#takes her a while to make that choice but she realizes she has a better chance at life here even if she struggled to find the meaning to | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

babyyhoneyyy · 2 days

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⋆.˚✮ 𝕾𝖙𝖆𝖗𝖌𝖎𝖗𝖑 ✮˚.⋆ - One Shot [h.s]

Storyline: After concluding a public relationship on unfavorable terms, singer Madison Moore decides to sever all ties with her boyfriend. However, a year after their separation, she crosses paths with him again at an awards ceremony, where he makes his entrance accompanied by his new girlfriend – the same one Madison once suspected of cheating on her. Nevertheless, she no longer possesses the same docile and soft personality she used to have and when she realizes her ex is attempting to approach her, she chooses to immerse herself in a casual conversation, coincidentally encountering her primary rival in the music industry, Harry Styles. Word count: +9k Smut: 🔞

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Diamonds sparkle around my neck, while pearls delicately rest on my ears. A charming set of jewelry has been carefully chosen for the evening, creating a perfect combination with the black dress I selected for the red carpet.

The fabric hugs my figure precisely, displaying a dark yet radiant shade that reflects tiny glints under the light. The standout features are its pronounced V-neck and the leg slit, adding a revealing touch to the ensemble. My hair complements the look with a lace-up that falls down my back, leaving my forehead exposed.

I glance once again at the small clock showing the time through the mirror's reflection. It's nine fifteen, and there are just a few minutes left until the rest of the team arrives, and we all head to tonight's location in the van.

I close my eyes for a brief moment, letting them open again as my reflection appears before me. In another moment, the red lips might have seemed excessive, but tonight they were more than appropriate if I aimed to make an impact. A long-awaited display of recognition, only possible with suggestive clothing and a mischievous look.

I knew these tricks well; I had been using them for a few months and had become almost an expert. However, I couldn't really complain; they provided me with confidence and a sense of control, as only I knew how far to go and how much to reveal.

I hear my nickname being called by my manager, beckoning me from the other side of the door, signaling that the moment has arrived.

I let out a final sigh, giving one last glance at my reflection in the mirror, and with a small affirmative gesture, I make my way to the door. I unlock the latch and move down the hallway.

"How do I look?" I ask once I see my entire team getting ready to leave my apartment. Their gazes immediately shift to my face and gradually descend to my outfit, creating a subtle interplay between my face and figure in a silence that was beginning to feel almost unsettling.

Then, Allyson, my best friend and the person who would also accompany me to the gala, more at my request, approached me, dropping her hands onto my shoulders and holding me lightly while allowing a cheeky gaze to traverse my body once again.

"Incredibly hot," she replied with a side smile. If I didn't know her better, I would even say she was flirting with me.

"You look like a freaking superstar," Sandy, my agent, joined by my side, commented with a radiant smile that I didn't hesitate to reciprocate.

"A very sexy one," added Allyson.

"Seems like she got the memo," I responded to Sandy, throwing a glance at my friend while I simply watched their interaction with amusement.

"Time's running out. People are already asking if you'll show up, Maddy". I hear the voice of one of the technicians, prompting my manager, my best friend, and me to hurry and exit immediately.

I feel a slight tug on my arm, causing me to turn my head back. I observe Sandy, who looks at me with her typical observant and serene expression before any event, always trying to convey the same message to me.

"You're going to fuck everyone tonight". A smile escapes me due to her choice of words, as I playfully nod, and she takes my arm, finally allowing us to exit the apartment.

The noise of the city intensified as we navigated its streets. The neon signs became more prominent, and some cars honked their horns. Although I would have enjoyed observing the characteristic brightness of Hollywood, the driver's announcement that we had arrived only made my heart beat faster. The once bustling atmosphere provided by the streets was now fueled by fans waiting outside the venue.

The van's polarized windows prevented them from seeing me from the inside, but somehow, magically, some people had already started chanting my name. A smile spread across my face, feeling more confident as we headed towards the location predetermined by the team. I observed the various faces approaching the van, trying unsuccessfully to see beyond, but still shouting random names until they landed on the right one.

I checked my small bag, pulled out my mirror, and refreshed my lips with the lipstick I had specifically chosen for tonight. I took a deep breath a couple of times, practicing a breathing technique I had been taught since my early days in the industry, trying to focus on all the positive things that had happened up to that point. I was about to participate in one of the highlights of my career, not just as a guest but practically as the potential winner and the main star of the night. I was at the top, and no one could stop me.

My nod was enough for the back door to open, allowing my heel to finally touch the red carpet. The noise intensified, ringing loudly in my ears as the choruses of my name created a buzz around me. Camera flashes accompanied my descent as I tilted my head slightly to mark my steps on the pavement.

I stood in the center of the carpet, striking various poses for the photographers, keeping my face with a serene expression, and, on some occasions, with a smile. I began to move away as the pleading shouts for me to stay faded away. Allyson gently took my arm, occasionally smiling at the paparazzi still trying to get our attention as we entered the venue, followed by my team.

As we made our way through the backstage hallways, I could hear the voices of the presenters. I watched different technicians move around us, greeting me as they recognized me. Some even asked me to take a photo, a request to which I gladly agreed.

My heels lost prominence as we approached, overshadowed by the buzz of the show taking place in the main hall.

"Maddy," I hear Sandy's voice behind me, taking a moment to address me while she seems to be immersed in a phone conversation. "You should start getting ready," she informs me.

"Of course" I reply, making her nod before she returns to her phone call. I glance at my best friend, who has let go of my arm and looks at me with a pout. We both knew that her seat was reserved at the assigned table inside the hall, and I had to head to the dressing rooms to change.

"At least you'll wait for me next to Shawn Mendes" I mention, giving her a playful nudge as she regains a smile.

"You're absolutely right," she replies. A smile lights up her face, and before I can leave, she takes my hand, drawing my attention again. Ally is not known for being an especially emotional person; in fact, I used to surpass her in that aspect. However, lately, her emotions have started to emerge, which is saying a lot considering I've known her for more than half of my life. The expression she wears right now is more than enough to make my heart swell. A tenderness that adds sweetness to our friendship and makes me feel grateful for it every day.

"You're going to do wonderfully, although you already know it," she says, gently squeezing my hand. I feel the excitement rise through my body, finally manifesting in the growing moisture in my eyes. I blink a bit as I look up, preventing the tears from actually coming out. "I love you, Maddy. Good luck".

Oh, dear, I hate getting so emotional to the point of crying in these situations.

Unable to contain myself, I move closer to her, releasing our hand grip and enveloping her in an affectionate hug. Finally, I pull away and nod.

"I love you too, thank you". I reply, finally letting her go to continue her way into the hall, where the noise returns once the door leading directly to the entrance opens.

Again, the sound of my heels echoed on the floor, this time as I headed towards the path that led to the dressing rooms. As I advanced, some technicians greeted me until I reached the door with a star bearing my name. Under my hand on the lock, turning the knob as the dressing room materialized in front of me.

Immediately, I was enveloped by the scent of vanilla. Warm lights illuminated the room, matching the furniture in beige tones, including a sofa, a dressing table, and a small table with dried fruits, fresh ones, and bottles of water.

However, my attention focused on the rack beside the furniture. I approached and took off the cover that was suspended on a hook. I placed it on the chair, spreading it out as I unzipped the garment bag, finally revealing the outfit I would wear that night.

My performance would be marked by a yellow ensemble that had been tailored for me some time ago. It consisted of a ruffled top and a matching skirt, providing additional volume to my figure. Although it exposed my abdomen, allowing me the flexibility to dance and move freely on stage thanks to the small shorts I wore under the skirt.

It was a beautiful and practical outfit. It had been in my closet for a long time, and this was the perfect occasion to wear it.

I placed my belongings on the dressing table and secured the dressing room door for more privacy. Dressing was straightforward; however, removing the dress presented some difficulty. Nevertheless, I finally managed to replace it on the dress stand and hang it on the rack.

I turned towards the full-length mirror in the corner of the room, allowing my image to be seen from head to toe, highlighting the combination of yellow that enhances my skin tone and subtly adds volume.

I heard a tapping on the door, and I approached to open it, allowing Sandy's figure to enter the dressing room. I didn't stand up to show her my outfit, as she had witnessed the tailoring process from the beginning. Instead, I sit at the vanity and pull out the makeup I had brought for touch-ups, quickly changing the shade of my lipstick so I can blend in with my outfit and also to mattify my face with powder.

I felt calm until that moment, mentally reviewing the choreographies I would perform. However, when my nickname came out of my manager's lips, I immediately looked at her. I knew Sandy long enough, from my beginnings in this industry, and I could already discern precisely when something was not right.

"What happened?" I immediately ask, although silence persists from Sandy's side. She has chosen to sit on the couch, watching me through the mirror. "Sandy, tell me now, you're making me nervous". I say.

I see a sigh escape her lips as she nods towards me and says, "It's about your performance".

My breathing starts to become uneven as infinite possibilities take shape before me. I remain calmly silent for a moment until I decide to respond.

"Okay..." I affirm, maintaining composure regarding the situation, and wait to get more details. "What happened with that?"

"They said we have to cut it down," she replies at the same time my confusion arises. This time, Sandy doesn't wait for me to ask additional questions and proceeds to explain, "Now, you'll only have time for one song, then you'll have to leave the stage to make way for the next artist".

My eyes narrow in her direction, I turn my back to her, and lean on the back of my seat at the dressing table.

What exactly did she mean by that?

"Next artist?" I ask still confused. "I thought I was the main performance".

"That's right," she replies. "But, apparently, there was a sudden change of plans because they need to add someone else in that slot".

I continue to watch her attentively, examining each of her gestures. She clearly seems nervous, but I feel like she's hiding something more.

"Who?" I venture to ask. The question is enough for Sandy to shake her head repeatedly and get up from her seat on the couch. I watch as she starts pacing around the dressing room, holding her phone and typing at the same time. I call her again, but her response is limited to giving me a look and remaining silent. "Sandy, I was promised a full performance. I've practiced for months to occupy an entire slot, not to be limited to just a few minutes. At the very least, I deserve to know who it is".

Sandy's eyebrows furrow, showing an internal struggle to reveal the truth. Finally, after a sigh that reflects her unease, she utters the name of the responsible party: "It's Harry Styles".

Of all people in this damn industry.

I sigh with frustration and look at myself again in the dressing room mirror. The light illuminates the space, covering my entire face and clearly reflecting my furrowed brow and a pout beginning to form on my lips.

What was originally going to be a complete performance of about ten minutes will now be reduced to only four, with just enough time to present my latest single.

I was upset, or rather, furious. I had dedicated months of effort and rehearsals to this, preparing to occupy an entire slot where I would not only present one but two songs, each with its own set design and choreography. And now, all that work was going to be wasted by having to involuntarily share the spotlight with someone else.

And worst of all, that someone else turned out to be him.

Harry embodied all the negative aspects of my career, being my number one rival since my position began to rise rapidly. There was a time when I considered that his growing popularity along with mine could be seen as a positive boost for my career, but it turned out to be the opposite when I realized he saw it as competition.

At one point, he snatched a venue where I was supposed to give a show. I tried to communicate with his team at that time and eventually with him, thinking it was a mistake. However, when I received a small note on my phone with a headline showing him laughing at the situation and even making sarcastic references to my loss in the middle of his own show, I decided that things needed to change in that regard.

I could tolerate many things, but I wouldn't allow him and his actions to leave my fans and me hanging.

"I'm really sorry, Maddy. I did my best, but they insisted on sharing the space". I hear Sandy's words, feeling her closer and visualizing her behind me, leaning on the chair that still supports my body.

I nod finally, aware that the issue was not in her hands to resolve, as it transcended our team.

I hear three knocks on the door, announcing that it was time to go. I check myself once again, making sure my makeup is still intact, and rise from my seat, also adjusting my skirt.

"Fuck them all. Let's go".

I hear Sandy's laughter beside me, leading the way as the dressing room door opens, allowing me to re-enter the bright light of the hallways. Most of my team is waiting for me. I greet the dancers who will accompany me with a smile and join them as applause fills the space. My team makes the moment more lively, allowing us to perform a small ritual that has become a tradition for us before each performance. We join our hands and raise them with cheers of excitement.

This is how I finally position myself behind the stage, gaining confidence as I turn my back to the audience. With my right hand, I hold the microphone and squeeze it tightly at least three times, inhaling air as I adjust my breathing.

Until I see the stage light up with blue lights, I close my eyes and let the music fill my ears, a chorus of screams chanting my name initiating my performance.

The performance unfolds exceptionally. The dancers beside me don't hesitate to execute strength in their steps, and I, in turn, accompany them beyond necessity. I put into practice all the breathing exercises, holding the high notes perfectly. All the effort is reflected in the applause and screams around me when the music stops and the lights intensify the drama.

I stayed on stage for an additional time, under everyone's gaze, waiting for the team's signal to descend from the platform. I raise my hand and give a small wave to everyone, receiving warm smiles, many of them from faces familiar to me in the industry.

The cue comes through my in-ear monitors, and with the dim lighting present, I descend from the stage at the back.

My team welcomes me with hugs and some applause as we return to the backstage. However, I sense the music resurfacing once again with a sound of trumpets that extends throughout the environment, triggering my inevitable curiosity.

I turn slightly backward, watching the bright light flooding the stage again in a warm tone, this time accompanied by a tall man who exhibits a unique presence that I have had the chance to witness on a few occasions, and he wears a suit that fits perfectly to his body, made of a fabric that seems to be leather.

I make a small grimace as I see him confidently traverse the stage, as if I had never appeared in this one, looking at the people as his own and quickly winning them over with his movements. The audience erupts in cheers when he drops what appears to be a green feather boa, revealing his bare torso, covered only by his leather jacket.

Not wanting to see any more, I turn around and head back to my dressing room, ready to change my clothes and head this time to the new place where the after party would take place.

I opted for a dress in a celestial shade and also fitted to my body, although the fabrics of this one had a subtle dewy effect that I loved.

As I enter the new lounge, I am greeted by upbeat music from a DJ and the dark lights in shades of red and blue become familiar with my dress. I sense greetings from a few industry acquaintances before finally finding my best friend in the crowd. Near a table at the bar, Ally was actively engaged in a conversation with the guy we once talked about, and then I began to doubt whether I should interrupt.

My lips concealed to prevent my smile from being too evident as I approached, but my gaze shifted, and immediately, I regretted it when I felt my steps instinctively stop.

A few feet away, I spotted Joe with his distinctive brown hair, recognizable to me. However, that wasn't all; next to him, a young blonde placed her hand on his shoulder, carelessly approaching his face while smiling at him.

At that moment, I couldn't pinpoint exactly the feeling I was experiencing, except for the paralysis of my heart that prompted me to continue watching their interaction. I mean, it wasn't common to meet my worst ex again, let alone witness his audacity in introducing the woman I discovered was his lover for much of our relationship.

I felt like I could vomit at any moment, and everything seemed to get worse when I sensed that Joe's gaze shifted from the girl beside him to me.

I felt the world crumbling around me, forcing me to blink and look away, although it was already too late when, from the corner of my eye, I saw his figure starting to approach.

Although Ally was still immersed in her conversation with Shawn, I no longer cared about interrupting them. But they were both far enough away that trying to get there in a hurry would be a hopeless endeavor.

So my only option was to turn around and head back to the dressing rooms, which ended only in colliding with another body in the attempt.

"Have you gotten lost all the way to your table now?" I hear Harry's characteristic husky voice, revealing his presence in front of me with a completely revamped outfit, still in dark tones, wearing a suit that seemed to be crafted from a wool-like fabric, though I couldn't pinpoint it due to the dim lighting. What was completely visible was his torso, now covered by a bividi.

A sigh escapes me. This was the last thing I needed.

"I forgot something in my dressing room," I reply.

"Still your dressing room?" he asks mockingly, causing a furrow in my eyebrows. "I thought once your performance was over, your name simply vanished from that door".

"I don't know, what do you think?" I respond sarcastically, hearing his laughter, knowing he expected me to reply with the same tone. "Did your name already vanish?"

"What do you think?" he replies. I roll my eyes, confident that no one would really see my expression due to the lively atmosphere around us. However, I decide to remain subtly cautious and maintain a falsely enthusiastic expression before smiling at him.

"I don't have time for this, Harry. Excuse me". I mutter under my breath, looking down, instantly erasing my smile, and waiting for his body to give me the pass.

Instead, Harry chooses to inquire, "Are you sure?" leaving me again with an inevitable furrowed brow as I realize he's not moving. "Because I see your ex-boyfriend over there with an attractive blonde a few meters from us," he states. Once again, I feel my heart freeze, and a dry cough resonates in my throat. Uncomfortable, I avert my gaze carefully, avoiding meeting anyone's eyes, until the husky voice manifests once again, but this time a bit closer. "And, in case you've forgotten, the dressing rooms are in the opposite direction".

Damn.

"Of course, I remember," I immediately respond, turning my head to address him directly, allowing him to step back a bit as he notices our proximity due to my movement, though I, for my part, don't even react. "I was going to the bathroom first, and then to my dressing room, that's what I meant".

"Sure". he murmurs with another smile. He doesn't hesitate to express his intention to tease me in front of me. His audacity has persisted since I've known him, and the incendiary reaction every time we cross paths only intensifies over time, becoming increasingly unbearable.

I felt a sense of suffocation every time I encountered him. I often watched him from a distance, displaying evident kindness to the public, being friendly, joking, and laughing, letting his dimples adorn his face. Despite all the charming image he projected around him, my perspective on him remained unchanged.

Every close encounter with Harry carried the accumulated tension throughout our career. The thirst for competition lingered silently as we exchanged glances at various events, and at times, even shared cheeky smiles that revealed our triumph when one of us won in our confrontations.

And, on this occasion, that's precisely what he was taking care of.

"Why don't you let me buy you a drink?" he suddenly asks, causing surprise and confusion on my face. I wait a few seconds before he continues, "As a way to congratulate you on your performance".

And there it was. It wasn't a friendly invitation but a celebration of his own triumph.

I feel discomfort rise on my cheeks, turning them reddish and experiencing the spreading warmth in me.

"Do you mean the performance you were about to steal from me?" I respond inquisitively.

"Did I?" he asks, feigning confusion in his words as his eyebrows tilt in sarcasm and his green eyes narrow.

I take the opportunity to get a bit closer to him, leaving us almost at the same distance as he once chose to move away. However, this time, he chooses to remain motionless in his place, making our height difference more evident, though my response is equally close.

"I know perfectly well that all of that was your fault," I murmur, making sure my words stay between us two. His eyebrows slightly arch as he continues to look at me, and I interpret it as a sign to continue, "It was a solo performance, and obviously, you couldn't stand not being the center of attention tonight".

Harry chooses to remain silent, studying my face carefully. I interpret his silence as confirmation, perhaps even something he was ashamed to admit aloud, and rightfully so, because that was what I really expected.

"You seem pretty sure," he finally responds, dropping his head to one side. "Let me discuss it with liquor on me".

"No way". I immediately deny.

"Your ex is still chasing you," he murmurs once again close to me.

I lower my gaze and inhale deeply.

There was no alternative. Either I faced Harry's words, or I faced Joe. One seemed to be worse than the other, although I couldn't decide which was which; but my instinct only urged me to go along with his proposition, and that's exactly what I did.

"Just one," I reply, reaching a conclusion. "No more".

Immediately, a dimple forms on his face, and an almost malicious look accompanies it. Whether I regretted it or not, I had already accepted, and he wouldn't allow me to truly retract.

Finally, this seemed to be my destiny for the night.

"Of course".

Harry turns, indicating for me to follow as the music around us increases as we approach the bar table. Lights flash in a variety of colors, now immersed in a dark violet tone. I grip my small purse firmly as bumps affect my body due to the dancing crowd, possibly drunk, without realizing or anticipating the space they occupy.

I don't pay much attention as I return my gaze forward, realizing that the bar atmosphere is left behind as we move forward.

I furrow my brow and try to match my pace with Harry's, striving to find an explanation. However, he keeps moving with determination and doesn't even turn around, knowing I'm still following him.

I identify the nearest exit door and decide to stop him at that moment. I pull his arm and hold it close to me, causing his pace to halt, and he finally turns to look at me.

"Where are we heading?" I inquire.

"I'll buy you a drink," he simply responds with a shrug, implying that the answer should be obvious.

"But I thought—" my words are interrupted by a sidelong gesture from him as he answers: "Those there aren't good".

My eyes narrow in suspicion. "Did you even try them?" I ask.

"I heard some comments," he says, shrugging his shoulders again.

Harry doesn't wait for me to say more and takes advantage of the grip I still have on his arm to grab my wrist, pulling my body slightly to keep walking.

The door of the lounge is opened by the security personnel guarding it, and the night breeze intensifies around me, leaving the noise of the music behind.

Once the doors close, I can appreciate the difference between the white lights coming from one of the main parking lots of the venue and the various luxury cars parked all over the place. Harry leads us to one of them, specifically a Range Rover that is slightly separated from the other cars. His hand releases my wrist and goes in the opposite direction of the car, letting me pass alone to the other side. I stay there for a few seconds, watching his interaction with the driver until he returns to my side, opens the back door, and lets me go first. I express a "thank you" in response and get into the car.

The journey turned uncomfortably silent, allowing me to settle at one end of the fine leather seat as I watched the city streets materialize around us through the polarized windows. My grip on my bag occasionally intensified, fidgeting with my fingers in an attempt to calm my nervousness.

The moment inside the lounge replayed in my mind, with Joe's brown eyes fixed on me, probably witnessing my exit with Harry. However, all the concern faded, carried away by the same tide to which I was willingly submitting. It's at that moment I hear my companion's voice, alerting me that we have arrived.

Harry steps out of the car first, unexpectedly assuming the role of a chauffeur as he opens the door and takes my hand while helping me descend. I feel his warm touch, contrasting with the multiple rings adorning his fingers. A chill runs down my spine, accentuated by the surrounding breeze.

The environment seems colder than usual, permeated by the salty aroma, and the presence of several yachts parked around the area makes it even more apparent. I furrow my brow, directing my gaze to the man beside me, who seems immune to my gesture and keeps his eyes straight ahead.

What the hell am I doing here?

"Where are we?" I inquire. More out of the need to know, I do it with the desire to get a genuine explanation from him.

