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#I don’t know how to be in this world without you
kenntolog · 24 hours
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Loser gf and cool bf sukunas almost first time with reader and she’s scared of how big he is so he just shows her how it’ll feel by dry humping her into the mattress
𝝑𝝔 an: this is literally my first time posting smut i feel so nervous heh, hope u like this dear anon!! reblog if you like, and don’t forget to read more about cool bf sukuna x loser gf reader here <33 nsfw!!
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cool boyfriend sukuna is so understanding with his loser girlfriend when it’s time to be intimate.
and a bit cocky, because he knows he’s big and your reaction only fuels his ego more; he leads your hand down onto his crotch while his lips move over yours and your mouth opens in a small gasp, causing him to smirk and pull away to watch your face.
“i’ll make you feel so good, baby,” he whispers, leaning down to kiss you ear, but your body tensing under his hands makes him stop as he looks at you carefully. “m?”
when he spots your embarrassed expression, sukuna stares at you questioningly. you don’t meet his gaze though, looking around the room aimlessly as you bite on your lower lip. fingers fiddling with the collar of his shirt and looking all around nervous under him — the realisation dawns upon him quickly as he readjusts himself over you.
“you don’t wanna do it, do you?” he asks sincerely. at that you nearly jump up, face turning red as you shake your head no.
“i-i do! i wanna do it, but i’m kinda scared, ‘kuna,” you pout, sitting up a little. “m’sorry.”
sukuna almost coos at how incredibly cute you look while apologising, hand coming up to ruffle the hair on top your head with a small chuckle.
“don’t apologise, baby, we’ll just take it slow.” he kisses your chin, biting on it right after to make you whine as his hand once again moves lower to touch you through your pants. “i still wanna make you feel good tho.”
“yeah?”
he moves back, looking down at you with a playful smirk, and removes his clothes quickly, leaving only his boxers on. you don’t get time to admire his physique since he’s urging you to do the same with his nimble hands already helping you out of your pants.
sukuna’s movements stop when you’re left in your underwear, eyes silently asking if you want your bra removed too, and when you shake your head no he just nods, leaning closer to you.
he tries his best not to focus on the wet patch between your legs because the heat from your skin radiating on his is enough to make him crazy.
“what’re you doing, ‘kuna?” you ask, eyes a little bit hazy as you watch him settle in between your legs, his crotch hovering over yours. he rubs your clit through the thin layer of damp fabric, his smirk growing more satisfied as you gasp and grip his hand, small moans coming out of you.
sukuna leans down to kiss you, humming in delight when you eagerly respond to him, arms slithering around his neck to pull him closer. every time he puts a bit of pressure on your clit with his thumb your whines become longer and more broken, body aching and twirling under his hands, and sukuna mentally notes to think of more ways to make you sound like that.
and then he finally presses himself onto you, one hand circling around you hips to move you too, as your mouth opens in surprise, the prettiest moan coming out of it. the touch of his hard cock is a lot more firmer than his fingers, the sweet pressure making your breathing faster.
rolling his hips expertly, sukuna groans at the feeling of your juices staining his boxers along with his precum, the friction becoming even more delicious as he starts going a little faster. your moans match his pace, small fingers tugging at his hair as you utter his name like a prayer, looking up at him with the most beautiful expression in the world.
“how does it feel?” he sucks in your bottom lip, biting it softly, and a pleased laugh escapes him when your hips start rolling too, meeting his halfway without his help. “don’t… hah… stop—”
“‘kuna, please!”
“please what?”
you whine into his neck instead, too flustered to say the words and as much as sukuna wants to make you beg for it he knows that it’s your first time ever trying something like this so he lets it rest. another time, he thinks as his lips stretch into a sweet smile when he notices your body growing restless, craving more friction.
“are you close?”
you nod frantically, leaning your forehead against the side of his face, too embarrassed of your expressions, but sukuna doesn’t let you hide, hand under your jaw and fingers digging into your cheeks softly to hold your head still as he moves his hips faster.
“come.”
“sukunaa~”
“c’mon, baby, do it for me—”
you come with a loud cry, brows pinched together and mouth hanging open slightly as you pant heavily, hips still grinding uncontrollably to ride out the pleasure. barely registering sukuna’s face as he stares at you, in awe of the look on your face.
sukuna’s grip on your face softens as he places a sweet kiss on your puffy lips, falling to his side and pulling you into himself despite the mess between your bodies. that’s a matter for a bit later.
“you look so pretty when you come. wanna see you do it on my cock.”
you stare at him in distress before burrowing your face in his bicep, breathing him in unconsciously and refusing to comment on his dirty words. but sukuna isn’t pleased with that, hand once again cupping your jaw to make you look at him and stare down at you with lustful gaze and a menacing grin.
“you wanna try it next time, baby?”
you can only nod, a shy smile appearing on your lips at the sight of his excitement.
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yeosgoa · 3 days
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10:11 • ғᴇ̀ᴄᴏɴᴅᴇʀ (NSFW)
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♡ assistant!Hongjoong x witch!afab!reader
♡ academia, witch, smut
♡ WC • 3845
♡ Warnings!! (tags) • Sex potion, witchcraft, swearing, kissing, praise, spit/drool, dacryphilia, unprotected sex, edging, overstimulation, handjob, titjob, blowjob, manhandling, fingering, creampie, breeding, lactation, multiple positions, anal, knotting, semi-public sex, mutation, vampirism, reader wears long nails, reader has fangs, reader is implied to be shorter than Hongjoong. (pls lmk if I missed anything.)
♡ A/N: this isn't proofread, will do sometime in the future. féconder means fertilizer/pollinate in French if I'm not mistaken. Any French speakers feel free to correct me.
ೋ❀❀ೋ═══ ❀ ═══ೋ❀❀ೋೋ❀❀ೋ═══ ❀
 The rain pattered on the window rather heavily. You and your assistant, Hongjoong were in your school’s greenhouse, while you finished up on your latest potions and he read to you.
   “It is the eve of St. George’s Day. Do you not know that tonight, when the clock strikes midnight, all the evil things in the world will have full sway? Do you know where you are going, and what you are going to?” Hongjoong recited, pacing slowly back and forth behind you. The novel ‘Dracula’ is in his right hand while his left hand rests behind his back. His glasses perched right on his sharp pointed nose as he tilted his head to the side continuing. “She was in such evident distress that I tried to comfort her, but without effect. Finally, she went down on her knees and implored me not to go; at least to wait a day or two before starting. It was all very ridiculous but I did not feel comfortable. However, there was business to be done, and I could allow nothing to interfere with it. I th-”
   “Yes come here, business,” You interrupted right then, beckoning him over. Hongjoong placed a ribbon in between the pages before closing the ages-old novel. He walked over to you until you were side by side, and he looked down at you.
   “Yes, darling?” He raised a brow a bit, watching as you poured a yellowish iridescent liquid into a rather small goblet. “What's this?”
   You handed him the goblet, looking up into his eyes, “it’s supposed to suppress arousal.” You inform, turning back to the pot where you grabbed a bottle to store the rest in.
   “It’s supposed to make me not horny?” He clarifies, looking intently at the potion. You nod in response, “Exactly.”
   “How long is it supposed to take effect?” Hongjoong takes a smell of it, it smells of Gingko Biloba, Red Ginseng, and Yohimbe. There’s also a dollop of a poppy scent in there too. “I’m not sure, we'll just have to see.” You reply, watching the rain pour outside.
   Hongjoong takes a swig, swallowing the potion that felt rather thick in his throat. The taste itself was bitter but sweet. He could get past it.
   “It tastes like…like-” “Anti-horniness?” You turn your head a bit to notice a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Very much.” He answers, smacking his teeth. “What purpose was this for by the way?”
   You paused, thinking about it. Truth be told you actually weren’t sure why, but you could list reasons as to why. “Hmm…” You trailed off. “Maybe for uh… people who struggle to keep it in their pants? I don’t know. People who struggle with sex addiction?” Hongjoong nodded slowly, “I guess that could make sense.”
   There was a comfortable silence passing for a few minutes before Hongjoong felt his slacks tightening. Was this supposed to happen? He believed not, the potion is an arousal suppressant. He opted to keep it to himself, figuring it would go away quickly and that this was just a part of the process.
   However, more minutes passed, and Hongjoong’s breath grew heavy as his slacks suddenly felt twice as small. He let go of his novel and looked down at the floor. “...Y/n?”
   “Yeah?” You kept your eyes on your own spell book, skimming through pages without actually reading them. Your back was faced towards him, bent over the counter. His eyes fell on your ass which your long, tight godet skirt shaped perfectly. His breath hitched, his skin growing hot.
   “I… I don’t think this is a suppressant, Y/n.” He states. His cock is visibly hard, fighting against his slacks.
   “What do you mean, Joong? I-” You turn around to see the view. His cheeks flushed red, visibly sweaty under the layers he wore. His hands gripped the counter, and he gulped. “R-Read that spell again.” He stutters.
   You grab the spellbook, turning back to the page where you followed the steps to create the suppressant. Looking at the header you creased your brows. “Joong, it says aféconder, that’s a suppressant.” You say, feeling bubbling in your stomach. Hongjoong felt his stomach tighten himself, he shook his head. “No… it can’t. Let me see the book.”
   He leaned over and grabbed the book, skimming over the page with a deep sigh. “... oh Y/n…” he closes his eyes, placing the book back down. “Y/n, this is féconder. The ‘a’ was a stain.” Hongjoong pinches the bridge of his nose, turning away from you.
   You felt your mind slap you right across the face, and you rested your head in your hands, propped on your elbows. Your hands ran across your face, and through your hair, as you let out a soft but low groan. “Sorry, Joong,” you whisper, and you feel his hand rake up your back. “There has to be a way to reverse it, right?” he mutters, his voice huskier than usual. 
   “There’s no spells in this book that could reverse it, I believe.” You reply, flipping through the spellbook. “But… but we could try something else…?” You suggest, turning your head to look at him.
   “Like…?” He trailed off, brows creased. You turn to fully face him, and hesitantly you reach for his trousers. “We could do this the natural way…” you whisper, not wanting to make it awkward.
   Despite Hongjoong’s obvious distress, he looks at you with an unsure look. “We’re in public, Y/n,” he says, looking around the greenhouse.
   “But no one’s around, right?” You also look around, the rain had gotten heavier, and the doors to the greenhouse were closed. It was just you, Hongjoong, and the plants, along with the dim lights inside.
   Hongjoong gulped, feeling the knot in his stomach twist more before he nearly whined. “Please help me…”
   You didn’t waste time, he looked miserable. Your hands fumbled with the button and zipper of his trousers, then unclipped his suspenders. Your long, black French almond nails raked against his stomach, making him tense up. Hongjoong looked down at you as you cupped his painfully hard bulge, his eyes then fluttering shut as you rubbed him with your palm to at least soothe him.
   He let out a sensitive whimper. His hand then grabbed your jaw, pulling you up as he swooned down for a kiss, encasing your lips in his. At that moment your hand squeezed at the wet bulge in his underwear, feeling the beads of precum against your palm.
   With your finger hooked onto the waistband of his black underwear, and with one swift motion, you tugged it down to his midthighs. Pulling away from the kiss you cupped your hand under his lips, making him spit all his excess drool into it before taking his leaking, wet cock into said hand.
   Hongjoong whimpered again softly. Hair was already sticking to his sweaty forehead due to how strong the aphrodisiac was. He felt like he could cum untouched, but at the same time, it felt as if everything was holding itself in. The tip was drooling and deep red as if irritated, and as you started to pump his cock into your hand you could feel the veins on his shaft pulsating. You looked up at him, his pretty pink spit-covered lips slightly agape. He breathed like he was making noises, but only small broken whines and deep breaths left him. Certain strokes elicited no noises at all, his chest tightening and making him freeze, breath caught in his throat.
   Your eyes visibly dilated at the sight. He’s so pretty it hurts. You’ve taken note of your long-time friend, who was also your assistant’s beauty before, but you opted to keep the relationship platonic. This… is platonic, right? Having his pretty cock in your hand as he silently begs you to take care of the problem you caused him with your stupid mistake. Your honest but dumb mistake. A part of you was lowkey grateful about your unconsciousness though, because then you wouldn’t be here so close to him, seeing the drool dribble down his chin and eyebrows creasing in pain and pleasure. You could feel heat pool at your core, slick dripping onto your panties.
   “You alright, pretty?” You cooed softly, your free hand cupping his shoulder, your thumb rubbing against the fabric of his dress shirt. He let out a subtle nod, whining like a bitch in heat. The noise made your clit throb, your hole clenching around nothing. “You’re so pretty, Joongie..”
   You picked up the pace, running your thumbpad over his slit every time your hand got to his cockhead. You made sure to let your long nails brush against his full, purple-hued balls, and occasionally you would swoop down to massage them for a few seconds before coming back up and pumping his shaft again. Hongjoong sucked in a breath, biting the inside of his cheek. Your hand that was once on his shoulder went to the back of his neck, pulling him in for another kiss.
   Hongjoong slid his tongue into your mouth immediately. You could taste the bitterness from the potion when your tongue slid on his, forcing it into his mouth and running over the roof. Both moaned into each other’s mouths, and you grabbed his jaw, pulling back to spit in his mouth. Hongjoong swallowed it without hesitation, his hands trembling as his grip on the counter tightened.
   Your grip on his cock tightened. Your fingers felt every vein pulsate under your touch, and the shaft twitched. Your thighs shut against each other, and the hot slick gushed out your hole onto your panties, making a wet spot. You could feel a weighed pool, the aphrodisiac now in your system since you kissed Hongjoong.
   Eventually, you let off and unbuttoned your black Lolita-styled dress. Crossing your arms your fingers pinched at the shoulders of your sleeves, pulling them down until your breasts were exposed. Leaving a gentle kiss on his jaw you grazed your fangs down his neck, undoing his button-up and taking it off him. Hongjoong’s skin was covered in sweat, red and hot to the touch. His nipples erect under the caress of your hands, the buds feeling hard enough to hurt without any stimulation.
   Lifting your skirt you kneeled before him, making him lean against the counter for a better angle. You pulled off the rest of the top of your dress, bunching it to your waist as you unclipped your bra as well. Hongjoong’s eyes fluttered open, and he looked down at you.
   “W-What are you doing now?” he stuttered, watching you drool onto your tits. You look up at him and his lost expression, shaking your head. “Helping you, Joongie,” you mutter, rubbing your saliva over the valley of your mounds. Your hands running over your nipples make you moan, your cheeks heating to a pink flush. Hongjoong stutters out incoherent babbles, and his words are caught in his throat when your tits encase his cock between them, your mouth sealing around the cockhead. Hongjoong’s lips formed an ‘o’ shape, drool falling and directly hitting your tits. 
   You start to move, tongue swirling and gliding up and down his slit and tip, the salty, pearly beads of precum leaking into your tastebuds. Your hands hold firmly onto the sides of your boobs, guiding them up and down his shaft as your mouth goes to work on the head. Hongjoong’s shaky hands move from the counter, one raking up to move his wet hair and the other firmly seated on your head.
   “Y/n,” He moans out prettily, petting your hair. Your eyes flutter shut, focused on making him feel good while also trying to relieve him of the rather painful aphrodisiac. You moan softly around his cock, the vibrations of your hum making his balls tighten. Hongjoong whines out a pathetic “mm’ sorry-” before grabbing your head with both hands and shoving his cock down your throat. Your tits drop out of your hands and you choke a bit, taking a deep breath through your nose as he thrusts rather soppily, creaking out little ‘sorry’s and ‘please’s back to back. His voice cracked a couple of times, whimpering out your name. You grab onto his thighs, nails digging into the sides of them.
   Your chokes and gags on his cock echo throughout the greenhouse. The rather humid heat inside makes you yourself sweat as your hair sticks to your forehead and cheeks. You swallow around his cock, his head rubbing against the wet, plush oropharynx. 
   “G- I- gonna- gonna cum Y/n. m’ so close m’ gonna c-cum,” he whines, his thighs tensing up. He unintentionally pulls on your hair, making you whine out as tears sting your eyes. Your teeth nearly bite down on his cock, the slight graze making him stutter his hips.
   ‘F-Fuck do it again-” he whimpers. You suck and graze your teeth again over the veins of his cock, and without warning he spills into your mouth. You pull off, choking. His hands move to his cock, jerking desperately as his cum paints your face and hair. You squirm on your heels, your heels digging into your ass. You open your eyes and watch the last of his cum leak out, and you felt your nipples swell at the sight. Like before Hongjoong now grabbed your jaw, spitting whatever aphrodisiac he had left into your mouth. You swallowed, it was fair game.
   Getting up onto your now aching feet you let your dress pool at them, leaving you in your lace white panties. Both of you breathed heavily, your head against his chest as your arms ran down his biceps. His hands cupped your ass, pulling down your panties as he pressed his knee against your cunt.
   You whimpered, his knee rubbed against your clit before he lifted you up, sitting you down on the metal counter. The heat made you wince, sucking your teeth. 
   Hongjoong gave you no time to adjust, he hooked his arms under your knees and dragged you to the edge, opening your legs up for him. “H-have t’ fuck you,” he muttered, his cock still rock hard despite cumming seconds ago. 
