even more of his life to his soccer career.
with that carefree sensation comes a new box of trepidations that he’s afraid to open.
what if there comes a time when he would have to choose between you or soccer? he’s hoping that won’t ever be the case. he’d hate to struggle juggling the two and end up breaking your heart.
god, never in a million years does he want that.
the best he can do is take steps to introduce this side of his life to you. he does so in extravagant fashion, by inviting you to come watch him play during his championship game.
to say you were a little startled by his offer was an understatement, but you take him up on it, and promise you’ll be there, especially since isagi went out of his way to get you the best seats in the stadium.
on the day of his match, he’s more nervous about performing well in front of you rather than winning. winning is instinct for him so he has no doubts he’ll claim victory and take home the championship cup. he’s just eager to show you a new isagi you’ve never seen before, rather than the tongue-tied, flustered puppy isagi that’s been vying for your attention lately.
coming onto the field, his eyes are too busy swerving in the direction of where you’re seated than focus on his opponents. the moment he distinguishes your figure at the very front of the stands—draped in a jersey that reads his name—countless butterflies begin fluttering in his stomach. it’s a feeling that he can never truly convey into words.
all he does is let an elated grin spread wide on his lips, cheeks swathed in such a dainty shade of rose that has his teammates swatting the back of his head to remind him he has a very important game to win.
and oh does isagi win. during the match he scores four goals in quick succession, absolutely annihilating the other team to the point where it’s downright embarrassing for the opposing side. the commentators are completely baffled, questioning what has the player so stoked. little do they realize that each of those goals were all made in your name and isagi can’t wait to let you know that later with his championship cup in hand.
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ITOSHI SAE
sae is pretty accepting of this revelation. nothing really fazes him after all, and he recognizes that it was only a matter of time before he came to terms with the idea that he might be head over heels for you.
in fact, he takes those feelings in stride.
as if sae wasn’t already a gentleman before this, his mannerisms around you only intensify. he’s constantly holding the door open for you, pulling out your chair, giving you his jacket whenever you’re cold, and so on. you never have to lift a finger when you’re with him. it’s to the point where he’s even sweeping stray hairs off your face and tucking them behind your ear before you’re given a chance to realize they were bothering you in the first place. not a day goes by where he doesn’t place you on a pedestal and worship you in the best ways he knows how.
he’s also gotten very touchy and a tiny bit possessive (okay maybe more than a tiny bit). sae isn’t the type to initiate pda regularly, but whenever he feels threatened in any way—which is very rare but not impossible—he always has a hand on you. whether it’s on your lower back as he ushers you closer to him, or intertwining your fingers together before sending a cold, piercing glare over his shoulder at the offending party, he always makes his intentions with you known even if you yourself are oblivious of them.
it’s not like he’s controlling or obsessive either. he simply wants to make you feel special. to be frank, he’s setting such a high standard that no other man can compare to him.
on more than one occasion, he’s had to travel overseas for international business, and the first time he left the country for an extended period without you, he grew incredibly homesick. not because he particularly misses the normalcy of his life back in japan, but because it always feels a little empty, and frankly, boring without you by his side. he’s grown to appreciate the moments he shares with you, from the time he wakes up beside you to when he falls asleep while you’re in his arms.
after that, whenever he has to fly out of the country, he insists you tag along with him, and goes out of his way to pay for all your expenses—plane ticket, lodgings, everything. most of the time, you try turning down his offer, stating you don’t want to be a hindrance while he’s working. yet sae counters by saying it’ll be more trouble for him if you weren’t there with him than not, and who are you to object when he’s staring at you with such unwavering ocean eyes, looking as if you’re the whole world to him.
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KUNIGAMI RENSUKE
deep down, kunigami has always held you closely in his heart, regardless if he’s aware of the love he possesses behind it.
it’s natural for him to want to protect the people he cherishes, but with you, you activate something so visceral inside him. it scares him sometimes, how you can make his whole body rattle, blood pumping erratically to the point where all he can hear is the ringing in his ears and his heart thumping wildly out of his chest.
that’s especially the case when he receives a late night call from you while he’s settling himself at his apartment. he’s slightly surprised by the random call. you don’t normally reach out for him at this time since you’re either going to sleep or hanging out with friends in the dormant hours of the night.
accepting the call, he brings the phone to his ear.
“hello? y/n?”
“r-ren? u-um, can you please stay on the phone with me..?” you whisper in the receiver, tone quivering to a frightening degree. he hears the anxiety laced in your voice and suddenly sirens go off in his head.
“where are you?” he questions sternly as he instantly stands from his seat, reaching for his car keys.
“i just left a club and was going to walk to the station, but… s-someone’s–”
kunigami doesn’t need to hear anymore to understand the full picture that makes his bones quake for your safety as he dashes out the door.
“i’m coming to get you, so send me your location. until then, stay in an open area and don’t stop talking to me, okay?”
you affirm quietly before moving your phone from your ear to pin your location to him with trembling fingers. as you’re doing so, kunigami’s already started the ignition to his car, revving on the roads with little care of the law. he’s never driven this fast in his life, swearing he’s a defensive driver, but that means nothing to him when your safety is on the line right now.
if he grips his steering wheel any harder, it might just break off from his bare strength alone. a single glance at the map on his dash tells him he’s less than a minute away from your position. in the last stretch, he can finally spot your frightened silhouette under the dimly lit lamps.
as soon as you recognize the model of his vehicle, relief washes over your tense shoulders. you take it as your chance to escape your precarious situation, but the shady man a few meters away decides to attempt a last minute assault, dashing in your direction.
when the fiery-haired athlete sees this, his restraint all but snaps. he gets out of his car without even slamming his door shut and spontaneously reaches for you, pulling you behind his intimidating, brawny frame before punching the man square in the jaw. the assailant tumbles onto the hard ground, completely knocked out.
kunigami’s attention immediately turns to you, putting all his efforts into your well-being as he yanks you in his protective embrace. the adrenaline from both your bodies wears off and the striker can sense you bursting into tears against his chest.
“ren, i’m so sorry, i was out with friends and i thought it would okay for me to stay out later even though they wanted to leave, and-and–” your words collide with your jumbled thoughts, but the last thing kunigami wants is for you to apologize for this scumbag’s actions.
“shh, princess. it’s not your fault,” he whispers next to your ear, “fuck! if anything happened to you… i… i…” his voice breaks apart. his hold on you tightens just imagining if he was even a second late coming to your side. for now, he’s thankful to have you back safe and sound, tucking you closer to his heart.
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MIKAGE REO
when reo considers that what he was feeling might no longer be a crush, but rather actual love for you, he’s a bit doubtful. mostly because he’s approached countless girls with romantic intentions in mind, however, to his disappointment, he’ll discover that they’re mainly interested in his status instead of him as a person. his good looks and charisma are just a plus for them. therefore he’s very hesitant to fully act on these emotions, afraid to have his heart broken again.
however, he slowly starts accepting the notion that he might be wrong about you. it shows in the way you’re always asking about his life outside of him being an heir to a billion-dollar corporation. he’s stunned by how your features can glow with such intrigue whenever he speaks about his time in blue lock, leading to his journey to becoming a star player in the land of professional football. most girls he entertained would fake interest in this before quickly changing the subject.
eventually, they’ll throw themselves on him to garner his favor and try gaining access to his parents’ wealth. however, you seek greater value in sharing the same experiences with him. you take him out to watch movies, hangout at the most unique cafes, and have the time of your lives at amusement parks.
reo’s used to his dates borderline demanding him to drive them out for extensive shopping sprees or book them dinners to the most high-end restaurants in the city. it becomes exhausting when all his partner sees in him is a personal wallet for them to call on whenever they’re eyeing the newest luxury trends displayed on shop windows.
so to have a person like you by his side, who doesn’t determine his value on such materialistic facets is… refreshing… but also just as frightening because he’s afraid of losing such a precious person like you.
though it may be counterintuitive, reo means to return your kindness by spoiling you, thinking you’re someone who genuinely deserves to be dolled up and treated like royalty.
the first time reo swipes his card on a hefty purchase for you, you’re a little bit overwhelmed, going on to say he didn’t have to do all this. but the man is difficult to argue around, what with his suave words and charismatic demeanor that makes it hard for you to say no to the jewels and dresses he wants to adorn on your body.
then as if he couldn’t have pampered you anymore, he also brings up the offer for you move into his penthouse so you don’t have to worry about rent while making ends meet. of course, you bring up the case that you don’t want to rely on him for money—that you simply enjoy being with him—but reo counters with similar reasoning.
“c’mon doll, just let me do this for you,” he insists. “you’ve done so much for me already, and i just want to make sure you know how special you are to me.”
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copyright 2023 shotoh, all rights reserved. i do not allow my creations to be published or translated anywhere else so please do not repost this or share my content on tiktok.
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cheapshrimpysheep · 5 months
Text
You Will Stop the Wedding! - Vil Schoenheit
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SUMMARY: YOU were the one being kidnapped by Princess Eliza to marry her. How would he react and how would he save you? With the aggravation of he already having a crush on you.
CHARACTERS: Vil Schoenheit x Reader
TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader; Declaration
WORD COUNT: 1.155 words
Riddle Rosehearts / Leona Kingscholar / Azul Ashengrotto / Jamil Viper / Vil Schoenheit / Idia Shroud / Malleus Draconia
Rescuing You - Deuce Spade; Jack Howl; Floyd Leech; Kalim Al-Asim
COMMENTS: What have I done? Why did I commit to writing this? And why did I write so much? Why was I so inspired? There were seven of them! Why do I do this to myself? So yeah, this took me a long time. But I hope it was worth it, for me and for you.
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CONTEXT: Someone was kidnapped to marry some ghost princess and might end up turning into a ghost too. And he just found out that someone was you.