It's only then that Harry turns his gaze back to me, revealing a hint of mischief in his eyes.

"I thought it was obvious by the yachts around us," he replies. At that moment, his figure starts to move, and I realize the car has withdrawn. The cool breeze surrounds us as I shift my attention to the majestic yachts practically next to me. One more luxurious than the other, with a shiny appearance, but this only serves to increase my confusion.

"I mean," I begin to say as I follow him down the wooden path, causing my heels to resonate more loudly. "I know where we are, but why are we here?"

Harry instinctively turns, throwing me a brief look before responding, "Because I owe you a drink". My gaze intensely connects with his, and I notice one of his dimples forming again due to his smirk. "What?"

"This is not a bar," I reply, pointing out the obvious at that moment. Our steps are the only response I continue to receive until, after what seems like a few minutes of walking, we stop in front of a particular yacht.

It was almost as extensive as the others, presenting itself with at least three sections from this perspective, equally white and gleaming, illuminated from the outside and showing only a glimpse of its interior. However, this one stood out even more among all, displaying the initials "HS" on the front, which leads me to connect the dots and take a closer look at the owner that I now recognize.

"What better than having a drink in the middle of the ocean, don't you think?"

For some reason, I choose silence as a response and wait for Harry, once again, to help me climb the stairs leading inside the yacht.

Inside, the opulence becomes even more evident. The bow presents itself as an illuminated catwalk, even equipped with spacious sofas for comfort. The interior looks almost like a small apartment, also furnished, with a table and chairs for any meal one might want to enjoy. A carpet covers the entire floor, softening the sound of my heels, while some ornaments decorate the space, highlighting the golden details around.

"Make yourself at home," I suddenly hear Harry say from behind, taking me by surprise. I turn my head instantly, slightly bumping into his face, as I see him enter the space. Finally, I notice that in the background, behind a partition, there is a wide stool that seems to be part of the kitchen and, in turn, the bar with a variety of drinks on display welcomes my presence. Harry's body is disappearing into that area, blending in and leaving me alone at the entrance.

A sigh escapes my lips as I sink into the spacious sofa. I check my bag, opening it to take out my phone and heading straight to Ally's contact. The call doesn't ring until the third tone, by which time I already hear the music hitting my speakers, forcing me to move the phone slightly away from my ear.

"Maddy?" I finally hear my friend say. "Where the hell are you?"

"I'm fine, calm down," I reply. "I came with a— Um," at that moment, I didn't know what to say. I had called to assure her that I was okay, but I hadn't considered the most obvious: what would I tell her if she asked what I was doing? I couldn't just spill the situation, as that would prolong the conversation, and the last thing I wanted was for Harry to hear all the details as if it were a gossip show. I quickly think of a response before Ally starts to suspect. "With a friend I met backstage, and we came for a drink at a... small nearby bar so no one can make assumptions," I conclude. I bite my lower lip as I hear Ally's response materialize on the other side of the line.

"Do I know that friend?"

"Uh," I hesitate for a moment before responding, genuinely trying to stop lying altogether. So I say, "Yes, probably". But before she can ask more questions, I interrupt her. "I'll tell you later".

"That's fine," she replies. I hear the music around her slightly fading, suggesting that she's stepping aside to get more privacy. "But is he at least hot?" she asks. And I have no idea what to answer.

I swallow as I look back into the yacht, watching Harry's broad back and curls from a distance. Even meters away, he appears unperturbed, and curiosity fills my instincts again. I hide my lips and look straight ahead.

"A bit," I reply.

"Alright," she responds. "Let me know if you need me to pick you up or something, I'm here for you".

"I know, there's no need to worry," I reply. "Are you going back with Robert?" I ask, knowing that now only my driver remains to ensure she gets to her own apartment safely.

"Well..." I hear a small laugh from her, and my eyebrows raise as I wait for her response. "I think I'm heading somewhere else too".

"Oh..." A shared laughter joins the conversation. "Okay... I understand," I nod through the call. "I'll wait for the details".

"I'll be waiting for yours too. Goodbye," I hear her slightly dragging the words, so I simply respond with a goodbye and hang up.

It seems I wasn't the only one who had an unexpected encounter.

A few minutes passed as I dedicated myself to look around, putting my phone back in my bag. At that moment, I hear the partition opening, with a subtle but attention-catching sound making my head turn in its direction.

Then, I see Harry holding two glasses in his hands, bringing one towards me and keeping the other.

The liquor has a hue similar to pink, sharpening my curiosity as I bring it to my lips. The sip results in a bittersweet taste, immediately recognizing the mix of vodka and strawberry.

"It's really good, thank you," I comment as I continue to feel the subtle sweetness on my lips. I sense the sofa slightly sinking under the weight of someone else a few meters away, as if they were trying to maintain a distance. Harry leaves his drink on the table in front of us, watching me as I continue to drink.

It truly was delicious, but I no longer knew what else to say besides continuing to sip. So, I decided that the moment might be more bearable if I introduced some alcohol into my system. That would be the only way to stop thinking about the look Harry was giving me at that moment.

"Now we can address what you mentioned in that room," I hear his rough voice through my ears, awakening any instinct as I pay attention. "You seemed very confident in stating that I tried to steal your presentation".

"Wasn't that the case?" I inquire in response, finally placing my glass with the drink less than halfway on the table, right next to his. "It doesn't make sense for you to deny it. And neither do I have any point in remembering it". I tell him. A silence hangs between us, leaving his response in the void as an idea forms in my mind. At this point, the liquor has started to take effect, and although I'm not seeing blurry nor unconscious by any means, my filter disappears. And I really have no objections to that, as it is exactly what I wanted.

"I propose something," I start, capturing his attention with a steady gaze into his green eyes, which seem filled with curiosity, not really anticipating what I'm about to say. "For tonight, I'll leave all that behind, and you won't mention it with the intention of annoying me."

"Do I do it to annoying you?" he asks, laughing, one that highlights his dimples again as he shakes his head expressively and approaches the table to reach for his glass.

"You really have difficulty recognizing what you do, don't you?" I inquire, tilting my head to the right.

"That's all you assume," he responds.

"All you don't admit," I retort.

"Now you're calling me a liar," he comments after taking another sip of his drink. His words are laced with more sarcasm than usual, and his cheeky smile becomes more evident. "After you've had a drink, that's a bit disrespectful".

"Tell me a truth," I suddenly say, catching him completely off guard for a moment. His eyes meet mine directly, squinting slightly and raising his chin a bit. I watch as his tongue passes over his lips, moistening them and giving them a natural shine, before he answers: "I watched your performance".

"Now, a lie,"

A smirk begins to form on him, and then he replies, "I watched your performance".

Unexpectedly, a smile of my own appears on my face.

"I think it's your turn now," he tells me. I nod my head and inhale a bit of air before settling into my seat, allowing my dress to rise slightly and reveal more of my thigh. I don't bother to fix it, noticing Harry's gaze descending before realizing that I'm watching him.

And then another idea crosses my mind.

"Let's make this more interesting," I propose. "The loser will take off an item of clothing".

Harry's eyebrows raise in surprise, but quickly lower, leaving his expression showing only curiosity.

"Are you sure?" he questions.

"Of course," I reply without hesitation, reaffirming my confidence.

Harry responds with a small sigh, settling into the sofa, letting his body sink a bit more into it. He adopts a pose by resting his arm on the backrest and slightly opening his legs for comfort. In the whole process, I can't help but observe him.

"I didn't know that bold side of you, Maddy," he suddenly mentions my nickname, leaving me with a slight frown, wondering how he knew. "Who would've thought".

"On the contrary, I feel like I know a lot about you," I reply in a lower tone.

"Oh, really?" he asks, matching my tone. A playful smile forms on my face as I nod.

"Yes," I start, leaning slightly closer to him. My knees press into the sofa, and my hands sink into it as I slowly approach his body in a crawling position. I focus solely on following Harry's eyes, which darken, taking on the same tone as the night that envelops us, abandoning the green they briefly exhibited. I stop at the level of his knees, not directly colliding with them, and then I also rest my arm on the back of the sofa.

"You're narcissistic," I murmur, allowing silence to settle between us as my words hang in the air. "You enjoy being the center of attention, and when someone doesn't give it to you, you seek it at all costs," I continue. "That's why you brought me here. You can't stand that I won't surrender to you for real".

Silence settles between us again, but this time I feel the atmosphere becoming denser. Despite the breeze, I experience how heat floods my body, reddening my cheeks and forcing the opening of my lips to facilitate the circulation of oxygen. As for Harry, watching each of my movements with his eyes, which still retain their dark color, observing me with precision.

His lips receive another moistening from his tongue before he responds: "Aren't you already doing it?" he asks, his voice deeper than usual.

"You lost," I retort. A look of fake disappointment forms on my face, followed by a smile that I can't hide. "You know what that means".

Harry doesn't say anything for a few more seconds, until I finally notice one of his dimples returning on his cheek as he lowers his gaze. And with a final nod, he replies, "If you insist".

The minutes keep ticking away, and the atmosphere becomes hotter as Harry's clothes disappear. I always trusted my statements, no matter the question, and thanks to my certainty in words, Harry accepted his defeat in most of the rounds.

However, things took a turn; my glass was already empty, and my embarrassment vanished with it. This time, I was more than obvious, allowing the only garment that played against me, my dress, to disappear from my body when I admitted defeat, leaving me in lingerie. Harry simply watches the moment as I stand up from the sofa to make it easier to remove my dress. My lace set is black, with small flowers adorning the edges.

I leave the dress on the sofa and approach to return to my place, but Harry's hand lands on my wrist, stopping me as I look at him.

My breathing starts to become irregular, accentuated by his touch that intensifies it. I watch as Harry rises from his seat, standing in front of me, highlighting once again our height difference, but closing the gap nonetheless. His cool chest impacts against mine, brushing against me in a contact I eagerly await. I feel anxious to experience more, and Harry seems to sense it, patiently waiting to take my neck with his palm, sliding his right thumb over my lips. In an instant, I part them slightly, allowing the gentle touch of his fingertip to meet my mouth and eventually take its place inside.

My lips wrap around his finger, caressing it with my tongue as a circular motion saturates it with saliva, all of this under Harry's watchful gaze from above.

And at that moment, when I feel I can no longer bear the pressure and try to move away to take the next step, Harry tightens his grip on my neck, placing his entire palm around it, leaving me immobile for a moment and allowing my breath to come out with slight difficulty through my mouth. I can feel my heart beating harder, and at this point, I have no doubts that he can hear it too. His palm raises my neck, placing his face inches from mine. My gaze lowers and rises in an expectant rhythm, watching his lips and returning to his eyes, a rhythm that keeps me restless, asking for more, craving more, and only calming when his face takes on the expression I desire. His gaze, changing in the darkness of the night, follows me, and my agony comes to an end when his lips meet mine.

A passionate, desperate, thirsty kiss fills me, complementing my body and intensifying my sensations. My hands become explorers, and he satisfies them as I touch his body, tracing his face, reaching his hair, pressing him more against me, if only it were possible.

Harry, for his part, releases his hold on my neck and descends down my body just as unrestrained, exploring every corner of my body with his touch. He moves across my back with intensity, brushing with delicacy and eliciting a moan from me during our kiss. His rings are still cold, becoming more evident as he descends, exerting pressure on my skin and possibly leaving marks due to their firmness. Although I wouldn't admit it out loud, I wished it to be so, especially on my buttocks, where his pinkie and ring fingers, adorned with his significant initial rings, exerted pressure.

The kiss becomes careless, causing us to separate slightly in search of air. Harry takes advantage of this to grab my hips, and in an unexpected move for me, he turns me, allowing my body to fall and press me forcefully against the table in front of us.

My face and palms are pressed against the glass, adjusting to the space, although I have no complaints about it. My senses intensify, perceiving Harry's body behind me with strength, and even more noticeably, his erection protruding from his boxers, pressing firmly against me.

My eyes begin to close, surrendering to the sensation even when my underwear remains a barrier between us. However, as seconds pass, desperation takes over me again; the dripping of my fluids only increases, and my hips begin to move as a signal. But Harry takes care of putting an end to it, pressing my hips once again and, this time, letting his palm strike forcefully on my buttock.

I can't contain a scream that escapes from me, while my hands desperately search for something to hold onto. I realize that the smoothness of the glass plays against me, and I can only try to hold on firmly to the table.

I feel the tingling on my skin, probably already reddened, but it is soothed by Harry's palm, which moves gently around, in a dangerous massage that approaches and moves away from the area that needs it the most. His fingers intertwine with my underwear, slightly raising the fabric and allowing the breeze from the surroundings to reach that part. Another moan escapes from my lips, and I close my eyes, surrendering to the sensation.

"It looks so good on you," I hear his voice near my ear as he continues exploring the fabric, causing a shiver to run down my spine. "It's a shame that it's getting in the way right now".

It's at that moment when I hear the fabric's crunch, and my eyes open immediately. Harry doesn't give me time to react as I feel his erection finally pressing against me. Touching me, but this time without restrictions, he maintains an ascending and descending rhythm while moistening it with my own fluids. The sensation is pleasurable, so much so that my lips part more, and sounds of satisfaction resonate throughout the bow.

My mind focuses exclusively on the sensation, paying attention to every movement, and I join in with my hips. Harry keeps his firm grip on them until, at one point, I feel him distant. I don't perceive his touch with mine, and a pout forms instantly on my lips. I turn slightly towards him and see that he has a condom package in his hands, already starting to open it.

My pout becomes more evident, emitting a sound that draws his attention back to my face. I know it's the right thing to do, and yet surprisingly I find myself feeling disappointed by this when I should be grateful; but considering that I am free from any disease, perhaps I expect the same from him.

Harry watches me for a few seconds before lowering the condom, half-open, and looking at me attentively.

"I have no doubt that you're safe, but are you taking care of yourself?" he asks. My heart starts to beat rapidly as I nod immediately.

"Should I doubt that you're safe too?" I inquire in response, just to be reasonably sure.

"I can show you my certificate another day if you wish," he says, showing a serious expression that indicates his proposition is genuine. A smile escapes from me.

"Do you come with a pedigree?" I jokingly ask. Then his gaze changes once again, observing me with darkened eyes.

And I feel Harry's response materialize in a smack that elicits a moan of pain and pleasure from me.

"Damn," I mutter through gritted teeth.

"Very funny," he replies in turn.

The moment is brief, with his anger disappearing or maybe intensifying when the first penetration takes place.

A moan escapes from me, intensifying as the thrusts become more frequent. Harry shows no mercy, much less moderates his strokes. He grips my hip with one hand while the other presses into my lower back, pushing me harder against the table with each thrust and leaving me adrift with each impact.

"Fuck, Maddy," his simple voice, mentioning my nickname again, provokes a sigh that escapes my lips, being carried away by his movement. "You feel so good".

My eyes struggle to stay open, wishing to truly absorb the moment in all my senses but becoming increasingly difficult as the intensity builds.

The upper part of my underwear still rested on me, but now the fabric becomes uncomfortable as my body craves the slightest freshness to contrast with the moment. Apparently, I wasn't the only one seeking it, as Harry, as if reading my thoughts, shifts the hand that was on my back to my bra, and in a swift motion, unclasps it, freeing my body.

I feel his torso press against my now exposed back, lifting me slightly and allowing his hand to fit perfectly on my bare chest. I bite my lower lip once again with such force that it anticipates the possibility of blood in my taste.

Harry's caress feels soft on my skin, creating an absolute contrast with his movements inside me. Occasionally, his roughness manifests fully when he lightly squeezes my nipples, making the sounds coming out of my mouth more pronounced as he advances.

"Do you want to tease me again?" his voice emerges as I drop the question and focus on the sensation. "Come on, pretty girl, talk to me," he insists once more, trying to provoke a response. I bite my lip, holding back a smile, aware that I am getting into a small dangerous game at that moment.

Harry's grip intensifies, pressing against my skin, probably realizing the dynamic that was unfolding.

"Or do you prefer me to call you a slut?" the simple suggestion makes my back arch, revealing my immediate response, and I hear a husky laugh from his part. "Is that what you are? A little slut who enjoys my cock filling you?" another moan from me manifests in the space, representing my own thoughts.

"Does it feel good, huh?" Too good, I wanted to respond, but once again, I chose to hide my lips between my teeth. Then, I feel my hair being pulled sharply, lifting my body from the table and leaving me in an arched position. My buttocks rise, and the sound of the collision of our skins becomes more evident.

"I bet that idiot you had as an ex didn't even get close to this," I hear him say, and actually, far from worrying about the mention of my ex, the unspoken response to his statement is more than evident in my body.

Harry personified desire in its purest form, and the longing for more became evident in each of our encounters. I hadn't realized this until this moment when I felt him hitting inside me, holding me firmly, talking dirty to me. This was all I needed.

I hear Harry's breath in my ear, intense enough to reverberate in my senses and take me to experience a deeper level than I thought I could reach in my whole body. The adrenaline keeps rising in me, reflected by the thin layer of sweat on my skin, completely undoing the smoothing I once had.

My hands, full of desperation, try to move backward in an attempt for contact. However, Harry's firm grip on me makes this almost impossible; daring to move on my own would mean losing balance completely.

I have no sense of how much time has passed, with the only sound being the echo of my moans mixed with his in the space, when I feel everything come to a complete stop. I turn my head towards him, seeking his gaze and finding it with an amused expression that he doesn't even try to hide.

"Keep going," I demand in a whimper, but Harry ignores my words, still watching me and still inside me. "Damn it, Harry, continue," I express this time with annoyance. For his part, Harry tilts his head to the side, looking at me expectantly.

"Not even a please?" he asks.

A sigh escapes from me. I don't hesitate to do it. Honestly, at this moment, anything was valid for me; I just wanted to feel him again.

"Please, please," I murmur to him. The plea makes his eyes darken once again more than usual, and his gaze reflects the quickness of the change in his expression. "Continue, please".

I don't even finish speaking when Harry pushes his cock once again into me, with a speed that equals or surpasses the previous one. My grip tightens on the table, holding on with strength and trying to endure as much as I could.

"Tell me a truth, Maddy," I hear him say in my ear. "Tell me how you feel. Tell me you need this as much as I do". His words express an assertion, being confident as always, and if I had been fully conscious, I would have laughed just to tease him. However, now I felt like I was levitating and was willing to follow every order he gave me just to keep feeling him.

It was surprising to admit that his effect really caused this, the nullification of my own reason, yielding to his, and letting myself be carried away by the waves of the same ocean we were in. That was Harry, the whirlpool I willingly submitted to, just to experience another taste.

At least, for this night.

"Tell me, or I'll stop". I hear his threatening voice, and before I can articulate a response, I feel the firm pressure of his hands on my hips, urging me once again.

"Holy shit," I manage to say, gripping the table tightly. My head tilts back, feeling his own chest behind me as he advances in his movements. I can't form a coherent sentence without being interrupted by the pleasant sensation. As his movement continues, I pray for him not to stop; therefore, his name escapes my lips, expressing a single plea that I hope satisfies him, although with Harry, we both know it will never be enough.

"Come on, pretty girl," he repeats that nickname that sends a shiver down my spine once again. "Tell me a truth or you'll lose again".

"It feels so good," I finally utter, albeit still with difficulty. "Don't you dare stop," I warn, hearing a low chuckle in response. "I'm so close".

"Come," he responds immediately, accelerating his pace inside me, causing my eyes to close. "Let me feel how you tighten around me".

"Come with me," I manage to say only.

"You don't have to ask me twice," I hear his response in my ear.

The intensification of his thrusts makes them more rhythmic, marking a strong beat that increases the collision between our naked bodies. My head continues arched backward, but this time it remains immobilized by his arm around my neck, holding firmly in the precise place. The pressure is strong enough to be felt, but still allows me to breathe without too much difficulty. However, this complicates as I feel my movement synchronizing with his, my hips coming to life on their own as I approach the peak of pleasure in my life.

Tears run down my cheeks, leaving a salty taste on my lips, inevitably absorbed while my mouth emits moans or seeks air. The walls of my pussy begin to contract, and I can feel the pulsations inside me from Harry's cock, indicating that he is as close as I am.

I couldn't help but wish that he would come before me, longing to experience his reactions firsthand. However, the inevitable happened.

I felt a sensation of warmth rising through my body, wrapped in an electricity that made me move more restlessly and carelessly. My moans became louder, and finally, I experienced the tension bursting around me. I was unable to feel anything other than my own release and the overwhelming sense of satisfaction that invaded me.

Harry's grip relaxes on my neck, releasing it and allowing my body to fall back onto the table. It is at that moment, when I finally find myself able to regain awareness of my surroundings, that I can feel Harry's body leaning against mine, embracing me gently with his posture and holding me with delicate gestures.

The synchronization of our own breaths takes at least a few minutes, during which we both maintain our positions and experience an immediate sense of relaxation that extends throughout our bodies.

The minutes seem to prolong, and fatigue envelops me, allowing me to perceive only the freshness of the night breeze as Harry pulls away. I feel his touch on my legs, wiping me with what seems to be paper and holding me to prevent me from falling. Finally, I let myself fall on the couch, backed by him, and let myself be carried away by exhaustion, while Harry's green eyes are the last thing I see before everything plunges into darkness.

The whisper of the sea and the movement of the waves wake me up, and I realize that the night has given way to the blue morning sky around the yacht.

My drowsy eyes struggle to accurately perceive the environment until I focus on the table in front of me, which seems to be located farther from its usual position, several meters away from the scattered chairs in the place.

Memories of the previous night assault me at once with this landscape, leading me to look up and meet the serene face of a sleeping Harry beneath me.

I contemplate some of his curls falling onto his forehead, while I realize that his face has small marks from my dark lipstick. A faint smile forms on my lips as I try to move in my position without waking him.

In my attempt, I look around again, noticing that my bag is also scattered on the floor and has started buzzing similar to my notifications, which doesn't cease.

My brow slightly furrows, trying to distance myself carefully from Harry once again until I finally manage to and take my bag in my hands, pulling out my phone.

The time is revealed to me, noticing that it might be due to the various notifications that were coming in. On the screen, I see messages from some friends, numerous missed calls from Ally and Sandy, and a last message from an unknown number.

I access the last message from Ally, finding her response that she is already home and noting a drastic change this morning, or more precisely, since dawn. Her messages started with capital letters and filled the chat with about twenty monosyllables, culminating in a final message begging me to explain what was happening.