   Your eyes met, irises fully taken up with dilated pupils as if you two were cats. You whimpered, and he spit on his hand, gathering your juices as he slid his hand up and down your slit. He entered a ringed finger into you, the cold silver eliciting a hiss from you. Pulling out he entered a second finger, both his ring and middle fingers curling up inside you. His fingers weren’t all that long but it felt so good. He managed to find spots inside your spongey walls that you hadn’t touched without having to go deep inside you, he was skillful in this as much as he was skillful with his large grand piano that he composed his music with.
   Hongjoong’s cock rubbed against the metal counter, the hot metal sending shivers down his spine as he felt his cock swell.
   When you had enough, you pulled off his fingers, grabbing his waist and pulling him to you. Hongjoong got the memo, slapping his wet cock onto your clit a few times before slowly inserting himself into your hole, making both of you let out loud gasps and whines. Hongjoong was average, about five and a half inches, but you could swear that when he went inside you you felt him grow to at least seven, or eight. His newfound girth stretched you out deliciously, and his manicured, painted nails raked against your thighs. Tears pricked at both your and Hongjoong’s eyes. He sniffled, his nose turning a shade of pink.
   “Fuck,” You whispered, laying against the counter. Your eyes fluttered shut, letting a couple of stray tears fall. Your gummy walls fluttered around him a few times before he started to move. His hands went to your swollen tits, fondling and massaging them. His palms were sweaty and covered in cum, fingers pinching and pulling at your nipples turning the hard buds to an irritated shade of red. 
   With every languid thrust, he hit deep inside you, balls touching the rim of your puckered asshole. The squelching noise of him moving inside you along with the soft claps of his balls against your ass made you feel lightheaded. Your assistant sniffled again above you, hand moving down to your waist as he started picking up the pace of his thrusts.
   Your hands moved to your fluid-covered face, covering your teary eyes as his cockhead hit into your cervix snuggly. You sniffled, opening your eyes to look up at the man above you, rutting into your pussy like a pup in heat.
   “You feel so good,” He sniffles, swallowing down whatever pathetic sound he may produce next. His head is thrown back, then falls forward as a babbling whine leaves his lips. “Wan m-make you feel g-good Y/n.”
   He sucks on the two fingers he used inside you before and rubs them on the rim of your ass before gently pushing inside. You gasp, moaning out loudly as he starts to move them rather languidly compared to his thrusts. The feeling of his cock hitting the right spots inside you quickly and his fingers in your ass going slow made you micro-orgasm, clenching around him as the genuine knot started to build in your tummy. “J-Joong-” You whimpered, before fluttering around his cock as you came, legs tensed up and wrapped around his waist. “Fuck it feels so good,” you sniffle again.
   Pulling his cock and fingers out you quickly sat up, shoving Hongjoong to a nearby discarded chair. You stumble off the counter, holding his shoulders as you open his legs, and hike a leg over his lap. Grabbing his face you stamp your lips against his once more, sinking down onto his cock. Despite just being connected the stretch makes both of you moan into each other's mouths, Hongjoong letting out a guttural, broken cry.
   You started to hump your clit against his pelvis, but that soon turned into bouncing heavily on his cock. The sound of wet slapping skin resonated loudly throughout the greenhouse, along with a now sobbing Hongjoong along with you. The rain attempting to drown out your sounds was almost futile, your head spinning and ears ringing. You didn’t want to stop, and neither did he. He pulled away from the kiss and grabbed your hips, guiding you up and down his shaft at his own pace.
   “Joong!” you cry out, holding the top rail with tears streaming down your flushed cheeks. His hands were firm on your hips, fingers tight enough you were sure it would cause bruising tomorrow. Your ass collided with his thighs harshly, causing red marks to appear on your plush and flushed ass cheeks.
   Lifting you and slightly hurling you over his shoulder, Hongjoong held your thighs, keeping your legs apart as he began pistoning up into you. You moaned at the sensation of being filled, physically feeling your womb protrude out from your stomach.
   Sitting you back down on him you started to bounce again, rather sloppily this time. Your lips formed in a pout as you whined, hums being produced every time his cockhead met your cum filled cervix.
   “D-Don’ wan’ stop,” you murmured, lips pressed against Hongjoong’s sweaty forehead in a sloppy forehead kiss. His black dilated eyes were glued onto you, tears also running down his cheeks. 
   You began grinding in circles, smothering his cock inside you. You both moaned out sweetly, fangs digging into your bottom lip drawing blood. Hongjoong reached upward, grasping your bottom lip with his teeth as he suckled on the blood. His tongue ran over your bottom lip before pulling away, looking up into your eyes. You started to bounce again, feeling your second orgasm impending.
   “all over y-your cock, Joongie,” you babble, your swollen lips blabbering nonsense as you clamp down onto him, the heavy bounces building up again.
   “Cum, please cum,” you whine, holding your orgasm back. “W-wan it all inside me.”
   Hongjoong started thrusting up again, syncing up in time with your bounces. It didn’t take much, as he started to spill inside your cunt once more, taking one of your breasts into his mouth. He suckled, and as you let go, milk flowed freely from your erect nipples. Hongjoong moaned at the sweet taste, lapping it all up.
   You shivered at the sensation, and Hongjoong pulled away with a pop as he flipped you over, bending you over the counter. With a smack to your ass, he entered your pussy from behind, grabbing a hold of your hair. “C-can’t stop-” he sobbed, pounding into you with no sign of slowing down any time soon. “Gonna keep cumming inside your fucking pussy.”
   “Please,” you whined, shutting your eyes. Your leaking tits raked against the metal counter, painting it a transparent white with your milk. Hongjoong’s hands sneaked from behind you, reaching around to grab your tits. Squeezing them, he pulled you up against his chest, his pelvis meeting the sore, red skin of your ass. Nonstop was he cumming again and again back to back. Your womb visibly protruded, sticking out like a sore thumb. He wrapped one arm around your tits, the other snaking down and feeling at your tummy, feeling the way his cock slid up and down inside you. 
   You came again for a third time without warning, legs shaking. Your eyes rolled back to the inside of your head, and a fourth came on when he didn’t stop.
   “O-oh- oh fuck!” Hongjoong cried, stilling inside you. You fell forward, grasping the counter. You felt his cock literally knot inside you. It grew in size and locked in you like a key. Cum filled you to the brim, you felt like you could vomit from how full you were. Hongjoong was shaking behind you, and he fell forward as well, arms caging you. 
   He whimpered softly, sniffling. Heavy pants and sniffles were shared between you as the last of his cum was milked from him. He finally started to soften, and slowly pulled out of you as your minds went back to being levelheaded. His cock departed with a soft, wet pop, and loads of cum pumped out of you in what felt like gallons onto the floor below.
   “Gosh…” He breathed out, taking a deep sigh. Your legs trembled, and you, exhausted, kept yourself laying forward on the counter.
   “S-So full,” You murmured, the last of his cum spilling out before your womb felt relieved again. Your skin cooled down, the aphrodisiac starting to wear off on the both of you.
   Hongjoong gently scooped you up and sat you down into his lap, as you both regained clarity. He nuzzled his nose into your hair, closing his eyes.
   “Thank you,” He murmured softly.
   “I'll be careful next time,” you murmur back, taking deep breaths.
   “Yeah, make sure it's afèconder, not fèconder.”
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Text
The hour in-between
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pairings: Levi Ackerman x reader
genre: fluff
summary: Levi Ackerman, humanity's strongest soldier and weakest sleeper. You’re not surprised to find him sneaking out of bed to be reunited with his paperwork, but you are touched that he still holds you in his arms until you have reached a deep slumber before he slips away.
Tonight you catch him returning to your side, determined to spend time with him before the world wakes.
word count: 1,301
ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55489207
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The gentle tapping of the rain hitting the window greets you as you slowly wake, blearily rubbing your eyes with a small yawn. You turn your vision towards the window, watching as the moon's silver rays peek through the gaps in the ageing curtains. You can’t gauge its position, but from the owl happily cooing outside, you can guess the hour is still late. It’s too late for most to be awake as the headquarters lies still, nestled safely within the walls and protecting its dedicated soldiers as they rest. 
All but one, you surmise as you notice the distinct lack of weight around your waist and the cold spot in the bed next to you.
The dim candlelight that bleeds in from the connected office, flowing through the slightly ajar door, confirms your thoughts. You roll your eyes as you snuggle deeper into the cosy blanket you are wrapped up in. After all, if he wants to forfeit such a luxury, then it’s only fair that you benefit from all of its plush -and expensive- fabric. 
Levi Ackerman, humanity's strongest soldier and weakest sleeper. You’re not surprised to find him sneaking out of bed to be reunited with his paperwork, but you are touched that he still holds you in his arms until you have reached a deep slumber before he slips away to his desk, only returning to your sleeping form at an unholy hour in the morning. 
You wish that he could fully relax, to enjoy the luxuries of sleep for longer than a few hours each night, yet no matter what either of you do to try and help, it continues to elude him. The scars run too deeply for the issue to be fixed that easily.
You quickly close your eyes as the light is suddenly snuffed from the world, the soft padding of bare feet on the cold wood grows clearer the closer he gets.
The creaking of the bed echoes around the deathly quiet room, the whispered swears that follow bring a small smile to your lips as you feel the mattress beside you dip to accompany him. You do your best to pretend to sleep as he slips close behind you, bringing a strong and toned arm around your form to pull you closer to his chest.
You feel his body relax against yours, a small sigh brushing past your ear as he nuzzles his face against your neck. These hours are just for you and him, where all the mental walls have been lowered without worrying about someone else peering past them. Where you can both be regular humans, not soldiers with appearances to keep up and masks to hold in place.
All things considered, these are your favourite hours. 
You would never admit out loud how you’ve slowly adapted to waking up just in time to catch him returning, to feel him curl around you and to finally relax and let himself be just Levi. Within these four walls, once the light of day has faded, you get to love without worry and to experience love the way the people you fight to protect experience it.
“I know you’re awake, you’re such a shit actor.” 
The murmured words cause you to jump and you can feel his smirk against your skin. Levi slowly repositions himself, his elbow digging into the pillow as he now leans over you instead. You can’t help but stare up at him, taking in the way his dark fringe hangs down over his face. The way the silver of his eyes seems to glow within the light of the moon. You know he would scoff at the thought, but he looks angelic as he looks down at you.
“What gave it away?” Your words come out reluctantly, your body still shaking off the embers of sleep.
“Most people don’t have a dopey smile on their face when they sleep. Your breathing also gave you away.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Ackerman.” You reply with a small pout, while you do your best to fight back the mentioned smile.
“Uh huh,” Levi’s eyes shine with affection despite his usual flat expression. His hand finds your own among the sea of fabric between you, his fingers gently intertwining with yours. You watch as he casts his eyes over your thoroughly tucked-in state, his eyebrows rising with silent amusement.
“Will I be getting any of that back?”
“Depends,” you keep your voice light as you pull the ends of the cover closer to your chin, embracing the warmth he’s trying to reclaim. 
“On what?”
“Will you be staying for the rest of the night? Or will I snatch this blanket back in a few hours after you sneak off to betray me for paperwork? Cause I’m very comfy, you know.”
His eyes soften as he slowly pulls at the blanket until he can slip alongside you underneath it. You happily shuffle closer to press up against his broad chest once more, to feel that missing weight return to your waist as his arm gently settles into place. You wrap yourself around him as much as you can, using both your arms and legs to cling to him tightly.
As you wiggle your leg to get comfortable, a small hiss falls from his lips as he jolts. You look up at him with a mixture of confusion and concern, scared that he had been injured somehow.
“The fuck? You had the entire blanket and your toes are still like shards of ice.”
Concern melts into amusement as you slowly bring your foot closer to his calf, taunting him as your eyes lock onto his to meet his harsh glare.
“Don’t you dare. Do that again and I will be doing paperwork for the rest of the night.” Despite his words, his tone is light as he dangles the weak threat over your head, causing you to cling to him even tighter with a light laugh.
“I promise I won’t do it again, tonight at least.”
You get a reluctant sigh in response as Levi idly draws circles onto the flesh of your shoulder, slowly beckoning sleep closer once more. You blink, trying to fight off the sensation and willing your body to disobey its desire to fall asleep once more. You want to spend as much time in his arms as possible, sleeping through the domestic moment doesn’t count when it deprives you of seeing the rare soft smile on his face.
It seems that he agrees as his low voice breaks you from your thoughts.
“What are you doing awake anyway? It’s late and Erwin expects to see us at a stupidly early time tomorrow, you should be getting as much rest as you can.”
You let out a small snort, of course he would have a gentle lecture about sleeping habits ready.
“Pot, meet kettle?” You bite your lip to prevent yourself from giggling in his face when he moves to give your forehead a small yet strong poke. He soothes the area with a gentle kiss, his lips featherlight as they press against your forehead.
“Okay, okay…I woke up to wait for you to return.” You bury your face in the crook of his neck, missing the way his features soften at your bashful confession, your tongue betraying your mind with the reluctant reveal. You have always been the more verbally affectionate one in the relationship, yet you still have your moments where words and vulnerability are a challenge. 
His hand cradles the back of your head, pulling it closer while his fingers tangle in your hair. His voice is now a sleepy whisper as his body and mind finally begin to relax. 
“Well, I’m here now. So you can finally get some proper rest.”
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cutielando · 15 hours
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mr. and mrs. ~ oscar piastri
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Summary: Wedding of the year is finally here between the two favorite youngsters on the grid. Everyone is invited!
Words: 1.3k+
Other works: my masterlist
♡♡♡♡♡
Oscar and Y/N.
Y/N and Oscar.
Everyone knew them, everyone loved them.
Ever since the young Australian lad had entered the Formula 1 world, Y/N had entered it with him. Always by his side, always attending his races while also attending university.
They had been together for many years, practically having invented the term “highschool sweethearts”. Despite Oscar’s busy schedule and Y/N being at university, they always made it work, never letting the distance affect their relationship.
Moving together to the UK had represented the first sign that they were both in it for the long ride. Packing up their entire lives and moving across the globe to follow their dreams proved that their relationship and the love they had was real.
Real and pure.
When Oscar got the opportunity to drive in Formula 1 and Y/N started her studies, the time they spent together shortened by a significant amount, but they managed to make it work.
They talked on the phone every day, texting when neither of them could speak on the phone, they took every opportunity to visit each other when they had free time, with Y/N visiting Oscar at his races or Oscar coming home when he would have 2 weeks off between races.
They made it work.
But Oscar wasn’t satisfied. He needed something more. He needed something that would put his mind at ease when he would be away.
He needed to officially make you his.
Towards the end of the season, you had a few weeks off uni and decided to join your boyfriend in Qatar for the Grand Prix.
You hadn’t really chosen the best race to attend, the heat and the humidity making it really strenuous on your already tired body. But seeing the smile that Oscar had while doing the grid walk with you by his side made it worth it.
Being there for Oscar’s sprint win had been the highlight of your entire year. Seeing him cross the checkered flag first, seeing his name on that first position on every monitor around the paddock, the feeling was unlike anything you had ever felt before.
Up until the moment Oscar got out of the car.
He made his way over to where you were waiting for him after he celebrated a little with the team, taking off his helmet and balaclava and giving them to one of his assistants.
“How about that?” he asked, chuckling as he pulled you into his arms, careful not to squeeze you too tightly because he was sweaty.
“I’m so fucking proud of you, Os. I can’t believe I was here for your first win” you said, your voice muffled because you had your face buried in the crook of his neck.
“It’s technically not considered a win bec-”
“Shut up and enjoy the moment” you interrupted, making him chuckle and continue hugging you.
As he let go of you, you didn’t notice him reaching for something behind his back, not even his assistant subtly handing him something as he appeared again from the garage. All you could focus on was him, and nothing else around you.
It only really hit you when Oscar lowered himself down on one knee in front of you, a red velvet box in his hand.
“Oh my God” you said, your eyes widening and your hands flying up to your mouth.
All around you, the McLaren team gathered in a circle, phones ready and cameras rolling to catch the sweet moment on camera.
“Y/N, I don’t even know whether words will suffice to say what I want to say right now. You’ve been by my side since we were kids, you moved to the UK with me and left your entire family in Australia just for me, and I can’t even begin to explain how much that meant to me. I can’t imagine my life without you in it, I frankly don’t think I could survive on my own if you weren’t here. I want to grow old with you, I want to have kids with you and build the life we’ve always talked about having. Y/N, will you marry me?” the words got stuck in your throat, so you settled for nodding feverishly.
The entire team around you cheered, but you could only see Oscar. As he got up and slid the ring on your left hand, you threw yourself into his arms and softly cried, the moment far too emotional to be able to hold back.
Your engagement had become national news in a matter of a couple of hours. Every media channel from the world had written about Oscar’s proposal in Qatar, speculating about when the wedding would be and whatnot.
It didn’t even feel like it had really happened when you stared at the ring on your finger, the feeling foreign but so welcome and like it was meant to be.
You and Oscar had multiple talks about when you would get married, where you would have the wedding and many other problems that came with being away from home and everyone’s families.
Which is why you decided to have the wedding back home in Australia.
After the season was finished and the winter break came, you and Oscar had started planning the wedding, which you settled to have after the last race before the summer break. He had already sent invitations out to the rest of the drivers, all of them very eager to attend the young lad’s wedding.
Lando was especially thrilled, but couldn’t help making jokes about how he had never thought Oscar would be the one getting married so young.
“What did you do to him, Y/N? You charmed him pretty damn well” he’d always joke whenever you guys would hang out in the garage before a race.