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Vil wondered who in the entire school would be chosen as the princess's partner instead of someone like him. With someone like him at school, who the heck did they kidnap if they were looking for the perfect person for the princess?
And then he hears your name, and his eyes widen. On the one hand, he now understands. After all, if he himself fell in love with you, who wouldn't? But on the other hand, his pride was still a little hurt. But more importantly, he needed to save you!
When rescue groups are formed, he asks to be in the last one. He knows he will be the best choice for this operation because he is an actor, but to create the perfect “romantic interest”, after all, your life was at risk, he first needed to understand what the princess's “character” was like.
When it's the last group's turn, whenever someone needs to stay behind to tie up the ghosts, Vil tells one of the others to do it. He always displays such confidence and leadership that the others simply followed his orders and stayed behind. One of the boys in the group was Rook, so it was clear that he would follow Vil's orders. Vil ends up being the only one to arrive at the ceremony hall.
Following the plan and after studying the princess's "character", Vil gets into character even before opening the door. He opens the door with a bang and orders them to stop the wedding. And in the first few sentences you already got an uncanny shiver.
“STOP THE WEDDING! Princess! I cannot bear this! My heart cannot bear to see you marrying someone else. Please, my wonderful princess, I beg you to at least give me a chance to prove myself to be a good partner to you!” And he was even being so dramatic talking.
But you couldn't deny that he was an excellent actor. Anyone who doesn't know him, the princess for example, would never realize he was acting. But you knew him, and so you had to try hard not to laugh at how strange that was. He was acting so well it looked like he was possessed. And worse, he was playing... ROOK?
You were controlling yourself not to laugh, but some of the students petrified by the princess's slap weren't. And they burst into laughter, especially Leona and Floyd. “Pay these poor rejects no attention, my sweet princess.” Vil continued “They are merely jealous of whoever is worthy of standing next to you at the altar.” He was even imitating some of Rook's gestures, which only made the others laugh even more.
Vil did everything the princess asked of him. He sang with her, answered her questions with the answers he thought she wanted to hear and which from her reaction seemed right. But it seemed like she was never satisfied. Why did it never end? What was going wrong? And it was then that she said that Vil would definitely be a wonderful prince, but she had already chosen you.
“WHAT?! You can not be serious.” Now, the Vil you knew was back, and he was pissed. “I do all this, I answer all these nonsense questions, I try to act in a way that pleases you and it's all for nothing?!” Even the princess was scared by his change in behaviour. And the guards placed themselves in defensive positions. The princess asks what happened to him, what was going on?
“I tell you what is going on. I'm here doing my best to convince a delusional princess to accept me as her husband so I can save the real person I care about and yet I'm rejected after having so much patience with a spoiled girl.” The princess is horrified to know that it was all just an act, she had really believed it, she even starts to cry. And of course, the guards threaten Vil. “Cry all you want, it doesn't bother me, I came here to save (Y/N) and that's what I'm going to do. One way or another.”
And then, a fight between the ghosts and Vil begins. Which he could have almost won if it weren't for that guard who turned into a giant ghost. He suggested that the princess give Vil the slap to petrify him, but she did nothing for a moment. Afterwards, she said that what Vil did was the most evil thing anyone had ever done to her. Playing with someone's feelings like that.
“I know it's one of the ugliest things I've ever done. But I wasn't just playing. I was trying to save the person you kidnapped.” She asks if he can act so well, how would you know if what he says he feels for you is real? He looks at you, confidently, with a loving look and his soft smile. “They know.” He may be an excellent actor, but you know he’s not a liar.
And, out of nowhere, the princess started to feel sorry for herself and jealous of you. She also wanted someone to do all that for her. Pretending to be someone else just to save you, even if it meant being away from you forever. (In the Vils head he was like: Actually I was going to put a ring on your finger to send you alone to the afterlife, but of course, think whatever you want.) And this was the opportunity that the guard who was in love with her found to declare himself. He said he wasn't that good of an actor, but that if he had to, he would do his best. And that whole ending of the princess realizing that she loved him too happens, they get married and happily ever after.
After everything and while the first-years were getting ready to tidy up and clean the cafeteria, you asked Vil to wait a bit. You leave the room so you can talk alone. He looks at you from top to bottom and started fixing your clothes and hair.
“One thing I must admit, those ghosts had some fashion sense.” When he finishes he takes a step back and looks at you. He smiles. “You sure are beautiful.” You throw yourself at him to hug him. “*Sigh* I just fixed your clothes.” but he still hugged you back. “I should teach you some self-defence techniques. It seems like you are becoming too with my help.” Just in case, you ask him if he is really flirting with you at that moment. “Firstly, you don't seem too bothered by it so I assume I'm allowed to do it. And secondly, I'm not Rook. Do you really think I would praise anyone else like this, sweet potato?”
Vil highly values his face. For this reason, you are probably the only person he would let kiss him, both on the cheeks and lips.
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If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX
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yesimwriting · 5 months
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Heyy ya!! Hwo you doing? I wanted to ask maybe you can write Coriolanus x reader when he gets to district after just finishing training for pacekeepers, or maybe where his tribute just arrived to the capitol and the reader maybe says the “what does my mentor do besides bring me roses?” Line? ❤️
A/n the turn around for this was so fast for me 😭 i got excited
hi!! i love these prompts and am so glad for the excuse to write something for him 😭,, also i didn't blatantly make the reader the district 12 tribute bc i didn't want to necessarily cute lucy gray out all together, but it's clear that she's from a poorer district and that being assigned to mentor her is an insult to the Snow name,, also reader pulls a katniss and volunteers for a younger family member bc the irony of that scratches an inch in my brain
Summary: After the very public slight of being assigned to mentor a female tribute from a lower district, all Snow can think about is the uphill battle that winning the Plinth prize will now be. Until, he realizes, that he's been given the first ever district volunteer who seems to have a quality that makes people care about her.
Warnings: my first time writing for a specific character, Coriolanus's internal thoughts are a little softer than they should be at some points but i love the accidental and deeply impractical crush trope so
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Of Angels
The desperation masquerading as fierceness behind her eyes is undeniable. Coriolanus feels the way your panic, your shock as the weight of your own words dawn on you in his chest. He swallows, forcing down the feeling.
Take me--take me instead! The phrase is repeated again and again, shaky and pleading.
Something about the display, about the 12-year-old girl that desperately tries to cling to you as peace keepers push you forward, makes it hard to watch. Even worse, it makes it impossible to look away.
The first ever district volunteer. A suicide mission or a--a desperate call for attention? A decision made out of hysteria that you're already starting to regret?
He can't decide as the footage of you being ushered onto stage is played. Surely, Dr. Gaul and other Capitol officials won't find this acceptable. The concept of volunteering has always been reserved for the careers, the districts that produce well fed children that train for this. It's a way to allow them to pick their best, their strongest. It is not a way for someone to lay down their life for someone else.
"Are you saying you volunteer?"
You blink, eyes wild and bright as you openly survey the crowd. Coriolanus briefly thinks that you might attempt to take what he doubts is an actual out. You seem to be considering something before finally nodding once. The motion so stiff it makes you look smaller, like the girl whose name was originally called.
"Yes," you mumble. The softness of it is a personal accost. Your choice was made in panic, but that isn't who you are. You're not much of a performer or a fighter or even bold...you're not much of a chance at the Plinth Prize. "I-I volunteer."
----
In the end, he had come because of Tigris. She had insisted that there was a way to see his tribute as more than just another face from the districts, as more human than animal.
She loves that little girl enough to die in her place. If I was her, I'd want someone to tell me that my choice meant something. I'd want someone to show that they care about me.
The words had felt dismissible at first, but the more he thought about them, the more it made sense. Panem had seen the entire thing, had seen the way that his tribute continued to comfort the younger girl even after sentencing herself to death. There's a story worthy of a show in that.
If he can convince you to go on camera, to speak of the girl, of the choice...maybe he'd have a chance at his future. And if the public support manages to help you in some way or another, that'd only be an additional benefit. You love that girl enough to die for her, maybe that means you love her enough to fight tooth and nail to live for her as well.
The train that stops at each district pulls to a stop. The doors open, releasing the sound of tributes that are learning the consequences of attempting to cause issues for the peacekeepers.
A boy he vaguely recognizes steps out, and then a younger girl. Are you one of the tributes already risking their lives in an attempt to aggravate peacekeepers? Or maybe you're cowering at the back of the train, clinging onto the safety of a familiar space.
You prove to be neither. You emerge from the train, perfectly in tact and stable.
Coriolanus parts his lips, yet no words manage to come out. You're different in person, the white you're dressed in is objectively dirtier than it was when you were reaped and yet somehow, here in the dim, gray station it feels brighter. A stray beam of sunlight breaking through a cluster of clouds. A promise that the storm will end soon and that the angels have yet to abandon the earth.
Your dress is a simple thing, loose enough to be a hand-me-down or maybe even borrowed, the lace of the skirt falling farther down your knees than it should. That paired with the ribbon scraps tied to each side of your head make you look younger and cruelly innocent.
"Hello." The blandness of his own beginning forces a burning sort of regret to take over his chest. You attentively turn, expression kind and expecting. It only makes the embarrassment he doesn't fully understand scorch him from the inside out with more violence. He's once again struck with the desire to look away and finding himself incapable of doing so. "My name is Coriolanus Snow, and I'm your mentor."
You nod, features hardening. You've pieced it all together--his appearance, what he's saying, and where you are. He's revealed himself as part of the Capitol and now you can no longer watch him with kind, accepting eyes. The look you're giving him is almost enough to make him wish he could have presented this differently.
Coriolanus extends an arm, the carefully chosen pure white rose an olive branch. You blink, eyebrows drawing together before you slowly reach out and take the flower by its stem. Your fingertips brush against his own, the warmth of your skin is so shocking he has to remind himself not to flinch.