I didn't fully understand until I decided to open the link she attached to the message. Then, a note from People magazine opens in my browser, with my profile face and the image of a smiling Harry next to me.

I close my eyes for a moment. I should have anticipated that this would happen.

Inevitably, I continue scrolling down the page, and a big headline appears, accompanied by more photos of me getting into his black car and disappearing with Harry, leaving no trace of us throughout the night.

«CAUGHT IN A SPECIAL NIGHT Has Madison Moore decided to leave behind the melancholic romance and opt for vibrant pop? Discover the latest details about the encounter between the star girl and none other than Harry Styles.»

Shit.

#harry styles fandom #harry styles smut #harry styles imagine #one shot harry styles #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry smut #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic recs #harry styles smutty fanfic #one shot smut #one shot

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wherewolf · 11 months

Text

the responses i’ve seen to shiv’s ending seem very quick to write her off as just another sad victim of the cycle, which isn’t without truth BUT!!! that is not even remotely the summation of shiv’s story.

i don’t think she votes yes to “save kendall” or to try to finally set her brothers free. and i don’t think her main concern was that ken was becoming their dad. she absolutely noticed and didn’t love it, but that was not her motivation in betraying him. she was thinking about herself.

it’s tempting to make a martyr out of her as she is the only female child and we see her suffer the onslaught of misogyny that comes with that. but to make her into a saintlike figure who got beat takes away the power and intelligence behind her decision.

at this point she’s stuck between two non ideal choices, but she recognizes that they have accidentally made her the single most important player in the game. because while she can’t have the outcome she’d prefer, she has the power to decide the fates of everyone else. the written off lone woman now holds in her hands the fate of every man in her life.

so she thinks about the long term benefits of both options and realizes that one side leaves her completely without any leverage.

her brothers have proven to her multiple times in the last few days alone that they will cut her out and walk all over her the first chance they get. siding with them leaves her nothing to bargain with. she would just have to hope that ken would actually take care of her. and that level of vulnerability is not only unacceptable to her, it’s stupid. and shiv fuckin roy is not stupid.

so she thinks about the other side and about what she actually wants for her life. and against her better judgment, it’s becomes unfortunately clear that she wants tom. the way she wants him is not altogether loving or even good but it is necessary to her. she sees relationships as having winners and losers and she chose this man specifically so that she could be confident in her ability to win. except now he’s grown some balls and made himself unavailable to her.

she may not like the way her husband is evolving but she already placed her bets on him, so she’s sure as hell not losing to him now. there’s also a part of her that feels intrigued by this new man she’s married to. it’s interesting to have a sparring partner in him instead of having to looking for excitement outside of their marriage.

so for maybe the first time ever, she processes what tom has said to her and thinks about what he actually wants.

he needs her to prove that she cares. he needs to know that she is capable of sacrifice. if she can’t find it within herself to do this for him, then she will lose him, and by extension, she will lose.

siding with tom gives her the opportunity to once and for all make a grand-stand gesture of love, but more importantly, it creates leverage for her. never again will he be able to hold the moral high ground over her head. never again can he say she doesn’t love him. never again can he call her selfish or uncaring. above all, he can never betray her again, because she just removed all of his moral justification for turning on her. he doesn’t realize it yet, but she’s just taken back all the power in their relationship. just in a more subtle way than she’s used to operating.

and just like that, she has the ceo of a multi billion dollar company in her pocket, while situating herself as the only descendant of logan roy to still be playing the game, having removed her brothers from the equation permanently. she may still be far from the top but she’s creating a path for herself to climb.

so yes, she’ll let tom play king for a day, and she’ll have his baby and say “congratulations,” and play the gracious wife, but tomorrow is a new day with lots of room to maneuver. and when her husband puts out his hand, she’ll place her own on top. but she won’t grasp it because she doesn’t need to.

#🐺#shivy’s gonna be just fine #okay this ended up being a very long post but #i feel like someone needed to point out her wins #also i’m fully aware that remaining in the toxic world of the family business is not a win rly but #i think her ending is being interpreted as powerlessness #which it is NOT #she chose her spot. she’s calling shots #she may not have won today but she sure as hell didn’t lose #let’s not work so hard to sanctify her that we remove everything about her that makes her such a brilliant character #succession #shiv roy #siobhan roy #scn #tv

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imbored1201 · 3 months

Note

hiii!

could you write something where teen r lives w ona and is always attatched to her but then lucy moves in with her and now r is upset bc she has to actually use her own bed and ona ends up buying a new bed or something.

Ona’s Follower

Lucy x Ona x Teen Reader

Word Count: 2k

Yours and Ona's bond ran deep; the two of you had played in Manchester together. You were just 15 when you started playing with her; it was your first season coming from the academy, and she convinced you to move to Barcelona with her.

She always took care of you, and you practically followed her everywhere. She enjoyed the company though, teaching you everything, like how to cook her favorite Spanish dishes and even trying to teach you Spanish.

You feel the moment you really got attached to Ona was when she comforted you because of your frequent nightmares.

The two of you ended up being roommates when staying at a hotel with the United girls.

You had hoped you wouldn't get a nightmare. That didn't go your way, considering you had one.

You were woken up by Ona, who held you that night, and the next night, you had another one.

Back at the apartment, you continued to sleep in Ona's bed. You realized sleeping with Ona helped you a lot since you stopped having nightmares, and it turns out Ona hated being alone in a bed to the point she had a lot of stuffed animals on her bed while she slept so she didn't feel alone.

It was a huge win for both of you.

————

You noticed something was going on between Ona and Lucy. Lucy was coming over every day now. You would always find them cuddling on the couch, and she would even pick you guys up to take you to training and games.

You liked Lucy; she was funny and always brought you candy, and you always destroyed her in FIFA, so it was fun.

————

Then the next step happened. Lucy moved in. You were panicking, to you, that meant you and Ona couldn't sleep in the same bed anymore. That made you disappointed, even sadder, watching Lucy unpack all her things. The good thing about it was that you were able to see Nala every day now.

"Want to help me build this?" She was referring to a new dresser she had gotten. "Sorry, Luce, I need to go riding around." Lucy grinned, happy you were actually using the bike she had given you.

Ona was always complaining that you spent too much time in your room, so Lucy got you a bike, hoping it would motivate you to get out and go around the city.

That bike ride took a little bit longer than you intended. You did get caught up in your own head because, by the time you knew it, it was nighttime. Way past your cerfew.

————

"Ona, calm down; she's fine; she probably just got caught up." Ona's eyes widened. "What if she got caught up doing something she isn't supposed to?" Lucy sighed, regretting her word choice.

"Ona, she's a good kid; she knows not to do anything bad. She'll be back soon; you're tired; come on." Lucy led her to bed. Ona continued to stare down at her phone, waiting for any little text from you.

She spent a couple of minutes lying down in bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. "She has a key, Ona. Come on, you have to let the kid do her own thing at times. She'll be back soon; if it makes you feel better, I'll stay up and wait for her." Ona sighed and nodded.

By the time you got home, Lucy had already fallen asleep. She did wait an hour though; she was worried too, but once she finally received a 'I'm okay' text from you, that worry went away, and she fell asleep spooning Ona.

Once you finished your routine, you went to Ona's room. It was just a habit of yours at that point, and when you saw her and Lucy sleeping cuddled up in bed, something burned up inside you. Jealously and sadness. Tears started to build up in your eyes

You know it was probably childish, but it was just something you were used to. Ona had been your anchor; every time something went wrong, you went running to her. With Lucy there now, you felt like you couldn't do that anymore.

You gently closed the door and walked to your room. It was weird sleeping in your own bed for once. You hadn't done that in forever; you grabbed one of Ona's hoodies that you stole and laid down, using it as a pillow. You hoped you wouldn't have a nightmare and fell asleep.

————

Lucy was the first to wake that morning; she hated to admit it, but she completely forgot she didn't see you come the front door; she got lost in admiring Ona's beauty to remember.

When Ona stirred, the first thing that came to her mind was you. She thought about last night and quickly sat up, not needing any time to fully wake up.

Lucy noticed Ona's panicked expression when she looked at her. "What?" She asked, getting up. "Where's Y/N?!" She was panicky, walking out of the room to search for you.

Lucy quickly got up and followed her as Ona checked the living room and kitchen. Lucy checked your room, and there you were. Using Ona's sweater as a pillow and holding onto a stuffed teddy bear, Lucy won you at the fair. She even won Ona one, then bragged about being too good at everything.

"Ona, she's in here," she quietly said, gently closing your door. Ona was about to barge into your room, but Lucy gently grabbed her. "She's sleeping." Ona sighed in relief and went back to the kitchen to make apology pancakes for you.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Lucy put her hand on Ona's hips. "Fuck Lucy, we shouldn't have slept in the same bed. I'm sorry. Y/N, she always sleeps with me; the poor girl gets these bad nightmares, and they stopped when she started sleeping with me"

Lucy looked understanding and thought for a little bit. "You know, we need to get a bigger bed anyway; it would be beneficial for everyone and maybe even encourage a little more action," she smirked. Ona raised her eyebrows. "Lucy, we are not talking about sex while there is a child in the bedroom."

"Of course not; that's why we send her to Mapi and Ingrid's. What I'm trying to say is, let's get a bigger bed so she can sleep with us."

Ona's face lit up, and she immediately grabbed her car keys. "I'm going to look at bigger beds," she told Lucy, and left. Lucy quickly took over, smirking to herself for being a genius.

————

That whole day, you only came out to eat the pancakes and for dinner. Lucy took control and barged into your room. You ended up crushing her in FIFA again.

It was now 10 p.m., and you were thirsty, your eyes hurt from playing video games all day, and you had done nothing productive all day. Mostly trying to get used to the fact that your room was actually going to be your room for once.

————

"What's wrong?" Ona asked noticing your frown, you jumped, almost dropping your water. You weren't expecting Ona and Lucy to still be up at this time watching their romantic movies. "Nothing, just thirsty."

"Come watch the movie with us." Lucy made room between her and Ona. You shook your head, "I'm going to bed." Lucy didn't give up, though; she got up and threw you over her shoulders.

"Luce," you whined. She threw you on the couch, and Ona was quick to hug you, so you couldn't get up. You sighed, paying attention to the movie.

You were exhausted by the end of the movie, the comfort of Ona being next to you made it harder to keep your eyes open. You let your head fall against Lucy's shoulder.

"How about you two snuggle in tonight? I'll take the couch. Then we'll go get the thing tomorrow." Lucy winked at Ona at the last part. You were confused but too tired to argue. The bed was being delivered tomorrow morning; it was just up to Lucy to bring it in on her own and build it.

Ona led you to her room, where you collapsed on her bed. “Did you have any nightmares last night?” She asked as she got in beside you. You shook your head, rolling into her body and cuddling into her chest. She wanted to apologize for making you sleep in your own bed that night, but you had already fallen asleep.

————

Once again, you woke up to no Ona. You huffed and got up, stealing a sweater that you were pretty sure was Lucy’s. “Ona?” You called out.

You heard the front door opening and someone grunting. Nala started barking at whatever it was, so you made your way to the noise, thinking it was Ona. You let out a sad sigh when you saw it was Lucy. You loved her, but all the woman made was eggs in the morning, and you wanted Ona’s special pancakes again.

"Where's Ona?" You asked Lucy, who was struggling to bring in a mattress. "Store," she spoke out of breath.

"What are you doing?" You asked. It was pretty obvious, but your brain was way too confused right now, and you had to ask questions. She let out some deep breaths before speaking. "Putting in the new mattress"

"Can I help?" She shrugged. "Sure, pull it," you grunted as you did what you were told. Ona wasn’t actually sure if the mattress would fit through the door; she just hoped it would. "Finally,” Lucy said, when the mattress finally got past the door.

You were Lucy’s helper, playing with the tools, giving her whatever she needed, completely forgetting about your hunger. She proudly patted your back when everything was finished.

"This calls for ice cream." She put a hand on your shoulder and led you out. You looked at her confused, but just went along with it. "I haven’t had breakfast," she shrugged. "It's fine.”

————

"Kid, you know I'm not going to take Ona from you, right?" You paused from where you were eating your ice cream and nodded, but you weren't actually sure how you felt.

"Ona adores you; trust me, in a house fire, she would save you over me." You smiled at that. “But it’s fair; I would save Nala before the both of you."

"You promise you'll take care of her?" She nodded before adding, "I'm going to take care of both of you, I promise." She put out her pinky finger, which you took with yours.

"That's why we bought the new mattress; it's bigger so all three of us could fit on that bed," you had a confused look on your face again, "Won't you be uncomfortable?" Lucy shook her head and let out a little laugh.

“Of course not; at this point, you’re my stepkid, you’re my favorite stepkid, and Nala is my favorite kid." She smiled proudly at that, and you appreciated it in a way. "Thanks, Lucy; I guess I understand why Ona fell for you now." “I’m just charming, ain’t I?” "Nevermind"

————

You still didn’t believe Lucy was actually comfortable with you being there, which is why you got ready to sleep in your own bed again. Lucy broke into your room once again, a rare stern look on her face.

“What are you doing?” Lucy asked, her arms crossed. “I don’t want to disturb.” Lucy once again threw you over her shoulder and carried you to the bed.

She set you down close to Ona who smiled at you.

“Sleep bebita,” Ona spoke, spooning you. Lucy got into bed, leaving you squished in between them. Lucy got closer to you, making you push her away. “You have all that space over there."

“Shut up and let me cuddle you." You rolled your eyes and squirmed away from her, but she felt you relaxing after a couple of seconds. Your eyes were closing, and in a couple of seconds, you were out.

“Thank you for making an effort with her, Lucia.” Lucy nodded as she stroked your hair.

“I’m just the stepdad that stepped up, ain’t I?” Lucy grinned, Ona rolled her eyes, holding you tighter. “Buenas noches Bronze”

#woso x reader #woso community #barcelona femeni #woso fanfics #lucy bronze #lucy bronze x reader #ona batlle #ona batlle x reader

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ktgoodmorning · 29 days

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Silent Communications

(love language series- physical touch)

Mapi Leon x Reader

Inspired by the love language physical touch- The team doesn't know you and Mapi are dating and you struggle to keep it hidden throughout your away game travels

Words of affirmation felt too obvious of a choice for the Mapi fic. I swear that eventually I will manage to write something shorter and less fluffy but today is not that day. Anyways, I'd love any feedback or requests any one has, my inbox is always open.

The rest of the love language series:

Perfect. A.Bonmati x reader. Quality time.

Let me spoil you. C.Coll x reader. Giving and receiving gifts.

Broken. P.Guijarro. Acts of service.

You know I love you. A.Putellas. Words of Affirmation

Masterlist

The team was unaware of your relationship with Mapi. Everyone knew you had been best friends for most of your lives and attributed your closeness to that. They knew you tended to be touchy and cuddly together but still never thought much of it because the two of you had always been that way. It also helped your case being Spanish. They were completely unaware that your relationship had turned romantic. They’d occasionally tease you for your closeness, but it didn’t bother you. You knew they meant no harm and often you were willing to join in joking.

Eight months ago, you and your best friend confessed your feelings for each other. Growing up together, you had only become closer as you got older. It didn’t surprise you. From the time you were a teenager, you knew your feelings for Mapi were different. For a while you couldn’t pinpoint why, it wasn’t until teammates would tease you about how you were “basically dating” that you realized it was true. Or at least you wanted it to be true. You learned to ignore those feelings, trying to preserve your friendship. It was more important to you to keep her close than to act on your feelings. However things changed when you had caught on that she might be feeling the same way. You’d catch her staring at you, looking at you differently than she used to. She’d always be doing little things to help you out- bringing you coffee, carrying your bag for you, buying you dinner. There were little touches here and there that just felt different. It was always small things but felt so big.

The longer you noticed your best friend acting this way, the more it drove you crazy. One day when you were out to breakfast with Alexia, you decided to get her opinion on the matter. You were tired of trying to ignore your feelings. She knew Mapi just as well as you did, and you knew she’d be honest with you. When you asked her if she thought there was any chance of Mapi sharing your feelings, the older woman looked at you like you were crazy. “Isn’t it obvious?” she said. “I thought you already knew, that girl’s crazy about you.”

From then on, your world changed. You left your breakfast date with Alexia to go straight to Mapi’s house- a place that was basically your second home. The two of you had a long conversation, spilling your hearts out to each other. You discussed what you wanted to do, how to move forward. Ultimately you had both decided you wanted to try dating but planned to take things slow, making sure you weren’t doing anything that could risk your friendship in the process.

Things couldn’t have gone better. Your friendship transitioned seamlessly into dating. It was better than either of you could have imagined (and you both spent plenty of time imagining it). In the last eight months, you continued to grow closer in ways you hadn’t even known possible and were happier than you had ever been before.

You had decided not to tell anyone about your relationship. It just seemed easier that way. If people knew about your growing romance you’d have to deal with the media, the criticism of teammates dating, the fans, and any outside opinions that didn’t matter to you. Neither of you wanted any of that, you just wanted each other. You didn’t intend to keep it a secret for this long but somewhere along the way you became accustomed to it and it just felt easier than breaking the news.

A few of your closest friends, as well as each of your families, knew but that was it. It felt like it was only fair to tell Alexia since she had been the one to confirm Mapi’s feelings. Other than her, Patri and Pina were the only other ones on the team to know about your relationship. Before you had gotten better at sneaking around, they had walked in on you mid-makeout session on the middle of your couch. You had forgotten they were even coming over when you and Mapi had gotten a bit distracted. It’s safe to say, after that happened the pair of you were much more careful. Even though it wasn’t part of the plan, it was helpful having the three of them clued in. The group of five spent a fair amount of time together so not having to hide around them gave you a chance to relax.

Typically, you and Mapi were good at sneaking around. Because of how close you had been prior to dating, nobody questioned most of the things you did. As long as you weren’t outwardly kissing or saying anything too cheesy, nobody thought much of it. The only time things became harder was when you were traveling as a team. When you traveled, unless you got roomed together, there was no solace of coming back together when training was over and getting to spend time with just the two of you. It was almost harder when you were around each other so much yet never in the way you wanted.

You had been stuck on the bus far longer than you would've liked. Sometimes you were excited to join the other younger players, playing games and turning the bus ride into a social event. Today wasn't one of those days. You weren’t sure where it was you were even going to be playing, you just knew you were exhausted and cranky. You took a seat by yourself in the front, not really interacting with anyone. Mapi was with the much louder group having fun in the back. She could tell you were tired and wanted to give you some space to sleep. She also knew you enough to know that if you were in a bad mood you were going to be clingy and she didn’t want to accidentally let everyone in on your secret. When there was a lull in conversation, Lucy questioned your girlfriend, giving her a suggestive look, “Mapi, where’s your partner in crime? We don’t usually see you two apart.” It was clear Lucy was teasing but also was genuinely curious as to why you weren’t hanging out with them.

“She’s just taking a nap, probably trying to get away from you, idiota,” Mapi rolled her eyes, trying to cover up that she too was a bit concerned about you. It was unusual for you to isolate yourself. She sent you a quick text to check in with you but when she got no response, she decided she needed to come check on you herself.

When the defender stood up, she knew more quips were coming her way. “Ooooh Mapi? Gotta go check on your girlfriend?” The way Mariona sing-songed this made it clear she was joking but Mapi still couldn’t help but panic. She awkwardly laughed and turned away from the other girls, hoping to hide her blush. Patri and Pina shared a quick look as they knew the comment from Mariona would leave their friend panicking. They did everything they could to hold in their giggling while Alexia glared at them, hoping to make them stop. Nobody else seemed to notice this as they went back to their karaoke and left Mapi alone to join you.

You felt someone sit in the seat next to you, immediately recognizing the scent as your girlfriend. Your eyes were shut, trying to sleep, but failing. The side of her leg pressed up against yours and she gently placed her hand on your knee. It was clear to her that you weren’t asleep because of how much you were moving around, trying to get comfortable. “Hey,” she spoke gently, rubbing her thumb against your knee to get your attention. You slowly opened your eyes and Mapi greeted you with a soft smile. “You okay? You don’t seem like yourself.” she spoke softly, voice full of worry.

You nodded, “yeah, just tired. I didn’t sleep very well last night so I was hoping to sleep on the bus.” You rubbed at your eyes, starting to accept that it wasn’t going to happen.

“Here I’ll stay with you,” you couldn’t help but be grateful at the offer.

Still, you tried to protest, “Maps, no. Go have fun with your friends, I know you like to keep busy on the bus. I’ll be okay.”

The look on your girlfriend’s face made it clear she’d be staying by your side, “Hmm no thanks. We’ll put some headphones on, you can snuggle up against me, it’ll be great. It’ll put you to sleep in no time,” the way she spoke made it clear it was a statement, not a question. It’s not like you would complain, it did sound pretty great. She took your silence as agreement and pulled out her headphones, passing one to you. By the time you had put it in, she had put on a playlist that the two of you had made together. Her arm wrapped around you so you could place your head on her shoulder and use her as a pillow. You couldn’t believe how quickly you fell asleep. Mapi had that effect on you, always putting you at ease.

At some point, your girlfriend had also drifted off. You woke up, still snuggled into her, with her head resting on top of yours, her one arm still around you, and her free hand interlocking yours. This was by far the most comfortable you’d ever been on the bus. You carefully grabbed your phone so as to not wake up Mapi. You had some texts in your group chat with you, Mapi, Alexia, Patri, and Pina. First was a picture from Patri taken from the back of the bus where you could see the tops of your heads lying against each other, you shared earphones hanging between you. It was followed by a text from Pina, “better be careful if you want everyone to keep thinking you’re ‘just friends’ ;) “. You smiled to yourself, knowing she was right, but being too happy right now to care. All you could do was close your eyes and drift back to sleep.

When you eventually got to your hotel and got off the bus, the two of you seemed to be the hot topic of discussion. Everyone was teasing you, first for Mapi giving up her precious social time for you, then for how closely the two of you had cuddled up, and finally for the way your hands remained interlocked as Mapi led you off the bus and into the hotel lobby.

The only downside to Alexia knowing about your relationship was that she knew better than to let you two be roommates on trips like this. You were paired up with Bruna which you really couldn’t complain about, and Mapi got paired with Mariona. With neither of your roommates knowing about your relationship, finding time alone together was about to get much more difficult.