Yours and Oscar’s mothers took care of most of the things regarding the venue, the flower arrangements and catering, wanting to take the load off of you while you were halfway across the world.
The only thing that you had to worry about was picking your wedding dress and flying over to Australia to get married.
And when the day had finally come, excitement flowed through your veins.
Nicole and Oscar’s sisters had helped do your hair and make-up, your mother only watching as she sobbed quietly in the background.
“Mom, you’re gonna make me cry too if you don’t stop” you told her as you watched her through your mirror, making the other girls laugh.
“I just can’t believe my baby is getting married” she laughed, wiping her tears and walking up to stand behind you.
You smiled and took her hand, mostly to calm your nerves as well.
You were really getting married. And to the love of your life, which was a plus.
After you were prepped and ready to go, your father came to fetch you to walk you down the aisle. Your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest as you held his arm tightly and clutched the flower bouquet tightly in your other hand.
But your nerves disappeared like they had never even been there when the doors opened and you locked eyes with Oscar waiting for you at the end of the aisle, Logan beaming behind him as his best man.
The ceremony went by in a blur, the only focus on your part being on Oscar. You only vaguely remembered saying your vows and saying “I do”, your memory only having imprinted the first kiss you two shared as husband and wife.
You were positive that nothing could ever top this moment, getting married with all of your friends and families present, stepping into your new life with Oscar by your side.
Nothing could ever be better.
Nothing could top you becoming Mrs. Piastri.
Being Mr. and Mrs. Piastri.
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vesppperoro · 2 days
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hii uhh, i had a little idea that id like to share if thats ok, it might be quite triggering tho so be warned ‼️
a sinner demon reader thats based on a teddy bear, because theyre too soft and mushy personality-wise, and they ended up in hell due to being suicidal. like their whole body is covered in stitches thats supposed to be a metaphor for sh scars
do whatever u want with that info, u can even ignore it if u like, have a nice day ❤️
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Hazbin Hotel Cast with a Teddy Bear!Sinner Reader
Includes: Charlie, Vaggie, Angel Dust, Husk, Niffty, Sir. Pentious, Cherri Bomb, Alastor.
A/N: this is such an interesting idea! I’m going based on my own experiences as someone like this, along with research. I appreciate you for trusting me with this <3 I definitely WILL make a p2!! Might write for this sinner more tbh I loved writing them!! I thought you meant a child and I wrote that I’m so sorry 😭
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Charlie Morningstar
She truly didn’t understand why you were in hell.
You are such a sweetheart! She adores you.
When you showed up to the hotel one day, without clothes and covered in stitches, she was immediately worried.
She took you in and washed you up as best as she could.
You were like a child! Why were you even here?
She was happy that you wanted to be redeemed, however.
She became a mother figure to you.
You go to her when you’re sad and you hug her frequently.
She traces your scars sometimes and you two share a silent moment together.
A silent moment of understanding.
She loves picking you up and holding you!
She hugs you like you’re an actual teddy bear.
She’s the one you go to for emotional things.
She’s good at comforting you. She somehow knows what you wanna hear at all times.
Vaggie
She became a secondary mother figure to you.
She was Charlie’s girlfriend, so of course she was.
She understood your situation and was pissed heaven casted a sweetie like you because of your lowest point.
She’s the more levelheaded one.
She’s the one who gives you advice and stuff like that. While Charlie is the more emotionally supportive one, Vaggie is the more mature and steady one.
She also traces your scars. Even if you don’t like them, she tells you you’re beautiful no matter what.
When you told her more of your story, she almost cried.
A child feeling this way broke her to pieces. Especially since you were so soft.
Other than the sad stuff, she loves cuddling you.
You, her, and Charlie sometimes have cuddle sessions with you in the middle because you’re so warm + soft + squishy.
She would kill anyone for you. You’re just so adorable!
She tries to teach you to fight but gives up when you don’t want to hurt anyone.
Angel Dust
Honestly, he saw himself in you.
A lost, scared, and lonely child. You didn’t know the cruelties of the world, aside from those cruelties in your mind.
He tries his best to comfort you. He’s not the best with words, but he’s always there for you.
He calls you sugar bear! He loves you to death.
He would go to the ends of hell for you.
He treats you like he wished to be when he was the same way.
You two share a lot of similarities, so you bond well.
He nearly cried when you told him your stitches were scars from sh.
He embraces you any time he can.
He tries to be the parental figure he needed so you can have a better life, somewhere no one would judge you.
Husk
He’s stubborn, like a dad. He acts like one too.
A hardheaded, yet sweet dad.
He’s like the father you never had. Or did have. Whichever.
He’s the bartender, so he knew how to comfort.
But when you told him your story, he almost broke.
You two definitely sing some sort of song together. Maybe Angel or Vaggie joins.
He cuddles you and hides you with his wings.
If you give him baby doe eyes, he might just take you on a flight.
Husk is SUPER protective over you. He’s very similar to Vaggie in a way when it comes to protection.
He gives you good advice but he still hides behind his tough guy exterior.
He doesn’t understand why you’re down here, even if you tell him. You’re so sweet!
Either way, he adores you.
He loves patting your head and messing with your fuzzy ears.
Might even boop your nose once or twice.
Late night talks.
He probably talked you down from trying to commit again.
Niffty
Another tiny person! Yay!
You’re not a bad boy. She may be a psycho, but she would never call you bad.
Actually, she did once and felt bad once you cried.
She likes to hang out with you since you’re both tiny!
She cuddles and hugs you like you’re her stuffed animal.
Bug killers! Even if you don’t wanna kill bugs, she’s dragging you along anyways.
She tries to hide her needle from you since Husk told her what your stitches meant.
Alastor has to babysit both of you basically.
You and her do almost everything together! You’re best friends!
She sneaks into the kitchen and grabs you both snacks so you can watch a movie.
She makes you sleep in her bed sometimes so she can cuddle you.
Sir. Pentious
He’s a dad. Or, he was.
He treats you like he wishes he treated his son before he passed.
He acts like your father. An awkward father, but he still tries.
He also protects you.
Expect him to curl his tail around you and cuddle you when you’re sad.
He literally cried when you told him your story.
He tells you anytime he can that it’s not your fault. Your stitches are still beautiful.
Best girl dad ever.
Buys you anything he wants, even if he’s broke. (Except sharp things)
He teaches you some things about inventing!
You made him a little metal flower and he was so overjoyed. He took it with him everywhere.
He still remembers you, even if he’s in Heaven now.
Cherri Bomb
Chaotic auntie energy.
She would do ANYTHING for you.
She picks you up and places you on her hip like a baby.
She loves your ears! She also adores how sweet you are.
She wouldn’t admit it, but you’re the cutest thing she’s ever seen.
Even if you tell her your story, she wouldn’t see you differently. You’re a child, a child who went through so much.
Hangouts with her and Angel are a MUST.
They try to avoid doing the normal around you and focus on fun time.
She took you with her when she had a territorial fight one time and you almost cried.
She felt so bad that she bought you anything you wanted for a week.
She did anything you wanted to do, even if Husk or someone else said no to you.
Basically, if you wanted something, you went to her.
Alastor
He’s not one to like kids, really.
He was, however, kinder to you.
He did anything to protect you.
He was like your insane uncle.
He was the one who taught you how to use your abilities. Maybe to help you, or to manipulate you when you grow.
He made you jambalaya once and it became your favorite dish to share with him!
He introduced you to radio and he was happy that you loved it.
He started bringing you to his studio whenever he did a radio show.
He took you to an overlord meeting once. That’s how you met Rosie.
He pats your head like a dog lol.
Don’t expect him to be emotionally available. But he will be there to have fun sometimes.
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luminiamore · 21 hours
Text
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plug connie springer x black stripper reader
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warnings: boy is down bad, a little bit of mikasa x reader??, mikasa is famous heree, connie is a tease, he’s also hispanic asf, ya’ll didn’t even make it to the club, hints of yandere, mirror action, he fucks u while he’s crossfaded, wall sex, he talks a lot, dude is rambling, good ole cream pie, gotta love breeding
a/n: i got carried away (⌒_⌒;)
can you guys tell i like my men desperate lol, this is so long i might make this a series (4.9k words)
one down, like five more to goooo
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The lifestyle of stripping was something you truly couldn’t get enough of. The late nights. The smooth poles. Dancing on those smooth poles. And most importantly, the money. Oh fuck, how you loved the money. Living the fast life gave you such a rush that you adored it just as much as you hated it.
It’s not your first choice, not by a long shot. You were raised in Jamaica, New York. And your parents., you loved them. Honestly, you did, but you would probably be the most miserable person in the world if you kept heeding their strict Christian views.
You tried everything to reach up to their impossibly high standards. They wanted you to get an A in every assignment? Try A+. They wanted you to wear less revealing clothes because ‘No man will ever want you’? You’re showing up to your classes in turtlenecks just to keep their mouths shut.
You even made it a routine to clean the entire house top to bottom on Sundays since they started complaining that ‘You never do anything around this house.’ It was beyond annoying. You were fucking tired.
Growing up in Notre Dame School of Manhattan was nothing short of horrible. Proclaimed ‘good girls’ snorting more than half a line of coke in the school bathrooms. Drugs you aren’t even sure how they got access to, but then again, they are rich white kids. Teachers and hypocritical professors pretend to be oblivious to the bullshit drama their students are in. Your parents’ oblivion for keeping you here is even greater. Even after sharing stories with them, they would advise you to be more like the students at your school.
It was a miracle you didn’t turn out that far gone, despite what your profession is currently. You’ve smoked a little weed here and there. Experience some sort of awakening tripping off shrooms the weekend your parents took a trip to Barbados.
Without you, of course. Despite this, you were always taken care of. Your differences in opinion would never justify their abandonment of you. You knew they loved you when they got you a ticket to see The Weeknd live after you got a perfect score on your final, not after telling you their opinions on the matter, of course.
‘I don’t know why you listen to such devil music.’
‘I should’ve never gotten you this trash.’
The guilt you felt for wanting to have fun kept you from almost going. You went anyway, choosing to avoid allowing their misery to affect you.
Everything was fine; you played along with this draining game, and everything was fine. Until they decided to kick you out for finding a small baggie of blow (that wasn’t even yours) peeking out from the top of your purse. You don’t even know how it got there.
Honestly, you didn’t. You tried to communicate that while they were packing all the clothes they could find in your closet into two medium-sized luggage bags. But they wouldn’t listen, opting for screaming so loud you could see the neighbors peeking through the window. At the very least, they were kind enough not to throw them onto the concrete ground. Their stubbornness was unyielding. You just couldn’t get through to them.
You were able to rent an apartment you had put a deposit on a month before this happened because of the money in your savings account. Unfortunately, your funds were only sufficient for rent for two months due to groceries and other necessities.
When graduation came, your parents were nowhere to be found, so you realized that you had to find a means of earning money before you ended up sleeping on the streets.
You tried looking for a ’regular’ job -- a barista, a waitress, even applied to be a fucking bartender. It’s not as easy as it seems when those who already have one talk about finding a job. Why do they claim that they need to hire immediately and yet still reject you? Considering that your lack of work experience prevents you from being hired, you feign a little on your resume. Turns out, you’re not a very good liar.
Where was pretty privilege when you needed it?!
Despite applying to 500 companies, none could offer you a job within the next two weeks, which happened to be when your rent was due.
You really had no other option. You took your pretty ass and marched to the nearest club. Which happened to be the... Hustlers club? Why did that sound familiar? 
Upon entering, you outright demanded to speak with the person in charge, and when you saw him, he demanded that he offer you a job. Lucky for you, the owner happened to be there that day. He observed the little moment you had when you stormed in..well, he observed the way your tits bounced in your low-cut tee and immediately pulled you into his office.
He had the thought that you would make him a lot of money if you worked for him, and he’s sure his business partner would agree if she saw you. He just had to make sure.
A figure appeared in the corner, striking up from the edge of his desk and making a slight sniffling noise. A girl, a beautiful one with distinct Asian features. Her leather skirt was short, only barely covering past 2 inches of her thigh. Her tits were pushed up to a necklace in a black corset-like top. An ornamental gold necklace.. with the letter M.
Wait. Is that-
That’s where it dawned on you why the name of this club sounded so familiar. On a random Tuesday afternoon, you find yourself standing in front of a celebrity. You were standing in front of Mikasa Ackerman. The Mikasa Ackerman. As in, owner of Mirror Palais, the highest-paid model in Japan, co-owner of one of the best clubs in New York, Mikasa Ackerman. Oh shit.
You remember seeing her on an Instagram reel in front of this very club, along with the other owner. The other owner, his name was.. what was it again? He swivels you around to face him, almost as if he hears your thoughts,
“Eren Yeager, sweetheart.”
A soft handshake accompanied by a gentle tone. He was quick to introduce you to the beautiful eyes that stayed fixed on your face since you walked into the dimly lit room. Eren guides you towards the brown leather couch where his friend is sitting,
“And, this is the lovely Mikasa. I’m sure you sure you know who she is.”
Feeling intimidated by her intense gaze, you nodded quickly and stumbled a bit when introducing yourself. Her following words didn’t calm your nerves anyhow,
“A real pleasure meeting you, beautiful.”
Eren could tell that Mikasa already liked you; the girl was practically fucking you with her eyes. But he wasn’t here for that; he cleared his throat to draw attention to him in the room. He had a goal in mind: to get you signed up. Eren wanted you dancing in his club today.
He sits you down and swiftly gets into business mode.
‘What kind of position are you looking for?’
‘What’s the minimum salary you want to earn here?’
He tries to get a sense of what you’re looking for before proposing to work as a stripper. Although he wants you to, he can compromise. Server position and the minimum salary you asked for was $65,000.
“And I’m not leaving til I get that or something better.”
Well, you wanted better, right? Eren explains to you that his club didn’t have any more waitress positions and Mikasa...
Well, that day, you found out that she was really good with words. She did a great job at convincing you that you’d make double the amount you asked for moving your perfect body on the pole. I mean...
“Look at that body of yours. You’d be pretty famous here, sweetheart.”
And shit, she was right. You really couldn’t blame the girls who never wanted to leave, simply too addicted to the drugs, to the fast life, especially to the money. The amount of money you made every night was simply insurmountable. And you found it funny because it wasn’t just the money. Really, it wasn’t.
The sensation that occurs when your lower body rotates on the pole. The art of dancing like this ignited such a passion from you. The attention, from the men and the women. One of the most popular clubs in the city had you as a crowd favorite. You knew it shouldn’t be something you liked; you never wanted to get too wrapped up in a life like this. But shit, it was sensational.
You didn’t let it slip, even though you shined on the stage. There are people who would take advantage of you even more if they knew you actually enjoyed what you do; you know this. When it was time to go, you left with no hesitation. You had to remind yourself of what you were here for, to provide and care for yourself until you find a better job.
And you stuck to that goal for a solid five months; nothing deterred you. Of course, that’s what you’re thinking. In reality, from the very first moment Eren had you on that pole, you found yourself coming back for one reason. Even if you weren’t subconsciously aware of it, him.
Connie, you heard the owner greet one day. He was definitely attractive. There was something about him, something about how he threw money at you and only you. Your body shivered without fail due to the gray eyes that watched your every move. The way he man spreads and tilts his head back when taking a hit, revealing neck tattoos that you know cover his stomach under that black Nike Tech hoodie. He was so fucking fine.
Only a few men can pull off a buzz cut. How does he do it so effortlessly? Maybe it was the color? How would he change it like it was nothing every two weeks?
You noticed he had a thin mustache, and when you got closer to his face.. Fuck. Was that a diamond nose ring?
He was a drug dealer. You caught that three months ago. Around that point, he began asking for you to exclusively serve his section. Eren had no problem with that; after all, this was his friend. But Connie started getting.. greedy. He wanted more than that. He started getting bold. He wanted your body on that twirling solely for him.
“Hell no.”
Eren filled the quiet section. Your body was followed by both green and gray eyes as you moved on the stage, with Connie’s eyes being more intense and focused compared to the other. The thriving club was filled with both of them enjoying a glass of Richard Hennessy Cognac in the VIP area.
Connie never had a good relationship with mixing Henny and weed. He was aware of that. He has a tendency to indulge in sinful thoughts. He didn’t let that stop him from rolling the blunt anyway.
His mind would get drawn towards dangerous places, mainly when he saw you. The way your thong disappeared between your cheeks under your lacey two-piece made him ready to fuck you right there. To show those perverted and prickly eyes that stuck like glue onto you that they could never have you. That you were his. Or, you will be.
Connie hasn’t even fucked you yet. Hasn’t gone anywhere near the sticky wetness he knows you have in between your legs.
You two indulge in what you could only describe as subtle grinding in the back rooms. All the dancing that you’re supposed to be doing on the pole, you’re doing on his lap instead. It was against the rules; you especially knew this. That didn’t stop either of you. Well, more so Connie than you.
At first, his best friend was against it. The customers you brought in were earning him at least $100k a night. While his other show girls were beautiful, you radiated a different type of aura onto the stage. You were something different. It was genuinely insane how you could move, you didn’t even have prior training. You found that every night, you got better than the previous; it was a natural talent.
Connie, being Connie, offered Eren twice that amount for every night he gets to spend with you alone. That was every night you were on the clock, besides, he had no problem making that back by the next day. When it came to his girl, there was never a problem for him.