"A mentor?" You repeat the word like your only reason for doing so is to try out the foreign word on your tongue. "Does everyone get one or am I just lucky?" You look down at the rose you're now holding. "Or has the rumor that I'm a rebellion trick spread to the Capitol?"
The last question genuinely surprises him. It shouldn't, there had been some talk about why anyone from a poor district would ever choose to go into the games. The way you and the girl you saved reacted to each other could have been staged...but Coriolanus didn't think it was enough to warrant genuine rumors. Anyone that had looked at your eyes and seen the fear in them would have known that it was sacrifice. Is sacrifice. That girl means the world to you.
"No," he starts slowly, "No, everyone gets one and no one here has any preconceptions about you."
You raise your eyebrows, making it clear that you don't believe him. No preconceptions had been a strong way to phrase things, but the urge to assure you had taken over with no warning. You then look away, glancing around to take in your surroundings.
"Then why isn't there..." You trail off, your gaze landing firmly on him. "You're not supposed to be here."
He blinks. For the first time, it feels like you're truly looking at him. His own susceptibility to your wide eyes turns his stomach. You're the one that should feel like something up for display under his stare. "No, I'm not."
The admission forces the edge of your lips to pull upwards. "Alright," you hum, "So what does my mentor do for me besides bring me roses?"
"I do my best to take care of you."
For a second, all you do is stare. He's surprised you. The realization brings him more relief than it should. "The girl who you volunteered for..."
You tilt your head downwards, hiding your expression as your fingers carefully toy with the exterior of the soft petals. "My cousin," the explanation is low, cautious, "But we uh--we're more like sisters."
An in that he doesn't even have to work for. "I understand that." You look up, not bothering to hide your confusion. Maybe you weren't expecting something so human to come out. Maybe human works for you. "During the war, we took care of each other...and then after our parents passed, we were left in the care of our grandmother."
The silence that follows is tight, straining against the sympathies you're not willing to extend to someone like him. Your lips part, and Coriolanus is disgusted by the part of him that's curious about what's going to come next.
You're pushed back with no warning. His attention snaps towards the peacekeeper who is shoving against your shoulder with more force than necessary.
"Excuse--" No reaction, no response as another peacekeeper grabs your arm. "Excuse me, I'm her--" You're being dragged away in order to be packed into another vehicle of transportation with the rest of them.
Coriolanus stays near, doing his best to never lose sight of you in the chaos. A tribute breaks free from the hold of the peacekeepers and launches his body forward. An ill thought out escape attempt. The distraction is all Coriolanus needs. This is his chance to go after you, to cement a connection that will guarantee cooperation.
It's not the distraction that gets him to move or even thoughts of the Plinth prize, it's the final flash of angel white fabric as its forced back into darkness. He rushes forward before he can overthink, entering the vehicle just as the doors shut.
----
i think i might make a part 2!!
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fellthemarvelous · 2 months
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Do you ever really think about what happened in The Resurrectionists?
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Aziraphale spent that entire time trying to save Elspeth's soul from being damned to Hell.
Every questionable choice he made was done so because he was trying to help Elspeth and also trying to find new ways to decrease human suffering.
He was working really fucking hard to do his job, but he made mistakes along the way because he is constantly struggling with the knowledge that the rules become a lot more convoluted as life becomes more complicated.
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Digging up bodies is wrong, but Elspeth was poor and acting in desperation to take care of herself and Wee Morag so they wouldn't have to continue living on the streets.
He is the one who encouraged her to dig up another body because he realized that Mister Dalrymple was trying to help teach those learning to become doctors so they could do better to decrease human suffering when it was their turn to help others.
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He wasn't able to save Wee Morag after she was shot by a grave gun, and watched in dismay as Elspeth sold her body to Mister Dalrymple so she could get off the streets.
And when that didn't work the way she'd hoped, she decided that her life meant nothing anymore and decided she was better off dead.
Aziraphale had been spending that entire minisode trying to save Elspeth's soul from Hell, but he ultimately realizes that he made things worse even though he was trying so hard to do the right thing.
Heaven didn't care that he failed. Heaven has already said "we're the good guys, we're just not doing anything to stop the bad guys". Aziraphale was doing the job given to him by God. He made a mistake, but he thought he was doing the right thing because he cares about human souls. He still wants to protect humanity from Hell. That's literally his job.
Crowley saw someone digging up a body in the graveyard and immediately realized he didn't need to do anything.
Instead he watches.
He listens to Elspeth and finds it easier to sympathize with her plight because he's in the same boat in many ways. It doesn't matter what he does because he won't be able to climb his way out of Hell.
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He listens to Aziraphale and he challenges the angel when he disagrees with some of the things he's saying.
He doesn't interfere with Elspeth or Aziraphale though.
The discussion that he and Aziraphale have with Mister Dalrymple teaches Crowley something just as much as it teaches Aziraphale.
Before he learns the reason that Mister Dalrymple cuts open dead bodies in the first place, he's cheering to the idea of more murder.
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That tumor that Aziraphale hugs to his chest is just as much of a learning moment for Crowley. He hadn't considered why someone might have a good reason to cut up dead bodies, but Crowley and Aziraphale both love children and they both just learned that a child died with a tumor inside of him.
Crowley didn't realize anymore than Aziraphale did just how much danger Wee Morag and Elspeth were in from digging up bodies of rich people.
It was when Crowley saw that Elspeth was about to kill herself that he realized he could no longer sit back and do nothing.
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As a demon, it should have been easier for Crowley to accept that Hell was winning another soul, but the truth is that the entire time Aziraphale was working so hard to save Elspeth's soul, Crowley was able to act as a spectator because she was already headed down the path towards Hell.
Crowley had just watched Aziraphale work so hard to save this human soul, this soul who had just lost the woman she loved who was wanting to end her own life so she could see Wee Morag again, and he realized he couldn't sit back and watch anymore. He knew Elspeth wouldn't see Wee Morag again if she killed herself because Hell cares just as little about how complicated human life is as Heaven does.
He used Aziraphale's money to bribe Elspeth into being properly good so she could go to Heaven. He saved her knowing that he was offering the win to Heaven just so she could see Wee Morag again.
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It's important to remember that neither Heaven nor Hell give a single solitary fuck about humanity or the complications that arise as life becomes more problematic. Humanity exists within all shades of grey.
Heaven does nothing to stop Hell. Hell spends eternity torturing humans and other demons. Neither side is good. Neither side is ideal.
And in the end, Crowley did what he did because Aziraphale was doing the right thing by trying to save Elspeth's soul from eternal torment, something she doesn't deserve because she was simply trying to survive in a system that has always put poor people at a disadvantage. Aziraphale learned this too. He learned that there is no inherent virtue behind poverty.
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To shades of grey.
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armxnh · 5 months
Text
if that ain't love then i don't know what love is
synopsis: he says i love you for the first time.
characters: shuji hanma, keisuke baji, manjiro 'mikey' sano
genre: fluff
warnings: none (i think...?)
masterlist.
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shuji hanma
shuji hanma loved everything about you.
the way you looked, the color of your eyes, your hair- how you do your hair, the little dance you made before eating your favourite food, the smile you had when he bought you flowers just because he felt like it, your kindness- he just loved all of you.
but one thing he loved more than anything about you... was the way you looked when you were mad at him.
there was just something about the way your pretty face would turn into a scowled, your brows frowning and lets not forget the intimidating look you were sending him.
you looked like an angry kitten.
"you can't just climb up my window every time you get in trouble hanma-"
"shuji" he corrected you with a smile on his face as he ate the snack you gave him a couple of minutes earlier.
"-shuji! my experience in treating injuries has its limits" you were walking around your room rambling about how careless he was being, completely unaware of the fact that he was enjoying this, "you can't show up every night- what if my neighbours saw you- worse what if my parents saw you!"
"they won't see me-"
"maybe i should start locking my windows-"
"don't lie to yourself, princess... you won't lock me out-"
"you're right-! god you are so frustrating!" you groaned rubbing your temples, "but i am serious about walking in my room half dead- never do that again. i may want to lock you out but it doesn't mean that i want you dead- you're a person of nice company and i don't want you to die-"
shuji stayed quiet as you kept lecturing him on how careless he was... he let his eyes drifted from your face to your body... and most specifically what you were wearing.
you wore one of his shirt with your christmas pyjama pants- even if there was 7 months left before christmas- but the last time he questioned your choice in clothes he received the flowers he had bought you on the head so he kept his opinion to himself.
out of sudden, hanma stood up from your desk chair, walking up to you with a cocky smile on his face. "shuji? what are you-"
he grabbed the back of your neck, smashing his lips into yours. you stumbled back but quickly melted into the kiss, your lips moving in sync like they had done many times before, with his 'sin' hand secured behind your head while his 'punishment' hand was on your hip.
"god- i love you so much." he muttered when he pulled away before moving your face towards his again so he could press his lips into yours in a chaste kiss.
your face was warm and your lips swollen when you finally looked in the lovestruck eyes of your boyfriend.
i love you so much
"i love y-"
"i didn't say it because i wanted you to say it back, princes..." shuji placed his hands on your cheeks pressing one last kiss on your forehead, "i just needed you to know that i love you."
you looked up to your boyfriend with heart in your eyes, completely forgetting why you were arguing about. you softly smile at him before tilting your head up to press a kiss on his jaw.
"i love you too, idiot"
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keisuke baji
keisuke never felt more stressed out in his life.
he just couldn't mess this up.
he had run every possible scenarios in his head- he was ready-
"hey, kei'! i was looking everywhere for you-"
never mind- aboard mission aboard mission!
"h-hey, (y/n)!" his voice cracked, "y-you were?"
you smiled wrapping your arms around his arm, pressing a kiss on his red cheek, "yeah, i thought we could eat lunch together, is that alright?"
as you walked down the empty hall, you realized that your boyfriend was being fidgety, looking round, not really paying attention to what you were saying, "is everything alright, keisuke?"
your question made the delinquent stop walking, he was clutching a bag with his right hand, hesitating to look at you in the eyes, "(y/n)... i-.."