At breakfast the next morning, you went to sit down next to your girlfriend. She stood up to greet you with a hug and a soft kiss on the top of your head. It was likely a bit too long of a hug to be considered friendly but somehow no one commented. Alexia just shook her head, smirking to herself at how obvious you were being. Sitting down at their table, you tried to leave space between you while you ate so as to not raise suspicion, but you should’ve known that it wouldn’t work. Mapi always had to have a hand on you in some way. It was usually subtle, but it sure didn’t make hiding things any easier. You appreciated it though. You liked how she could be talking to anyone and you still knew she was thinking of you. That’s what was happening now as she settled into conversation with Alexia. The silent communication between your touches was better than any words could express.

Your next chance you got to be together wasn’t until after training, back at the hotel. Patri and Pina invited you both to come hang out in their room with them. That’s how you found yourself, laying against Mapi’s chest while she and Patri played FIFA. Her arms wrapped around you tightly while she held her controller in front of you. “Ay, (y/n), did you only come over so you could have time to be all cuddly without the rest of the team around?” Pina quipped at you while you both continued to watch the game, she was somehow both joking and also entirely serious.

Before you could respond, your girlfriend spoke up for you, “hey just be happy this is all we’re doing. We could be making out right now if we wanted to.” She somehow managed to hold you tightly while still playing a close game with Patri. You giggled at how she kept moving under you the more involved in the game she got. “Amor sit still! You’re blocking the screen!” Mapi whined at you, only making you giggle more at how quickly her tone changed. You ended up moving further down to cuddle into her leg so that she could still see. She shot you a glance to make sure you knew she wasn’t actually annoyed with you but relaxed when she saw your soft smile. “Comfortable?” she chuckled lightly at how you burrowed into the side of her leg.

“Did you really have to ask, amor?” you smiled at her before turning back to watch the game she was playing.

All of the sudden you heard the sound of the door opening, making you jump. However when you saw Alexia’s blonde hair round the corner, you quickly relaxed again. “Ooh the lovebirds are here, are you guys just here so you can makeout?” She shot you a smile knowing that you two would always spare them from seeing you be too handsy.

You rolled your eyes playfully at your captain, “you guys always say that but we’ve really only made out in front of you once and it wasn’t even on purpose. And you weren’t even there, Ale!” You sat up a little more so you could see her face.

“Gracias a Dios!” the blonde shot back at you, mirroring your smile.

Deciding to have some fun with this while also taking advantage of this limited time to show affection, you decided to try something. “You know, Ale, if you wanted us to be like that, all you had to do was ask. We sure can…” As you said this, you moved back up in Mapi’s lap and started to slowly leave kisses along the side of her neck. You didn’t want to distract her too much from her game but you also knew how much she’d be enjoying it. Plus you loved a chance to annoy your friends. This time, it was Alexia who started the retching noises. You felt your girlfriend tilt her head to the side to give you more room to continue down her throat, clearly having fun with this. Pina quickly joined in the sound effects when she saw that you weren’t planning on stopping. Finally Patri wanted to know what was going on and took a quick look over at you. Of course she had no choice but to join her friends in their shouting.

What you hadn’t planned on was that the whole scene had distracted Patri just enough to allow your girlfriend the opening she needed to win their game. “Yes!! I won!” You broke apart from her throat as she suddenly shouted. The two of you high fived and shared a real kiss in celebration of your unplanned teamwork. Everyone else in the room just groaned at the two of you, Patri flopping back onto her bed, cursing in Spanish in protest of her loss. You just settled back into Mapi, sharing a couple more short pecks as you did so.

The next day was your match. When you did your morning walk as a team, nobody seemed to notice the way you and Mapi had linked pinky fingers as you went. You wanted to be close and to spend it with her but you knew that holding hands on your team walk would be too much. The pinkies worked perfectly because nobody else could see it past the long sleeves of your jackets.

The match didn’t go as easily as everyone hoped it would. The score was tied 1-1. Barcelona had been winning most of the game but around minute 75, the other team equalized and both teams had been fighting hard for a winning goal ever since. Exhausted was an understatement. You and Mapi were both starters and were in the entire game. All that was on your mind was scoring. You had to. It was 2 minutes into injury time when Aitana made eye contact with you. She was running the ball up the field and you could tell exactly what her plan was as she did so. She slotted the ball through three defenders and directly to your feet. With one touch you sent the ball sailing past the keeper and into the back of the net. The crowd erupted and before you even had time to process, Mapi had run straight to you, beating everyone else as they all headed your way. Immediately Mapi scooped you into her arms, picking you up as she hugged you in celebration. You knew your other teammates had also surrounded you, but to you, it felt like just you and your girlfriend, alone in the middle of the pitch. She continued to hold you up, kissing your cheeks repeatedly. Your other teammates almost got bored of trying to celebrate you because of how much Mapi was keeping you to herself as the game wrapped up. You all made your way around the pitch to thank the fans, while your girl kept you at arms reach, overwhelmed with pride for you.

The two of you were the last ones to enter the changing room, walking hand in hand pulled into her side. Lucy noticed this immediately and couldn’t help but comment, “Jesus, Mapi are you ever gonna share her with us?” You could already see your girlfriend starting to blush as you made eye contact. “Do we get to celebrate with her at all tonight or is she all yours?” The rest of the room laughed and added their own comments but you and Mapi were lost in each other’s stare, having a silent conversation among yourselves.

You gave her hand a tight squeeze, encouraging her to do what you knew you were both thinking. “Alright you caught us,” the defendender sighed, “we’ve been dating for almost eight months now.” You held up your joined hands as if it were proof to show everyone (not that anyone needed it at this point). The room immediately interrupted into cheers. Of course it did, everyone knew how perfect you were for each other. If you had been best friends almost your entire lives, of course you’d make a great couple too. You and Mapi just smiled at each other, giving her hand another squeeze, trying to communicate that this was the right move. You didn’t even notice everyone around you until you were tackled into a group hug with you two at the center of it. It was exactly where you wanted to be- holding onto your girlfriend tight while all your best friends piled in around you, celebrating your love. It was everything you could ever imagine. Mapi was everything you could ever imagine.

The rest of the love language series:

Perfect. A.Bonmati x reader. Quality time.

Let me spoil you. C.Coll x reader. Giving and receiving gifts.

Broken. P.Guijarro. Acts of service.

You know I love you. A.Putellas. Words of Affirmation

Masterlist

Feedback and requests are always welcome! :)

#barca femeni #barcelona femeni #woso imagines #fcb femini #woso one shot #woso #espwnt #mapi leon #espwnt x reader #woso x reader #woso imagine #mapi leon imagine #mapi león #mapi leon x reader #maria leon #wosoreading24/7 #wosoreadingmapi

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cadavercowboy · 11 months

Text

In Too Deep — Part One

Pairing: Stepfather!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Bucky’s marriage is falling apart and he’s desperate for something familiar to cling to. He knows you’re the wrong thing, but you don’t exactly make it easy for him to keep his distance.

Word Count: 6.9k+

Warnings: Explicit content (18+ only). Allusions to emotional abuse. Inappropriate relationship. Implied cheating & cheating. Age difference (reader is over 18!). Brief/vague description of reader’s hair. Moral dilemma. Coercion. Daddy kink. Size kink. Innocence kink (if you squint). Mutual masturbation. Fingering. Handjob. Unprotected sex. Minor degradation. Creampie. Cum play. Cum eating.

A/N: This has been collecting dust in my docs and then this post reminded me of it so I had no choice but to finish ‘er.

Shutting the front door as gently as you can, you wince when your keys clatter loudly against the hardwood floor. You curse under your breath, though the sound of tinny voices floats towards you from the next room and you realize you don’t need to worry about the noise. Bucky is still awake, up late for what seems like the hundredth night in a row. You pick up your dropped keys and toss them on the counter as you pass by, padding quietly down the hall towards the blue glow which reflects off the walls.

You poke your head into the living room and there you find him; slumped into the couch and bathed in the light from the screen in front of him. Even from this distance you can sense the air of defeat in Bucky’s posture and the slight pouting of his full lower lip. A pang of sympathy twinges in your chest as you observe your poor stepfather. All you’ve done lately is go on dates in search of a relationship and all Bucky has done is try desperately to maintain a hold on his; neither one of you seem to be having much success.

While you’re accustomed to your mother’s mistreatment of those around her, he’d innocently and unsuspectedly married his way into what is likely to be the most toxic relationship he’ll ever be a part of. Night after night, Bucky sits there waiting for her to return from her shift at work. Whether or not he truly believes that’s where she is, you’ve yet to determine. Unbelievably — though he deserves much better — Bucky hasn’t left her. Though the man is kind and sweet and has never treated your mother with anything but love, he is too kind or perhaps too stupid and oblivious to stand up for himself.

“Late night?”

Bucky’s rough voice draws you from your musings and you sigh airily as you step around the wall to shuffle towards the couch he sits upon. While you’d much rather head upstairs and take care of that which your date hadn't bothered to, it would be rude not to at least talk to Bucky. You throw your bag onto the unoccupied armchair, rounding the piece of furniture to join him.

“You too,” you observe as you plop down beside him. “Can’t sleep?”

He offers a half-smile as he leans forward and the bottle of beer he’d been nursing thunks onto the coffee table. When he turns your way, his smirk falters; his cerulean irises flicker briefly down the plunging cleavage of the skimpy shirt you’re wearing. Your lips seem a bit swollen, though he can’t be sure the light flashing across your face isn’t just playing tricks on him. Bucky shifts against the cushions and sits up a little straighter, his arm stretching along the back of the couch.

“Never can these days,” he admits, the laugh that follows is weighted with bitterness.

His tone is soft, yet ice cold. You meet his eyes and behind them simmers an ember of pain, the gaze that meets yours is that of a man lost. Maybe Bucky is aware after all. He sees the understanding in your expression and smiles sadly before his lips flatten into a gesture of acknowledgement, of knowing. As you sink into the couch, so too does your heart. You felt bad when you thought Bucky didn't know the truth, though now you feel worse knowing that he does. He turns back to the television with a sad sigh.

“How did your date go?” he queries.

It’s just like Bucky to put aside his own troubles and be curious about your life. You smile fondly as you observe him, shadows dance across his handsome features and the screen illuminates the glassy shine that coats his distant eyes.

While not your father, he’d certainly taken well to filling the role; being supportive and loving and present in a way your own dad never could. You love Bucky like family and that only makes it more difficult to rectify the unspoken and unidentifiable feelings that simmer just under the surface. Something you’ve never once explored, but you’re almost certain Bucky has taken notice of, too. It would be too dangerous, too wrong for either of you to ever acknowledge; though it’s simultaneously impossible to ignore. Good looking and attentive as he is, any woman would be liable to fall victim to Bucky’s charm.

You continue to observe Bucky, noting the distinct heat which rises in your cheeks. You study the way his thick lashes flutter when he blinks slowly, the way his full lips glisten when he licks them, the way his Adam’s apple bobs enticingly along the thick column of his throat. Bucky turns your way and clears his throat expectantly, smiling when you chuckle guiltily and apologize.

“That bad, huh?” he jokes, referring to your lack of a response.

“No, it was…fine I guess,” you offer unconvincingly. “I don’t know. He was kind of boring, actually. There was just no spark. No fire. No passion.”

His teeth sparkle even in the dimness of the room when Bucky laughs at the dramatic way you haughtily enunciate the end of your declaration, extending your arm forlornly towards the ceiling. You laugh along with him, though the sound stops short when the warmth of his hand circles the curve of your knee where your bent leg nearly touches his thigh.

“I’m sorry, honey,” he consoles. “Plenty of fish in the sea though, right?”

“No worries,” you assure him as you flop sideways and prop your head on the back of the couch, pouting sadly. “I’ll just die a lonely and horny old spinster.”

You regret the words almost instantly, blaming your loose lips on the three drinks it had taken for you to soldier through your date. There’s no other explanation for why you would say such a thing to your stepdad.

Although Bucky snorts in surprise at your bold statement, he cannot deny the warm knot that begins to form low in his belly. He’d known your dates weren’t going well, but the confession about your sexual frustration sends his mind reeling down a road he’s well aware he should actively avoid traveling. His smile doesn’t reach his eyes when he pats your thigh in a gesture you suppose is meant to be soothing but only makes you painfully aware of how keyed up you are tonight.

“That’s alright,” he consoles. “Some guys just suck.”

“Some women, too,” you breathe.

Your proclamation elicits a tense moment between the two of you, not a sound in the room beyond the dialogue droning from the tv and the apropos ticking of the grandfather clock in the hall. Bucky’s eyes search yours in the interim, your own mimicking the action as you look for some sort of sign or indication that his mind is careening in the same treacherous direction as yours. You’re certain yours is spinning more wildly out of control than Bucky’s ever could.

His hand remains on your thigh, igniting an unbearable blaze of impermissible desire in your veins that makes you squirm. The only sign of life from Bucky is the gentle flexing of his strong fingers. When the silence grows suffocating, Bucky’s tongue flicks out between his lips and his eyes finally leave yours to instead journey towards your slightly parted mouth. He leans in almost imperceptibly and as he does, his palm slips higher up your thigh until his pinkie finger draws perilously close to the seam of your jeans. Your pulse thrums in your neck and between your legs and the spell is broken by your own startled gasp.

Without a word, you spring to your feet, Bucky’s hand sliding down your leg as you all but leap from his grasp. Your feet thump loudly as you flee from the room, thudding their way up the stairs. You barrel through your bedroom doorway and swing the door behind you, not bothering to make sure it shuts all the way.

You’re inside the safety of your room no more than a few seconds by the time you’ve shed your shoes, socks, and pants; tossing the garments aside while you pace at the foot of your bed and drag your fingers through your hair. Your cheeks puff and you breathe a rush of air as your palms slap against the bare skin of your thighs.

The tight shirt you were certain would show off your body just enough to tempt your date is shed in haste as well, leaving you in only your underwear; sexy and lacy and regrettably unappreciated. In your head, you’re chiding yourself for what an insanely inappropriate notion it is to be so turned on at the touch of your own stepfather. Still, your heartbeat pounds demandingly between your thighs and your need refuses to be ignored.

Climbing clumsily into your bed, your bare skin burns against the coolness of your mussed sheets. Your control is crumbling as you gnaw anxiously at your lower lip. There’s no point in delaying the inevitable any further so you delve a hand beneath the elastic of your panties and sigh contentedly at the immediate relief of your warm fingers. Already surprisingly wet, your fingertips slip easily along your slick and puffy lips.

“You left your—”

Bucky’s presence is preceded neither by a knock nor an announcement; he simply eases the door open, his shocked face disrupting the shadows in the doorway. Your bag tumbles from his hand and thuds dully against the carpeted floor of your bedroom, Bucky’s jaw falling with it. His eyes burn hot and dilate without delay, nostrils flaring as he tips back on his heels; knocked off balance by the depravity of what he’s accidentally happened upon. He knows he should say something, anything; he should apologize, most certainly. But his lips won’t move. His lungs won’t inflate. His throat won’t dare release the words he knows should come.

You scramble frantically, grabbing the small decorative pillow you’d crushed beneath your shoulder blade and pointlessly use the satin square to maintain even a bit of modesty. Speech evades you as well and you’re left staring dumbly at your unmoving stepfather, eyes wide and doe-like in a way that is making this situation much, much worse for him.

Bucky’s lungs finally release the imprisoned oxygen trapped among his ribs and he nearly chokes as he swallows shakily. He tells himself to look away, but his eyes refuse to obey. How could they when they are so graciously being given the privilege of caressing such excess of your beautiful skin; the perfection of your bra-clad breasts swaying with each rise and fall of your chest, the slope of your waist and hips beckoning him to traverse the ethereal lines of your body, the nervous shifting of your shapely legs as you shrink behind your pillow and prudishly attempt to hide yourself from him?

Every part of Bucky’s body screams at him, beseeching and begging for him to turn away; to leave you alone before he steps past a point from which he can’t truly return. Every part aside from one. He cannot ignore the rush of blood that swells his cock beneath the constricting fabric of his jeans. He should, but it is all too overwhelming. Too tempting.

His knees threaten to buckle as he mentally pleads with his booted feet not to move from where they’ve planted themselves in your doorway. The place where the wooden floors of the hall meet the plush carpet of your room serve as an all too literal line he knows should never be crossed. Two little words is all it takes to drag him willingly across that moral divide.

“I’m sorry.”

He doesn’t know if it’s the breathy, wavering voice or the diffident way you bat your big eyes at him, but your tiny utterance draws him in like a moth to a forbidden flame; the inferno of your taboo light prepared to singe his malleable wings. Your next words further erode his dwindling ability to bite back his most loathsome desires.

“I didn’t mean for you to see that,” you murmur, eyes growing teary with apparent embarrassment at having been caught in such a vulnerable position.

Bucky wants to ask, but he knows precisely what you mean. Even if he longs to hear you say the words and admit that you had scurried away to your room to get yourself off, he will spare you the humiliation. At least for now. The quiver of your lip — chewed raw and plump with irritation — and the needy hunger which still clouds your eyes nearly crumbles Bucky to the floor; where he knows he’d find reverence at your feet, clinging to you like a man lost at sea.

His legs carry him trance-like until he stands mere inches from your bed, practically within arm’s reach of your restless and rigid frame. Bucky knows what you need — can read it boldly written in every nuanced flutter of your distraught visage — and he’s willing to dive headfirst into the illicit debauchery to provide. He only hopes you’ll fall with him.

“Can I help you out?” he prompts, knuckles popping as he curls his fists at his sides. “Let me help you, baby.”

Bucky’s own desperation is woven like an intricate tapestry within the inflection of his beseeching words, your stomach tightens at the prospect that he may be just as troubled as you are by the oppressive yearning that has been silently establishing itself between the two of you.

As if attached to a string beyond your control, your head nods disjointedly. Your heart pounds with deafening force in your ears and the rush of blood drowns out all other sound around you. Bucky exhales sharply and you worry for a moment that he’s changed his mind, that he may have come to his senses and might dare to leave you here in this wanton state.

Much to your relief, he kicks off his boots then lifts one knee and presses it into the mattress near your shaking legs, his eyes glued to yours as he looks for any sign of distress. He finds none, instead only able to identify the blazing want that swirls in the blackened pools of your pupils as he settles in and kneels at the foot of your bed.

The warmth of a palm grasping your leg just above your calf makes you flinch and you gasp as if you’ve been burnt. Bucky is quick to hush you, holding your gaze as he gently pulls your legs up and directs your tensed body until you’re eased onto your back, your feet flat and situated between his parted thighs. Bucky’s body is considerably larger than yours, but in this position, his broad frame is even more powerful and formidable than ever. You clutch firmly to the pillow that barely covers your body, your little fingers aching from the force of your grip.

“You’re okay,” Bucky assures you, his voice dipping low and vibrating like a ricocheting shot through each of your nerve endings. “It’s just us. Let me see you, sweetheart.”

He senses your hesitation, though he can see how eager you are to please him as well. The corner of his mouth quirks knowingly and he caresses each of your knees, sliding his calloused palms over your skin in gentle circles before he scoots closer so he can reach the soft plushness of your thighs. His touch settles there for a moment, then moves inward and upward until your legs are forced to part to make room for his sizable hands. Your breath hitches as Bucky inches closer and closer to the apex of your thighs, then changes direction until his hands find your ankles and pull your feet out to bracket either side of his own thighs.

Bucky asks again, tenderly requesting for you to open up for him. And you do; unfurling yourself like a blooming flower, your petals fragile and delicate as you reveal the softest parts of yourself to him. Uncertain what sort of grasp he has on his waning restraint, Bucky defies the ever-present voice that calls out in the back of his head and allows his eyes to fall to the space he’s opened between your legs.

Tucked amid the velvety flesh of your thighs, he finds a light-colored portion of fabric; the gusset of your panties peeking out and undeniably damp. The thin material clings to you like a second skin and he can make out the distinct seam of your cunt through the moist spot that stains it. Bucky swears he could cum from that obscene sight alone. He stares unabashedly at your wet panties and the mere suggestion of what lies just beneath them as if it’s the last sight his eyes will ever have the honor of seeing; devouring each and every detail of the ripe fruit he longs to know the flavor of.

Although he’s done nothing irredeemable just yet, Bucky knows what has already happened will forever change your relationship regardless. For God’s sake, he’s perched at the end of his half-naked stepdaughter’s bed like a lascivious demon of lust, claws prepared to dig deep into her as he fights the urge to drag her off to Hell with him. He gratefully consumes every bit of your nubile body that you present to him, a sacrifice on an altar which he can only hope will be enough to sate the beast inside him. Deep down, he knows it isn’t.

“Do you want to touch yourself for me?” Bucky implores, offering you the option to accept or deny his indecorous solicitation.

Without much further thought, the relentless throbbing in your core prompts you to extract one hand from the pillow still held tightly in your arms. Though the fingers of one hand still hold tight to the silky fabric, the others trail delicately across your lower belly and over your pelvis. Your touch stutters when your fingertips reach the soft cotton of your plain panties, but the flash of triumph in Bucky’s azure eyes encourages you to keep going.

You’re unsure and arrhythmic at first contact with your sensitive folds, fingers pressing apprehensively through the thin barrier of your underwear. When Bucky’s lips part on a heated sigh and his fingers knead your thighs, you swirl your digits more confidently, breath catching in your throat as pleasure prickles under your skin. Your hips twitch upwards into your own touch and Bucky’s jaw tightens, unable to tear his eyes away from the sight of the hand between your gorgeous thighs, much as he wants to look up and see the veil of gratification he knows must grace your face.

Bucky takes all you offer with greed and haste, praying that he possesses the strength not to take more. But more is all he wants. He craves it, he needs it. Palming himself through the detestable material of his jeans, Bucky absorbs every precise flick of your wrist, his mind cataloging each little sound and simper you make beneath the ministration of your own hand. Just as he feared, it isn’t enough.

“Pull your panties to the side,” he demands, his voice sharp and commanding. “I wanna see all of you.”

You both know if you do this — if you allow yourselves to get carried away in such a manner — then there is no going back. As it stands, you can still change your minds and salvage some semblance of a normal relationship; show some discipline and save yourselves from the bitter reality of the betrayal and sin you’re so painfully close to the precipice of.