And Connie never regretted the amount he spent on you. Being alone with you was something he had grown to crave incessantly. To him? It was worth it. He’d get so excited to just walk into the back room and find you waiting for him. All pretty, just tempting him to ruin you. Then, when you start performing in front of him, your body moves in a way that would hypnotize the stoic man.
And it wasn’t just your body to Connie. There was a certain allure to you. He was observant of the way you moved, spoke, and behaved. He understood that someone like you doesn’t come by every day. He just had to have you, own you. Your body, your fucking soul, everything you possessed, he wanted it for himself. He didn’t care if it sounded selfish; he’s okay with being that when it comes to you.
It’s reasonable to assume that he would have the final say on what you wear for him since he was the only person you would dance for, right? That was the route he took to get your number. That’s the reason you got a text from him while you were getting ready to shower for your night shift.
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One of his friends- Was he talking about Mikasa?
You could have given it more thought, but your shift was only an hour away, and Connie was on his way. Using a small gray towel, you drape it onto the fat of your wet boobs. Your hands lather your Shea Butter oil on the top of your left thigh quickly, but you stop when your doorbell rings.
“Coming!”
You yelp, quickly slip on your slippers, and move toward the door. The man had always taken you home, and on the other side of the coin, he always took you to work. You didn’t bother asking how he knew your address the first time, afraid that it would spark an answer you’re not ready to hear. Occasionally, if you were too intoxicated to carry yourself to your apartment, he would act as your knight in shining armor and hold you in bridal fashion to your door without saying a word.
It should have been simple enough: he goes in and gets out. And it would have been that simple if he hadn’t seen your pink lacy thong loosely hanging off your door knob. He was simply a man, one who desired to feel every part of you. The tip of that thong was hanging out of his pockets when Connie left your apartment that night.
Swinging your door open makes you almost breathless. Connie was a tall person. Everything about him just screamed: big. He was easily over 6 feet 2 inches tall, and he came to your door carrying a medium-sized shopping bag. You step back, observing as he comes in right after taking his slides off by your door.
“You’re here early, Con. I’m not ready yet.” You whisper, still a little perplexed he’s already here. Despite the amount of money you know he has, you rarely ever see him in anything other than a white tee and black sweats. Today was no different. Minor differences in each pair made it clear that they were different every time. You suppose it had something to do with his dangerous line of work.
He hands you the cream-colored bag, and his eyes never leave your lips all the while. You suddenly became very conscious that you were breathing the same air as Connie, who appeared right in front of you. He leans in, the ghost of his lips felt against your collarbone,
“You smell good,” His tatted hands sneakily climbed their way onto your wide hips. Before muttering a curse under his breath, he squeezes once. For the first time since meeting you, Connie isn’t being truthful. He didn’t come to your apartment to take you to your job. Tonight, he had different intentions.
He came tonight to put a full stop to the cat-and-mouse game that you guys have been playing for the past five months. Two fully packed blunts and three shots of Don Julio convinced him that his attraction towards you was not going away.
He should’ve realized it when he started making a habit of watching over you outside of the strip club. She needs someone to protect her, he thinks. You don’t pay attention to your surroundings. You have no idea, don’t you? Your beauty could easily lead to someone from the club becoming obsessed and following you. Anyone who wasn’t him.
He also should’ve realized it when he started beating his dick into overstimulation to your pictures on Instagram. And after your shift. Of course, before your shift. Eren witnessed him having to excuse himself during your shift because his dick was painfully throbbing against his boxers.
Connie really liked you. And somewhere in that twisted mind of his, he believed that you two were truly meant for each other. He should’ve never waited this long, “Put this on, ma.”
He pushes the bag towards your chest and moves your hips in the direction of your room. Your thighs twitch as you hum and make a little run to the end of your hall. He follows after you slowly, eyes shifting to the way your ass peaks out from under the towel.
This scene feels oddly familiar. A predator stalking its prey, just waiting for the right moment to pounce. You didn’t know what Connie came here to do; in your mind, you were just getting ready for work. He almost felt sorry for you, almost felt sorry for how he was going to ruin you, almost.
He made sure to take his time approaching your door so that you could be ready and prepared for him when he arrived. And you didn’t disappoint. In front of your vanity makeup mirror, you were sat on the cushion chair. Applying what looked like oil from a flower bottle onto your neck.
You look better in the dress than he expected. Your fat tits sitting so perfectly, and the lace meshing with your skin. You pretended to ignore him behind your seat, starting to feel the weight of his presence around you. This was probably the thinnest item you had ever owned, yet his hands pressing on your shoulders made your skin feel like it was on hot volcanic soil.
You catch his eye in the mirror, and despite your flustered state, he doesn’t grant you the satisfaction of looking away. Not even while his hands lower down to your rib cage, right under your plush boobs. Especially not even while his giant palms wrap around the fabric covering your nipple in a tight grip.
You gasp, a moan bottling in your throat, “C-Con!”
It could have been the way you uttered his name or the way your head pressed against his chest. Regardless, Connie lost control and dropped his head into the crook of your neck, beginning to sprinkle small, wet kisses. He grips harder, and you... you get louder.
“You drive me fucking insane,” Your flesh is now exposed to his hands as they slip into the dress. “Skin so soft,” He kneads his hands into your chest, squeezing as if he’s hoping milk will pour out of them. He groans, “God, you’re so perfect mama.” The thought of that makes a shiver run down his body.
Poor Mikasa, she spent all night working on that dress once she heard it was for you. Connie didn’t even let it last for a good ten minutes before you heard a faint rip sound in the midst of your whimpers.
Your brain is struggling to keep up with the speed of everything happening. You attempt to tilt your head back, but he shuts it down right away. “Eyes on the mirror.” He moves one hand to your throat, keeping you still. You feel your body shake under his hold, twitching slightly from his small attack. You didn’t have the courage to look away, not even as far as you could.
“I’ve been so patient.” Squeezing your left nipple, he drops his fingers down the ripped material until they reach the top of your pussy lips. “Cumming to the thought of your pretty face like a fucking teenager,” His words bring a mewl to your lips. Your body starts sweating, nervous at the way his fingers are just rubbing circles around your skin.
Would he pull away if your hips jerked against his hand? You hoped against all odds that he wouldn’t. You’ve never allowed yourself to feel this desperate for anyone, but being around Connie left you like this. You were at a loss for what to do. Your thoughts were racing to find something, anything, that would bring him closer to you.
It’s unclear what motivated him to answer your prayers. But in the next moment, he pushed his middle finger into the center of where your slick was overflowing onto the cushion. He creates slight tap sounds with the puddle between your fat lips, playing with you.
Your eyes close for just a second and burst wide open when you feel a sudden intrusion in your sticky hole. “A-Ah!” A sob leaves your lips, your eyes falling back to your face in the mirror when you register his next words,
“Eyes on the mirror, mama. I haven’t done anything to you yet,” As Connie slowly moves his fingers into and out of your dripping core, his eyes struggle to keep track of your face in the mirror or the stain you’re beginning to make on his digits.
He settles with the stain you’re creating. He’s massaging your walls in a way that you can’t help but cover them in a creamy white. It’s impossible not to moan with shaky breaths, whispering his name. He figures the wait was worth it. His dreams couldn’t have prepared him for the real thing. It was more noisy, was more sticky, and it was.. real.
What do you taste like?
Your hips shake as he suddenly removes his fingers from you. You whimper, annoyed by the absence of the touch of fingers on your wet walls, but you stop yourself when you see his movements in the mirror. His mouth wraps around his middle and ring finger, sucking your juices to the fullest. Your breathing stops when he moans, “You taste so fucking good.”
Connie silently pulls you up from your seat and presses you against the nearest wall, causing the ripped dress to fall to the floor. Instantly, your back arched into the prominent bulge that was pressing on your bare ass. Your thoughts wander back to your last session with Connie in the backroom. All that desperate grinding.
“You were squeezing so tight around my fingers,” He pushes his sweat down to remove his throbbing hard dick with a little effort. “Y’gonna squeeze my dick like that next?”
Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!
You jump every time the base of his cock slaps down on your ass. Both of his hands grip your sides, his eyes rolling back as he slides his dick back and forth in between your leaking pussy lips.
“Oh f-fuck! Connie,”
Your voice cracks when you call out for him, and he smiles. He cannot deny that this is the perfect thing; it was always meant to be like this. He spreads your cheeks as wide as he can, lining his tip up to your hole that’s clenching around nothing.
“Yeah, b-baby?” Fuck, you were so wet. “Want me to fuck you? Want- Oh fuck. Want Connie to make you scream?”
Your lips tremble, and you try to slide his dick inside you by pushing your hips back. He lets you, too weak himself, to stop you from taking what you wanted. All you can think right now is Connie, Connie, fucking Connie.
“Shittt. Want y-y’to to make me cum! P-please!”
Pushing him even further inside without his help proves to him that you truly want him to make you scream. You’re barely making it halfway with his thick and long build. Connie is incredibly proud of you right now, taking his dick like a desperate bitch and moaning to fuck the rest of his inches in.
He pulls a little of himself out of you, only to flush his hips abruptly against yours with one single push. Groaning at the same time you gasp out, he whispers in your ear, “Scream for daddy, mama.”
You were so full. His cock tip was touching places that you’ve never been to on your own before, causing your mind to go haywire. His pressure against your cervix was so intense it would have been painful if you weren’t so wet. You oblige almost embarrassingly quickly the moment you feel his dick drag at a steady pace inside of you.
Connie regrets not having done this sooner, as the drugs he took earlier are still mixing in his system, alternating and speeding up his thoughts. His body was ablaze. You’re covering the entire length of his dick with your juices, causing him to become frantic and desperate to get more out of you. His thrusts match his crave. You were warm, and your cries were heaven to his ears, “Big! Y’re so b-big, daddy!”
You’re not complaining, far from it, as he tears your pussy to shreds. In fact, you’re taking him so well, and he praises you for it. Like he said, you were made for this moment, for him. You’re such a,
“Good girl. Fuck! My g-good girl takes me so well,”
He can hear your slick drip on the floor below you despite the smacking sound in your room. You’re so needy for him, as he is for you. The walls echoed with your wailing sounds as you fucked him back, making Connie shudder.
He’s gonna cum. He can feel his balls churning as they slap repeatedly against your twitching clit. Fuck. He’s gonna cum so deep inside you he prays it reaches your womb. Although it’s his first time exploring the depths of your perfect cunt, he recognizes that you’re also going to cum.
He can tell by the way your legs are shaking rapidly, by the way, your moans get higher in pitch, by the way, you’re whispering his name out like a prayer. And he’s determined to make you cum before him. Do you squirt? Do you cream? He thinks he’ll die and go to heaven if it’s both. Your next plea erupts another groan to tumble out his mouth,
“M’gonna- M’gonna cum! O-oh fuck- M’gonna cum so h-hard.”
Holding your arms behind your back with his tatted hand, he moves his hips inside you at a faster pace than ever before. “Shit. Me t-too, mama.” He angles his waist to keep pressing into that spongy spot that makes you tremble. “Just like that. Cum, baby. C-cum all over this fat dick.”
Small tears start to fall down your brown cheeks, and your back arches sharply on Connie, causing your stomach to clench at once. The man above you receives both your cream and squirt splashing from your sweet core, and you weep. Your muffled moans fill the air as he cranes your neck towards him for a nasty, drooling kiss.
As he gets closer to his orgasm, his rapid thrusts become sloppy and crazed, and his heart beats twice as fast as he sees the beauty fucked out underneath him. The more Connie moved inside of you, the more he swayed. Your essence was covering his lower half so much that he couldn’t wait another minute before dumping his kids against your cervix, a shaky moan accompanying his release.
His thrusts slow down, causing tiny drops to spill onto the floor, but his lips never leave yours, and he has to remind himself to let you breathe when you start to whine against his mouth. He lets you go and instead presses tiny kisses against your panting mouth.
Both of you, Connie in particular, were on cloud nine. Your clenching onto him brings Connie’s mind back to Earth, but he is not satisfied. He wanted to go again. He needed it, so it was only natural he started moving at a steadfast pace inside you again.
“Again. Let’s go a-again, mama. Shitt. Your pussy is so-”
Before that night, you’ve never experienced pleasure on this level. Connie took you, on every corner of the house. Both of you left unaware of Eren’s multiple missed calls as he fucked his cum into you like a dog in heat. It’s safe to say that you didn’t show up for work that night or the night after. Connie made sure you never danced at a strip club again.
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@hatake05 @thickbihhwitdagapp 🫶🏾
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Ferrari's Fairytale (1/3)
Summary: World Championships are the most important part of any Formula One team's history. Except perhaps, Ferrari's. Known for their rabid fans, filthy-rich investors, and pretty boy drivers it shouldn't be a surprise that the team has brought together Soulmates from across the globe. And fate, it seems, is working awfully hard to put all the pieces into place for Ferrari's perfect fairytale - one that's been in the works for decades now.
[Part 1 of Pretty Girls and Ferrari Boys]
Soulmate AU: Soulmates share injuries and pain.
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader (Eventual)
Word Count: 1650
Warnings: Swearing, no Charles in this first part sorry it's his epic love story and those take time ;)
Masterlist
There was something wrong with your soulmate.
Really there had been something wrong with them since you were eight years old. But right now, there was something particularly wrong with them.
“Just some bruising over the ribcage, but no actual damage internally.” The medic presses a latex covered hand gently against your ribs.
“They feel broken.” You suck in a pained breath and glare over her shoulder, at the little framed picture of her cat, Terror, on her desk. “You’re sure I’m not about to sneeze and puncture a lung?”
“Funny.” Though the look she gives you as she pulls off her gloves is less than amused. “Which one of us went to medical school again?”
“My best friend. You might know her. She’s stunning, generous, gives me free check-ups, did I say stunning? Goes by Sunny.”
“It’s Doctor Sunny to you.” She slingshots one of the gloves at you. “But it’s good to know you only keep me around for the free check-ups.”
“My soulmate would bankrupt me without you.”
Sunny taps at her computer, “The fee isn’t that high.”
“Sure,” You shrug. “If you aren’t in here every other week.”
“Have we ruled out hitman as their profession?”
“Since we were eight?”
“I don’t know much about hitmen, maybe they start them young.”
You lower yourself carefully from the observation table and move stiffly toward her desk. “Give it to me straight Doc. How much longer have I got?”
“I’m afraid you’ll live, ma’am.” Sunny doesn’t even look up. “A tragedy for all, I know. I can give you a moment if you need time to process– Ow! Bitch.”
She rubs at her shoulder and huffs.
“I’m going to have to log that in the database, you know.” She says.
“Good, maybe we can both find our soulmates and be done with it all.”
“Real romantic, dude.”
“Your soulmate hasn’t been terrorising you since you were a kid.”
“I had my fair share of scraped knees,” Sunny wrinkles her nose when you stick your tongue out. “You do know it won’t stop after the two of you meet, right? That’s a schoolyard myth.”
“After the talking to I’m going to give him, you bet your perky ass it’s going to stop.”
“That’s the second instance of workplace harassment I’ve coped from you in the last minute.”
“Fine. Your ass is not perky.”
“Mature.” She hums, “What time did you say the pain started?”
“Ten-thirty-ish?”
“All good then.” Sunny makes a few more clicks before powering down her computer. “Your chest and my arm, all nice and logged.”
“You know, sometimes I think you became a Match Medic specifically so you could put every little thing into the database to make it easier to find your soulmate.”
“Perks of the job.” She scoops up her handbag. “Come on, let’s bounce before the front desk starts scheduling over my lunch break.”
“You remember how I said you were stunning and generous and stunning?”
“I’m not buying you lunch.”
“Could this week get any worse?” You throw your head back dramatically.
Sunny cracks a smile at your antics, “Only a few more hours and we’re free for the weekend.”
“Are we still on for pamper-night tonight?”
“Always. Mine or yours?”
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You end up spending the night in Sunny’s apartment, covered in different rejuvenating oils and masks until you look like low-budget horror movie villains. In your fluffy robes with The Princess Bride on in the background Sunny tries to teach you how to make Hainanese Chicken the way her mother did. Terror cries at your feet when you tell him he can’t have raw chicken. Sunny pops a bottle of cheap champagne that makes you both grimace and promise one another that you would find an excuse to get a nicer bottle soon. You take turns washing the excess from the face, foot, and hair masks off. Then curl up together on the couch, sipping broth, digging into rice and slathering chicken in Sunny’s family’s super-secret chilli sauce. You both fall asleep at a very respectable eleven o’clock.
So, it’s fucking strange when you wake up feeling like you had spent the night inside a paint mixer.
“Are you okay?” Sunny frowns as she stands over a pan of eggs. “You look ill.”
You squint over your coffee cup, “Soulmate is playing up.”
She plates the eggs next to a small stack of bacon before turning to put a hand to your forehead. “They shouldn’t be making you feel sick, illness doesn’t transfer like that. Are you sure it’s coming from them? Could you just be hung over?”
“It’s definitely him, third weekend in a row, like clockwork.” You take your plate gratefully, “It’s like I always tell you. It’s not nausea. It’s more like…”
“Impossible to explain for you and every medical practitioner you’ve ever seen?”
You groan, “It’s like my brain spent the night trying to escape my skull and the muscles in my neck were in on it.”
“It’s not unheard of for soulmates to feel the repercussions of an intense work out. There was this study from four years ago on high performance athletes and their partners that–”
You groan again, “Oh god and now there’s a nerd in my ear!”  