"are you breaking up with me?"
his eyes snapped to meet yours, his free hand immediately grabbing your hand, "no! never! i swear- it's just that... i have- i need.."
"i'm playing with you... don't worry" you laughed at his expression, "how about you tell me what's going on in that pretty head of yours?"
pretty... she thinks i'm pretty...
keisuke hurriedly grabbed what was in the bag, pulling out a heart shape box of chocolate with a hand made card. he gave both of the gifts to you, immediately looking away once you realized what he had given you.
"is it our anniversary?!" you panicked, "i'm such a bad girlfriend- i forgot our own anniversary- oh god!"
"what no!" baji explained, "i just thought that you might like it so... just read the letter already."
you opened the letter your boyfriend freezing when you realized what he had gifted you, "y-you wrote me a love letter?"
keisuke rubbed the back of his neck, clearing his throat, "yeah... chifuyu helped me with the words and stuff so sorry if there's some mistakes or- why are you crying?!"
you threw yourself in his arms, "i have the best boyfriend in the world- thank you so much, keisuke!"
the said man automatically wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him, inhaling your scent, "i- i love you a lot, (y/n)"
"i love you too, kei'"
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manjiro 'mikey' sano
it was one of those rare days where manjiro woke up of a nap before you. he tilted his head to the side trying to ignore the warm light streaming through the window in your room.
he blinked his eyes a couple of times, adjusting to the light, slowly registering that something was wrong.
that's when he realized that your back was facing him. he wasn't cuddled in your arms like how he remembered you two falling asleep.
he frowned, his eyes glaring daggers in the back of your sleeping self. he had never glared at you before- he never needed to. you were his light in the dark world he lived in.
but how could you do this to him? mikey tried to remember what he did wrong... did he kicked you in his sleep? did he accidentally bit you like he did that one time? (the time where he dreamt he was in a pool full of dorayaki).
a good 30 minutes later, you started to drift back to life, not yet aware of the state your boyfriend was in. you turned around, expecting to see a peacefully sleeping mikey, only to find him narrowing his eyes at you.
you were now fully awake, a smile spreading on your face at your boyfriend's morning self... even if he tried to look serious while looking at you, his morning hair betrayed him, "good morning-"
"are you mad at me?" what a good way to start the day...
you frowned at his words, "no, why? did you do something you shouldn't have?" then you remembered a nightmare he talked to you about not long ago, "did you have that dream where i ate all of your snacks? because i didn't-"
"what no-!" manjiro frowned with a pained expression on his face, "don't you like me anymore? is that why you turned your back on me?"
you suppress a chuckle that threatened to come out, "aw i'm sorry, 'jiro... i must've turned in my sleep... i won't do it again, i promise!"
he suddenly put both of. his hands on either side of your face, bringing you closer to him, "i love you a lot, alright? i need your face to be the first thing i see when i wake up- so don't turn away from me again- ever."
i love you a lot
those words kept repeating themselves in your head like a mantra.
"(y/n)? are you still with me?" manjiro asked you, bringing his face even closer to yours so that your nose were touching.
"you love me?" your face slowly growing hotter and hotter after every passing seconds.
"um? of course i do- didn't i made it clear when i shared food with you last week?"
you tilted your head to the side pressing your lips against his, making him hummed in content. "i love you, manjiro..." you mumbled when you pulled away for air.
"of course you do!"
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abbyromanoff · 6 months
Note
Can I request a top! Jane Banner x fem!reader, with angst,smut and fluff at the end, where, reader is a new police and Jane is her superior & she take a like in reader months later but try to hide it, making reader feel bad then you can do the rest as you want
HATE ME? OR LOVE ME?
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PAIRINGS: Jane Banner x reader
WORD COUNT: 3,220
WARNINGS: smut, love hate relationship, kinda enemies to lovers, angst, Jane hiding her feelings, cunnilingus, pet names, r getting stood up, making out, fingering, squirting, multiple orgasms, top!Jane, fluff, think that’s all :)
NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!
“That’s the problem, Y/N, you can never do anything right!” The words rang through your mind on repeat. Your superior was the one who spit them, letting her built-up anger rise to the point of overfilling, and you were the one to suffer. You knew she despised you, and if it was up to her, you wouldn’t have been hired in the first place. You didn’t mind, you were used to being disliked throughout your life and came to an acceptance of the fact. And it wasn’t because she was your boss that it affected you so much, it’s because you liked her in ways you shouldn’t like your higher supervisor.
She would watch your every move, each step haunting her mind. You expected it was so she could find an excuse to report you and see you go, but it was really because she just wanted to admire you any chance she had. You wouldn’t understand, which is why she kept quiet. It pained her to see you frown, but she couldn’t let herself get as close as she wanted to. So, instead of remaining neutral, she decided to take her frustration and fill your heart with the hurtful words she’d mutter.
People suggested you report her, but you didn’t want to. You’d rather take the glares than see her separated from you, or even worse, be forced to leave for good. You instead took to ridding yourself of the sleep you needed and thriving on the suffering you enforced, all while she painted your mind. You couldn’t even focus on the comments, only focusing on the beauty that expressed them. That’s what you hated most, that you couldn’t hate her.
“Ma’am, I’m sorry, but if your other person doesn’t arrive in the next five minutes, we’ll be forced to remove you. Unless you’d like to place your order, that is.” The waiter smiled apologetically, and you guessed he had dealt with this before, a guest being stood up and holding hopes they’d arrive. You were ready to give up and leave with a small apology for wasting their time, that was until you noticed a woman stepping forward.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Jane looked in your direction, her eyes widening at your low-cut dress. You looked so beautiful, just like you always did.
“Y/N, nice to see you here.” You rolled your eyes with a groan, handing the menu to the waiter before standing. She furrowed her brows slightly, nodding the man off as you tried to walk past her, only for her arm to grasp your shoulder in an attempt for you to stay.
“Woah, relax now,” She started. “Where do you think you’re going?” You took a deep breath before turning, eyeing the woman with a clenched jaw.
“Home. Why, you going to follow me there too?” She chuckled, releasing her grip when she realized she didn’t have to force you to stay.
“I just might.” There was a short beat of silence before you blew a breath, getting ready to leave before she repeated her actions.
“Alright, what do you want? I’m off work hours, you can’t keep me.”
“Gosh, don’t be such a fucking bore. You got stood up, so I was trying to do the right thing and ask you if you’d like to join me instead.” You didn’t believe her, there was no chance she had good intentions when it came to you. She hated you, why would she ever want to change that?
“What, so you can make up a lie that you need to pee so I’ll end up being stuck paying the bill?” She remained relaxed, refusing to feed into your annoyance and letting you get a reaction. She got hers already, now you were just dying to get some sort of revenge.
“Look, I know we don’t get along all the time-“
“We never do. Maybe if you weren’t such a fucking dick, I’d actually be willing to strike up a conversation with you.” You stated calmly, and she tightened her grip at your interruption. No one interrupts her, especially when you’re beneath her. But, she let it go past her, maintaining a tense smile as she pointed to her seat. There were only two chairs, either she was on a date or was eating alone. And with her lack of empathy, you guessed it was the latter.
“Well, maybe this is me trying to redeem myself. C’mon, you know we both have nothing better to do. I’m waiting for my mother to arrive, and you’re going home alone.”
“How do you know I’m going home alone? Maybe I’m going home to my wife and kids, maybe I’m going home to my family, maybe I’m going home to my cat-“
“Alright, I get it. If you really have places to go then you wouldn’t have been waiting for your date to show up for half an hour. But, if you really don’t want to, then you can leave.” You debated between your options, dinner with a woman who hated you, or going home to imagine being with the same woman. She’d hold you tight on the couch, kiss your forehead while your legs laid across hers. Her soft giggles showing her whitened pearls. Then she’d kiss you goodnight as she tucked you into bed, joining you soon after and returning her arms to their righteous spot around you.
You blinked twice, trying to register that you were in fact forced to live in the present time when all you wanted was to experience the daydreams you escaped through.
“Fine, I’ll stay. But don’t think I wanted this.” She smirked, letting you sit before pushing your chair in. You saw your previous table being occupied by a happy couple and smiled sadly, wishing you were taking their current places. You didn’t care for the view the seat had, but the one they each held was better than anything.
“Can we get the Le Medoc De Cos wine for the table, please?” You failed to understand how she didn’t miss a single beat, she must be a regular.
“Of course, ma’am, is there anything else I can start the two of you with?” He turned his gaze to you respectfully, and you grinned warmly.
“Uh, I’ll just have a glass of water, please.” He nodded and returned to the back where you assumed he was preparing the carefulness of the wine.
“You don’t order water at a restaurant like this, dumbass.” She scowled while her eyes remained on the menu, occasionally letting her eyebrows lift in a small excitement as she read the ingredients.
“Well, I think we both know I don’t have the funds for the wine you got.” It was true, you were only just starting a few months ago and were still considered young by most, it was nearly impossible for you to make the same as her.
“You’re not paying the bill, don’t worry about prices.” Your eyes widened as you looked at her dumbfounded. She lowered the paper and returned your gaze, making you evert your own slightly.
“We’re cutting this in half, I’m not letting you pay the bill and then use it against me for the rest of my life.”
“Oh my fucking God, will you relax with the assumptions? I’m not that big of a bitch, no matter how much you think I am.”
“I would calm yourself on the language, young lady.” Jane turned to see where the voice came from, only to sigh as her Mother came into view. She gave a tight-lipped smile and stood, giving the older woman a small hug and resting her hands on her arms.