“I won’t touch you,” Bucky says, as if he senses the source of your worry and his promise might serve to assuage your fears.

And perhaps it would have if your doubts were borne from a place of morality. But they aren’t. You need him to touch you because — loathe as you are to admit the ignominious truth — you want more, too. You want anything and everything he’s willing to give you and then some. So you heed his order and curl your damp fingers around the even damper material of your panties, slowly easing them to the side to reveal your slick center to his ravenous stare. Bucky growls at the sight.

“You’re already so fuckin’ wet, baby,” he grunts, teeth clenched so hard they could crack. “Rub yourself.”

His voice takes on a tone of impatience as he squeezes the girth of his painfully swollen cock through his pants. You obey his request without hesitation this time, gently dragging your fingertips through the juices that have spilled from your core as you rub them up and down. Bucky is keenly aware of the way your fingers seem to avoid your clit. Pushing your legs wider, he settles deeper into his haunches to unlatch his belt and lower his zipper to relieve some of the steadily growing pressure.

“Touch yourself here,” Bucky demands, one hand reaching for your wrist and drawing your hand higher. “Show me how you’d do it if I wasn’t here. Make yourself feel good.”

Admittedly, you’d been avoiding direct stimulation of the bundle of nerves. You’re terrified of losing yourself completely and falling apart beneath Bucky’s scrutinous and watchful eye. It’s obvious from the way he licks his lips and stares you down with intensity that this is exactly what he wants. Even more obvious when you do as he asks and he shoves a hand behind the open zipper of his pants, burrowing under the tight elastic of his underwear to grasp his swelling length.

You begin to wriggle as you touch yourself, your toes curling restlessly into your sheets as your fingers swirl around your sensitive clit. Bucky’s eyes are glued to the motions of your hand, entranced by the subtle sounds of your slick folds as you massage them intermittently. His heart slams against the walls of his chest, beating to the same rhythm of your frantic little breaths and feminine sighs. Your eyes had shut as you slipped into ecstasy, but they fly open when you hear the jingling of Bucky’s dangling belt.

“Gotta touch myself, baby,” he confesses as he pulls his cock free, the weight of it making it bob between his thighs as a fresh rush of blood flows through his veins. “You got me so goddamn hard.”

As he wraps a fist around the thick base of his cock and begins to stroke it firmly, Bucky can’t help the loud and raspy moan that bounces off the walls. He doesn’t miss the way your eyes light up and you lick your lips at the sight of him fondling his impressive manhood; can’t help wondering how little it would take for you to let him have you. When he shifts closer and slides between your parted thighs, he sees the flash of apprehension.

“We can touch ourselves together, right?” he states softly. “I won’t do anything to you.”

He wants to add ‘unless you want me to’, although he allows the amending words to remain unspoken. Your doleful eyes tell him everything he needs to know: you need him — are desperate for him, even — and you’re so deliciously close to breaking. Your whispered request only assures him of that.

“W-will you kiss me?” you peep nervously.

At first, Bucky isn’t sure. You’ve already come this far, but he worries making physical contact with you will rip his shaky control of this situation right out of his hands. Still, he can’t say no when you’ve asked him so sweetly in that innocent little voice of yours and he ultimately gives in.

Leaning over you, Bucky brushes a strand of hair out of your face and tucks it behind your ear; ghosting his fingers along the edge of your jaw until his hand hovers over your mouth and his thumb hooks over your lower lip. You accept it easily, swirling your tongue and suckling gratefully at the long digit as Bucky presses it shallowly in and out of your mouth.

“Is that what you need?” Bucky breathes. “You promise you’ll keep being good for me if I kiss you?”

Nodding both dumbly and eagerly, you pout when his spit-soaked thumb slips free and leaves a trail of saliva down your chin. Though your disappointment is quickly forgotten as Bucky braces a hand on either side of your head and lowers his torso close to yours. His lips part and his warm breath washes over you as his face settles an inch from yours.

He kisses you chastely at first. Several short and slow pecks which you gladly accept are pressed to your soft mouth and you moan against him as you continue to work your fingers over your pulsing center. When he tries to pull back, you chase his lips; your teeth nipping at the plush flesh until he ceases the retreat. Your earnestness causes Bucky to grow impossibly harder and he mashes his mouth against yours. Unsure how you pluck up the courage, you force his lips apart and plunge your tongue into his mouth the second you have the opportunity to do so.

Bucky sinks further into the heated kiss and as he does, the leaking tip of his heavy cock brushes along your thigh, leaving a sticky trail of pre-cum in its wake. He groans brokenly into your mouth at the contact with the silky warmth of your flesh, his abs clenching as he gnashes his teeth against the unexpected stimulation. He looks down at you, nearly snapping when you peer up at him as if you’ve done something wrong.

“Is this okay?” he wonders, steadily pushing his hips forward so his dick grinds against your thigh more firmly. “Feels so fucking good, honey.”

Bucky doesn’t wait for a response or permission, rather he kisses you again and continues to use your soft skin to pleasure himself. It doesn’t matter to you, you’re more than happy to acquiesce in the interest of Bucky’s satisfaction. He assaults your mouth, leaving you panting and breathless as he shifts his hips and his cock moves lower until the crease of your thigh cradles the mass of the thick appendage. Your shocked inhale prompts him to back off only because he knows he’ll have more success if he eases you into it.

You nod your approval when Bucky asks if he can take off your panties, watching with rapt attention as he eases the dampened fabric along the curve of your legs; he lifts them and pushes your knees towards your chest to drag your underwear over your ankles and discard the crumpled material. Heat rises in your face when your legs fall open again and you’re bared entirely to Bucky.

“Wanna see you fuck yourself with those little fingers,” he breathes, barely managing to stop himself from exploding when you nervously bite your lip and wither slightly as you divert your wide eyes. “You gettin’ shy on me, baby girl?”

“A little,” you manage to giggle.

The urge to cover your bare body flees when Bucky swirls his thumb over the head of his cock and curses under his breath. His unflinching stare beckons you to continue obeying him and the way he looks at you as if he wants nothing more than to devour you whole is incentive enough for you to slip your fingers down low and circle your dripping entrance.

Bucky jerks himself with vigor as your delicate digits bury themselves in your pussy, pornographic sounds emanating from your center as you slowly fuck yourself. He burrows a hand under your hips and draws your body closer to his. Heat pulses off of your flesh and he angles his cock so close to your core that he swears he can feel the humidity of your pussy. As you rub yourself more frantically, your knuckles occasionally brush his swollen head, leaving behind slippery beads of pre-cum that seep between your fingers.

You’re dripping wet by now and Bucky notices the tumescence of your flooding arousal shining in the pale moonlight that splashes across your squirming body. He’s so enthralled by the beautifully naughty picture you make that he doesn’t even protest when he feels your curious fingers dancing along the firm ridge of his cockhead. Both of you are too far gone, too torqued up to consider the consequences or even the immorality of what you’re doing.

When you gather some of your slick and smear it over the spongy tip of his dick, Bucky swears he could see sound and taste colors. His ears ring and his head swims, frozen in place by the ineffable sensation of your timid touch. A shiver wracks his body when you begin to wrap a hand around him, pushing his fist out of the way to stroke his cock for him. Your juices smooth the way and the distinct veins that decorate his length pulse angrily beneath your palm.

Feeling bold, you lift your hips slightly upwards and swirl the turgid flesh through your folds, twitching when Bucky’s tip hits your swollen clit. The stimulation paired with your audacity to behave so rakishly pushes him uncomfortably close to a premature release, prompting him to grab your wrist and wrench your hand away from his aching erection. You whine unhappily, but he’s quick to soothe your disapproval.

“You have such a pretty pussy, baby,” he praises. “I’m just gonna rub on you like this.”

Buck demonstrates by sliding his cock through your folds, you slick coating the underside of his length and squelching audibly when he draws his hips back again. He keeps grinding himself along your needy pussy until you grow dizzy and frantic with need. The friction of his hot flesh is driving you insane and the pressure of his hardened, bulbous head rutting against your clit nearly sends you over the edge.

“Bucky, I—” you choke out, unable to voice the inconceivable appeal you want to make.

Your moaning and wriggling sets his teeth on edge and his muscles twitch with the restraint he forces himself to exert. He coos over you — smug and condescending — watching the rapturous way in which your eyes roll as you bite your lip until it bleeds. Bucky can see the words you want to spit out as if to rid your mouth of the acrid taste of them, but you fight it. He’s determined to hear you voice them.

“What is it, little one?” he whispers. “Do you want more?”

Suddenly unsure, you smile shyly and shake your head, though Bucky can still see the indecision burning in your eyes. It won’t be long before you change your mind. In fact, he intends to make certain that you do. He needs to touch you, to give you what he knows you need. He wants to make you fall apart. You’ll beg for release, from his fingers or his mouth...and he tells himself that that’s okay. That’s acceptable. He wouldn’t really be doing something wrong if he gets you off without burying himself in your young, willing body...would he?

When the blunt head of his cock catches on your neglected hole, your pussy spasms and your brain short circuits, prompting you to blurt out without thinking about or considering the impact of your words.

“Please fuck me, Daddy,” you whine, your plea shaky with unshed tears.

“Don’t,” Bucky barks instantaneously.

His sharp tone surprises you as Bucky has never once raised his voice, let alone been stern with you. You cower beneath his unexpected firmness, your eyes growing wetter.

“We can’t do that,” he insists, his resolve even weaker than his flimsy voice. “I can’t fuck you, baby girl.”

The forlorn way you whimper immediately has him questioning his own convictions and when you reach for his cock and mash it even more firmly against your drippy cunt to force your sodden lips to separate and hug the girth of him, he’s never believed in something less. And when you wrap your fingers around the base of him to guide the shiny, reddened tip to the entrance of your pussy where you just barely breach yourself and cry out at the tight feeling, he knows then and there that he is going to fuck you.

“Is that what you really want?” he bites harshly, taking his weight on one hand so he can press the palm of the other against your throat, finger curling around your esophagus until he’s sure he has your full attention. “You need your daddy inside you, huh?”

“I…I want you,” you blubber.

The tears that finally trickle from the corners of your eyes snaps what little sanity Bucky has left, he surrenders any desire to uphold some level of propriety with you. He picks up where you left off, guiding the tip of his cock to your weeping, wanting cunt and drives his hips slightly forward. Offering only a few short and shallow strokes, Bucky fucks you with just the first inch or so of his cock; the stretch is dizzying nonetheless.

You’re satisfied with the initial drags of his cock only for a moment before you writhe beneath him and try to take him deeper with all the subtlety of a brick. But Bucky pulls away, denying you the satisfaction of feeling more than just the tip of his fat cock. Somehow, he manages yet again to convince himself that if he doesn’t fuck you any deeper than this, he’s still done nothing wrong. If it’s just the tip, he isn’t truly fucking you; he isn’t cheating on his wife or corrupting his sweet, young stepdaughter.

He maintains his composure for significantly longer than he thought possible before he can resist no longer. You gasp and moan in a way befitting of the filthiest of whores and your back arches when he dares to slip you another inch.

The heat of your tight cunt swallowing him up and hugging his cock snugly seeps so deep into him that he feels the warmth in his bones. You squeal loudly in surprise when Bucky lurches forward and impales you, his thickness splits you open and stretches your pussy with almost unbearable yet fulfilling pressure. He places a hand on each of your hips, stilling your fidgeting and wiggling as you endeavor to ease away from the overwhelming sensation of his cock sliding all the way to the hilt. Bucky keeps you in place, reveling in the way your slick walls ripple and squeeze as he makes sure you go nowhere.

“I’m so sorry, sweet girl,” he soothes with slight condescension, curling his body over yours to capture your lips in a fervid kiss. “You felt too good, I had to feel all of you.”

You can only whimper in response, altogether unaccustomed to feeling so full. Bucky carefully cradles your head, pressing his forehead to yours as he begins to fuck you with deep and steady strokes. His cock feels indescribable as it drives into you, coated in your slippery cream and hard as steel. With each plunge into your clenching pussy, Bucky grunts deeply in your ear. His fingers thread more tightly in your hair, harshly yanking the strands as he pumps his hips with more and more force.

The head of his cock bumps your cervix on each downstroke and it knocks a wavering cry from your lungs with precise reliability, Bucky becoming more and more certain that you utter the pathetic noises with the intention of taunting him and egging him on. He turns his head, swallowing your salacious cries as they grow in volume.

You’re caged in by his muscular arms as he presses your chest to his, ensuring that you take every inch he’s forcing into your pliant body. He just about loses his mind when he can feel you using your feet for leverage to drop your hips and meet his every thrust, extending his arms so he can look down and watch you greedily engulf his cock.

“Tight little cunt…feel so much better than your mother. You’re being so good for me, baby. My nasty little girl, huh?” he encourages. “Just like that, I’m so fucking close. Gonna cum on these pretty tits.”

To drive the point home, Bucky claws at the cups of your bra to release the bouncing globes. He palms the flesh, grinding his palms into your sensitive nipples and adoring the way your pussy constricts in kind. Your arms had pulled up and come to rest against your ribs and your little hands curl and unfurl atop your torso, blindly searching for something to grasp.

Bucky snatches up the pillow you’d tossed aside earlier and presses it to your belly, encouraging you to grab hold of the plush object. You do so gratefully, fingers digging forcefully into it to hold it tight as Bucky shoves your knees towards your chest and his cock slides in and out of you with ease.

While Bucky did have every intention of pulling out and blowing his load on your breasts as promised, the feral sound that rattles deep in your throat like an animal in heat makes him rethink the option. The sight of you powerless and tiny beneath him — pathetically clutching your pillow with both your eyes and lips opened wide with ecstasy as he watches the thickness of his cock disappearing within your little pussy, spreading and stretching you out with each swivel of his hips — leaves him without much choice.

“Don’t stop,” you beg. “Please don’t stop.”

He can’t hold back now, can’t deny either one of you the delectation of him leaving you completely full and sated. Especially not when he feels you grind your hips to sink further down onto him until the thatch of hair at the base of his cock tickles your clit and your legs pull tight around his hips.

The weight of Bucky’s body crushes the pillow between your bodies as he leans in to bite your neck, growling in response to your lamenting wail. The room is filled with the sound of raucous slapping as your skin makes sharp and consistent contact, the backs of your thighs slamming into Bucky’s hips with every violent thrust he imparts on you. You’re practically screaming by the time your orgasm overtakes you and the constriction of your pussy relentlessly gripping his cock flings Bucky over his own precipice.

“Ohhh, fuck…that’s it, honey. Just like that. Such a good fuckin’ slut,” Bucky hisses, beginning to ramble as the first spurt of cum spills, his balls pulsing with force. “Stay right there. Daddy’s gonna fill you up so good.”

You know you should refuse, push Bucky off and stop him from burying his seed in your pussy. But you cannot deny the fact that somewhere deep down, this is what you’ve wanted all along. To be his and to be marked as such. When you feel his cock jump inside you and the noticeable warmth of his cum seeps into your womb, you do exactly as he requests and you stay put as he pumps his hips shallowly and fucks his spurting cum even deeper.

Tipping your head, you latch your teeth into the collar of Bucky’s shirt as his body spasms above you, muscles twitching and rippling with his powerful release. He pins you in place with his body, focusing his weight against your wiggling hips until he’s positive you’ve milked every last drop of cum from his slick-soaked dick. You squeak in discomfort when he presses his pelvis flush to yours, the depth of his cock making your insides ache.

Bucky remains there — buried as deep as he can physically get — until he can catch his breath and his dick begins to soften. When he pulls out, the thick white trickle of cream begins to spill out immediately. You’re vaguely aware of the sound of a car outside and while you know you should be rushing to cover up and Bucky should be slipping away unnoticed from your bedroom, he seems to have other ideas.

Thick fingers sweep through the stickiness of Bucky’s spend, smearing it all over your puffy folds and coating your swollen clit in a layer of cum. He spends a dizzying amount of time focusing his touch on the over-stimulated bundle of nerves, only stopping when you begin to flinch and whine beneath his touch. Once you do, he chooses instead to gather the rest of what drips from your wrecked pussy on his fingers before slowly and methodically stuffing the long digits inside of you, shoving his cum back inside.

Satisfied with how his cum is now smeared over every inch of your pussy — both inside and out — Bucky brings his slippery fingers to his mouth, lewdly sucking your combined juices from his skin. He licks his lips for good measure, then hops gingerly from your bed to tug his boots back onto his feet. Bucky turns to you, proudly observing your limp, satiated body and the look on your tear-streaked face as he lovingly caresses the inside of your right thigh where some of your fluids have smeared. He fights the urge to bury his fingers knuckle-deep in your leaking pussy when he spies the cum that starts to seep out again.

“Come say goodnight to your mother,” he directs as he carefully stuffs his softened length back into his pants before looming over you to speak against your parted lips. “Be a good girl and I’ll come back later to tuck you in.”

With that, Bucky kisses you sloppily then exits your room without another word. You’re left lying there, alone and exhausted; legs shaking and your stepfather’s cum oozing from your sore pussy as you hear the distant sound of your mother’s voice downstairs.

Part Two

• Series Masterlist •

Sebastian Stan Masterlist ✦ Writing Masterpost

#i used the word cock 24 times i'm so sorry #barely edited this so i'm sorry for that too #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader fanfic #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes #stepfather au #stepfather!bucky barnes #sebastian stan fanfiction #sebastian stan fanfic #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan

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princessbellecerise · 10 months

Text

Forbidden Relationship

──── ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧ ────

summary | In which the House of the Dragon characters want what they cannot have—you

warnings | Forbidden romance trope and smut, canon incest, slight breeding kink for Jace

this fic is eighteen plus. minors please do not enter

divider by @princessbellecerise

Jacaerys Velaryon

Jace was already betrothed, promised to your sister—the eldest as was he

As the oldest brother and future King, it was his duty to marry well and Baela was just that. She would make a good Queen, Jacaerys knew that, but she was not who he wanted

It was really you that the Prince desired; her youngest sister. Locked away by your father in fear that his youngest daughter was growing too fast. You were the most like Laena therefore the most precious to Daemon. But he wasn’t the only one

Jace had loved you ever since you were kids. Ever since he first met you, on that dreadful day at your mother’s funeral. He had held your hand while you cried and didn’t let go not once

When the whole incident went down with Aemond, Jace had attacked his uncle because it was you he pushed. He was defending you, as he would continue to do growing up

You had spent your entire childhood with Jace and grown into young adulthood together. You played together, rode your dragons together, and you loved together no matter how much Daemon tried to keep you apart

It wasn’t like your father was doing it to be cruel; he just knew that one day it had to be Baela that married him, not you

After all, she was older than you and wiser. Fit to be Queen while a third daughter was not

It didn’t matter how much you loved Jacaerys or how much he loved you, it just couldn’t be

Or at least, that’s what the people on the outside thought

On the inside, though, you and Jace shared a bond that no one knew about. A love that was pure and kind, like you both were

A love that could never be; forever hidden under bed sheets and secluded corridors

It didn’t matter to your father that Jace had snuck in your room plenty of times to take you. It didn’t matter that the future king had promised to give you heirs every time he laid with you or that he had fulfilled that promise multiple times

Jacaerys was an honorable man, yes, but not when he was desperate. Not when he was in love

There wasn’t a time when Jace hadn’t given you his seed, praying each time that it stuck so that Dameon would have no choice but to wed the two of you

He hoped and he hoped but alas; Daemon Targaryen was not a man easily swayed. Each night Jace tried to impregnate you would be contradicted by Moon Tea in the morning

Your tears soaking his chest each time that you cried, realizing that your father would never let up, and that no matter what you did, the man you loved the most would always be promised to your sister

Lucerys Velaryon

Hadn’t he taken enough?