She tosses a gelatinous bit of egg onto your plate. It lands with a splat that makes you fake gag. “Oh, grow up.”
“You should be nice to me,” You lament, “I’m wounded!”
“Your soulmate is wounded.”
“And I’m sure their best friend is taking very good care of them!”
She pulls a face at you but still takes your plate to the dishwasher for you. As she’s rinsing them, she asks, “What’s on for the rest of your weekend?”
“I got a call from my parents on Thursday and guess what?” You sipped at the cold dregs of your coffee, “The dentist finally figured out which one of them the toothache is coming from!”
“That’s great,” Sunny’s smile was genuine. “They’re going in to get it fixed?”
“Tomorrow morning, both going under local anaesthesia.”
You hip checked her lightly out of the way to rinse both your cups. “You want another coffee?”
Sunny propped herself up on the counter, “My caffeine addiction is rubbing off on you I fear.”
“Listen, we have to get through the day somehow.” You coaxed the machine back to life before leaning against the counter to look at Sunny. “Anyway, my parents were supposed to go to this race tomorrow. Dad is particularly devastated and has practically ordered me to represent the family ‘at our home race.’ It’s been tradition for him and mum since they got married. It’s kind of a big deal for him. The man is obsessive.”
“My parents had something similar to say about our family legacy and studying medicine.”
“Speaking of… You remember all the times I sat up with you studying, or brought you food when you forgot to eat, or ran errands for you, or made sure you took breaks, or–”
“Fine, I get it, I’ll go to the stupid race.”
“Oh, how kind of you to offer.” You passed her one of the cups. “It won’t be that bad. Motorsports are supposed to be fun live, right?”
Sunny snorted, “Thank God. Motorsports? I thought you meant like a horse race or a marathon. I was getting war-flashbacks to track-and-field.”
You put a hand to your heart, “You were willing to relive cross country for me?”
“I was willing to ogle fit, sweaty men for you, definitely.”
“Alright, first of all – fuck you. But also same,” You clinked mugs and nodded solemnly at one another, “Maybe we can find some fit, sweaty drivers to ogle instead.”
Sunny hummed, “What do I wear? Is it like sprint cars or more like V8s – ooh is it an illegal drag race?”
“Girl, no.” You swatted at her thigh, “It’s Formula 1, which is perfectly legal and safe and much faster than any of those options.”
“Alright, Miss Daddy’s-Girl, go off.”
“Shut up, I’ve had to hear him go on and on about it my whole life.” You pulled a face at your coffee. “The man has had a hard-on for Ferrari since before he met my mother, and then he met her in the Ferrari hospitality at an F1 race, and he’s fucking worshipped them ever since.”
“Oh my god, why am I only just hearing about this?” She grabbed your face, squishing your cheeks and cooing. “You’re a little Ferrari baby.”
You blew a rather unladylike raspberry at her and knocked her hand away, “Because it’s embarrassing! Dad was only there because he and his friend won tickets. So, when Ferrari marketing caught wind that soulmates had met in their pavilion, they practically fell over themselves.”
“Holy shit!” Sunny practically howled in delight, “Is that where all those baby pictures of you in little Ferrari onesies came from?”
“Ferrari’s own little fairytale, Mr-won-his-way-in and Miss-heir-to-a-real-estate-monopoly. It's like Romeo and Juliet; if Romeo and Juliet survived, had a kid and decided to make it the poster child of their love story.”
“Don’t sound so disgusted, that’s cute as fuck.” Sunny snatches up your empty cup and stacks it next to hers in the dishwasher.
You frown, “Not everything has to be a love story.”
“I don’t know, girl, I’m pretty sure you just asked me to play out your parents first meeting with you tomorrow.” She winks at you over her shoulder as she heads toward her room.
“Oh, fuck off, Sunny.”
“I think this calls for new outfits!” She emerges from her room, towel over one shoulder. “What was your Mum wearing when she met your dad?”
“We are not reenacting my parents meet-cute.”
“Who knows, maybe you’ll have your own meet-cute with a certain pain-prone soulmate, hm?” In the moment it takes you to reorientate yourself after her comment, she’s breezing past you with a bright, “I’m having first shower!”
You squark in indignation. Like hell, you’ll let either of those things happen to you this weekend.
(Part 2 : Ferrari's Prince - 03.04.24)
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f0point5 · 3 days
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would you consider writing the time when max realized that he loved yn?
i remember that he was like in a mindset of idgaf what happens with her im js happy being best friends and having her in my life but i wonder how he got to that point
The way this came out…idk I hope you like it ��� I really wish I’d retconned this whole situation but I stayed true to the fic timeline.
I just…I really hope you don’t hate it 🫠
✨Set after Max wins his 3rd championship in Qatar✨
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Honestly, who (is he) to fight the alchemy?
Max has been in love before. He knows what it feels like. It felt like winning a race. The adrenaline, the elation, the satisfaction, the sliver of relief. He didn’t think there was a better feeling, and if you feel that when you’re with someone, then that must be love.
He never felt like that with you. So he wasn’t in love. He loved you, but he wasn’t in love. Thank God for that, he’d always thought to himself. Max didn’t put effort into games he wouldn’t win and the games you played with men didn’t have a rule book. He was just so lucky, to have you as a friend, and a roommate, and a feline co-parent, and that’s how it would stay.
Except, when the journalist had asked him if you were going to live with him after he retired, he didn’t know what to say. Of course you would, except, how would your boyfriend feel about that? And of course he wanted you to, but he wanted a family, too. But you were family, in some complicated way that he’d never realised before that moment might mean that you wouldn’t always be…with him.
And he didn’t have the desire or the language skills to explain that to a random German journalist. He’d rattled off some answer about how he never knew what the future would bring. It was true, he didn’t think much about the future. But he should have, because when he did it always had you in it.
He wanted a house, and a wife, and kids. It wasn’t like he envisaged doing all that with you. Except, he hadn’t envisaged doing any of it without you, either. It was always you imagined having breakfast with, you he imagined would teach his kids to ski, you he thought about when he thought about buying one of those mansions in the hills above Monaco. Naively, he hadn’t imagined either of you with partners that would mind you and Max living your lives together. It sounded fucking stupid when he thought about it. But, it’s not like he was going to marry you, because he’s not in love with you.
It’s not like I’m in love with her. He’d said that before.
Aren’t you, Max?
Isn’t he?
Is he?
So now here he is, at this totally-not-a-party party, celebrating his this third world championship, wondering if he’s in love. Wondering if that even matters. The music is loud, not enough to drown out his thoughts. He can’t even drink too much because he still has a race tomorrow. He feels lightheaded enough.
He doesn’t know why he’s questioning himself. He has an answer. He knows what being in love feels like, and he doesn’t feel that about you. How he does feel about you, is…not quantifiable. Except he’d really like a name for it right about now. One that’s not going to spin his whole world off its axis. But then, he’s not exactly the axis, is he? Not really.
He should feel like the centre of the universe tonight. He’s lost count of how many times he’s received praise and congratulations, plaudits, and pictures, even gifts. Everyone wants to be in his orbit, everyone wants to talk to him, everyone except you.
You’re leaning against the balcony, bopping along to the music, talking to his dad of all people, your flushed face and lazy grin telltale signs you’ve had too much to drink. Jos is as close as he ever gets to smiling, a telltale sign he’s had too much to drink, and the two of you are, as usual, talking over each other. His eyes linger on your long legs and gentle curves. It would be cutting a corner, to say he’s in love with you, because how can you not be at least a little bit infatuated with the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen? But that’s not love, exactly. Even half drunk, with all this talk of spinning and the party beginning to blur at its edges, the only thing he can see clearly is you. You don’t even notice him looking, because you’re so used to feeling eyes on you.
No, being around you has never felt like winning much of anything. It actually feels a bit like he’s fighting for his life. It feels like…driving, he realises, as the gin starts to hit.
Being around you was like being in the RB19. Like being behind the wheel of something that could kill you, but fits you like a second skin. Like the illusion of having control of a force of nature. It was like living on a knife edge, but building a home there. Comfortable with the uncomfortable, they’d called him, and nothing had ever made him as uncomfortable as you.
If that was being in love, he’d probably been in love with you for as long as his dad said he was.
You don’t notice him looking, but Jos does. He waves Max over, and Max is glad for an excuse. His body gets up before he’s decided to, and he blinks furiously as he walks, trying to focus his thoughts enough to hold a conversation with you when he’s beginning to think he might-
“Maxy,” you say, grinning like it’s the first time you’ve seen him all night.
Fuck. Fuck.
Oh, fuck. The gin’s coming back. For a second he feels like he’s either going to ask you to marry him or vomit all over you.
“I’m leaving. She’s all yours,” Jos says, and Max steadies himself. His dad leans over and gives him one last hug before switching to Dutch. “Get her to bed. And yourself, also. You’ve still got to race tomorrow,”
Max nods and waves him off, closing his arms around you when you wobble, leaning into him for stability. Jos gives you a pat on the shoulder before disappearing into the crowd, and you teeter again, pushing you further into Max. The extra weight is like a balm on what is now a gaping, raw wound, with the nerves exposed. He will never recover from this.
You turn in his arms, scrunching your nose in displeasure as you look up at him. “I hate this hat,” you flick the brim of his World Champion cap. “Worst hat they ever made you. Next year, we do a better one,”
“Okay,” he says, chuckling as the hat leaves his head.
“Can I have this?” You’ve already put it on.
“Sure,”
Take it. Take my Valkyrie. Take the trophy. Take my last name.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
He doesn’t know how he’s looking at you. Is it different than he looked at you two hours ago? Different then when you were 19?
He just shrugs, tipping the hat back for you, since it’s so big. “You’re drunk,” he yells over the music.
You lean in, so close that he’s intoxicated by the scent of your perfume, champagne, and Red Bull. He turns away from you slightly, because he’s had too much to drink to be this close to you.
“I know,” you whisper to him, your lips grazing his cheek as you talk. That’s not helping. He turns back to you, finding your eyes searching his. For the first time, he’s worried what you might see. Because you’ve always seen him too clearly. It was awful, then exhilarating, now it’s just fucking terrifying. Your eyes narrow and Max thinks you’re about to outright accuse him of wanting- “You’re supposed to be drunk, too,”
He laughs. He laughs at your pout, at getting away with it, for a little while longer, at least, and he laughs because on the night he’s won a world championship he realises he lost his heart a long time ago.
Loving you didn’t feel like a winning a race, it felt like driving in one. And after all, isn’t driving all he ever wanted to do?
“I am, Engel,” he says, “trust me, I am.”
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325 notes · View notes
aerahyasashi · 2 days
Note
yandere satosugu x female reader? can you do jealousy headcanons (like what makes them jealous and/or what they do when they get jealous)? sorry if that wasn’t specific enough!
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╰┈➤𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Yandere! Satosugu x Fem! Reader
╰┈➤𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Yandere behavior (duh) murder, possessiveness, gore. (Ooc maybe) satoru being an oa little shit. Poly relationship.
╰┈➤𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: WHAHAHA i didn’t knew if you wanted it to be separate or not anon, you said satosugu so i immediately assumed that it was a threesome. But heree, some hc’s:33 sorry pookie, i got lazy on suguru’s part:< SJAKEKSKA i did this first cause hc’s are the easiest to write💀💀💀
Masterlist
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🔪Satoru struggles with pervasive jealousy issues, particularly when it comes to you and Suguru.
🔪This dude is like the embodiment of jealousy. he’s so envious he’s practically green with it. Hell he’s even jealous of himself. There was this one time he bet he could pull off dressing up as a girl for a dare, and oh boy, did he go all out. But then he got all pouty when you gushed all over him and got all touchy, something that you don’t really do often. And his reason of getting jealous with himself? He thought that you prefer him as a girl, like hello? you were supposed to prefer the original satoru and not his genderbent!
🔪But seriously, this guy’s jealousy knows no bounds. If Suguru flashes a flirty grin at someone else, bam, jealousy strikes. And if you dare compliment another soul? Jealousy overload. You hugged another man that isn’t suguru? He’s trying to force himself not to throw hands. This dude craves all the attention, all the affection, like a toddler hoarding toys in a playgroup. He’s aware he’s selfish, probably knows it’s not the best look, but he’s powerless against the possessiveness that overtakes him when it comes to you and Suguru. You both have this unique power to bring out the best and worst in him, after all, you two were the only one who sees him as “Satoru” and not as the “Strongest.”
🔪Satoru’s neurotic tendencies and jealousy issues stemmed from his messed-up childhood. The poor guy got stripped of his carefree youth and was thrust into the adult world way before his time after all. the jealousy bug bit him hard when he saw other kids having the time of their lives, while he was stuck with grown-ups fawning over him and expecting way too much and pressuring him. That childhood envy stuck to him like glue, and it grew into a full-blown mess when you, him, and Suguru became an item.
🔪The thing that grinds Satoru’s gears the most and the absolute worst, is when you and Suguru says something about other people’s eyes like; “Their eyes is so pretty” Blah, blah, blah, bullshit like that. It kills him inside that you don’t shower the same love on his eyes. His eyes are prettier, more powerful, and literally very unique, and you hardly ever mention how beautiful it is.
🔪Satoru absolutely loathes it when you’re completely oblivious to someone flirting with you. He’ll shoot menacing glares at the culprit when you’re not paying attention, as if daring them to keep it up, and he would end up threatening them.
🔪Satoru doesn’t bother in hiding his emotions, he’ll whimper, pout, and stick to you and Suguru like glue. And would play the melodramatic card, guilt tripping you. Or he’ll just straight up threaten you or tell suguru about how naughty you are.
🔪🔪🔪
Satoru’s head rested delicately upon your lap as your dexterous fingers ran through his snow white tresses. He gazed at you upward, sky blue eyes peeking from beneath his snowy eyelashes.
“Can you give me your phone for a minute baby? I just wanna do something”
Without pause for consideration, you obliged his request and gave the phone into his outstretched hand.
“Yeah, sure, here.” You responded with a hum.
“What are you gonna do with it, anyways?” You questioned, before your eyes widened as you saw how satoru’s digits hastened across the interface, focused intently on blocking specific contacts from further reaching your line.
“Huh, ‘Toru, what the hell?”
“Wait—why are you blocking them? Those are my—” Your words faded as Satoru lifted his head from your lap and moves away from you, his piercing gaze fixed on yours as he gently grasped your chin between his forefinger and thumb.
“Why do you always insist on conversing with them, hmm? Do you like them?”
“What— no! It’s not like that, what the fuck?”
“If you really love me and Suguru, then you have to sever ties with that girl/guy and keep your distance, okay?”
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🔪Suguru really isn’t the jealous type, because he’s all about trust and loyalty when it comes to you and Satoru—He trusts you two.
🔪But, every now and then, a feeling of jealousy creep up inside him when he sees you and Satoru hanging out and having fun without him. He tries to brush it off though, understanding that you two are really close. He just wants to see his pretty lovers smiling, or at least that’s what he tells himself.
🔪When Suguru starts feeling jealous, it’s not a pretty sight. Beneath that kind and laid-back exterior lies a man who doesn’t really forgive that much. Suguru doesn’t forgive, and he doesn’t forget.
🔪Suguru may be a master at concealing his jealousy, but when it does surface, it’s like a storm crashing down. Picture this: you innocently text someone he’s really jealous of, and before you know it, your phone is pulled from your hands and tossed across the room while he summons a cursed spirit to destroy it completely, only to be replaced with a brand-new one moments later. Oh, and that person you were casually chatting with? It’s either you can consider them ghosted or consider them dead.
🔪Mentioning your ex around him was a big no-no. Because it immediately triggers him. can’t you just keep the spotlight on him and Satoru? One tiny mention of your ex’s name or Satoru reminiscing about his past flings, and Suguru’s mood immediately becomes sour.
🔪In stark comparison to Satoru, Suguru remains nonchalant about compliments being thrown around. He’s all for lifting people up until those compliments take a flirtatious turn. If that line is crossed, however, his cursed spirits will have its new meal.
🔪If Suguru was jealous and it led to an argument between you two, he would turn on his ultimate weapon—the silent treatment. He’d nonchalantly start hanging out with other people, making sure you noticed just to annoy you and make you jealous. He was well aware of his petty tendencies, but deep down, he simply wished for you to drop the bratty act and apologize.
🔪If you don’t really apologize and just pushed him over the edge... Well, you’ll have to say goodbye to your sanity because suguru is brutal as fuck when it comes to giving punishment.
🔪Unlike Satoru, who would guilt trip and manipulate you, Suguru would take it up a notch on the intensity scale. He wouldn’t shy away from using violence after all. And that doesn’t only apply to the person that he’s envious of, that applies to you too, and satoru. But that’s the difference, Satoru is a good boy, and you’re not.
🔪Suguru would be more than glad to kill someone in front of you and force you to watch it after all. He’ll hurt you too if you thrash and scream instead of being a good girl.
And you can’t really escape the both of them, after all, their love is like a noose.♡
🔪🔪🔪
Suguru’s hand forcefully clamped over your quivering lips, stifling any cries that tried to escape. His breath was hot against your skin, his fingers digging into your flesh with an iron grip, rendering you immobile. The metallic tang of blood invaded your nostrils. Your eyes were wide with terror, pupils shrinking, and your pulse quickening. A sickening view of gore played out before your horrified gaze, crimson splattering the walls, each nauseating squelch echoing through the room.