“It’s great to see you, Mom.” She brushed her off, pulling out her chair as your boss was left stranded. She gulped, glancing towards you as you gave a small greeting to the guest. She took your hand with a small shake, something Jane rarely saw.
“Sorry for the intrusion, I’m your daughter's coworker and we happened to be dining in at the same place tonight.” She looked to her child for more description, and you feared you spoke wrong.
“Y/N here got stood up tonight and I thought I’d do the right thing and invite her to eat with us, I hope you don’t mind.” The reminder brought a roll to your eyes before you disguised it with a clearing of your throat, catching the attention of both.
“Oh, not at all! It’s lovely to meet you, dear.” The entire dinner went on with minimal chatting, you started to assume you were intruding on their special night. You grabbed your phone, excusing yourself to the bathroom with shaky hands. You refused to lift your gaze for the entire walk until you reached the door. When inside, you placed your hands on the marble countertop and sighed, letting the tension from the week release. Suddenly, you heard the door open with a small squeak and turned, only to see Jane looking back at you.
“Please don’t leave.” Confusion wrote itself across your face before you chuckled softly, shaking your head in disbelief.
“And why is that?” She licked her lips and bit them softly, knotting her arms together as they laid across her chest.
“I can’t stand that woman and I definitely don’t want to deal with her alone.” She admitted, but you didn’t understand her hatred for her mother. You picked up on the small comments throughout the dinner, but you guessed it was playful nature when she’d give a small laugh in response, only now did you realize they were most likely fake.
“And…I guess I enjoy having you there to, you know, ease the awkwardness.” You were planning on cutting the meal short for yourself, but you understood her request. Even if she was technically using you, you didn’t want her to suffer through something like this, you still cared for her.
“Fine, I’ll stay.” She seemed relieved by your response and rushed forward to greet you in a grateful hug, only to come to her senses moments later.
“Oh, right, uhm- sorry.” She gave you one last smile of appreciation before exiting, returning to her awaiting mother.
“Is everything alright?”
“Yeah, I was just checking in on them.” She took a bite of the food, instantly regretting the action as the heat filled her senses.
“You know, you two make a really cute couple.” Not only was it hot, but now Jane was nearly choking on the steak. She pressed her fist against her chest a few times before clearing her throat.
“Uh, we’re- we’re not dating, Mom.”
“Look, I know you don’t believe in love, and trust me, after your father, I thought I never would either. But, love comes random, you can’t choose who you fall for. Besides, I may be old but that doesn’t mean I can’t spot the sexual tension between you two.” The sudden outburst sent heat waves to your boss's cheeks.
“Mom! There is no sexual tension between us! They hate me, if anything, I’m a complete dickbag to them.”
“Because you don’t want to accept that your dream of being alone forever is fading into something new. So, please, do me a favor and stop being a baby.” She saw you stalking back out of the corner of her eye and grinned as she stood. Jane was still stuck in thought, her forehead creased together as she, once again, started to bite her lip.
“Well, I believe I should be leaving now. It was so lovely to meet you, dear, I know me and my daughter loved your company.”
“Awh, you’re leaving already?” You brought her in for a short hug while she nodded, turning to her daughter to say a short goodbye. You wondered why she didn’t do the same with her as she did with you, but you brushed it off.
“Alright, I’ll ask the waiter for a box, are you saving your food?” Her Mother was now out of the building and you could get rid of your facade. She shook her head as she came back to her senses, your voice filling her ears as they dinged in excitement.
“Why not get a dessert? I mean, we’re already here, no point in leaving yet.” You eyed her with suspicion and she only pestered on.
“Seriously, what the fuck is up with you? Why are you being nice all of a sudden?” Her mother's words rang in her head once again as she got a true, genuine look at you. She always thought you were a heaven-sent piece of artwork, but now you looked ever more angelic. She didn’t know how you did, but you did.
“I just want to get dessert, is that so bad?” You huffed out a breath and examined the menu, your mouth watering at the descriptions. When the waiter came over, he kindly took your requests along with the papers. There was a silence that roamed over the both of you, Jane found it comforting. She knew you probably didn’t feel the same, but being able to have a moment with her thoughts that filled of you was always her peace.
“Dove chocolate cheesecake for you, ma’am,” She smiled in appreciation and took the dish before he turned to you. “And the chef’s special Tiramisu for you, Miss.” You repeated Jane’s movements, leading him to stand over the table with his hands together in front of him.
“Would you or your wife like anything else before I hand over the bill?” You blanked for a moment, chuckling awkwardly to yourself as you glanced up at him.
“Oh, we’re not-”
“Yes, actually. Would we be able to have a refill of their water, please?” You turned to look at her now, tilting your head to the side as she acted oblivious. He nodded and returned shortly with your new glass and the bill. You examined the total with widened eyes.
“The lady with you paid for half already.” He stated before leaving the two of you.
“Why didn’t you correct him?”
“For what?”
“Don’t play dumb, for saying you’re my wife.” She shrugged with a mouthful of her food, leading you to eventually give up and bask in the flavors the dish greeted you with.
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The two of you were walking out of the restaurant, Jane holding the door open for you and leading you to your car. She hoped you parked as far as possible, just so she could get an extra few minutes with you. Her hand longed to interlace with yours, but she held back in fear.
“I hope you enjoyed tonight.” She spoke when you stopped in front of the vehicle she recognized as yours. You nodded with a thin line on your mouth before she said her goodbyes. She turned around with a sigh before stopping herself when she heard your voice.
“Yeah?” She saw you stalking forward, your head down until your body was mere inches from hers.
“I actually did enjoy tonight, thank you for inviting me.” She smiled gently when you lifted your head to glance at her, her impulses failing her as she placed her hands on your hips and drew you in. Her lips touched yours in a soft, searing manner as you sunk into it.
“W-what?” She gulped fearfully, pulling away as your hooded eyes searched hers.
“Fuck, I’m sorry, I-I didn’t mean to-” Her words were cut short as you pulled her back in, groaning as her body molded against yours. She placed her hands on your bottom, smiling gracefully as her tongue was granted entrance. She pushed you against the hood of the car, feeling your arms wrap around her neck while your thighs parted enough for her to place her knee between them. You instinctively grinded against the soft skin that greeted you, resulting in a muffled moan to escape.
“Wait-” She furrowed her eyebrows as she rested her forehead against yours, instantly following your request.
“I don’t want to do this here. Will you come home with me?”
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Her slender fingers drew in and out of you in a hurry, her hot breath fanning across your face as you mumbled out pleas. She found her gaze falling to the connection between you two, shuddering as your tight hole accepted a third digit. Your legs wrapped around her form, your chest heaving with every inhale. Your nipples hardened from the gush of wind before a gasp left you, Jane’s wet mouth finding it as her free hand led yours to the neglected breast. You toyed with the hard bud, fluttering your eyes shut as you bit your lip.
“No, let me hear you, baby.” She dreamed of hearing everything you released, she wasn’t going to let that be stripped away from her.
“Jane-” Her name wasn’t her favorite word, but hearing your soft whine made it a blessing to her eardrums. Her clit throbbed in delight, begging to meet yours.
“Yeah?” Her jaw was now resting on your shoulder, her lips right next to your ear as she left pecks down your neck. She hoped they’d leave a mark, just so everyone would know you belonged to her now. But, in reality, you always have.
“Need to cum- fuck! I need it so bad.” Your fingertips came to scratch at her scalp softly, your legs starting to shake the closer you got. Your coil tightened the more you held back, yet it begged to let go.
“I need you, Jane.” The stumbled sentence brought a stall to her movements. She only continued her thrusts when a whine bounced off the walls, the creator being the person beneath her.
“I know, I need you just as bad, darlin’.” She felt liquid spray against her crotch as you cried out, clawing at any part of skin you could grapple onto.
“Oh, God, ‘feels ‘o good!” Your babbles brought a dark chuckle to the woman. She thrived on the fact that she was the reason you were like this. You were no longer crying from her harsh words, you were crying from how good she made you feel.
“No, no, we’re not done just yet,” She informed when noticing you tried squeezing your legs shut.
“Don’t be embarrassed, love, I find it so fucking hot that you squirted for me, makes me so, so wet.” Your cheeks reddened, your eyes unable to meet hers when her finger came in contact with your chin. You hadn’t noticed her pulling out of you, the bliss of the moment being too heavy for your mind to keep track of your surroundings.
“Don’t you taste fucking heavenly?” She forced you to suck the sweet nectar coating her digits, chuckling as you gagged when they hit the back of your throat. You moaned around them, suckling every last drop.
“Spread ‘em, angel,” You whimpered, shaking your head in disagreement. “I said, spread ‘em, you can take another, you will.” You obeyed slowly, feeling her fingers instantly spreading your folds as her tongue came in contact with your sensitive bud.
“More, baby, I want you to struggle.” Her lips instantly wrapped around your clit, the sounds of your juices being evident as she sucked harshly.
“Fuck, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop.”
900 notes · View notes
andvys · 9 months
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I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss | part 2
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Warnings: angst, hurt/no comfort, heartbreak, break ups, jealousy, mentions of cheating, mean!Nancy, King!Steve, no upside down
Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!cheerleader!reader , Steve Harrington x Nancy Wheeler
Summary: After the breakup you try to go on with your life but it's harder than you thought, especially when you have to see him with her everyday.
Word count: 6.9k
Notes: The upside down doesn't exist here. All the older teens are 18 & 18+
series masterlist
prologue | part one
-
He drags himself through the streets of Hawkins. The wind is harsh and the thin jacket that you threw back at him after you had followed him down your driveway, does little to shield him from the cold autumn wind. The rain is falling and the darkened sky forecasts the storm that is heading to this town. The leaves are falling, stripping the trees from the colorfulness. 
A frown is stretched across his face, his shoulders are slumped, wet strands of hair are hanging in front of his eyes, he doesn’t bother to push them away, he doesn’t even bother to hurry and get home faster to shield himself from the rain and the storm that comes closer and closer. 