It felt wrong; wanting something from Aemond when Lucerys had already stolen his eye

It felt wrong wanting you, the One-Eyed Targaryen’s sweet baby sister, when Luke had already taken so much

But alas, when Lucerys traveled back to the Red Keep to solidify his claim to Driftmark, that’s when he met you and has his whole life turned upside

You’re kind, that’s the first thing he noticed. The second was how pretty you grew up to be. But most of all, after all these years, Luke noticed that you seemed to harbor no ill feelings towards him, unlike your mother and brothers

You spent time with him when no one else would, showing him around the castle and explaining all the things he missed, much to the dismay of your mother

The two of you became close in a short amount of time and it’s no surprise that he ends up falling in love with you, and you him. Even though you shouldn’t, seeing as you knew better than anyone the animosity your mother and especially your brother harbored against Luke

Even your drunk of a brother Aegon felt bitter about it, but you…

Perhaps you were just young, dumb, and in love

Or maybe it was rationality that helped you put aside your feelings, hearing the story from Luke’s perspective and realizing he truly did think Aemond was going to kill Jace

Not a full excuse but it was enough to come to an understanding. Luke was a child, and so was Aemond. Yes, it never should have happened but it did and it was the adults in their lives that had failed them

Your mother and grandsire failed you by filling your head with so much hate, so maybe that’s why you fell for Lucerys so hard. Relishing in the stages of young, first love and the thrill of sneaking around

The entire time his family stays at the Keep, you and Luke have to dodge the ever watchful eyes of your brothers and your mother

Lying to her isn’t easy but it’s manageable, especially when Queen Alicent has much more worrisome things to attend to. She hardly frets about her second youngest child, her baby girl. Mainly because you were supposed to be under the watchful eyes of her lap dog, Ser Criston Cole

Over the years though, he’s grown lax in his position. Carelessly falling asleep on his watch, which gives Lucerys the perfect opportunity to sneak into your room

Sometimes, he brings books to read to you and you’ll lay on his chest while he speaks your mother tongue. High Valerian that’s better than yours and Aemond’s combined, the two of you always giggling and kissing under the covers

Other times, you’ll sing to him softly and play with his hair. Listening to his worries about inheriting Driftmark or not being good enough

Each time, you’d kiss his insecurities away and reassure him that’s he more than capable and good enough

When you do, Luke swears each time that he falls more and more in love

It becomes devastating, knowing that he has to leave you and the only comfort he’s ever known. Sure, Rhaenyra listens to his worries but not like you. You’re special to Luke, and though he knows your family will never allow it, he wishes to be betrothed

He doesn’t want to go back to Dragonstone without you, and so he doesn’t

One night, just days before he and his family are set to return, Luke sneaks into your room for the final time. Slipping past Criston Cole, he enters your chambers and sees you crying your eyes out

You don’t want him to leave, and it breaks his heart to see you that way. But maybe, he expresses to you, it doesn’t have to be the end between you two

You both have dragons, Luke tells you

And one day, your family would understand if you were to leave with him, to become his wife. They would have to respect your choices because surely the King would

Viserys would be overjoyed with the union, Luke convinces you. The king would be so happy that your families were finally reunited that he wouldn’t even care that you ran away to be with Luke

One day, everyone would just look back and laugh at the fact that the young princess and prince were so desperate to be together that they fled in the middle of the night and rode their dragons back to his ancestral home

One day, Alicent would cope with the fact that her youngest daughter was stolen away by the dragon prince. That Aemond would weep tears of joy that his baby sister was given to the boy that stole his eye

It would all be fine, is what you think when you do run away with Lucerys Velaryon, but you were young and dumb and in love

The consequences never once occurring to you until it’s too late

Aemond Targaryen

You weeped and prayed to the Gods for your good luck when you found out you had been assigned to serve the Prince Aemond instead of his brother, Aegon

Literal tears were rolling down your face from being so relieved, happy that you would escape from an unpleasant fate like the women before you

After all, the rumors about Aegon were enough make anyone quake, and while you were well aware that Prince Aemond was known for being cruel or indifferent, at least he treated people humanely

When you first started serving him, he never touched you once or did anything inappropriate. He was polite, always saying please and thank you which shocked you

You weren’t expecting the prince to be so…kind. Especially not to you, a lowborn serving girl

It took you by surprise, but it was pleasant. Pleasant enough that after a few months, you could safely say that you…enjoyed the Prince’s company

Sometimes, he’d be reading while you prepared his baths and he’d call you over to ask for your opinion

Or, he’d be in the library and decide he wanted a snack, calling for you specifically but asking you to stay even after you’ve completed your duties

You had to admit, you weren’t expecting to get so close to Aemond. Yes, he was kind to you but that’s about all he felt for you. Or so you thought

It didn’t take long for you to realize that the prince was doing all of that because he enjoyed your company. He liked being around you, liked hearing you speak when you discussed history with him and he liked laughing with you and sharing his sweets even though he wasn’t supposed to

Aemond enjoyed your presence more than a prince of his station should have, and you most certainly enjoyed him more than a servant should have

After all, it was dishonorable and down right illegal for a woman of your position to fool around with someone of such high rank

Prince Aemond was off limits, you knew that from the various warnings the head servant had given you. A strong message to all the servants that many have tried to seduce the princes before and very little have succeeded. If they did they were quickly disposed of and all but doomed themselves to a life worse than death

It wasn’t worth the risk, she had told you, especially not with Aemond. No, a prince like him had never and would never disgrace himself like that. He would never fall for someone like you

But if that were truly the case, then what were you doing in his bedsheets every night?

His cock disappearing in your cunt, Aemond whispering words of praises left and right. His lips were forever attached to yours, it seemed, never wanting to leave. Never wanting to face the realities that came later

He had told you he loved you time and time again. Beginning from the fifth meet-up, or maybe the sixth. You didn’t know, it had been so long, after all

You and Aemond had been together for the better part of a year and it was surprise that no one had ever caught onto you

They all simply thought that you were just devoted to the prince, as a good servant should be. Even his mother, the Queen, had personally praised you for exceeding your duties

No one knew that you had been so excellent because you loved him, and he you

No one knew, and no one could ever know as much as it pained you both to say

You had to hide your love with stolen kisses and secret glances. Behind closed doors, always, for knew Aemond knew the risks, as did you

And you both knew that if you were ever discovered then you’d never see each other again

Aemond cherished every moment he had with you even if was only in the privacy of his chambers. And as much as he hated sneaking around and hiding his relationship with you, he’d much rather love you in the dark than for you to be sent away or worse—executed all because two people just so happened to fall in love

It was worst his nightmare, someone taking you away him. He hated to think about it, dreaded knowing that day could come

He hated knowing that the two of you could never truly be together

For he was him, and you were you

The two of you forever doomed to love one another while being forced to pretend such a thing didn’t exist

#jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys velaryon smut #lucerys velaryon #lucerys velaryon x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #hotd #hotd x reader #house of the dragon #house of the dragon x reader

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riseofamoonycake · 5 months

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Hi! I would like to read something about female!reader sending nudes or photos in bath suit to her s/o.

Free choice on the characters, but I don't follow ror or bsd, so if you can don't choose these fandoms.

Ok! Since you didn't specify anything, I chose some interesting babe from a fandom I accept and made some hcs eheheh... and thank you *^* I had a very pleasant time while writing it!

Reacting to you willingly sending them a nude (or a photo in bathing suit)

Featuring: some of my favorite men in JJK

Choso, Kashimo Hajime, Higuruma Hiromi x fem!reader

Choso

As soon as Choso sees the notification of your message, he doesn't think twice and opens it immediately, innocently, even smiling: so, out of the blue, this poor boy finds himself in front of a photo of your body thight in a skimpy swimsuit, which leaves very little to the imagination and yet covers what it needs to cover.

Choso stares at the screen for a split second, just long enough to realize what he is looking at, then turns completely red and has to take his eyes away to focus on something else, whatever it is, while shaking all over and starting to sweat profusely. You hit him, you knocked him out: congratulations, you killed Choso. After this experience, he will never be the same as before.

The blush accompanies him for the rest of the day, as well as what he saw: there is no possibility of making him forget the vision of your breasts wrapped in that miserable flap of fabric, of your plush thighs, of all that exposed skin and only for him… and as soon as Choso sees you again, it gets worse, because he can't even speak and you have to be the one to come closer, take his face in your hands and squeeze his cheeks, and hug his neck while you ask him if everything okay, chuckling as I notice his usual paleness softened by a nice bright red.

"Did you have to do it? What is it, a new form of punishment?", he whispers to you in a faint voice, without the courage to look at your face or touch you; and for the rest of the day he will be on another world. Poor puppy, let him breathe and recover a little; afterwards you will have a lot to talk about…

… And in any case, the photo was more than welcome.

Kashimo Hajime

"Aaaahhh, what a naughty girl…"

Without hiding an amused and excited smile at the same time, Kashimo continues to observe the photo you sent him, observing every detail of that body fully enhanced by the costume you are wearing and barely hidden by the sarong that you - stupidly - decided to put around your waist, so he carefully saves the photo, closes his cell phone and shakes his head, placing that vision in a safe corner of his mind and continuing to do what he had to do: whether he was in the midst of combat or engaged in a simple errand, the pleasure only comes in following duty, otherwise it cannot be fully exalted. Every now and then the photo comes back to him, as it should, but he manages to keep it at bay and not let it interfere with his duties; but when the god of lightning has completed all his commitments and can dedicate himself only to his beautiful partner… it is better for you to start running away.

It is really necessary for you to find a safe haven, because wherever he is, it takes Kashimo just a few minutes to reach you and appear in front of you, his eyes wide with excitement and the most perverse grin you have ever seen crossing his face. Electric shocks crackle around him, aiming in your direction like hissing snakes, almost enveloping you as his arms tighten around your back with energy.

"There she is, the little brat! What did you think you were doing by sending me that photo, hmmm? And why have you already got dressed?"

Well, I told you to escape: now, enjoy as much as possible Kashimo's hot hands that grab and squeeze you, tearing everything you are wearing to caress and pinch the flesh underneath, while his mouth it closes around the neck and bites it with the same hunger as a wolf, carving its mark on your throat, or it seeks the warmth of already dripping folds into which to insert that long and already darting tongue…

Higuruma Hiromi

Your photo arrives just at the most suitable time of the day, when there is total chaos in the law firm, and Higuruma opens the message almost by chance, as if to seek salvation and a bit of calm in your words.

And words are not at all.

The man's breathing is the only thing that changes in him, because his face remains impassive: however, his mind goes blank for an instant while the image of your naked body comes to occupy the entire screen and pushes away practices, tasks and deadlines with the force of a kiss, and he no longer hears anything or responds to anyone.

After entire minutes of silence and immobility, only a: "… Oh?" soft as a caress leaves his lips as he continues to stare at the screen and everyone believes that he is simply enchanted reading something, even if his eyes remain fixed and no one dares to come closer to check what is happening; and in the end the lawyer takes a weak sigh, closes his cell phone and goes back to his work as if nothing had happened, even if his day has completely changed.

His serious expression doesn't change even when he comes home and sees you, and initially he doesn't reply to your smile; then, just before you can say anything, he steps in front of you and stares straight into your eyes. “So, about what you sent me today…” A pause. "Show me the proof of what you say."

You laugh, already knowing where he is going with this; a matter of a few moments, before he grabs your face and gives you an intense kiss, one hand tightening around your hair to gently pull it and the other already undressing you, while he presses his chest against yours until he pushes you against the wall. You smile as you say goodbye to your clothes and underwear, because nothing can stop Hiromi until you are completely naked, just covered by that veil of light coming from the chandelier; and he can grab your hips and dig his nails into them while he lifts and holds you pressed against the wall with his own body, undressing himself just enough to allow you to caress him and him to take you in place and find relief in your soft arms.

Your excited gaze and bated breath push him to start to destroy you slowly but firmly, savoring your every moan and tremble, staring at you while you throw your head back and expose the throat to everything he wants to do to it. You richly deserved it, with your beautiful photo; just as you also deserved the long spanking session that will fall on your sweet buttocks as soon as Higuruma has tamed you well and then his gavel will find a fun use on you for the whole night…

#jjk kashimo #jjk choso #choso kamo #jujutsu kaisen choso #choso #kashimo hajime #hajime kashimo #higuruma hiromi #jjk higuruma #hiromi higuruma #kashimo x reader #kashimo x y/n #higuruma x reader #kamo choso #choso x reader

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cottonundiestf · 5 months

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Winner Take All

Diana and Violet shared a streaming channel, DiViGaming, that was struggling to gain traction. The streaming space was crowded if you didn't have a gimmick, and they hadn't settled on one yet.

At least, not until they got their hands on the Victor's Spoils Chokers!

Wearing matching choker necklaces, their contests now had higher stakes, with the winner getting to steal away a trait of her choice from the loser. Viewers flocked to watch each stream, waiting with pants in hand for the results.

Today's games had been... rough on Diana. Violet won the first game, a rhythm game, which was expected; she was always more on beat than Diana. But Di had way better reaction time to make up for it in the next games.

Except Violet cheated! "As winner, I'm going to... drain some of your motor functions."

"What?" The small gem at Diana's throat glowed and suddenly she felt the world slowing down as dizziness overtook her. When the sudden wave subsided, she looked at her hands, trying to move her fingers, only to realize they were difficult to move and didn't react right away. "Ch-cheater!"

Violet just grinned. "We never said it was against the rules! Oh well, next game!"

With Violet's reactions and dexterity souped up and Diana's at minimal functionality, the next series of games were a stomp. And Violet was showing no mercy, laughing and bullying her friend the entire time.

"I win again! Let's take... that lovely tan complexion of yours." Diana grumbled, feeling the ripple of goosebumps across her body as the natural tan granted by her mixed heritage drained away until she was pale white and her friend's Nordic background vanished behind a perfect warm complexion.

"Another win? Oh my, how about... that round ass of yours! I could use a boost." The girls had comparable bottoms, or at least they did, but Diana was forced to stand and show the camera as her ass lost enough mass that her pants started to slip off. Meanwhile, Vi was happy to taunt Di, shaking her new cake for the viewers.

"Won. Again. You know, I can tell you've been hitting the gym. I'm fine reaping the rewards." Diana groaned, feeling weak as her muscle mass withered away, leaving her frame narrow as a toothpick while Violet enjoyed her new healthy build.

And this kept happening. Diana dropped out of frame as her height was reduced by a foot while Violet shot up. Diana's long hair had to be pulled into a close, messy bun as Violet flipped her new luxurious locks.

And, of course, with the final game, Violet approached her petite partner and touched her chest. "They aren't even that big. Cute little B cups. But..."

Diana whimpered. "...Please?"

Violet shrugged. "Sorry Di. It's all you've got left." The gem glowed, deflating the perky tits on Diana until she was left with naught but puffy nipples on her flat chest.

Violet chuckled, grasping her chest. "Well, this has been a fun stream! I hope everyone enjoyed this thorough ass-kicking! Now if you switch to our... 'private stream,' you'll get to see Di appreciate our body in all its glory."

"Can I at least get my brain stuff back," she grumbled?

"...Yes. But only because I'm going to make sure to put that dexterity to good use. Now smile for the camera, Di!"

Tags for @misseviehyde and @bimbosanddolls for getting me in an attribute theft mood!

#attribute theft #dumbification #breast expansion #breast theft #ass expansion #ass theft #height change

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patheticbatman · 3 months

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I haven't seen any posts about this yet but l've seen some fan art that makes me feel this needs to be said:

Don't forget Leah Sava Jeffries has darker skin when making Annabeth Chase fan art!

She is much closer to Lupita Nyong'o than Zoe Kravitz when it comes to shading, reflection, and complementary color usage :).

Lighting for dark skin is different on light skin. Light skin gets changed by lighting, and dark skin reflects the lighting. Below is a lovely shot of Nyong'o's character from Wakanda Forever in mourning. The filmmakers emphasize the umber qualities of her skin in contrast to the funereal white and (arguably harsh) light across her shoulder below.

Try to pick spots that aren't directly in or near the light, and try mixing 3 or more! You can put it into a color mixer online, or even color pick, lower the opacity, and lay the shades over each other until you find one that fits. And of course, the more 'realistic' you want to go with shading and lighting, the more shades you're going to want to be able to explore vivaciously :D.

Let's take a look at the same 3 beautiful actresses I mentioned at the beginning, with a bad color picked area and a better-ish color picked area. (Please keep in mind, these are not perfect comparisons, as I was not able to find pictures of all 3 actresses under the same kind of lighting.)

Kravitz's has a clear difference between the two, but they aren't too far apart, in comparison to Nyong’o’s and Jeffries’s. Note the dullness in the poorly picked shades as opposed to the better ones. Also keep in mind that while Kravitz has a rosy undertone (at least in that picture - it’s from The Batman, which has stylized coloring) Nyong’o has a slight cool undertone (I can’t pin down quite what, but the picture is definitely not stylized like Kravitz’s).

Jeffries runs more ochre or russet, but neither of those are pink. They are more red than terracotta or umber, but to call Jeffries’s face rosy would be wrong. Err more towards the golden when drawing her.

^^saved an image from a writing tutorial long ago, but can’t seem to find it. If someone recognizes it, I’ll link it. EDIT: it’s from this post. Thanks @autumnrowancollector ! <3

And also, the darker skin gets, the less likely warm undertones are going to appear. Don't be afraid to use blue or purple or even green on occasion!

Additionally, cool lighting on dark skin is always a win imo.

(I was going to use that picture of Jeffries as Annabeth by the lightning bolt, but then I realized the lighting on her face doesn’t quite match up with where it should hit from that angle, and I realized they kind of just turned everything bluer, so screenshot time!)

(Also if you want another really great live action example, check out anything Aldis Hodge is in, like Leverage and Black Adam)(and of course there’s Spiderverse <3 but I want to post pictures of Hodge)

Now, to here’s a list of more experienced people’s advice:

Black facial features & hair

Shading digitally for a (somewhat) monotone Black character

Stylistic choices and places to start looking for inspiration (besides a search engine).

Coloring Black people’s lips

A better coloration tutorial

Also a nice tutorial for Indigenous skin tones, just in case yall want to draw Piper or use this information for other dark skinned characters :).

EDIT: Some actresses who are closer in skintone to use for Annabeth, provided by the lovely @blackfemmecharacterdependency ! If you can’t find a reference for Jeffries in a specific lighting, maybe check out these ladies’ pictures! It’s a reblog, so scroll down.

TLDR: Don’t make Annabeth pink and pale, make her dark and golden.

#Annabeth chase #Percy Jackson #percabeth #leah sava jeffries #pjo #leah jeffries #art tutorial #percy jackon and the olympians #I love superheroes and so of course all of the actors I thought of were from superhero movies lmao #also for the record my advice is mostly from reading others’ tutorials and observation #and I don’t really use it a lot because I stick to lineart a lot lol #like down to mentioning Hodge (love himmmm) as a reference for good lighting on dark skin #there’s another post floating around here that specifically mentions him and Leverage for that #I’m tagging this as an art tutorial but really i want it to be more of a master post #master post so yall can see the tutorials I usually use #but then I ended up writing about Jeffries specifically because I’m dumb #I wanted to go to sleep four hours ago I’m dumb #I really want to draw her and ginger Percy but #irl it’s starting to get busy at school again :/

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mademoiselle-cookie · 7 months

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It was at this moment that she decided to assassinate Ambrosius.

She could have continued to protest Ballister's words, she could have tried to make an excuse or even sent Ambrosius back to his post. But no. She gives up extremely quickly and almost jumps straight to murder.

Is it only me who’s shocked that it’s happening so quickly?

She who does all this in the name of Gloreth has absolutely no problem killing her (as far as we know) only descendant. Which means if he dies, Gloreth's lineage is over.

Ambrosius is a Goldenloin, a noble, a knight, the very example of a knight! He's exactly what she's trying to "protect." And she kills him with her own hands. (If that's not a metaphor, I don't know what is)

But concretely, there are several reasons for this sudden choice:

She has no good excuse at her disposal, either because she had overestimated her influence on Ambrosius, or underestimated his trust in Ballister;

She realized that Ambrosius is too attached to Ballister, which means that not only will he try not to hurt him and will not accept him being killed or treated unfairly, but also that the first chance he gets, he'll take Ballister's side and not hers;

As Ballister's (only) friend, he is one of the only obstacles in making him out to be a heartless assassin;

If someone as important and influential as him were to get in her way, she will have great difficulty doing what she wants and may even risk losing her position and power;

She knows she will never be able to convince him of the "merits" of her quest;

She has a great alibi: Ballister.

This last point is very important. She can get rid of a nuisance as she wishes with complete impunity. No one is there and Ballister has already managed to sneak into the Institute without anyone noticing before then (it's not like anyone is going to accuse her instead of the 'Queen's Killer'). So she also has a golden opportunity to silence any doubt about Ballister's guilt. I mean, others could be like Ambrosius and question her again, and Ballister managed to obtain evidence that she had killed the Queen while he didn't know before that it was her, so someone else provided them to him, so the idea of him being innocent can spread. By accusing him of killing the most popular knight in the Kingdom, she ensures that no one questions his position as a monster and criminal.

It's the Institute, where knights are trained to defend the Kingdom, there's no chance that the Director didn't have access to another weapon than Ballister's. But she chose to use his sword.

But Ballister's sword was destroyed, no one will wonder about the appearance of a second?

No one asks questions about a man who decides to assassinate for no reason the person who allowed him to rise from his social condition, in public, surrounded by knights, right next to an armed man, and visibly without any plan to escape?

The more I think about it, the less sense this supposed assassination makes. It only worked because of media manipulation and because Ballister was the culprit. If the roles had been reversed with Ambrosius - in the event that they had exchanged swords (and the Director didn't notice the exchange and/or couldn't disable the attack) - it certainly wouldn't have gone that far because:

Ambrosius is loved by all and known for being trustworthy/kind/insert knightly quality. Ballister is a commoner, who, even after several years of working hard and being miles better than others, is not seen as trustworthy. People will be much more likely to make excuses for Ambrosius than for Ballister.

The Director has no interest in using the media to blame him. On the contrary, she will try to defend him and claim that he was framed.

Ballister had no excuse for having a deadly laser sword, he has no one to blame for him. Ambrosius yes. There's Ballister. Not only because it is the untrustworthy newcomer dirty commoner that his fellow knights despise, but above all it is HIS sword that was trapped. The Director and the population will accuse him of framing Ambrosius.

People will WANT him to be the culprit instead of their lovely and respected knight. They don't want the literal descendant of their hero to be an awful person who did something this horrible. They don't want the representation of the Institute, of their society to be shaken. (I'm a pro jedi fan. I know that when people want to defend their blorbos, they can go veeeeeery far, including putting responsabilities on other people, even complete innocents or victims)

In fact, this situation will be even more credible than the original one. Why he didn't plan his escape? Bc he didn't need to. Why he did that? Obviously to take revenge on better people in better situation than him, and on society itself, by targetting the Queen, leader of the Kingdom, and a Goldenloin, who's also the Kingdom's most prestigious knight and the descendant of the founder of the Institute.

#I got completely sidetracked #I just wanted to talk about the Director's murder tendencies #the question about Ballister twin swords was mine #I really thought about the logic of this dumpster fire situation #nimona 2023 #nimona #nimona movie #ambrosius goldenloin #director #ballister boldheart #ballister x ambrosius #goldenheart

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pettydollie · 3 months

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matt req!!

matt coming over to play with ur younger siblings

big and scary - m.s

notes/warnings: matt sturniolo x fem reader, reader has 3 younger siblings, teenage brother struggles with depression, smoking (not u or matt), princess soft matt wc: 1.2k

a/n: this was deeper than i originally intended, IM SORRY 😭 a/n 2: soz for the weird ending, i didnt know what to do to wrap it up

"leave him alone, ann!" you grinned, pulling your little sister off your boyfriend's neck. she pouted. "he said i could! we're playing, yn!" she stuck her tongue out as matt giggled, feeling somewhat shy. he gave you a look saying 'its alright', but still, she was basically suffocating him.

your younger brother theo stepped out of his bedroom, hearing a familiar voice. "oh, hi matt." he waved. matt stood up and dusted off his pants, greeting the teenager. "hey man." he dapped him up before ann pulled your even younger sister into the room.

shes an insanely shy and nervous girl, especially when it comes to matt. she thinks he's the coolest guy ever, but she has a hard time expressing it. as soon as she came in, matt stepped to her slowly.

she hid behind ann as he kneeled down in front of her. he smiled sweetly and waved. "hi bella." he spoke gently, being patient as she eventually moved out from behind ann to wave her chubby hand. the corners of his mouth turned up slightly, satisfied. he stood up again, but quickly, ann grabbed his hand, pulling his attention back.