“I told you to stay away from them and you didn’t listen...” Suguru whispers, his breath hot against your neck, his delicate mouth parting to suck hard upon your pulsing skin, his mouth works its way slowly along your skin. And you shudder involuntarily beneath his touch, fear coursing through you as his lips close around a patch of flesh, sucking hard.
“See...? This is what happens when you disobey.”
The sharp prick of his teeth sends bolts of pain ricocheting through your body. Your already unsettled stomach lurches violently at the sight that greets you as you raise your head, struggling against his grip.
Before you, bound fast to a wooden chair, was the friend you had jokingly flirted with. Tears stream unchecked down their pallid cheeks, mingling with traces of dried blood, as their cries continue to ring in your ears.
Every limb was callously severed, Their bones was protruding out—the metacarpal bones, the carpal bones, the humerus, the ulna, the fibula, and other bones,  Their arms and legs are covered in long, vivid scarlet lines that are three inches wide, intersecting each other in a crisscross pattern and the wounds appear to have breached the surface of their skin, While suguru’s cursed spirits feeds on their severed flesh.
With a low, self-satisfied hum, Satoru drags the tip of the scalpel upwards your friend’s cheek, cutting them and the skin opens, revealing their inner facial muscle. He then reaches out to grasp a fistful of your friend’s hair, yanking their head back sharply to force clouded eyes up to meet your own.
“Suguruuuu, what do i do next? Do we gouge their eyes out for looking at our pretty girl that way?” 
“Do it. She said that she likes their eyes anyways... She’s probably implying that she prefers their eyes over yours.” Suguru smirks, humming as he pressed his body against yours, enjoying the way satoru’s face suddenly fell.
“Haah... Looks like i’ll be enjoying gouging their eyes then.”
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999h34rt · 1 day
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FLATLINE | PAIGE BEUCKERS
➣ paige x fem!gf!reader
➣ summary: y/n and paige experience what it means to be in a long distance relationship, but with the distance between them, can they overcome it?
➣ warning : secret relationship, angst (kinda) ,long distance.
➣ duayaps: first post🥳🥳🥳, thoughts?
➣ inspired by flatline by justin bieber.
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"I'LL MISS YOU" paige muttered against her neck.
"it'll go by before you know it" y/n said pulling away from the hug. When college applications started being filled, she took a big risk and applied for Politecnico di Milano, a fashion uni in Milan, Italy. She had already said goodbye to her parents, thinking that was the hardest goodbye she could imagine, but the tears in her eyes from saying goodbye to her girlfriend right now, told her she lied to herself a while ago.
Paige and y/n had always had a rocky side of their relationship, for one, it was a secret waiting to bomb the world, two, they always knew that long distance was going to be a thing for them. With Paige going to Uconn and Yn going to PDM, 'it was already doomed' said by most people. But overcoming the rocky side of their relationship, there was the fairytale side. The one where they in love, where they supported each other in everything, where they took each others first kisses, first everything. They were each other's lifelines in a way, they didn't go a day without speaking to each other.
They both hoped that these future 4 years, weren’t going to change their feelings of each other.
Lately you've been busy, wondering if you miss me
Why did you go against me? I just wanna know
How come you act so different? Talk to me, I'll listen
All the love I'm giving, don't act like you don't know
“…leave a message after the tone” y/n sighed as she hung up the phone. It was 7am and her alarm had just gone off, Paige was most likely asleep. It’s 1am at Storrs.
If you put the time difference aside, they were doing well. Both of them spent at least 2 hours everyday on the phone and haven’t had an any problems yet.
But it’s only been 5 months. 7 months and 3 years to go.
Y/n was glad Paige settled in great, she got along with her teammates and had a great support system there. Paige became a media star, with that came many fans. While y/n wasn’t the jealous type, these fans were wild.
She opened her instagram app, and slowly started to scroll through stories. When she stopped, went stiff. “Oh” she muttered, her girlfriend’s teammate, Aaliyah, had posted a story with the Uconn women’s basketball team having fun ,at what she would guess, a bar. Paige is in the background , a girl sitting next to her, whiles shes on the phone. Y/n quickly checked when the story was posted,10minutes ago.
‘Okay so she could’ve just posted this when she came home’ y/n quickly assured herself. Paige wouldn’t just ignore her calls, especially on a night out, right?
As those thoughts filled her head, a notification sound came from her phone.
pb 👩🏼‍❤️‍💋‍👩🏽
gm baby. can’t talk, tired, going to bed.
y/n didn’t think anything, she couldn’t. She just typed ‘sweet dreams💗’ and hit send.
no i love you, no ily, not even an emoji.
‘Stop, don’t overthink this ,shes just tired’ she told herself. She shut her phone off and got out of bed, leaving her thoughts about P in her comfy bed.
:
It had been a month since the bar incident, and everything seemed normal, until a week ago.
Y/n just got out of work, a small intern job to help her graduate early. It was 6pm in Milan, and 12 in Storrs.On her way home, y/n called P.
The phone rang, 1,2,3 times before she hung up. Tried a gain, 1,2,3. User is busy.Paige had hung up on her, she didn’t think much of it. ‘She’s probs busy’.
That was 6 days ago.
While they exchange texts, no calls were made this week. Paige was busy, like really busy, But not busy ‘not go out with her friends for the 3rd time this week’ busy. Y/n got it, freshman year, new teammates, she had to have fun. She also knew that their relationship was on the down low. Even though she assured Paige that it was okay to tell her teammates, P reluctantly agreed. ‘I don’t know, i’ll see’ She muttered to y/n, 2 weeks ago on their normal facetime call.
Y/n didn’t want to think much of it, she didn’t want her overthinking to brew a fight. The last 2 years she was back home, her and paige had never gone a day without speaking to each other, but so what it stopped now?, it was common sometimes to not call. So she let it be, but Paiges text became more and more rare,more dry and definitely more weird.
But y/n knew, paige was just busy.
Girl you always catch me at the bad time (Bad time)
When I know you probably think it's a lie (A lie)
I know I told you last time was the last time (Last time)
How could you pull the plug and leave me flatline?
On the other end of the phone. Y/n hit the red button, and ended the call. She hit her head on the wall behind her in frustration, thankful that the call wasn’t on facetime and Paige could see her sad face.
Y/n had called in sick at work so she could watch Paiges game in peace, her boss gave her an earful, because it was one of the more busier seasons in the fashion world, but she let her be ‘sick in bed’. She was proud of Paige, and was the happiest for her.
But the mood drifted when she heard the voice tell her they need her. ‘I need her too’ Y/n thought. This was the first time in a month that Y/n heard Paiges voice. Her heart clenched when she heard her sound weird, it sounded like she was frustrated. Frustrated with who though, with y/n?.
As time went quick, it felt like Paiges texts were more rare, and even more dry. And Y/n didn’t know if Paige was aware of the way she was acting, she also didn’t know if she should say anything, Paige was a freshman in college having fun, alone,without Y/n next to her.
If Y/n were to say anything, she didn’t want to seem like the bitchy jealous girlfriend that only wanted Paige to spend time with her, she just wanted Paige to spend some time with her.
It felt like their relationship was a bomb, and their time was running out quickly.
How could you pull the plug and leave me flatline? (Flatline)
Cause when I hit you, you don't even reply (Reply)
How could you pull the plug and leave me flatline?
Not breathing, what is it I'm not seeing
Said she's leaving, damn I can't believe it
It's like my heart's bleeding knowing that you don't need me
Shut my heart down, now I don't know what Imma do now
“… i just need some space y/n” Paige said with frustration, a sigh coming after. Y/n’s heart dropped.
It all started an hour and a half ago.
Paige went out with her teammates after a late night practice, forgetting that y/n was waiting on her phone call that she promised she would do after practice.
After she came home, she was bombarded with messages from Y/n. 8 to be exact.
y/n💍
hey did you finish practice?
- 8:15PM
you ready?
- 8:18PM
paige?
- 8:20PM
paigeeeeeeee???
- 8:30PM
pbabyyyy
- 8:35PM
pls tell me u didn’t forget
- 8:45PM
paige are you fucking kidding me
- 9:45PM
it’s our anniversary
- 9:45PM
call me when you get home and make sure you’re not busy
- 9:50PM
And when she called, the yelling happened. It was the first fight they’ve had in a while. While Y/n finally exploded demanding to know what’s happening with her, Paige only had one thing to say.
“I think we should take a break”
“What?” Y/n whispered after a long pause.
“i’m not ready to be in a relationship Y/n/n, i’m still questioning what i want, and i don’t know if its you yet.” Paige said. “I’m sorry, i just need some space Y/n”
Y/n heart dropped, she didn’t know what to say or think. While Y/n knew that not everything lasted, Paige was a sure thing. Paige was her lifeline. What was she going to do?.
Y/n gulped and said the only thing she knew she could say “It’s okay”.
‘It’s okay?’ Paige was taken back. Had Y/n want to breakup before?, and then Paige shockingly felt hurt in her chest, her stomach slightly dropped. Why was she feeling like this? why isn’t she feeling relief?. This has been on Paiges mind for the past 3 months, wasn’t this the solution?
“Go be a superstar but don’t expect me to wait for you while you figure out what you want to do” Y/n said, her voice sweet. Not even a slight tone of bitterness.
Y/n still wasn’t able to move from her spot on the kitchen counter. Tears were streaming down her face, and before a sob sound could come, she hung up the phone. All Y/n knew was Paige, but know she didn’t even know that.
She had literally left her clueless, without her lifeline. now flatline.
- 5 MONTHS LATER -
Paige stood there, watching from her afar.
“That’s her?” a croatian accent asked. She felt Nika sit beside her. “Yeah” Paige answered still in awe of her.
“She’s really pretty” Nika said. Paige nodded agreeing with her. She was wearing a flowy white short summer dress with cowboy boots.
It was Drews birthday today, and as the team had some off time, Drew invited them to his barbecue party. And the weekend before his birthday, he ran into Y/n. Of course the boy was oblivious to the breakup and while he asked still asked Paige for Y/n, she didn’t have the heart to tell him that they broke up.
So when Drew begged Y/n to come to his birthday party, Y/n didn’t know what else to say but yes. He could literally get whatever he wanted out of everyone.
At first, Y/n debated if she should just call Paiges stepmom and cancel, or she should just go and pray that Paige couldn’t make it.
Well, Paige had come. And so did the rest of the huskies. When Y/n saw them, she sighed. Although she was friends with Azzi, she didn’t know the rest of them, but by the look on their faces when she came in, she knew that Paige had told them her history.
Azzi, being the sweetheart she is, excitedly came running to Y/n and hugging her tight. The whole party they caught up with each other, with Azzi telling her about Uconn and Y/n telling her about studying abroad. For the past 30 minutes they’ve been talking, not once have either of them mentioned Paige.
Y/n turned, meeting Paiges eyes. The two of them made eye contact with each other again. Y/n then heard Azzi laughed, when she snapped her head to look at her friend. She saw a small teasing smile on her face. “Don’t even start” Y/n said, glaring at her. She got up and made her way to the other side of the backyard, where there was no Paige in sight.
“Y/n/n” she heard a child scream. Drew was suddenly hugging her legs. “Hi Drewsky” she laughed, beginning to tickle him. She felt the boy starting to laugh, and start to kick her hands away, while Paige and her were together, Drew became a big part in their relationship. Paiges parents often made Paige babysit Drew, and Y/n just tagged along. Through that time, Drew and Y/n became close, Y/n considered him as a baby brother. She would miss him.
“Paigeyy help me” Drew screamed laughing. Y/n became stiff, the hair behind her neck stood. She could feel her ex behind her as she let the little boy go and stand up.
Paige and Y/n stared at one another. Paige was thankful her teammates weren’t around right now, they would be on her ass all day after this.
“Hi” Y/n whispered, looking away from her and to the ground.
“Hey” Paige said back. “How’ve you been-“
“Paige please no small talk, what do you want?” Y/n cut her off. This was already awkward enough, no need to make it even more.
“Uh” Paige stuttered, a sigh coming after. “I missed you” Paige admitted. Y/n’s blood boiled, now she missed me?
Paige could sense Y/n anger, she placed a hand on Y/n elbow, tugging her from leaving. “Please just wait” Paige pleaded “I’m sorry, i just didn’t know what to do i kept having all of this kind of feelings and i know i was busy but i swear just one more chance-“
“Paige” y/n cut her off
“- and i’ll promise i’ll try harder-“ paige continued
“-stop-“ she tried to stop her
“please just give me one more chance”
“-okay” she agreed. Paiges eyes went wide, she didn’t think she would get her to agree that easy.
“I only needed you to apologize P, i only want you to make some time for me thats all. And if were really trying this again you have to be sure you want this because i don’t know if i can handle loosing you again” She said still looking at the ground.
Paiges heart dropped hearing her voice break. Although she knew how Y/n felt, Paige had been nothing but moody,grumpy and miserable these past few months. Seeing Y/n today, brought her hope that she had a second shot with her.
Y/n slowly picked up her head, and looked up at Paige. Paige was jaw dropping hot, and she knew that, her head couldn’t get any bigger by her ego.
Paige reached a hand towards her waist, pulling Y/n towards her. When she did, she slowly dropped a sweet kiss on her girlfriends lips, when she pulled away, her forehead dropped to Y/n’s.
She felt like she could finally breathe, her chest no longer hurt. She had her lifeline back.
219 notes · View notes
fuckmyskywalker · 1 day
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𝐇𝐢𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐧!𝐀𝐧𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈: 𝐌𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐬.
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Summary: A week of chaos. From the end to the very beginning. You find yourself in the darkness, remembering how the light touched your skin first. When you fly too close to the sun...
CW: 18+. dead dove do not eat, non-con, gun play, knife play, knife riding, death threats, dirty talk, dark content. | word count: 3.3k
a/n: Hope you enjoy it! DNI if you don't like the topics listed and DNI if you are a minor. Happy riding!
Hitman!Anakin series.
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"𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢 𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘱𝘪𝘦𝘤𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘤𝘺."
Sunday. 16th.
Comically, he could argue with any soul that crossed the empty streets that life doesn’t have a price. He could laugh at the soft-spoken, naive answer of self-value, laced with the dumb kindness of human nature. Humans are kind by nature, or that’s what idealists say; what— a sane person, he thinks— would say is that humans are selfish by nature, the realistic approach.
Since the start of times, the number two has been sacred. There are two worlds to join in the afterlife: Heaven and hell. Two deities to recognize: God and the Devil. Two spectrums: Good and bad. Two cycles: Day and night… and two options: To kill, or get killed. 
It could also be described as a constant phrase he learned while growing up: “The strong one will eat the weak one”, eight words haunting him like the plague, following him and patting his shoulder at every failure, and congratulating him at every success. Strength equals power, money equals power, intelligence equals power… but can a man have it all without losing his mind? Or perhaps he is just getting philosophical when he shouldn’t. Unlocking the windows with ease as his mind races with the never-ending turmoil of an unfair life, edging him to do unfair jobs, and win dirty money. 
Although Anakin Skywalker has learned that some hot dish soap helps clean the blood stains over dollar signs.
Twisting the knife— an anxious habit— Anakin stands beside your bed, watching your immobile boy. There’s a soft smile plastered on your face, you must be having a nice dream… too bad it won’t last long. Leaning down, the tip of the knife dances over your neck, careful— careful. Not yet. Those aren’t his instructions. Although his boss never specified the in-betweens. 
His lips ghost over the shell of your ear, raising goosebumps in your slumber. Your skin is aware of the intruder, the instincts kicking in. “Hey,” His voice is barely audible, but his warm breath sends a jolt of adrenaline like a lethal injection directly into your veins. “Wake up.”
Your eyes shoot open, body jolting forward only to be pushed back by the knife against your throat and his gloved hand over your face. There’s no need to use brutal force, it’s easy to fuel your fear; blue eyes staring into yours through the holes of the black ski mask. He can tell you are shaking— in fact, he can see it. 
“Don’t move, don’t try to scream. If you do, I’ll slice your throat from ear to ear. Smiley face, that’s why I like to call that,” He chuckles when he sees you shivering. Oh, to be the strong one grants him with a power that makes him feel alive. Who cares about repercussions when simple acts and sighs like your tears make him feel immortal? “Do I make myself clear?”
You nod weakly. Every fiber of your being is yelling at you to run, to push him and throw him everything within your reach but you can’t move. Your body is paralyzed and for the first time in your privileged life, you realize something frightening. When he pulls back and lets go of you, the loud exhale that escapes your lungs pleasures him even further. Good. Everything is going according to plan.
It doesn’t matter how much money you have. You can die just like anyone else. 
“See, I can imagine you already know why I am here,” Anakin continues, chuckling when you shake your head. “No? Uh, I thought you’d be smarter. Well, I guess money can’t buy intelligence.”
Your eyes flicker to his wrist, watching him twist the knife. At least he isn’t all over you. How can a human be so calm while toying with another’s future? As if it wasn’t a delicate situation, as if money was everything in the world— pathetic. 
Stuttering, you run toward the only option your brain knows. “I’ll d–double the price. I’ll triple it,” Your legs move, hanging them on the edge of your tall bed. Anakin arches an eyebrow, he could’ve killed you for moving. Yet, he is somewhat interested in your offer. “I can pay much more than whoever hired you.”
“Oh, really?” Anakin laughs. It’s a cold, bitter laugh. There is no humor in it. Only cruelty. “And what makes you think money was the only thing I got paid with?”