He didn’t drive to your place the way he usually would, today he walked. 
His heart is aching in an unfamiliar way, it’s something he had never felt before. He can’t identify this feeling, he doesn’t understand what it is. He just knows that he feels bad for what he did to you. He always felt bad about the way he treated you but he never changed, not for you. 
He rarely ever gave you good moments to remember, yet you only held onto those. You didn’t care about the way he was treating you. You didn’t care that he looked at other girls or even flirted with them. You didn’t care that he forgot dates or even ditched you to hang out with Tommy instead. You didn’t care that he only gave you weekends.
The flowers he gave you, the little presents here and there, the I love you’s, the kisses in the rain, the few soft moments were enough for you. You loved him, no matter what. You loved him on his good days and on his bad days. He can’t do the same for you. He can’t love you, not the way you love him. 
He walks back into his house, not caring about the rain that soaked through his clothes, making it cling to his skin uncomfortably. He feels awful, he felt that way all night after you walked away from him. It was the first Friday night without you and it felt.. wrong. You always stayed over on weekends, his bedroom felt empty and lonely without you. 
After kicking his wet shoes off and throwing the soaked jacket on the ground, he drags himself upstairs and towards his bedroom. He eyes his bed, the one he slept with you in, the one he kissed you in, the one he held you in. The picture on his nightstand makes the ache even worse– you in your cheer uniform and him in his basketball uniform after a game, his arm is wrapped around your waist, you are both looking at each other with big smiles on your faces. Your green scrunchie is laying on his nightstand, along with a bottle of your favorite perfume. Your clothes are in his closet, your magazines and favorite books are laying around. 
Where does Nancy fit into all of this? 
This is so wrong, so so wrong but Steve doesn’t realize it fully yet. 
For a moment, he lets himself feel. He sits down on his bed with a heavy sigh, he reaches for your scrunchie, holding it in the palm of his hand, he stares at it. He remembers the night you stayed over at his place for the first time, when you just started dating. You were nervous and shy as though it was the first time alone with him– it wasn’t. You have known each other since you were little kids, your mom’s have been friends since their days at high school, they have even gone to summer camps together and are friends to this day. You and Steve have been around each other since, well, always. Whenever your mom’s would have ‘girls nights’, the two of you would hang out in yours or his room, listening to music or watching movies together. You were friends before you became more than that. He has yet to realize what he actually lost. 
The first time you stayed over, he walked into his room after giving you privacy to get changed. You were sitting on his bed when he walked back in, in nothing but one of his big shirts, your hair was open, your face free of any makeup. You looked so beautiful, he remembers the way his breath got caught in his throat, the way you blushed when he stared at you for a long time before speaking up. He remembers the way he sat down behind you and gathered your hair with his hands and pulled it into a low ponytail before he kissed your neck softly. 
He doesn’t feel the smile tugging at his lips at that memory. 
He looks at the picture on his nightstand, he reaches for it. The smile on your face so different from the look on your face he saw earlier– the tears in your eyes, the quivering lips, the sadness and the pain in your features. Steve stops breathing for a moment, a sinking feeling takes place in his chest and stomach. 
What did he do? 
He looks up and looks around his room with a weird feeling in his chest. The energy in his room is off, he can feel it now. He looks at his desk, books and papers are laying messily on the table. He remembers studying for a science test with you on his lap, for every right answer he got a kiss from you. He looks over to his bathroom, the door is wide open, he stares at the sink and thinks about the way you used to brush your teeth together in the mornings after you had stayed over.  
The moment those memories start to flood back, he shuts them out. He throws the scrunchie on his bed and gets up, he leaves the room and comes back with an empty box, moments later. He fills it with all the things that belong to you, everything that you have left behind goes into that box, which then goes into the back of his closet. He can’t get rid of it but he can’t give these things back to you either. It’s over but he just can’t give it back. 
He can’t let go. 
He can’t let you go, not yet. 
Not even when he ends up calling her after putting your things into the very back of his closet. Not even when he takes her out on their first date later that night. Not even when he kisses her when he drops her off again– ignoring the way it feels so wrong to feel someone else’s lips on his, ignoring the way it feels like he is betraying you.
-
Sunday morning. No arms are wrapped around you, no kisses are left on your shoulder, no ‘good morning’ whispers. You wake up to an empty bed, goosebumps arise on your skin when the cold wind touches your bare arms, you left the window open for him but he didn’t come, of course he didn't, what were you thinking? That he would climb through your window, apologize for what he did and beg for forgiveness? Did you really think that he would do that? You didn’t but you had hoped that he would. 
You lay in your cold bed, beneath the sheets that do nothing to comfort you. You look around your messy room, it feels so lonely. The house feels lonely without him here. Your mom is rarely ever home, too many shifts at the station keep her out of the house most of the time but Sunday mornings are always spent at home. 
The weather matches your mood, it’s raining harder than the day before and thunder rumbles in the sky. Tears well up in your eyes when your mind takes you back to him. How will you keep going? Your life turned upside down in the span of a few days, you lost him– not only your boyfriend but also your childhood friend. You lost both. He threw it all away, he threw you away like you never meant anything to him. 
A sob rises up in your throat, the ache in your chest is so fresh and it hurts so bad. It makes you want to rip your heart out of your chest to get rid of all this pain. 
You hear dishes clattering in the kitchen. You’re excited to see her so despite the pain and the sadness in your chest, you sit up and drag yourself out of your bed, using the bathroom and freshening up before you make your way downstairs. The smell of coffee lingers in the air, bringing a sense of comfort to you. The radio is on, if you leave me now is playing– how ironic. You roll your eyes and bite back your tears as you walk into the kitchen. Your mom is standing in front of the window, a cup of steaming hot coffee in her hand and a magazine in the other. She is wearing her workout clothes, she must have been on her morning run already.
You swallow, blinking a few times to make your eyes look less glassy. 
“Good morning, mom.” 
You quickly turn towards the coffee pot before she turns around, reaching for the orange mug. You miss the look of surprise on her face when she sees you up so early. 
“Good morning, sweetie.” 
She places her magazine on the counter, leaning against it, she presses the mug to her chest and watches you. You pour some sugar and milk into your coffee, stirring it slowly with the silver spoon, not glancing at her just yet. 
“What are you doing up so early?” 
Is it early? You didn’t even check the time when you got up. A glance at the clock on the wall tells you that it’s 8am. Great. You only slept for two hours. 
“I went to sleep early last night,” you lie and take a sip of your coffee. You turn your back to her and walk towards the kitchen table. You can feel her eyes on you. Maybe it was a mistake to come downstairs already, you are not ready to tell her about what happened. 
She grabs the magazine again and joins you at the table. 
“No date night last night?” She teases you, not knowing that this is enough for you to tear up again, “is Steve still sleeping? I bought those bagels he likes so much.”
Your bottom lip quivers and your eyes well up with tears. 
You and Steve always spent Sunday mornings sitting at the kitchen table with your mom, eating breakfast, drinking coffee and talking for hours. Sometimes Steve’s mom, Lauren would come over as well– now it’s all over. 
You shake your head slowly, staring at the dark liquid inside your favorite mug, “n-no.” 
She doesn’t have to look at your face to know that something is off, the way you are sitting with your shoulders slumped is more than enough for her to figure out that you are not feeling well. She furrows her brows and leans forward. 
“What happened, y/n?” 
You press your lips together, blinking rapidly, as though it will stop the tears from falling. You look up at her through your bangs, tears continuing to well up. Your hands are shaking and it takes everything in you not to break down.
Her eyes flash with realization, she raises her brows and sighs. Her gaze softens and she instantly reaches out to grab your hand, “oh y/n.” 
She doesn’t need words or an explanation to know what happened. The look on your face, the tears in your eyes are enough. She knows it all too well. 
You break down in front of her, not caring about holding the tears in any longer. She hugs you tightly, runs her fingers through your hair and comforts you as best as she can but it does little to make you feel better. The pain is just too fresh. 
How will you keep going? You ask yourself again. Steve had been there all your life, ever since you were little kids, he was there. He was always there and now you just have to accept that he is gone? That you have lost your boyfriend and your best friend? That he fell for another girl and left you for her? That you weren’t enough? That he never loved you when he said he did? 
What if you never crossed that line with him? What if you just stayed friends? What if you saw through him from the start? 
There are so many what if’s running through your mind, so many questions, though you don’t have any answers for them. 
There are so many things that you don’t understand. How could he say I love you when he never meant it? I love you under the moonlight, I love you between kisses, I love you during classes, I love you before he hung up the phone, I love you before going to bed, before leaving your house, before parting ways at school. So many I love you’s, so many lies. How could he touch you and still sleep with you when she was already on his mind? Did he think about her when he was with you? 
You hope he didn’t but that hope dies when you see him a day later, walking down the hallway with a smile on his face, hand in hand with another girl. After only two days of being without you, he is already with her, looking happier than ever. It tears a gasp out of you, it makes you stare at him in shock and with tears in your eyes as he looks right at you. 
Curious eyes, shocked faces and hushed whispers.
Steve swallows nervously, he puts on a brave face. He can see the look in your eyes, the tears, the pain, the shock when your eyes move over to her. Nancy Wheeler. She is holding his hand tightly, looking around shyly when she notices all the stares. Her hand feels different from yours. 
All eyes are on the new couple but his eyes are on you. He watches the way your face goes from shock to pain to betrayal to disappointment. Questions run through your mind, he can tell by the look on your face. He can tell by the way your eyes flash with confusion when they meet his again. How could you? You were mine last week and now you are already hers? Were you ever mine? 
Uncertainty fills him the longer he stares at you.
This was the right decision, right? 