"let's play barbies!" she cheered, bella let out a small chuckle in excitement. at this, theo took this as a chance to rush out of the room and go out on the balcony. you noticed a pack of cigarettes in his pocket peeking out. you bit the inside of your cheek, mentally battling whether to follow him or stay and watch the girls with matt.

you decided on the first and better choice, tapping on matt's shoulder while he watched the girls pull out their dolls and dollhouse. he turned, looking up at you from the ground. "i'll be right back." you muttered, booping his nose with your finger as he scrunched his nose and nodded.

you ushered out onto the balcony, where your brother was smoking a cigarette, looking out into the world. you closed the sliding door, folding your arms. you sighed, standing next to him. he avoided eye contact, choosing to ignore you.

"you know those'll kill you." you turned your head to stare at him. he scoffed. "you're being dramatic, go away." he spat, taking another hit. you picked at your fingernails, thinking for a moment before giving up and walking back inside.

when you stepped into the living room, matt was chuckling and holding a ken doll as your sisters (ann rather than bella) laughed loudly and created a story. the sight made you smile, especially when you realized bella was talking more than usual.

"i told you he wasn't big and scary, bell." you announced your presence, causing the three to turn around. "do you want something to drink, babe?" you asked, hinting with your eyes to say yes. he got the hint immediately and nodded. "sounds good." he got up and followed you out the room.

"hurry up!" ann yelled.

he chuckled as you two sat on bar stools. "those girls are full of fun." he noted. he picked up how you didn't make fun of him playing with dolls or how he looked absolutely stunning with messy pink glitter all over his face.

"what's up?" he frowned, grabbing your hand, rubbing your fingers softly. you sucked your teeth. "theo's still smoking."

matt's mouth formed an 'o'. you dropped your head into your hands, letting his go. "he's only 15, it's a bad habit." you breathed. what's gonna happen if he gets lung disease or cancer? your family can't afford medical bills. you tried to shake the thought off, coming back to life hearing your sisters shriek and argue angrily.

"ugh, hold on." you scoffed, getting up quickly, running to deal with the drama queens. "yeah, g'head." he nodded. but matt decided he shouldn't just stay there. he stood up a minute after you did, seeing theo on the balcony, still smoking with his phone in his hand.

he knocked on the sliding door, causing your brother to turn around. matt mouthed 'can i come out?' to which the teen simply shrugged, turning back around.

he took the sluggish response as yes, stepping out into the fresh air and closing the door behind him. he leaned against the railing next to the boy who offered his almost finished cig. matt shook his head, "nah, i'm alright." he declined. theo pulled his hand back, puffing out smoke.

after a few moments of silence, matt spoke up. "why do you do it?" still not looking at him, he asked. theo rolled his eyes. "what?" turning to look at matt, who was still looking at the view. your boyfriend rose an eyebrow. "why do you smoke? like what's the reason? stress, peer pressure, ya know?" finally turning his head to look at the boy.

"yer nosy."

matt dryly chuckled in reply. theo sighed. "calms me down." he answered, inspecting the cigarette before taking another hit. matt nodded in understanding. "i've got anxiety. not as bad as it used to be, though." he started. "but even when it gets really bad, i'on smoke. that shit's gonna mess you up bad.”

theo acted like he didn’t care. he shrugged off what matt said, but he understood. you wouldn’t get it though, theo thinks you’re perfect. you don’t have to deal with the type of stuff he does. hearing it from a guy like matt, who seems so well put together, is something he’d never thought he’d hear.

matt slapped his hand on theo’s shoulder before walking back inside, leaving him with his thoughts. he stumbled into a room of hushed crying. “but it wasn’t my fault!” bella cried out, wiping her tears when she realized matt entered the room.

"was too!" ann accused, sticking her tongue out. matt smirked, that tiny little action reminded him of you. he turned to the side for a second so the girls or you wouldn't see him cheekily grinning. when he turned around with a straight face, he asked, "what happened?"

you folded your arms and leaned on your side. "bella 'accidentally' ripped out some of ann's barbie's hair." you replied bluntly. matt decided to kneel down on the ground like earlier, so he'd seem less intimidating. he didn't want to be big and scary like you. "did you do it on purpose, bell?"

bella pouted at the nickname, feeling nervous all of a sudden. she shook her head, not being able to form words. he muttered an "okay" and cocked his head towards ann who'd stopped crying. "maybe you should say sorry."

the younger girl looked at you. "do i have to?" she whispered so only you could hear. you shrugged. "no. but it would make ann feel better." you ruffled her hair before she walked over to ann and apologized into her shoulder as she hugged her.

matt stood up, feeling satisfied with himself. "look at you, you're a natural parent." you half-joked, punching his shoulder lightly. "been dealing with sibling arguments foreverrr." he groaned, rolling his eyes.

you smile softly at matt being so gentle and kind to your siblings. theo included. you'll definitely bring it up with him later, thanking him for his sweetness. but for now, you'd laugh loudly at him attempting to make a girly voice to appeal to your sisters.

#𝓶𝓪𝓽𝓽 𝓼𝓽𝓾𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓸𝓵𝓸 #matt sturniolo x reader fluff #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo fluff #fluff #fluffy #matthew bernard sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matthew x reader #sturniolo #sturniolo triplets

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valeskafics · 7 months

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"You Are In Love" - Modern!Aemond Targaryen x Reader

a/n: from a request for my songfic milestone challenge from @barbiedragon - fae bae, you are the loml my ride or die, hope you like it 💕

Summary: You come to a realization while spending the night with your boyfriend.

Word Count: 1,250

TW: profanity, innuendo, she/her pronouns, afab reader, oral f receiving, tooth rotting fluff

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of the Dragon/Fire and Blood characters nor do I claim to own them.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated ❤️

You and Aemond haven’t been dating long, only a few weeks or so, but every day of it has been complete and utter bliss. You were so intimidated by him the first time he approached you after your philosophy class, tall and handsome and brooding. He asked if you could email him your notes from the last two lectures, since he missed them due to a family emergency. You readily said yes and took down his email address as well as his number, the latter at his suggestion in case you ever missed a class in the future.

And slowly, a friendship blossomed between the two of you. Your Snapchat streak was kept alive by pictures of your choice of literature of the day, and on his end, pictures of his adorably grumpy cat, Vhagar. He would send you the most niche, ridiculous memes, and you couldn’t help laughing at every single one of them. And when the two of you studied together for your midterm? Somewhere between Kant and Locke, his lips found yours and the rest was history.

You’re surprised by your flat’s doorbell ringing, not expecting any company. You shrug and stand up, stretching slightly, before walking over to the door and opening it, only to see your boyfriend, looking as handsome as ever, wearing one his soft white cotton shirts, his favorite silver chain, and a pair of gray sweatpants, the ones that never fail to send your mind straight to the gutter. You smile as he pushes off the wall to pull you into a tight hug, pressing a kiss to your neck.

“What’re you doing here, babe?” you ask, hugging him back, wrapping your arms around him as he holds you close.

“I missed you,” Aemond murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple before pulling back to rest his forehead against yours, “Wanted to see my beautiful girlfriend.”

You smile up at him brightly, “Are you hungry? Wanna order in?”

Aemond brushes his nose against yours before grinning back at you, “I have a better idea. A dinner cooked by your loving boyfriend.”

You raise an eyebrow as he takes your hand and the two of you enter the apartment, closing the door, “You can cook? You never mentioned that.”

Aemond immediately embraces you again, this time pressing himself up against you from behind, his chin resting on your shoulder, “Well, love, let’s just say I have a few hidden talents.”

You turn to kiss his cheek softly before giggling, “I’d love to let you eat anything you make, babe. But you have to let me help.”

You lead Aemond by the hand toward your kitchen, his lips turning up into a slight smirk, “Alright, you’re in charge of dessert.” The two of you reach the fridge and he moves to rest his hands on your hips, grinding himself against you, his thin sweatpants and your flimsy sundress doing little to hide his arousal from you as he whispers, “Make sure the dessert is nice and creamy, hm?”

You burst into laughter, turning to face him, pressing a kiss to his jaw and shaking your head, “You’re terrible!”

He chuckles, running his hands up from your hips to your waist, “You love it, you little minx. But as I was saying, I would rather start with dessert.”

You giggle as he continues to mouth at your neck, moving your hair aside as he kisses you like he hasn’t seen you in years, every touch tender and yearning, “Oh yeah? What do you have in mind?”

“I think you know exactly what I want to devour, baby.”

You let out a squeak as he grabs you by your thighs, pushing you up onto the kitchen counter. Aemond sinks down to his knees, gazing up at you in that pretty sundress, face illuminated by the light coming from the fridge. He presses a kiss to your ankle, up your calf, to your inner thigh, before mouthing at you over your panties. You grasp at the countertop, knuckles going white as Aemond pulls your underwear aside, his tongue delving inside your pussy. You moan as he laps at your folds, his thumb circling your clit over your underwear, slow lazy movements that have you begging him for more. His tongue drags against your walls, savoring every second of tasting you. He continues licking at you at a languid pace, continuing his fingers’ ministrations until you come undone against him, crying out his name.

He stands to his full height, pressing his lips to yours with a whisper of, “Taste how sweet you are, love.”

The kiss is slow and sensual and will almost certainly lead to more later, but right now, you’re just happy in this moment.

“There’s a super moon tonight,” Aemond murmurs, “Should we go out to the beach and see it?”

You nod, letting him lead you toward his car. You love the way he always makes sure his playlist for you is queued up when you get in, how he always holds your hand as he drives, the way his fingers intertwine with yours and how right it feels. It’s late, so the two of you grab a coffee from the 24 hour diner a stone’s throw from the beach, your usual haunt. The elderly woman who always waits on the two of you watches you exit, to-go cups in hand, smiling softly at the young lovers in front of her as you make your way to the beach.

The waves crash against the sand, the two of you standing side by side as you gaze up at the sky, admiring how beautiful the moon looks tonight. You turn to look at him for a moment, your shoulders brushing. You admire the glow of the moonlight on his skin, how the light reflects the chain on his neck, how cute he looks in that hoodie he always lets you borrow, how handsome his side profile…

“Hey,” Aemond whispers, “Look up.”

You gasp, seeing a shooting star passing across the sky. Aemond moves to embrace you from behind, his chin resting on top of your head, the two of you basking in the beauty of this perfect night.

You don’t think that you’ve ever felt happier than you do as he sleeps beside you, his deep breaths the only sound in your bedroom. He’s still wearing those damn sweatpants of his, but you’ve laid claim to that white cotton shirt of his, loving how it smells of him, how soft it is against your skin. You lay back, scrolling through your phone and startle slightly when Aemond wakes and clears his throat. You turn to look at him, and he has the strangest look on his face as he gazes at you, with the biggest goofiest smile on his face.

“Why’re you looking at me like that?” you laugh softly.

“Because,” he pauses, then says, “You’re my best friend.”

And you know what he means.

He is in love.

You gasp as he rolls over on top of you, his hard-on pressed against your thigh. You cup his length over the fabric of his sweatpants, smiling up at him, stroking softly before moving to lower the waistband. He eagerly pushes them down, joining his body with yours, admiring how gorgeous you look in just his tee shirt.

“You’re my best friend too,” you whisper as he rolls his hips against yours.

And you know it too, right then and there.

You are in love.

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond x you #aemond fic #aemond x fem!reader #aemond targaryen x y/n #prince aemond #prince aemond targaryen #prince aemond x reader #house of the dragon #my writing #modern!aemond x reader #modern!aemond x you #songfic #aemond drabble #modern!aemond drabble

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nathanielzalexandria · 1 year

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I love all the headcanons of "Steve is not dumb he's..." Hard of hearing, has poor eyesight, learning disability or his primary language is not English. I particularly enjoyed @dwobbitfromtheshire 's recent headcanon that he's hiding it because his father hates feeling inferior and only Eddie realizes that he is not dumb. But I would like to throw my own hat in the ring.

Steve is not dumb. Actually, he's quite smart and did quite well in school (because his parents would not expect anything less). He just wasn't into nerd culture and everyone just placed their stereotypes and rumours of him being a pretty and privileged rich jock who bought his way out of school but couldn't buy his way into college. Nevermind that he was in the top 10 students of his year and for most of his classes if not topping them and if not he wasn't failing the rest other than one or two science/math-based (rumours say the school forged those marks so that Steve could continue sports) and had a 3.6 GPA. It wasn't enough to get into his Dad's alma mater so his dad dismissed any of the other schools he got accepted into.

He does not try to hide his intelligence from Nancy or the Party, but Nancy had bought into the "Steve is simple-minded " narrative and the like before they got together and failed to realize that they are both in the same AP classes that were full of seniors and in any group or partnered project he more-than-well pulled his weight and had his own insights. So she spreads the narrative to Mike who spreads it to the rest of the party so by the time the events that befan with Dustin asks him for help with his "dog" and developed into concussed in the back of a car while a preteen drove his car, the kids have also bought into parts of the narrative. It doesn't help that he really isn't into the stereotypical nerdy stuff

Even his best friend Robin believed the lie until she worked with him and then got tortured with him by Russians. She eventually realises that he's way smarter in a practical sense than people give him credit for (he did raise himself since he was 11 or so) but does not think of it as stretching into the academic side of his life. She has not stopped calling him "dingus" though.

Eddie on the other hand knows better, which is why when a specific exam was coming up he turned to Steve.

He barged into the Harrington home a day when tye entire party was their.

"Stevie, you either have to tutor me or lend me your notes for this class. I am not failing this class and increasing the possibility of another year at fucking Hawkins."

Mike and Dustin burst out laughing at that before Steve can answer.

"I know you're e bad at that subject, but I didn't realise you were desperate enough to use Steve's notes," Dustin says with that condescending tone that means it should be obvious to Eddie.

Mike snorts at that derisively, "If he even has notes."

"Maybe," Lucas said diplomatically, "there are better options than using Steve's notes?"

Nancy steps up next offering some of her notes and flashcards since she took the class last year/is taking the class, "It's not my strongest subject but if we do a study group I'm sure you won't fail the class."

Eddie stares at the group with growing bewilderment as they agree that Nancy is the best choice while implying that Steve was not. Actually, they were acting as though he was dumb for even asking Steve, which made no sense to him.

Eddie turned his eyes to Steve. His posture by the kitchen island was much more different than when Eddie burst in. He had subtly curled into himself as if to make himself smaller, shoulders tense and a resignation on his face as if he's been through this conversation so many times before.

It was almost as if...

"You guys think that Steve is dumb, don't you?"

There was the type of silence that only comes when the quiet part is said outloud.

"No we don't think Steve's dumb," Robin begins and Eddie can hear the 'but' before she even said it, "But you know he wasn't good at the school part of school."

She continued to ramble on from there but Eddie did not hear any of it. He was too busy reevaluating the group he was with and rechecking old memories and facts to see if there was any inkling of truth to this strange idea that even the older teens should know isn't true.

It took him a moment to find the answer, and when he did he could not stop the derisive laugh that burst out and interrupted Robin's ramble.

"You guys fucking bought into the rumours, didn't you? I expect that from the kids maybe even Johnathan, maybe even Robin because of you became friends after he left school, but not from you, Nancy."

Nancy had that look on her face that she got when she was ready to argue but Eddie steamrolled over it.

"Jesus H Christ! Weren't y'all together for a whole fucking year? How do you not know that he was at the top of his year when you were together? Unless you dismissed that in favour of believing the rumours that his parents paid for his grades and the school wanted to make sure he kept on playing sports?"

He paused for a second waiting for someone to contradict him, but the look on Nancy's face was one of scrambling to defend herself. He sighed at that; she still wasn't getting it and it a sweeping look at the others proved they were lost too.

"Even if they paid off the school he would not have been in the top ten of his year, he would be like Carver and Hagan whose parents paid and their grades were just good enough to get into a decent college without too many questions. And they would not have kept on giving him high grades after he stopped doing any kind of sport in his last 2 years at that dump. Hell if Hargrove wasn't such a fucking beast at sports he would have been told he would have to repeat his senior year with me."

"It's okay Eddie; leave it go." He turned a fake sunny smile with his eyes tightly shut towards Eddie as if to pacify him.

Eddie turned to Steve who had yet to say anything throughout Eddie's diatribe up until that moment. He just continued to robotically make dinner for the party as though nothing was wrong, as though the hurt dripping off him didn't matter.

"I'm not letting this go! They had classes with you, some of which I'm pretty fucking sure were AP classes. If I had the attendance needed I would have graduated last year because of you, Stevie. So excuse me if I'm a bit annoyed that our friends are so blinded by a rumour that they can't fucking see your Salutatorian medal. Hanging. Right. There!"

All eyes except Eddie and Steve's turned in the direction that Eddie pointed at.

And there on the wall, was a framed silver medal with the word "Salutatorian" emblazoned on it. The party immediately burst into chaos amongst each other.

"Now, pretty boy, are you gonna tutor me or what?"

Or it goes something like that, I'm not sure.

#dustin immediately tries to bring up D&D and immediately gets shut down #later they collectively lose their shit when they find out he got into a college #pre steddie #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson

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souliebird · 8 months

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[[and then I met you || ch. 2]]

Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit

Summary:

A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to protect his new family from not only Hell's Kitchen but from the world.

pt: 1

words: 6.3k

tag list:

@midnightreids @cloudroomblog @yeonalie @thychuvaluswife

@dorothleah @mattmurdocksstarlight @mars-on-vinyl @mywellspringoflife @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @simmilarly @soupyspence @darkened-writer @akila-twt

@murc0ckmurc0ck @groovycass @sumo-b98 @just3rowsing @tongueofcat @zoom1374@theclassicvinyldragon @aoi-targaryen

"Mommy, look!"

Minnie calls out from the living room and you look up from finishing up an invoice. She is plopped on the ground, surrounded by a sea of crayons, proudly holding up her latest masterpiece: a series of different colored overlapping circles. You, as usual, have no idea what you are supposed to be looking at, but that doesn't stop the support you give your daughter.

"That's so good, Mouse. You picked such pretty colors." She beams at you and you return the smile, your heart feeling so full. You love her so much and you want only the best for her and you hope - pray - bringing her father into her life is the right choice.

Your meeting with Matt went so much better than you ever thought it could go. He wants to be in Minnie's life and that makes you nervously excited. You have absolutely no inkling of how things are going to change moving forward, and a huge part of you is terrified but another part can't wait for Minnie and Matt to get to know each other. You keep going over your admittedly short conversation trying to remember all the little tics you saw that reminded you of Minnie. You want to know what else she inherited from him.

You tell yourself those thoughts are for later and force them away so you can get back to work. It is getting close to bedtime and you have a few things to tidy up before you can clock out.

Luckily, Minnie has gone back to her drawing, scribbling away while Scooby Doo plays silently on the television and you are able to work in peace. Ten minutes later, you close out your VPN and leisurely stretch out in your chair, watching your little angel do her thing.

You are worried about her reactions to the change. Unfortunately, one of the things she got from you is your anxiety - your little one's nickname is Mouse for a reason. She is a quiet timid little thing who loves to watch and observe - like a little church mouse. You joke you need to put a bell on her because she can walk right by you without making a single noise. Her quiet nature doesn't mesh well with strangers.

You've been taking her to daycare more, hoping socializing will help, and it has, but that is worth other kids. You don't know how she'll react to a new adult in her life who she would have a more casual relationship with. You have no family and the few friends you have have known her since she was a baby.

Minnie knows what a dad is but she's never asked where hers is and you certainly haven’t brought it up to her.

But now you have to.

You need to figure out what the best approach would be. You know it has to be slow and steady, but you don't know if you should introduce Matt to her as her father or not. The biggest change she's been through is going to daycare and that took ages. She hated it.

She hates being around strangers for extended periods.

Out and about? She is okay. She's shy and likes to hide behind your leg instead of talking to people, but she doesn't complain.

But when she has to sit and interact with someone new? She can get fussy. It's not just her being shy, she gets physically uncomfortable.

She has no problems if it's just the two of you or someone she knows, but strangers? It can turn into a tantrum, depending on her mood.

You've discovered a few methods to make her more comfortable. You have about fifteen pairs of child sized noise canceling headphones, your bag is full of little things to distract her, and she has her Pig.

You think introducing her to Matt where she can sit and color and block him out if she wants is the best course of action and to achieve that, you don't think you can tell her the truth right away. She might feel some pressure to Behave because Dad is an authority figure. Not to mention what she would feel if she started asking questions; like why he hasn’t been around.

She's curious but she's also three and unpredictable.

She could immediately go into tantrum mode.

She could not care at all and want to color instead.

You hope Matt understands all of this and doesn't want to jump right into being a Father.

Whatever that entails.

A change in colors and tones on the television catches your attention and you push yourself away from your desk.

"Okay, sweetie, Scooby is over, time to get ready for bed."

Minnie finishes her scribble then drops the crayon on the ground. You wait as she climbs up into her feet and starts to pick up her mess - her crayons go into a pail one at a time. You don't know what goes on in her mind, but as long as she's doing what she is supposed to be, you don't rush her.

There's no lollygagging with your sweet girl, anyways. Once the crayons are in their bucket, she puts that under the coffee table, then picks up her drawing pad and brings it to you. You scoop her up and start towards the bedroom, as she admires her drawings.

"What do you want to read tonight?" You ask.

"Spot!" is the instant reply and you should have guessed that. You've been reading the same book for over a week now, but you don't mind. You'd rather read the same thing over and over than hunt for something she does want to read for an hour.

Getting ready for bed is something that usually goes smoothly and you are lucky tonight is no different. Minnie is already in her pajamas, so it's just turning down the sheets and getting her all tucked in before you start to read. You keep an eye on the time as you do - you have a half hour before Matt said he would call.

If he does call.

He said he would and you are trying to be hopeful that he will. You've been disappointed so many times in the past - not just by lovers but everyone. People promise to call, to text, to follow up and they never do. They say you can do something together then cancel at the last minute. You are used to that disappointment, but you don't want Minnie to experience that. You want her to feel loved and wanted.

You know it's not fair to Matt, but to you the call is a sort of test he doesn't know he is taking.

Will he call? Will he call on time?

The more you think about the call, the more anxious you get. There's too many thoughts starting to gather.

The meeting could have been a fluke and now that he's thought it over, he doesn't want to be a dad.

Or he wants to be a dad but not with You. What if you are the problem?

"Mommy," Minnie shakes you out of your thoughts, looking up at you with big brown eyes. "Next page!"