“Who hired you?”
He laughs again. It has been seconds since you heard him laugh for the first time and you loathe the sound already. “That’s for me to know and for you to find out, darling. Or maybe I’m lying. Maybe it’s just like the movies and I get a mystery envelope with money and your name. Would that make you feel better?”
He is definitely mocking you, which normally would raise your anger and bring out the worst in you— right now it seems like a bad choice. Anakin can’t blame you for questioning, every victim does, sometimes he grants them their wish— when they aren’t that important— sometimes he just does the job, hoping they die with their doubts as their last thought. Your life's on the line, it must be the first time someone has pierced your little bubble… so yeah, he can’t blame you. 
“Please don’t kill me, I’ll… I’ll do anything.”
There it is. Classic. His favorite words. Anything means anything. Everything is fair in love and war— everything is fair at gunpoint. “Anything?’ He repeats. “It’s not like I haven’t heard that one before.” His sarcastic tone flies over your head. You cannot pay attention to anything else besides the ringing in your eardrums and the palpitations of your heart. 
Anakin finds great joy in fueling the terror in your soul. It is something he wasn’t exactly born with— or at least, during his loneliest nights, buried in alcohol and money, surrounded by his guns and his ghosts. He isn’t afraid of them, they can’t hurt him. 
“Anything,” You confirm, lip wobbling and tears streaming down your cheeks. His task was awfully simple, yet, there is something he must do first now that he sees you more clearly. Anakin doesn't have the pleasure to witness such a pretty downfall often.
In a swift move, Anakin lifts the knife over his head, smirking wider when you raise your hands in a pitiful attempt at self-defense. Expectant, you sob one last time before the pain comes, before the burning sensation of piercing skin and crimson blood. 
Which never arrives. 
The sharp blade pierces through the sheets and the mattress. Ripping the stitches and creating the most awful sound you have ever heard in your life. That could’ve been your face. Did he miss his shot? Is his aim that bad? Your vision is blurry due to the thick coat of tears, crystal clear and salty that trickle down like tiny diamonds. 
“Money is not enough this time, sweetheart,” He coos at you, cupping your cheek and brushing your tears in a fake act of kindness. His pursed lips make your stomach twist. You never thought there’d be fates worse than death… but here you are. “I won’t kill you—” His words make your shoulder fall for a second as a smile dances on your chapped lips like the weak swing of a butterfly’s wings. “Yet.”
“What do you want from me?” You sob, placing your hands on your lap, not sure what to do with them. You are in no position to fight. You are under the mercy of a clear psychopath. Someone without morals, without ethics and values— under the claws of a monster. 
The worst part? You don’t even know who is pulling the strings tied over the monster’s claws. 
“Don’t be sad, sweetheart. I’m sure you will find it amusing— and if you don’t I don’t care,” If you weren’t begging for your life, his voice could’ve been attractive. Even his eyes. His fucking eyes that seem to pierce your soul. “You see that handle?” He points at the knife with his chin. “I want you to lift your cute nightgown and ride it. You can close your eyes and imagine a cock, I’m sure you’ve done it before from what I’ve heard about you. If I like the show, I’ll let you ride my cock— and if I don’t like it. I’ll kill you.”
“You cannot possibly ask me to—”
A small squeal escapes your lips when the muzzle of a gun comes in contact with your temple. The steel is frigid against your burning skin. There are no words left in your throat, if you weren’t terrified you would’ve thrown up. 
“You don’t like to think, you don’t like to listen— I’m starting to believe you are actually stupid, princess. You either fuck that knife or die.” Your whimper. Irritating. Infuriating. Fucking lovely. 
Lifting your hips from the bed, you kneel with the little strength you have left. Anakin never removes the gun from your temple, in reality, he presses it further, watching your skin dent slightly. Lifting your sheer nightgown, you clumsily hook your finger at the waistband of your panties, tugging them down with embarrassment.
“Please don’t make me do this,” You beg, losing balance momentarily as your panties hang from your ankle. 
There is a storm echoing in his laugh. Like pouring rain falling over your heart before it even reaches your ears. “If you don’t do it, I’ll force you. I will enjoy it more… and then you’ll die.”
The flat tip of the blade handle feels like steel against your folds. The touch is feathery light, perhaps unintentionally gentle. You are glad there is a thick leather wrapped around it— otherwise, it might hurt even more. 
Rocking your hips slowly, you close your eyes focusing on anything else. You will not enjoy this. You refuse to give him pleasure. If this is the way you die— at least you want to imagine you put up some kind of fight. Despite your constant thoughts— foolishly thinking your mind is stronger than your body— when the handle comes in contact with your clit, your body instinctively jolts. You stop. You don’t talk. 
You don’t want to die. You don’t want to die, and you don’t want to enjoy it.
“Spread your legs wider and don’t stop moving. Don’t make me go there and open them myself,” His voice is low. “Show me how much you don’t want this.” His voice mixed with the adrenaline brings you to a borderline dizzy state. 
Resuming your movements, you bite the inner part of your cheek, flinching when his free hand cups your breast. “See? Is not that difficult to obey. I know you are so used to getting your way, little princess. But not this time. Not with me.”
His thumb traces your nipple poking through the silk. You hate yourself for this— even more when you find a steady rhythm. Your clit grinds against the flat top and throbs, quickly begging for more. Hooking the barrel underneath the thin straps of your nightgown, Anakin lets them fall, exposing your chest. 
“Don’t come. If you do, your tiny brains will make a bloody mess over your lovely canopy and walls. Now fucking ride it.”
The leather glistens with your arousal. It’s pathetic, humiliating, miserable. When you position yourself above it, when you flex your knees to fit it— that’s when everything you are— breaks. 
The handle stretches your walls in a way that couldn’t be more uncomfortable. Your arousal helps but only much. Unhurriedly, you begin to ride it just like he commanded you to, just like you have to. Your pussy clenches around it, you can’t even fool yourself and think it is a dick. Nothing could help you now. No one can save you now.
“Seems to be you can listen sometimes…” Anakin observes, removing the gun from your skull to press it against the valley of your breasts. “Don’t think I can’t see how wet you are. Are you that deranged you are enjoying this?”
Are you?
Is he?
You just have to do this. Right?
Too many questions, no answers. 
“Faster.”
Increasing your pace, the tears make themselves known again. You are enjoying it. Your walls are dripping, your pussy is begging for more. The slick sticks to the leather like a second layer of shine, the sounds your body is making are against your will— but you can’t stop moving. Anakin breathes loudly, his own excitement evident. You cannot see the outline of his erection underneath his black cargo pants but he feels it, throbbing, leaking, eager to bury itself in you. Hear you sob and feel you clench after every cry.
“So fucking wet,” He mumbles, pressing his lips against your sweaty neck. The soft cotton of his ski mask brushes over your skin, bringing you a nasty comfort. “Remember, if you come… you die.”
The muzzle now dances over your nipple, distracting you from the burn in your lower stomach for a second— when his hand finds your clit. Circling it quickly, roughly, Anakin exhales again right in your ear. 
“I can’t wait to fuck you. I hope you are ready to die while I bury my cock inside you.”
A loud moan, mixed with a throat-ripping wail falls down your lips, body writhing and hips trashing. The handle is as deep as it can go, and before your vision goes white you feel the gun poking underneath your chin. Your hands curl around the hem of the nightgown you are still lifting, almost piercing the expensive and delicate fabric. Your orgasm is strong, it clouds your senses and for a moment the euphoria makes you forget how you just marked your destiny. The handle is sticky just like your thighs. The world is spinning.
Your life is ruined.
Just as your vision goes white, it goes black.
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Monday. 10th.
Politics are known to be comparable to walking on thin ice. One false step and you sink— all the way to the cold and lonely bottom. Made only for the ones who can twist and turn others under their will and for those who aren’t scared of the nerve-wracking possibility of being a hero or a villain. 
When your father offers you the vacancy for Campaign Manager you don’t hesitate to take the opportunity. Daddy dearest always serves opportunities such as these on a silver platter. Why would you refuse? Sure, a week before the presidential elections might be signing a death sentence, but why would you care? Even if you fall, your safety net is insured, secured and endorsed. 
“Are you sure you can do this alone?” Natasha Andrews, your father’s assistant lowers her clipboard, focusing her dirty blue eyes on you from beneath her thin-gramme glasses. “We have a week before the election, these last days are crucial.”
“I’ll be fine!” You answer confidently. To have such confidence and naivety that being young gives you. You just feel invincible. “I read some of John’s final projects. A few venues and bookings won’t scare me.”
“I don’t think you are seeing the big picture here,” Natasha calls your name patiently. Removing her glasses, folding them and placing them next to her clipboard, you can already imagine a boring lecture about responsibility. You’ll be fine! “Your father has an image to maintain, a reputation to hold and the statistics are growing in his favor. This last week is to secure the win. Your father chose you for a reason.” Another way to say ‘There are high expectations. You better fulfill them.’
Huffing, you take her words as a weak attempt at an insult. You understand the big picture. You’ve been surrounded by the big picture since you can remember. “Why are you looking at me like that?” 
Natasha runs a hand through her ginger locks, taking a deep breath. She’s too old to deal with all this. “Look. I know you are young and I’m sure you have wonderful ideas for the campaign, but our time is limited. We can only continue with the schedule and hope for the best. If your ideas can be incorporated into the events then you are more than welcome.”
Always used to getting your way, you find baffling how someone who doesn’t know can defy you— or in your eyes, Natasha is doubting your capacities. Standing up, you point at her. Your manicured nail, painted a crimson red holds an almost accusatory tone. You don’t have to prove anything to anyone— not even your father. There is no chance of failure, because when you are young… you are on top of the world.
“No, you look. I know you are worried but I can do this,” You reply, not bothering to hide the patronizing tone in your voice. “My father knows I’m more than capable. You may not know me but you will. If I want to change the date of a venue, or if I want to make a goddamned pool party we will. I know what’s best, I know what will work.”
Natasha raises an eyebrow at your words, her expression hardening slightly. “I never doubted your… abilities, Miss. We have a schedule we must follow. Nothing personal. It is your first day in your position. Can you even name three key supporters of Jonathan's campaign? Have you planned a meeting with potential donors for when your father wins the elections?”
The assistant has a point, but you won’t give up. You will never lose a fight. 
“Easy, everything you say is too easy,” You narrow your eyes, placing both palms on the desk to hide how they shake from frustration. “If I say the word, my father will fire you. It doesn’t matter how long you have been working with him. I’m his daughter.”
That’s your wild card.
And as usual, it works. 
Sighing through gritted teeth, Natasha rubs her temple. How can an educated girl like yourself be such a despicable person? “Go on.” 
The smile that brightens your face beams like flames. Threatening to consume everything on its way. Everything is easy when you have the influence. You were born with it, what’s wrong with using it? “Alright… key supporters….”
The redhead scribbles down as you talk, from all you know she is playing hangman with your face on the stick figure, not that you care, of course. Your mood heightens as she just listens and comments on trivial things such as locations and schemes. You knew it would be easy. You just need people that follow you. 
“We can do the last meet-and-greet at Cafe Serenity. My father invested in the project and the owner owes him that. I’m sure if we present the petition he will accept,” You talk, tangling the wires inside your head. “I can schedule an interview with Channel 7, Global News Network, and Insider Globe, they do most of the coverage during the elections and my father knows the actionist in GNN…”
“The meet-and-greet sounds good. It’s the perfect strategy to calculate the supporters Jonathan has. Plus the media coverage will be wonderful,” Her jaw clenches as she talks, but you are too busy staring at your nails to see the daggers coming from her eyes. “You’ve got a good grasp on this.”
“I know,” You smile, ignoring the fake smile. 
Suddenly, your phone rings. It’s an unknown number. A frown etches on your face as you pick it up. Excusing yourself from the table, Natasha nods, her blue orbs gluing to your back; if looks could kill…
Closing the door of the meeting room behind you, you bring the phone closer to your ear. “Hello? Who is this?” 
Silence.
“Hello?”
A feminine voice breaks the silence. The unknown woman calls your name and your heart stops momentarily. It sounds vaguely familiar, and it carries a heavy accent that you can’t pinpoint from where. 
“Lisseth? Is that you?” Your chirp echoes through the empty hallway. “I can’t believe you are back!”
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Thank you for reading! ✩
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bahablastplz · 2 days
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Changbin + Choking
CW: Choking (obviously), Slight dom Changbin, praise, thigh riding WC: 650
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Thinking abt asking Changbin to choke you for the first time…
“You want me to what?” 
“You know, choke me? If you’re okay with it, I mean… but I just thought it would be hot.” 
“But what if I hurt you baby?” He looks up at you for a second, concern washing over his features. 
“I kind of… want you to?” He looks at you with wide eyes, but you interrupt him before he can speak. “Okay well, it’s more like, really hot to think that you *could* hurt me, you know? Like you have these really big and sexy muscles, you’re really strong so you can like, hold me in place and squeeze my throat without really hurting me, but I’ll feel it, right? Like, you’re the one that has all that power over me, you’re the one in control,” you say. You know you’re rambling, but when you look up your boyfriend has a pained expression on his face. 
“Mhmm,” is all he says, but it sounds more like a squeak. 
“Bin… you okay?” “Am I okay… yeah yeah yeah yeah, I’m fine!” He says all too quickly. “I’m so fine. I’m really good, actually, I’m–” 
“Bin.” 
He takes a deep breath and looks at you, pink dusting his cheeks. “Fine, baby. That was just so hot, I don’t know. I’m just embarrassed about how that made me feel. Why don’t you come here, yeah? And I can show you?”
He pulls you into where he’s sitting on the couch, his hands on your hips as he guides you down. As you start to straddle him he tsks, picking you up and placing you right where he wants you–His thigh. 
“Wait, Bin… I want you–”
“Shh,” he interrupts. “You’re gonna be okay. Can you show me how badly you want me? Need you to get off on my thigh first.” 
You hesitate for a second but when his hand wraps around your throat you gasp. Your hips start moving back and forth on his clothed thigh before you can even think further. 
“Fuck, baby. Just like that. You like my muscles that much? Need you to show me how good my thigh is making you feel.” 
The hand on your throat squeezes just a little bit and when you let out a delicious moan your boyfriend lets out his own breathy sigh in return. He looks just as utterly wrecked, eyes dark and lips parted and hair messed up and sticking out in the wrong places–all from the simple actions of you grinding against his thigh, your clothed clit rubbing deliciously against the material. 
You get worked up way too fast until your hips sputter, losing your rhythm. Before you realize, you’re rocking back and forth at that same speed, and you realize that Changbin is pushing and pulling you onto his thigh by the grip on your throat. His grip is sturdy but not bruising, though the way he manhandles you by the most vulnerable part of your body with all of the control in the world makes your head spin. You let your body still, him now doing most of the work for you.
“Fuck, close…” you warn. 
You feel him flex his thigh underneath you, the muscles contracting against your clothed core. He drags your body against the fabric even harder, the pressure building up even more. 
“You look so good like this,” he breathes. “God baby, cum for me. Let me make you finish all over me so I can fuck you on my cock.” 
Your thighs shake as you finish and he helps you ride out your release before he lets go of your neck. You slump forward into him, catching your breath as he cradles your head into him, stroking your hair. 
“I’m gonna fuck you now, okay baby? Want me to choke you while you ride my cock?” 
*** Masterlist Recs
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Ready, Aim, Shoot (3)
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Hi guys!
I post it again, the other one just disappeared without any reason. Sorry if you already red it.
TW : Blood, creepy psychologist, panic attack, angst, depression.
PART 1 | PART 2
Blood. There is blood everywhere. The more you look, the more there is. You look at your shaking hands, cover in red. You don’t know whose blood is it though. The room you are in is only white, adding to the contrast with the blood color. Breathing quickly, you look around and that’s when you finally see her.
Alexia.
Alexia is laying in the middle of the room, her body surrounded by red too. Panicking, you kneel next to her, shaking her to try to wake her. But she doesn’t. She stays still in your hand, not moving. Not breathing. This is when you scream.
You scream so much that it wakes you up suddenly. Heavily breathing, you sit on your bed, blindly trying to find the button on your bedside lamp. You finally managed to find it, but when you put the light on, Alexia isn’t next to you in your bed.
It’s only when you left your room to look for her that you remember. She’s not here tonight, she’s sleeping in Tenerife, where she played today. Or yesterday, because it’s actually three in the morning. It’s the first time she leaves
you alone for all the night since you came back.
Alexia Is not here, but it’s your fault. You assured her that you will be ok, almost pushing her out of your flat. She made you swear to call her if you need her, no matter what time is it. She asked Mapi to come to look for you last night, so you watched the game with the blonde before she went home. You fell asleep quickly actually, you were far to imagine a wake up like that.
You should really call her; she will be disappointed with you if she learns the state of panic you are in without calling her. But you hate the idea to wake her up at this time of the night. She played yesterday, she’s coming home today. She needs to rest.
You find refuge on your couch, putting the TV on. But you can’t forget the picture of Alexia and the blood everywhere. You feel like it’s still on your body, no matter how many times you look at your hands to be sure that you don’t have a little red on you. Thirty minutes after you wake up, you decided to go take a shower.
You pass a long time under it, water burning, washing your body again and again. You ignore the scare that your accident left on your body. You hate them. No matter how many times Alexia kissed them, telling you that you are strong and even more beautiful than before.