You stare at him for what feels like forever. Time slows and it’s just the two of you in this hallway. He forgets about all the people staring at him, he forgets about her. For a moment, it’s only you and him. Tears that he would have kissed away in other circumstances threaten to fall down your cheeks but you don’t let them. You force them away and blink rapidly. You are suffering because of him. He knows it and it makes his heart sink to his stomach. 
He forces himself to look away from you. He forces himself to look at her. Though his eyes itch to glance at you when he hears your locker shutting and your footsteps echoing through the crowded hallway as you hurry out of the school. You brush past him, the smell of your perfume invades his senses. 
He wants to turn around but he doesn’t. 
-
You knew this would happen, you knew you would break down the moment you would see him. The mention of his name was enough to make you cry but seeing him with her after he just broke up with you was too much. 
You didn’t want to run away, you didn’t want to break down but you couldn’t help it. The moment you saw him with her, a wave of nausea fell over you, you had to get out so you ran out of the school with your backpack in hand and your jacket in the other. You ran to the back of the school, the place where all the stoners– no one is here now, you are grateful for that. 
You throw your backpack on the ground and sit down, leaning your back against the wall, you pull your knees up to your chest, still biting back a sob as tears begin to fall down your cheeks. You are supposed to meet up with Heather and Chrissy at the library but you don’t feel like going back in there and quite frankly, you don’t want to see the pitiful looks in their eyes. 
You lean your elbows on your knees and cup your cheeks as you stare into blank space. 
You don’t understand, how can he be with her after not even a week? 
Was he with her all this time already?
Did he cheat on you? He must have.
The smell of smoke fills the air and the sound of footsteps follow but you don’t bother looking up, hoping that it’s just some random student. Luck isn’t on your side though, it never is. 
You see his boots first, glancing up a little, you see the denim jacket and smell his cologne. The usual eye roll that he would get from you is missing. He doesn’t say anything, instead he blows smoke into the air and sits down next to you. 
You sniffle quietly, hiding your face by looking down. 
“Do you want me to kick his ass?” Billy asks, “cause you know I will.” 
You shake your head. 
He sighs, placing the cigarette between his lips, he turns his head to look at you. Tears roll down your cheeks, the wind blows through your hair, exposing your face a little. You are quiet as you let yourself cry, in front of him. You never thought that you would ever cry in front of Billy, out of all people but right now, you couldn't care less.
“You know, I always thought you were too good for him.” 
You want to scoff and roll your eyes but you don’t have the energy to, not today. 
“That’s bullshit,” you mumble. You know what type of man Billy is, he is just like Steve– if not worse. 
“No, it’s not,” he chuckles, “I might not be the guy you want to hear this from but you deserve better than fucking King Steve. There’s plenty of other guys for a pretty girl like you.”
“That’s not helping,” you mumble. Raising your head to look at him, you expect him to stare at you with a smirk on his face or amusement in his eyes but you find neither. His face is straight, his eyes are filled with– you don’t know what his eyes are filled with, he is hard to read. You don’t see any pity and that’s good enough for you. 
He shrugs and continues to smoke his cigarette. 
You turn away from him again and lean your head against the wall. You look up at the sky and watch the clouds move. 
“I saw them together two weeks ago.” 
You look back at him, watching him through your blurry vision, “w-where?” 
He takes his last drag of the cigarette before he throws it on the ground, he blows the smoke out into the air and turns back to you. 
“At the diner, they were in his car and,” he pauses when he sees the fresh tears in your eyes. 
“And?” You ask. 
Your heart is racing, fear settles in the pit of your stomach. Does it even matter anymore, what he did with her? He left you for her already, it shouldn’t matter anymore but it does. 
He blinks, looking away, he feels a sense of pity for you. Billy doesn’t know what it’s like to get his heart broken this way but he knows what it’s like to be left. 
“They kissed.”
Despite everything that happened, despite the things he told you already. These words still feel like a stab to your heart. Your eyes drop, your shoulders slump and a heavy sigh falls from your lips. 
“Oh..” 
Two weeks ago. He called you after he went to the diner to ‘study’ with her to say goodnight the way he always did but that night was the first time he hung up without saying I love you.
You want to run again. You blink rapidly, wanting the tears to be gone. You get up and grab your stuff, ignoring the weight of his eyes on you. You want to run and get away from everything including yourself.
“Where are you going?” 
You shrug. 
Where are you going? You don't know where you should go.
Billy gets up as well, reaching for your wrist to keep you from running away. You look down at his hand before you look up and into his eyes with a frown on your face. He holds his car keys up, “wanna get out of here?” 
Billy is not someone you want to spend the day with but Steve is now the last person you want to see. You are desperate to get away and you would leave with just about anyone if that means that it will keep you away from him and her.
“Okay.” 
-
Who could’ve ever prepared you for such pain? Absolutely no one– not the many heartbreaking books you’ve read, not the relationships you have watched falling apart, not even your mother’s heartbreak when your father left could have prepared you for the pain that you have been going through since he left you. It should be getting better by now, right? But it doesn’t, if anything, it keeps getting worse and worse. 
Everywhere you go, you see him, everywhere you look, you get reminded of him, memories follow you every way you turn to. He cursed you with love, pain and heartbreak and you despise him for it, you despise the way he shattered your fragile little heart, the way he broke every promise he ever made, the way he never loved you when he told you he did. 
‘I-I’m not even sure if I ever loved you, y/n. I wouldn’t have fallen for her if I did love you, right?’ Those words haunt you, they haunt you day and night, when you wake up in the bed you used to sleep with him in, when you get ready in the bathroom, staring at your reflection, thinking about a time when he would come up behind you and wrap his arms around your waist, when you walk down the stairs only to think about all the times he would walk through the front door with freshly picked flowers, your favorite ones. Those words haunt you at school, when every place you turn to is nothing but a reminder of him, when you see him with her. They even haunt you in your sleep and there is nothing you can do about it. 
Curious and confused glances were thrown your and Steve’s way after the breakup, whispers in the locker rooms, bathrooms and hallways– you heard them all. You weren’t the only one shocked about Steve’s actions, everyone else was too. 
A month of torture had passed and you know that it’s far from over. No matter what you do, no matter who you are with, you can’t stop thinking about him, you can’t stop hurting, you can’t stop crying every time you think of him, you can’t stop tearing up every time you see him. This morning you had walked in on them kissing in the bathroom, her back was pressed against the wall, his hands were on her waist, he was kissing her hungrily. Neither of them saw you, you left just as quick as you came. It ruined your day before it even started. 
Will this ever end? This pain, this heartbreak? 
Your knees are pulled to your chest, your eyes are closed, your chin resting on your knees. You should be at cheer practice, instead you are crying your eyes out on the cold bathroom floor. 
The door opens and two different voices fill the silence in the bathroom, ones you instantly recognize. 
“I just don’t get why you’re so mad–”
“You promised that we’d leave together but you just ditched me because you wanted to lose your stupid virginity to King Steve, who’s by the way, a huge asshole,” Barb grumbles, “I bet it wasn’t even worth it.”
“I-It was! And he’s not an asshole!” You hear Nancy exclaim, “he’s sweet a-and it was.. nice. And it’s not like something happened to you, you got home safe, didn’t you?” 
Your eyes snap open, you place your hand over your lips. Your heart leaps to your throat and your stomach clenches uncomfortably. 
So he didn’t sleep with her while he was still with you. It does little to comfort you, it still makes you feel sick to know that he is with her, that he is so happy while you still cry yourself to sleep every night. 
Does he hold her afterwards? He never held you after you had sex– maybe once or twice on nights where you had felt sad, he traced your skin, drawing stars around the scars that only he got to see. Does he kiss her afterwards? He never kissed you, most of the time he only pecked your forehead and then he would turn away from you. Does he fall asleep afterwards or does he actually bother to take care of her the way he never took care of you? 
“Right,” Barb scoffs, “well, don’t be surprised when he leaves you for another virgin.”
Virgin. Is that what he wanted? Another virgin, another notch on his belt? A new thing to brag about? 
“Why are you so mean?” Nancy mumbles. 
“I’m not mean, I’m just telling the truth, he seems to be moving on quickly– he was just dating y/n and now he’s with you, like he wasn’t in a long term relationship.” 
You hear Nancy shuffling around the bathroom, placing her bag on the floor, followed by a loud sigh. 
“I mean, it wasn’t love.” 
You raise your eyebrows and clench your jaw. Anger fills you and pain tugs at your heart. You know it wasn’t love for him but it still hurts you to hear those words. Does he talk to her about you? Does he laugh about what he once knew love to be now that he has her, the girl he actually loves? 
“It wasn’t love?” Barb asks, laughing at her friend's words, “I don’t know about you but they seemed pretty in love to me.” 
“Well, he wasn’t in love with her– I mean, he dated her because that was expected of him, right? She’s the popular cheerleader, the pretty rich girl,” she says mockingly, “those have nothing in their brains and they’re pretty boring too so.. It was all just for show, I-I mean, do you really think he wanted her for her? I’m pretty sure that she’s already onto the next guy anyway, girls like her are–”
“Whoa that’s mean, Nance.” 
Yeah, these words are mean for someone who looks so sweet and innocent. You don’t know whether to laugh or to walk out and slam her stupid face into the mirror. You have been holding yourself back from confrontations, not wanting to reveal how hurt and angry you really are about the breakup and about her stealing from you. 
“It’s the truth! Steve told me that Billy Hargrove was after her since he moved here this summer.”
“What does that have to do with her being ‘easy’? He’s after her? So? Half of the school would die for a chance with her, that doesn’t make her easy, it’s not like she’s after them– besides, even if she was, she’s single and free to do whatever she wants. She wasn’t the one who went after other people while she was still in a relationship unlike your boyfriend. The only easy one here is Steve– seriously, stop being so mean, you got what you wanted, what else do you want?” 
That’s what you ask yourself as well, what else does she want?