You nod and force your focus back to the book, turning the next page and letting your daughter open and close all the flaps that hide different elements to the story while you read. It's hard to get lost in the simple words and story, but Minnie is used to her routine and by the time you reach the last page, she's leaning heavier into your side.

You place the book on her nightstand, trading it for her sleep headband. She tilts her head forward and you help get the band on and snuggly over her ears.

"How's that feel, Mouse?"

"Quiet," Minnie replies, like she does every night, sliding down under her blankets. Her little hands tug at the band so the sleep mask part is over her eyes. You smile, forever grateful your little one likes to sleep. You wait while she settles, then kiss both of her cheeks.

"Sweet dreams, my little angel."

"Sweet dreams, Mommy," she replies, voice full of sleep. You triple check she's tucked in nice and snug and that Pig is within reach, then turn off the light. You leave the door open a crack, just in case, then return to the living room.

There's a small mess leftover from dinner and you start cleaning that up. Usually, after you put Minnie down for bed, you'd enjoy a few hours of television or catching up on whatever you needed to, but after finishing the dishes, you don't know what to do.

There's only a handful of minutes until the promised call time and all you can do is just stand in the kitchen. You debate going to get a notebook so you can keep notes, but you don't want to have the whole conversation about how you want to move forward over the phone. Maybe you jot down ideas of what you two want to cover in person? Matt might have questions you haven't even thought of yet.

You should find a pen and paper. It's better to be prepared than not. You tell yourself that but you still don't move. You just stare at your phone.

As the seconds creep by your throat starts to get tight.

What are you going to do if he doesn't call?

Would it be awkward to call him instead? Or is that overbearing? You don't want to come off as overbearing - that might make Matt view you in a negative light and that would definitely have consequences in his relationship with Minnie. You desperately want that relationship to be good and not be influenced by any issues the two of you might have. You would hate yourself if the reason Matt didn't want to be around Minnie was you.

The thought makes your stomach twist.

You're definitely not going to call him tonight if he doesn't call you. You can send a text in the morning - something with no pressure.

But he said he preferred calls instead of text.

Would a call be accusatory? You feel like a morning call would be accusatory.

You can push it to the afternoon, that would give him time to call in the morning, as well.

You're ripped from your paranoid thoughts as your phone screen lights up with Matt's name. Shock overtakes your system and it takes a moment before you scramble to answer.

You state your name as your greeting, totally trying to pretend you weren't just spiraling.

"Hey, it's Matt.. Matt Murdock."

His words are soft spoken, on the edge of shy, and it throws you. You understand why his nerves would be rattled but you didn't think he'd advertise that. Your brain screams at you to comfort him and you focus on that instead of your own panic.

"Hey…um, how are you doing?"

Matt chuckles into your ear, low and throaty, making the knot your stomach has become loosen a bit, "Adjusting." He pauses a beat, then adds, "I can't stop thinking about you and Winifred…Minnie."

Your cheeks burn.

You can't tell him you haven't stopped thinking about him either - that feels like a very weird thing to admit, even if it is the truth.

You don't know what to say, so your mouth decides for you, blurting out, "I didn't think you'd call…"

"You didn't…?" The undercurrent of hurt in his voice makes you feel like you've kicked a puppy. You quickly backtrack.

"I have a tendency to overthink and get in my head," you say, hoping you aren't coming off like an idiot. "I worked myself up."

You turn your back to the kitchen counter, then slide down the cabinets until you are sitting on the ground. You bring your knees up, using them to prop up your elbows.

"I'm glad you did call," you admit, asking your mind to please stop, "I'm sorry, this is awkward, can we start over?"

"Of course," Matt's voice is soft in your ear, but you can hear him smiling, "Should I hang up and call back?"

"No, no, not that far back," you practically mumble, biting your lip. "How about…was your meeting okay? Can I ask that or is it attorney - client privilege?"

Matt hums, sounding like he's thinking over the answer, before answering, "No, that's not covered. It was pretty standard for that client - whether that means it went okay is up for interpretation. No one is in jail, so I would consider it a win."

You aren't sure what that means, but you want to be supportive. "That sounds like a win."

"What about you, how was your evening?"

The question makes you laugh a little, only because you think you live a very boring life, "Very quiet and calm. No one ended up in jail on this end either."

"So not a family of trouble makers?" Matt asks, a slight tease in his voice.

You smile into your knees, replying with a shy, "No, I'm afraid we're rather boring. I hope that is okay."

"I think it's a win."

Oh, you forgot how charming he was.

He carries on, voice dropping back to a softer tone, "What does a quiet and calm night mean for the two of you?"

You consider the question with a little smile before answering, "We usually start with a nice walk to the park. Minnie likes to play in the afternoon, there's less kids to hog the see-saw."

"She likes the see-saw?"

"She loves the see-saw," you say, smiling at the memory of your daughter on the playground. "She likes to…bounce? The see-saw lets her go high. She's too small for bounce houses, so she gets her fix where she can." Matt huffs a laugh into your ear and you continue on, "After the park, it's standard toddler afternoon stuff. Dinner and a bath. Playtime and television before bed. I work from home, so I usually get a few hours in before Minnie gets put down for bed. Then, um, more work for me. Or paying bills. Online shopping. Adult things I can do from the couch."

"You work from home?" Matt asks and you can't remember if you had previously mentioned that. Your whole previous conversation is now suddenly a total question mark.

"Yeah, um, I work in billing. The company is in international shipping, so time zones aren't really an issue. As long as I log forty hours a week, I can break it up as I want. It makes being a working mom a lot easier." You nibble your lip, unsure about what to really say, so you say the obvious, "You have your own law firm?"

"I do. You met my partners earlier, Foggy and Karen," he sounds proud, just a little bit, and that warms your heart.

"I read about a few of your cases last night," you admit, "The papers said you help a lot of people."

Matt doesn't respond right away, but when he does, you find yourself smiling more. "We try to. People here are getting by paycheck to paycheck, they can't afford a lawyer when their landlords try to push them out so they can get someone in to pay higher rent. They need someone to fight for them, and this is our community - Foggy and I grew up here. This is our city." He pauses and you can picture him scrunching up his brow, "You said you saw the interview last night. You had time to read over our cases?"

Embarrassment courses through you.

"Only what was in the news and I didn't read in depth. I just…" You shrug, even though you are talking over the phone, "I wanted to make sure it was in Minnie's best interest to reach out." You bite your lip again then, wanting to be honest with Matt, you add, "I mean, we only spent one night together and we didn't really discuss…much. I knew you were a lawyer, but you could have been like…a lawyer for some awful celebrity or something. If you were out there and the papers were saying you were vile I wouldn't have just…shown up at your doorstep. Metaphorically. I only have your work address."

"That makes sense," Matt replies and you have the feeling he really does get it, "you want to keep her safe, to keep both of you safe. I'd do the same in your position. Actually…I guess I do need to do the same, because we don't really know anything about each other." He pauses, then teases, "Unless there's news articles about you I need to catch up on?"

You huff at the thought, "No, nothing that I am aware of."

"Then we will have to do it the old fashion way."

"Lunch." The words tumble out of your mouth and you resist the urge to bang your head against the cabinets. "We, uh, mentioned lunch. We could use that as a starting point? Give each other our People Resumes."

Matt laughs a little and it's warm, not mocking. You still bury your face into your knees.

"People Resumes - I like that. I have some pretty good references, if you need."

"I only have the one," you mumble, keeping your face hidden despite being alone. He laughs again.

"I think it's a pretty good one, though."

That makes you smile, "The best one around."

There's a beat where neither of you talk and you wonder what else to add.

"Will she be coming to lunch?" He asks, voice switching from confident and charming to slightly timid. Once again you are reminded of a kicked puppy and it makes your heart ache.

"I would like that," you start slowly and Matt seems to sense you have more to say, as he waits for you to continue. "I wanted to discuss it with you, first."

"Of course," his reply is so eager. "Anything."

"I was thinking…I think it would be best if Minnie gets to know you first before we tell her who you are. It's been the two of us for so long, I don't know how she'll react to a big change. I can introduce the idea to her over time, start talking to her about family and stuff while you two bond?" As you talk, the words start coming out a little faster as your nerves start to come back. "I think telling her up front might make her uncomfortable because like, you'll have a Title and Authority and that would override other things. I don't want to push her into anything she's not ready for yet."

You press your face into your knees and wait for Matt's reaction. You can hear him breathing and the slight clinking of what sounds like ice in a glass and you hope he understands your concerns.

He says your name so very softly and a shiver goes through you. You dig your teeth into your bottom lip and wait for the ax to fall.

"I think that would be a really good way to do things," Matt practically breathes into the receiver.

You squeeze your eyes shut tightly and relief just washes over you. "I…don't want to scare her." He hesitates, then starts in a stronger voice, "did your articles mention that I grew up in an orphanage?" They did and you say as much. "I was older than a lot of the kids and the little ones were scared of that. Scared of being adopted by strangers. I remember being scared of that. I got placed in a few foster homes and I hated being around people I didn't know." He takes a breath and it's a little shaky, "I want her to want me as her father."

Your heart skips in your chest and you bury your face into your knees more. "I don't think you have anything to worry about, Matt. You have a good heart, that's what matters. You just have to get to know each other, spend time together."

Matt hums softly into your ear, "Not just her, you as well."

"Me?" You ask, confused.

"You," he repeats. "I want to know the mother of my child. Of course I want to get to know you. You're the most important person in her life."

You just hadn't thought of that at all - your concern has been over Minnie. It completely makes sense that he would want to get to know you. He isn't just now in Minnie's life, but in your life.

You chew on your lips in thought, "Is…um.. Is there anything you'd like to know?"

"How about," he says, after a moment of thought, "the equivalent of what you read about me? That way we are on an even footing."

That wasn't the answer you expected but it makes a bit of sense in your head. You think about what you learned in the papers about Matt Murdock.

You start off by saying where you were born then move onto simple facts, "We moved to Long Island when I was about five and I lived there until I was eighteen. I moved into the city for school - Empire State University. I didn't know what I wanted to do so I got a degree in business. I figured I'd have a good foundation with that, you know? I got a pretty decent job in accounting - I'm still there actually. I uh…am a billing administrator…"

"Your parents?" Matt asks tentatively, like he already knows the answer.

"Gone." You say quietly, but firmly. Your parents aren't something you want to talk about and you hope he understands that. "It is just Minnie and I. And now you..."

"And now me…"

You can hear the smile in his voice and it makes you start to smile.

"I have no idea how to be a father," he admits after a beat.

"It's okay, I didn't know how to be a mother. I'm still learning - I've read stuff and some things don't apply to Minnie. Or the opposite, she does something and I can't find anything that applies? And it's not like I'm just gonna drop her on you and disappear. It's…I want you to be comfortable as well? That's why I think just meeting each other will be a good start. We can go from there? Do little hang outs and stuff and build up, if that's what you want," you know you're starting to ramble but you keep going. "I think somewhere she is comfortable would be good? There's a diner in Hell's Kitchen she really likes - we could meet there for lunch? If she gets too overwhelmed, I can give her something to distract her, but you can still interact with her? She's a bit shy around new people and pressuring her to really…um.. engage might be a lot? A big thing for her is parallel play, so I'm hoping maybe just hanging out around you if she's nervous might help until she's more comfortable?"

You close your eyes tightly, a little embarrassed at your dumping of ideas, but Matt takes it all in stride, giving a curious, "What is parallel play?"

You lick your lips before answering, "Being in the same space, but doing your own thing? Like two kids coloring together but not talking."

"Ah, I got it. I didn't know there was an actual name for that." There's another pause and you can hear ice clinking against glass again. You wonder if you should get up off your kitchen floor and get yourself a drink, but you decide against it. The only thing you should be drinking is water. "What is the diner?"

You tell him the name of the diner and to your surprise, he chuckles, "I know the place. It's on the same block as Foggy's parents' butcher shop. She has good taste."

"When she gets fussy and doesn't want to eat anything, it's something I know she'll always eat. She'll have her own booth by the time she's five."

Matt laughs again and you can feel all the anxiety you had before the call bleeding away. He's been open to everything you've had to say so far and there's been no hint of negative feelings.

Maybe things will be okay.

"She can share Foggy's booth," Matt says, no idea your mind keeps trying to freak out over nothing. "We went there for lunch almost every day when we were working out of the shop."

"You worked out of a butcher's shop?" You ask, thinking you must be misinterpreting something.

"We did," he says, sounding a little sheepish, "I took a hiatus from…everything really and Foggy went to work for another firm. While we were reestablishing, his parents graciously allowed us to work out of their shop."

Part of you wants to ask about his hiatus, but the way he says it gives you a feeling you should leave it alone, so you do. You focus on another aspect instead. "So we've been going to the same diner, we just kept missing each other."

It is sobering to say - the father of your child was always right there, but fate let you skirt around each other for years. It hurts to think about, your mind whispering at you if you had just tried harder to look for him, you would have found Matt. If you had just seen him earlier, how different would things be? What if you had been there at the same time, but you just hadn't been paying attention to your surroundings? It isn't like he knew to be on the lookout for a fling from years ago - how would he have even noticed you?

You wonder if he is thinking the same thing - that you probably missed each other because you weren't paying attention.

"Don't do that," your attention is yanked away from your guilt by Matt's strong voice, "I can hear you thinking, blaming yourself."

"Is it that obvious?" You ask quietly, cringing just a little bit. Are you really such a mess he can tell over the phone?

"You said you overthink and work yourself up. You got quiet, so I assumed and I guess I was right. There's no way you could have known and why would you have been looking there?" He sounds so sure you feel guilty over feeling guilty.

"I know, I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize. There's nothing to apologize for."

You bite your lip then force your head up and away from your knees. You should get up and get a drink - change how your body is. Maybe it will help in keeping your mood from dipping back down. You take a breath and start to get up.

"Thank you…um.. What day would you want to meet?" You ask, trying to push past the awkwardness and into another direction. You hear him take a drink and decide you do want some water. You start to look around your living space, trying to locate your water bottle.

You spy it across the room in all its rainbow sticker glory and make your way across the room as Matt starts to speak, "I wish I could say tomorrow, but we have to meet with the D.A. tomorrow and I can't miss it. I hate that I can't miss it. But Saturday? Can we meet Saturday?"

You'd have a day to prepare. You would definitely need a day to prepare. "Saturday is perfect. Is 11:30 okay? That's when we try to have lunch."

"That is perfect," Matt replies, mirroring your own. "Saturday at 11:30."

A giddy little shock goes through you - it's not just an idea anymore. Minnie will be meeting her father and he wants to be in her life. He's eager to be in her life.

You never thought that would be the case.

"Saturday at 11:30," you repeat, just to confirm and because you can. It feels good to say.

"I feel like I should dress to impress," he says with a chuckle and you wonder if he is feeling giddy as well.

"I don't think she will care, unless you have a shirt with a cartoon character she likes on it."

There's a few seconds of silence, then Matt's soft curious voice is back, "What characters does she like?"

The question makes you laugh a little because your little girl changes her preferences at the flip of a hat, like any other kid.

"Right now? Scooby Doo and Oscar the Grouch."

"I don't think I have anything with those characters," he says with an amused huff, "but I'll see what I have."

You bite your lip, then let yourself be a bit teasing, "Do you have a lot of graphic tees?"

There's a long moment of quiet before Matt laughs. It's a deep rumble and you find yourself grinning as you grab your water bottle.

"I actually don't know. I don't wear a lot of t-shirts. I think a few have designs on them - at least a few Columbia ones. I wouldn't put it past Foggy to give me something with a cartoon on it, though," he muses.

"I'm sure she will not judge you on your fashion choices," you point out, "She's three and doesn't understand what fashion is. If she did, I would be in trouble."

"Do you have a lot of graphic tees?" Matt asks, throwing the question back at you. It is your turn to laugh.

"I'm the proud owner of many graphic tees. It's practically the only thing in my wardrobe, top wise. The benefits of working from home."

"Unfortunately, court has a dress code. Or so I'm told. I don't think I've ever read it."

"Jury duty has a dress code," you point out, "It was mostly show up clean and not in athletic wear. I didn't get a good look at the lawyers, but I'm pretty sure I remember suits."

"Would you trust a lawyer in a graphic tee?" He asks and you have to pause to think it over.

"Going into their office? I don't think so, unless it was like casual Fridays. But if I met a lawyer in the street on their off day and they had on a graphic tee? I suppose so. Depending on what they are telling me."

"Do you often get your legal advice from random lawyers on the street?" You can practically hear his eyebrows raising up and your cheeks are starting to hurt from smiling.

"Of course not. I get it from Google. I can't afford a lawyer."

That earns you another bark of laughter. "I don't think that will be an issue any longer."

That sets off a little anxiety in your stomach. You don't want to think about needing a lawyer, whether it be Matt as your lawyer or a lawyer against Matt.

He doesn't seem to notice your dip in mood, not that it is particularly obvious, and moves to the next topic.

"Speaking of, I haven't gotten the chance to look at the packet you gave me. It's there anything I need to get done before Saturday?"

You turn your mind away from the thoughts of lawyers and legal battles to something much more manageable: medical history.

"No, no, there's nothing that urgent. It's mostly just medical information - she's got some sensitivities and I want to make sure I'm prepared for anything in the future. The rest is just information for you."

Matt doesn't respond right away and you chance taking a swig of your water.

"Sensitivities…?" There is a thick undercurrent of concern in his voice and you feel a little guilty for making him worry.

"Fabrics and dyes and scents, that kind of thing? I haven't gotten her tested, but certain things just make her itch. Some foods, too. I try to stick to organic stuff and it seems to help a little. It isn't anything major, just a few changes when she lets me know there's something bothering her." You set your water bottle down as you talk, starting to walk around your small living room. "I read it's becoming more common in kids, because all the chemicals and stuff used in everything now. Some of the other moms at daycare have given me tips - laundry soap was the best one."

You are reminded you actually need to do some laundry and as you walk, you grab the various throw blankets littering your apartment.

"I see," Matt says slowly, still sounding concerned. "I actually prefer organic myself, I have some sensitivities as well."

"Any allergies?" You ask. You didn't have any yourself so it has always left you guessing what your little girl might react to.

"No, nothing that I know of. I'm not completely sure about family history, but it is something I can look into."

"I would appreciate it. I'd rather be overly cautious than not have anything," you say casually like you aren't completely obsessive about keeping your daughter healthy.

As you make your way to the bathroom to grab dirty towels, phone between your shoulder and ear, he hums into your ear. "I think that is a good way to do things. I'll try to get the information back to you as soon as possible."

You don't want to chide him, but you can't help but frown a little, "Matt, you don't need to rush. I…was worried you wouldn't be…interested. That is why I put the packet together. I thought you'd want to deal with that instead of going to a doctor's office?"

"I'll go with you to the doctor's," he says instantly, "And I'll fill out the paperwork. It's something I want to do."

You can't argue with that because you would be the same way. Still, you push, "I don't need it by Saturday. Please take your time?"

"Ok," he concedes but it feels like he is only doing so to appease you. But you will take it.

You dump your laundry into the basket stored in the hallway with a little grunt. Almost immediately Matt is saying your name and asking if you are okay.

"Yup, yup, just trying to get some cleaning done while I can. Sorry for doing that in your ear."

"Do you need to go?"

Your heart pangs with guilt at the question. You can feel the disappointment through the phone and you're quickly reassuring him, "No, I'm just picking up a few things, tidying up, you know. I will try to not -"

You are cut off as the door to the bedroom pushes open and Minnie shuffles out. Her headband is pulled down around her neck and she's rubbing at her eyes with one hand, the other limply holding Pig. You only just put her down so you are instantly concerned.

"Mouse? Is everything okay?"

Matt says your name again, "what's going on?"

You ignore him in favor of going to your daughter. She holds up her arms and you scoop her up, cradling her to your chest.

"There's a monster outside," Minnie mumbles, burying her face in your neck.

"There's a monster outside?" You confirm with her, still speaking into your phone.

"A monster?" Matt repeats, clearly confused, as your little one nods against you.

"Okay, let's go check," you tell her, before finally answering the questions coming through the speaker, "Something woke Minnie up. I'm sorry, I do think I need to go now."

"Is everything okay?" Matt sounds worried and something stirs in your chest at his concern.

"It will be, we just need to go tell a monster to go home," you say, gently bouncing Minnie in your arms to soothe her, "Isn't that right, baby? We gotta tell him to go home."

She nods against you again, parroting in a sleepy little voice, "Go home."

You hear some rustling on the other end of the phone, the clicking of a door opening and the rush of wind. Matt must have stepped outside.

"Are you sure?"

His distress is sweet, in a way. You remember being terrified of every little upset when Minnie was a baby, but now you have gotten your groove.

"Yeah, we will be okay. It's just gonna take a bit to get her back to sleep," you say, carrying her into the bedroom. "I'll…um..we'll see you on Saturday? At 11:30?"

"Saturday at 11:30," Matt confirms. "I…" he trails off, then clears his throat. "Have a good rest of your night."

"Good night, Matt."

Minnie mimics you again, mumbling, "Good night, Matt" just as you hang up. You wonder if he heard it, or if it was cut off.

You hope he did.

You drop your phone off on the bedside table and bring Minnie over to the window. You are a few stories up and your bedroom overlooks an alleyway, as most do in the city. You hold your toddler with one arm and carefully unlock the window to open it about halfway. On the windowsill, there is a yellow mini spray bottle, covered in stickers like everything you own - you pick it up and offer it to Minnie.

She takes it, turning her little body to face the window. She aims it at the window screen and squeezes the trigger, sending out a little stream of Monster Repellent.

"Go home, Monster," you say together. She gives another squirt before looking up at you.

"Is it gone?"

"Give him a few minutes and he'll be gone," you promise, taking the spray bottle and putting it back in its spot, "He's gotta pack up his Monster Suitcase before he goes home, but he won't bother you."

She flops her head back down on your shoulder as you turn to bring her back to bed.

"Do you want me to stay until you're asleep?" She makes an affirmative little noise

You start the process of tucking her back into bed with Pig, kissing her forehead before helping to pull up her noise canceling headband.

"Good night, Mouse."

"Good night. I love you, Mommy."

"I love you, too, baby. Sweet dreams."

#soulie writes #fanfiction #matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #daredevil

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