You push yourself up and smooth down your skirt but before you can leave the stall and make your presence known to them, their footsteps echo through the bathroom, the door opens and they leave without realizing that you were there. 
Sighing, you slump against the wall and look up at the ceiling. You never really cared about Nancy Wheeler, you never had anything to do with her. You didn’t mind her, not even when you saw the way she looked at Steve while he was still yours, her big and innocent eyes trained on the King. She always batted her eyelashes at him, giggled at his stupid jokes and it drove him crazy, he loved it, the attention he got from another girl. She wasn’t the first one who looked at him that way, who touched his arm and giggled at his jokes but she was the first one who managed to steal his attention away from you. 
She was the first one who made him doubt his feelings for you. 
And he let it all happen and it angers you because you feel like a fool for loving him despite the things he put you through. He will never be yours again and you will never be his again, you know it and yet it’s still such a hard thing to grasp. It’s only been a few weeks without him, yet it feels like a lifetime.
You know you have to let him go. 
You kept holding onto him, hoping that he would come back because you thought you knew that he would come back but he won’t and he never will. He looks happy with her, happier than he ever looked with you and no matter how much it hurts, you let him go and you get rid of every part of him that you kept holding onto.
The sweater that he left behind in your bedroom, the collection of polaroids in the shoebox under your bed. The necklace he gave you on your sixteenth birthday. The bottle of cologne that he left on your dresser. The ring he put on your finger– a promise ring. You throw it all away, not letting the memories get to you this time. You push them all out, you force them all out of your mind. 
You let him go. 
-
Steve Harrington stopped existing in your life. Days and weeks have passed since the day he left you and it’s as though he became a ghost in your life. You stopped looking at him, you stopped acknowledging his presence– whenever you walk past him in the hallways, you pretend to not see him, when you’re in the same class, you never spare a single glance at him, not even when you have to walk past him to get to your seat, when you’re both at basketball games and you have to cheer him and his team on, you look at everyone but at him and it bothers him. It bothers him to see you acting like he doesn’t exist to you, like he’s not even there, like he’s invisible. 
He doesn’t understand what the feeling in his chest is every time he sees you– odd. It feels odd to see you walk past him without stopping by his locker to steal a kiss– he did this, he caused this. He didn’t want you anymore. He wanted her and now he has her but why does he feel like the worst person alive? Why does he feel so unhappy when he finally has what he wants? 
“Steve?” 
You stop in front of your locker, opening it, you look at yourself in the tiny mirror you put into your locker– you look beautiful, the way you always do. Your hair is pulled into a loose ponytail, you’ve got your cheer uniform on like always, a cardigan that looks way too big on you hangs loosely on your form, it reminds him of the way his big sweaters would look on you. 
He wonders if you still think about him. He wonders if you still hate him for what he did to you almost two months back. He wonders if you would curse him out if he came over to talk. He wonders if–
“Steve!” 
Nancy tugs on his hand and says his name a little louder, pulling him out of his thoughts and forcing him to tear his eyes away from you. He blinks, furrowing his brows as he looks down at her. 
“Yeah, what is it?” 
“Are you… okay?” She asks, giving him a small smile. 
“Yeah,” he mumbles as he looks back at you again, “yeah, I’m okay.” 
“What are you doing tonight?” Nancy asks.
He shrugs, “I don’t know, I thought we could watch a movie or something.”
“Oh uh, about that,” Nancy starts, looking around, she doesn’t even notice the way he looks at you, “I have this thing–”
Steve frowns, though it’s not because of his girlfriend’s words but because of the man approaching you. 
“Thing?” Steve mumbles. 
“Yeah, I’m working on this project with Jonathan and we gotta get it done before christmas break, so..” 
“Oh, yeah that’s fine,” Steve says without really thinking about her words. His attention is elsewhere. 
Billy Hargrove. 
Steve had always hated him. He moved here this summer and left an amazing impression the first time he met him. Billy had set his eyes on you the moment he stepped into Hawkins. 
Every party you and Steve had gone to together, ended with you arguing because of Billy Hargrove– well more so because of himself and his jealousy, because he couldn’t contain it, because he was too insecure, because he saw the way he looked at you, like he knew that he would get you eventually, like he knew that he would get you to leave him. 
Maybe that’s where it all went wrong.
Maybe his insecurities got the best of him. 
Maybe things would have been different if he wasn’t so jealous all the time. 
“Hey uh– I’m meeting Barb at the library, I gotta go,” Nancy says before she grabs his chin and pulls him in for a short kiss. 
Steve forces a smile onto his face and pecks her lips once more before he lets her go. He watches her leave and waves at her when she turns around to flash him another smile. When she is gone, he turns back to you. 
Billy’s hand is resting on the locker next to yours, the usual smirk on his face is wide as he eyes you up and down. You don’t seem too happy about his presence though, rolling your eyes at whatever he is saying to you. Billy leans even closer to you and you don’t hesitate to push him away from you, you sigh, he can tell by the way your lips part and the way your chest rises. You press your fingertips against his chest to keep him away from you, saying something to him that Steve can’t make out from afar before you turn around and leave. Billy doesn’t even look fazed, if anything, he smirks even more and tilts his head, licking his lips as he stares at your legs. 
Steve rolls his eyes, still hating the way Billy looks at you. He shuts his locker and walks into the same direction you walked to. It’s the last class of the day, the one he shares with you; English class. 
You are already in your seat when Steve walks into the classroom. The seat next to yours is empty, it still is ever since he moved. You are looking down at your notebook, a pencil tugged between your lips as your other hand is propped against your cheek. He looks away and makes his way over to his new usual seat when he realizes that it’s already taken by Tommy Hagan who looks at him with a smirk on his face. His girlfriend, Carol is chewing her gum obnoxiously as she sports the same smirk as her boyfriend. Steve clenches his jaw in anger, irritation sparks inside of him. 
These two have been making his school days more unbearable than before ever since his fallout with Tommy. 
“There’s a free seat,” Carol smirks as she points to the seat next to yours, “the queen looks pretty lonely without her king, don’t you think?” 
Tommy chuckles, “yeah, don’t worry we won’t tell your mistress.” 
Steve scoffs at their words, rolling his eyes, he looks around the classroom. The seat next to yours is indeed the only free one. Fuck. He shakes his head and turns away, begrudgingly making his way over to his old seat. He glances at you when he throws his books on the table. 
You don’t acknowledge his presence but you freeze when he sits down next to you. You pause what you are doing, clenching your hand into a fist and taking deep breaths. Steve notices it all– he wonders if you are angry or nervous. 
He leans back in his seat and turns around to look at his old friends who are already giggling. He glares at them and turns back around, hoping that this lesson will go by quickly. 
He tries to keep his eyes off of you but he keeps glancing at you every few seconds or so. He notices something, it’s a small detail but he notices it, the eyeshadow on your eyelids has been replaced by black eyeliner, that must make your eyes look brighter– if you just looked at him, he would know. 
His mom asks about you all the time, he felt bad when he had to tell her that he broke up with you, he felt even worse when he had to tell her about his new girlfriend. She wasn’t too excited to meet her. His mom adores you. He doesn’t remember the last time she saw you. He doesn’t even remember the last time he saw you out of school. You started skipping cheer practice, you stopped coming to games even though it is your job to do so as the cheer captain, you have slowly started to give that title over to your friend, Chrissy. Some days you even came to school with your regular clothes, ditching the cheer outfit for a pair of jeans and a sweater. 
He wonders how you are feeling. 
He wonders what you do in your free time now. 
He wonders if you still listen to the same music. 
He wonders if–
“You’ll be working on this assignment in pairs.”
“Do we get to choose our partner?” Carol asks with a smirk on her face. 
Panic fills Steve’s chest when he stares at the teacher. He missed the whole class because he was staring at you.
“No,” Mrs. Jones says with a straight face, “not after the last time. You work with your seat partner. You got a little over a week, so–” she pauses as she takes a look at the calendar on her wall, “you will get to finish it just in time before Christmas break.” 
Steve drowns out the rest of her words, he swallows nervously as he looks over at you. His palms get sweaty and his heart begins to race in his chest. 
You are not giving any reactions, you pretend to be unbothered by this whole situation. When the bell rings and everyone gets up to leave the classroom, you get up and gather your books. 
Steve runs his hand through his hair and looks around before his eyes find you again. He speaks your name with uncertainty in his voice. 
“Don’t bother, Harrington. I’ll write the assignment myself, not that you’d be much of a help anyways,” you mumble, coldly. 
This is the first time you have said anything to him in weeks, you didn’t even bother to look at him. You didn’t even bother to wait for him to say something. You turned around and left without sparing a single glance. 
“Y/n!” He calls out to you but you are already gone. 
Sighing, he slumps back into his seat, not caring about the many eyes on him. 
“Aw,” Carol coos with a smug look on her face, “cute, the lovers will reunite again. Isn’t that how you met Nancy?” 
Tommy chuckles, throwing his arm around his girlfriend’s shoulder, he looks down at Steve, “yeah,” he nods, “don’t think that King Steve will get his queen back though,” he chuckles. 
Carol’s eyes flash with amusement, “right, last time I checked she was screwing around with Billy,” she says. Giggling when she sees the shocked look on Steve’s face, “oops, you didn’t know?” 
She pouts at him, “guess your fear was valid after all, I mean that’s what you were always afraid of, right? That he would steal your girl?” 
Steve swallows harshly, he feels like he has been punched. You are sleeping with Billy? The guy you always told him not to worry about? The guy that caused all his jealousy?
“Don’t worry, Steve,” Tommy laughs, “it’s just sex, damaged girls like her just wanna be fucked," he says before he turns around with a chuckle, he and Carol leave before Steve gets to say anything back.
A bitter taste lays on his tongue, he leans back in his seat, staring down at the hair tie around his wrist.
He can't believe it, he can't believe you.
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