You feel guilty as hell when you think about your girlfriend. She is amazing with you, so patient and so loving. You don’t feel like you deserve her. You don’t make any progress with your mental health and it’s disturbing. You even think about breaking up with Alexia one time, disgusting by yourself. She deserves so much more than you. But right after you had a panic attack, because how can you live without her? She’s your whole world.
You are not even strong enough to make the things right for her.
When the feeling of the hot water and the strength with which you rubbed your skin became too much to handle, you stop the water and get out of the shower. This time your skin is red, but you know why.
You pick a hoodie from Alexia and one of her old Barcelona’s short. If you can’t have your girlfriend’s arms, at least you can have her smell. And, after some hesitation, you even take her pillow to go with you to the couch of your living room. You take snack and watch some stupid things on TV while scrolling on your phone.
You are still tired, but you don’t want to take the risk to fall asleep again. You’re terrified to have this dream again. Every time the images came back in your brain, you try to hug Alexia’s pillow harder. It kind of work, but it has nothing to do with Alexia’s comfort.
You fall asleep after 8 o’clock, after your girlfriend told you that they are boarding and that she will be home soon.
You are still asleep when Alexia comes home. She smiles seeing you laying on the couch, cuddle against her pillow, in her clothes. You are watching YouTube now, from her account, and you choose the playlist where she puts all the games she finds interesting. Only putting her suitcase on the ground, she comes to sit next to you, softly stroking your hair.
“Alexia?” you mumble, opening your eyes with difficulty.
“Hi sleepy head”
Her smile is affectionate, and you get up on one elbow to rub your eyes and have a better look at her. Her hairs are down and she seems fine. She seems happy, maybe to see you? The plan was that she takes a taxi with Jana to come back home, Alexia didn’t want you to drive because some noises sometimes make you jump.
“How are you?” Alexia asks softly.
“Can I have a hug?”
She smiles and passes her arms around you to hug you. But you lay on the couch again, taking her with you on it. She giggles and you smile, forgetting for the first time your nightmare.
“I’m glad you’re here” you whisper after some minutes.
“I’m glad to be back to you too.”
You hum, turning a little to pass a lag around her knees and cuddle tighter against her. She’s stroking your back lovingly, sometimes kissing your head. You started to wonder how much mental pressure you are putting on her when she talks again.
“You remember Marta? From the media team?”
“I think I do” you answer, frowning. “Why?”
“She just left for her maternity leave, and she doesn’t know for now if she will come back.”
“Ok?”
You are still frowning when you look at your girlfriend, not understanding where she wants to go. I mean you are happy that people have baby and all. But what does it make a change for you?
It looks like Alexia’s idea was that you apply for the job. You try to escape that idea, not really happy about the idea of meeting tons of people who will know about your story and look at you with pity in their eyes. But Alexia assures you that it won’t happen, adding that you just can go for the interview without saying yes after.
Long story short, you are now sitting on your desk for your first day.
Your job is basically to find idea of activities to anime the games, a little more marketing than journalism to be honest. But it looks fun and like Alexia said before, when Marta will come back, you don’t have to stay here if you don’t want to.
********
“Hi, I’d like a meeting with the new media manager?”
A voice in front of you make you raise your head, even if you recognize it immediately. Alexia is smirking at you from the door of your office, looking like she just finishes her shower. Which she probably did given the time.
“I’m sorry, but you have to talk to my assistant first, she will give you my time schedule” you smirk back.
Alexia frown slightly, closing the door behind her before coming for you.
“You have an assistant?”
You know that frown and you roll your eyes while standing up to great her like she deserves it.
“Yes, I have” you answer, letting yourself go against her when she takes you in her arms.
She hums, her lips against your hair, trying to look discreetly in the open office by the window. The gesture makes you chuckle and you raise your head to have a better look at her.
“What? I was just looking to know if you knew her, that’s all.”
“Sure, mi Amor.”
She pouts and you kiss it better, just to see the smile she has right after. You weren’t really happy to start to work again to be honest, but you have to admit that it’s a good thing for you to keep your head busy with something. Alexia was right, once again.
“Are you ready to leave? I’m taking you home.”
“I am.”
You take your stuff with you, before letting Alexia passes her arm around your waist to take you with her. You don’t know if it’s only the jealousy talking right now, but you have to admit that she is way more openly affective with you since your accident. Not that you have a problem with it, obviously. But the way her gaze is scanning the room when you left after saying goodbye to your colleagues, it makes you think that there is at least a little part of jealousy in it.
Which is totally stupid, you only see her.
“You seems happier” Alexia says cautiously over her plate that night.
You look at her for some seconds before nodding. You are, but you are scared to mention it in case that it makes your nightmares coming back.
“I am. Thanks to you” you smile softly.
“Are you really? Or are you hiding something for me like when I was away for the game to Tenerife?”
You blush and almost chock on your tomato, but you somehow are able to keep some dignity. You don’t take the time to try to deny her statement though, you know that she knows. Of course she does. She reads you like an open book. Alexia has the decency to not point anything else, waiting patiently for your answer.
“I really am better. You were right, I really needed to get out from here even if it was difficult at first. It’s great to have something to do, not that cooking for you wasn’t entertaining. But going out… It’s great.”
She nods softly, without leaving your face with her eyes. You know immediately that there is something else in her mind, but you don’t push, letting her carry the conversation.
“Do you think I was too suffocating with you? Maybe if I…”
“No!” you cut her after some seconds of incredulity. “Alexia how could you…? Are you joking? You are the reason that I’m still here and mentally good. You are the reason that I keep fighting to be fine again. I couldn’t have done it without you. I forbid you to think of anything like that.”
“I’m sorry. It’s some insecurities and I shouldn’t have told you that” she frowns again, playing with her forks and some pasta left in her plate.
“Alexia, don’t please.”
She looks at you again when you stand up, just to come sit on her lap. She welcomes you by taking you close against her with her arms. You pass your arms around your neck, one of your fingers playing with the baby hair on her neck.
“You are so perfect to me. I don’t know if I’ll be able to thank you enough one day for it. You were always right and done nothing wrong all those days. A lot of people would have abandoned, but you are still here with me.”
“I’ll never abandon you” she mumbles right into your eyes.
You can see how much she means those worlds and you have to take all your strength not to start crying like a baby. You’re pretty sure that your eyes are shining from tears but you busy yourself by stroking her cheek tenderly.
“You said one time that my come back is a miracle, do you remember? Well, you are my miracle.” you add, after she nods.
She kisses you and the way she did makes your head turned. She only let you breath for several seconds when you need air, before kissing you again with even more intensity. You had sex again after some weeks of rehab from your part, but not like you did before your departure. And it’s hard to see Alexia restrain her gestures, scared as hell to hurt you. Tonight though, you feel like that maybe it will come back.
********
It came back.
You are laying on your bed, lovingly enveloped in your girlfriend’s arms. Her skin is so soft against yours, your face hiding in her neck. You are lull by Alexia’s deep and slow breathing and you are starting to wonder if she’s falling asleep when she talks quietly.
“How are you feeling?”
“Great. Safe. Warm.”
“Perfect” Alexia sighs softly, moving a little to be more comfortable on the mattress.
You look up at her, admiring the shape of her jaw, her perfect nose, her beautiful eyes, and her so kissable lips.
“What?” she asks when she sees you staring.
“Nothing” you giggle. “You’re just so beautiful.”
She rolls her eyes before closing them, tightening you harder against her. You don’t need anything than her body to keep you warm and you love it.
“Would you be angry if I stopped working there?”
The sudden question makes her open her eyes again to look at you. She seems to be thinking for several seconds before answering.
“Of course not. Why do you want to stop anyway? Is someone nasty with you?”
“Not at all” you deny, already imagine her hunting the person who would do that to you. “I was thinking that… maybe I could finish one of my book projects?”
“You mean one of your thousand amazing scenario who are desperately waiting on your computer?”
“Exactly that” you answer, rolling your eyes.
She teases you way to much about it already.
“If it’s what you want, of course I’ll support you. But what about going out to meet people?”
You see the worried already and you answer, kissing her cheek.
“I’ll go write into a Café or something. Maybe seeing people, crowd and streets will help me to get idea.”
********
That’s exactly what you did, after finishing your job with the media. The first days, you weren’t really effective, more focused on what’s going on around you and which story you want to choose. After some debate with yourself and help asking to your mother and Alexia, you choose to mix two stories and start writing again. It made you start from the beginning, but it’s maybe better like this.
You still get to your psychiatrist to your session twice a week, always a little more scared to go without Alexia. Your psychiatrist told both of you that it could be good for you to come without your girlfriend. Alexia accepted immediately, always being interested in everything that can make you feel better.
You always have a strange feeling without Alexia’s halo, and it’s only happened when you come here. You don’t have trouble to go grocery shopping without Alexia or go to the Café to write.
It’s particularly hard to come today, you talked to Alexia by the phone before your appointment to ease your stress. She seems to realize that something is wrong, because she talks a lot about her day. She only does that to change your mind, and you love her for that.
“Hello Y/N” your therapist greats you.
You great her back and start talking about your new occupation, your activities since the last time and the travel Alexia proposed to you last night. It was something you can’t stop to think about since she mentioned it, eager to go away for some days in the sun with the woman you love.
“Don’t you think it will be too soon?” the doctor asks, only looking at her notepad.
You are taken aback. You would never have thought that she can be thinking that it’s a bad idea. She never stops to tell you to go ahead and try new things since the beginning.
“Taking a plane, going to an airport, in a place that might remind you of your trauma? What would you do if you have one of your panic attacks there?”
You don’t know what to answer to that. Alexia mentioned Canary Islands and a private hotel with a private beach, which seems far away from the Middle East.
“No, I mean… I’m going better now. And I’ll be with Ale. Everything will be ok.”
She looks at you this time, raising an eyebrow. Her look is sharp, almost mean and you have trouble swallow your saliva. You feel like a schoolgirl getting bullied by her teacher.
“Don’t you think you already lean too much on the poor girl? Maybe she suggests the holidays to have some rest, are you sure she wants you to go with her?”
You don’t really remember the end of the appointment and you don’t know how you managed to find yourself in the Barcelona’s facilities. You can’t think straight anymore, it’s like this woman knew all your insecurities and tell you that you are right to have them.
What if she’s right? What if Alexia can’t stand your presence, your toxics dreams and mental health? You already knew that you weren’t good enough for her and that she deserved better. You can’t believe that you let her makes you believe that she can love you. How can she? How can anyone?
You were turning around to go home when you hear someone call your name.
“Y/N?”
You recognize Mariona through your tears, but you can’t say anything. She doesn’t seem to mind though, carefully taking your arm in her hand.
“What are you doing here? Are you looking for Alexia?”
You try to scream at her to let Alexia alone and not to get you to her, but you can’t. When you don’t say a word, Mariona decides to take you to Alexia. Luckily the Majorcan woman came late today and she knows exactly where to find your girlfriend.
You let Mariona drags you around, hearing her soothing voice without being able to understand what she’s saying. Sweets, encouraging words, for sur. You can’t figure out really what happens next, but after several minutes of walk, you hear Mariona calling your girlfriend’s name. And more seconds after, you are surrounded by her arms, her perfume, everything that is her.
Everything that you don’t deserve.
When Alexia realizes that she’s facing a wall and that you won’t say a word, she takes you home. You are like anesthetized at this point, letting her do what she wants with you. When you are laying on the bed you retake some reality and stare at Alexia who seems to be choosing clothes to put on you after taking a shower.
“I’m breaking up with you.”
The words were lifeless, but you see Alexia froze. She turns in your direction, with eyes wide and the most chocked face ever.
“What?”
“I’m breaking up with you” you repeat, looking at her straight in her eyes.
A silence pass and you see Alexia watching at you, probably waiting for you to say something else. Maybe to explain yourself, but you don’t say another word. Plus, the reasons are obvious, no?
“Are you- don’t you love me anymore?”
She seems broken. That doesn’t make any sense, she is supposed to be relieved, not sad. You don’t understand her reaction, so you shrug before answering.
“That’s not the point, Alexia. You are free. I’m giving you your liberty back.”
“What the hell are you talking about? Are you drunk? Did someone give you something to you?”
She seems angry now, almost shouting with her eyebrows frown. You frown too, because why the hell won’t she understand? You sit in the bed while she’s still standing in front of you.
“No! I just… Why won’t you…”
Why is your brain suddenly transformed in pudding?
You look at Alexia when she comes to you and takes your face between her hands. She does it with so much care that you want to cry again.
“Why don’t you let me break up with you?” you whisper.
“Because I love you. I told you; I’ll fight for us every day if I have to.”
There we are, you are crying again. But this time Alexia is here, she can take you against her, rock you will you cry and whispers sweets nothing in your ears. She waits for your sobbing to stop, holding you tightly. Only when you can breathe normally again, she speaks.
“What happened?” she asks softly.
You don’t know really where to start, so you just shake your head without answering anything. But she waits, again and again. So, after some minutes, you talk too.
“I just want you to be happy. I know you’ll be happier without me.”
“You are wrong.”
Her voice is gentle, but as the same time strong enough to let you know that you don’t have to try to deny it. It’s her truth and that’s enough.
“Well you need to take some time apart from me so it’s not –“
“Where the hell does that idea comes from?”
She’s lost. You were good when you end up your call some hours later. And then you appeared crying during her training, only to say her when you come home that you want to break up with her. But you frown again, lost too. And tired, to be honest.
“My therapist said that I’m leaning on you too much. And that’s way you wanted to go on holidays without me.”
You explain that like it’s the more logical thing in the world, but for Alexia it doesn’t make any sense. She starts to understand where it comes from however, even if she doesn’t understand why.
“I’m not going anywhere without you, what the point to have holidays if you’re not with me?” she answers, looking right into your eyes. “Did your therapist say other things?”
You nod and start to explain everything happened and everything she told you. The more you talk, the more Alexia seems to be furious. Her jaw is clenched, her eyes are literally throwing lightning and she so tense that you are really concerned that she can have a cramp somewhere. But when she talks to you again, her voice is infinitely soft.
“Nothing of that is true. I love you. I will do everything to help you to make you feel better. I’m not going to give up on you, Y/N. I’m not going to give up on us.”
You look at her, almost desperately. But she has the same gaze that she has when says things like this. Her eyes are soft, caring and so loving that you can’t do otherwise than believe her.
“I don’t feel like I’m better, Ale” you whisper. “I don’t think I will be one day.”
“You are. You are working, you are getting out, you are smiling again. It’s ok to have bad days, like everyone else. Yours are a little more complicated because you had to go through horrible things. But you have the right to not feel good or needing help a little more some days. And what she said was wrong.”
You are lost, honestly. Alexia can see that you are coming back at yourself again though. Like if you are waking up. You seem always a little desperate and she takes you carefully against her. You let her, sighing of relief when you find the comfort of her arms.
“What if she’s right and you haven’t realized for now?”
“She’s wrong. And she will know it.”
You don’t question what she was implying, too tired to realize what her words may imply. You let Alexia taking you in a bath and more generally taking care of you. You look at her through the mirror when she does your hair.
“When I get better, it will be me who will take care of you” you inform her.
She smiles and finish to undo a knot in your hair before answering, looking at you through the mirror too.
“Okay Cariño.”
She’s smiling but doesn’t seem to make fun of you. You relax, letting your shoulder go down a little bit. That’s mean that she really believes that you will be better.
********
Alexia keeps her promise, going to your therapist’s office in the early hours to talk to her. You don’t know what she told her, but now you don’t have to go to your appointments, and you even have a new psychiatrist, advised by someone from Alexia’s staff.
Rumor has it that Alexia’s shouts still resonate in the psychiatrist’s office.
You don’t know if it’s your breakdown of the change of therapist, but some days after this episode, you feel better than ever. You wake up with your head and your body feeling lighter and Alexia is surprised to see you coming in the kitchen when she’s taking her breakfast. Usually, you stay way longer in bed.
“Is everything alright?” she asks nervously.
You nod, rubbing your eyes before coming behind her to pass your arms around her waist.
“Just wanted to be with you a little bit before you leave.”
Alexia hums when you kiss her neck. You can feel a gaze studying you while you are making yourself coffee, before coming to sit next to her.
“Are you sure that you’re ok Cari?” she asks, almost shyly while you stole a strawberry from her bowl.
“I’m sure baby” you smile at her.
Alexia is looking at you suspiciously during several seconds. She red things about people being “high” before getting down and of course she is scared. But you seem really good today and she can’t help but smile when you kiss her cheek.
“Uhu” she said, taping her lips with expectation.
You giggle but kiss her anyway, smiling against her lips. You are still smiling when she strokes your cheek with her fingertips and when she puts her forehead against yours.
“I love you so much” she whispers before kissing you again.
“I love you more” you smiles.
Alexia makes no with her head and put a finger on your mouth when you want to talk again.
 “Would you like to come with me to training today?”
You hesitate for several seconds before answering. It’s been a while since you came to see Alexia in training. You can’t remember who you saw some days before, only Mariona. But you hope that they weren’t a lot.
“You can say no if you don’t want to.” Alexia adds after seeing you hesitate.
“No, I want to come. But… Who were here, the other day? You know…”
“Only Mariona. And I’m sure that she doesn’t say anything to anyone.”
You are relieved to learn that, even if you don’t know how Alexia can know.
“Did you treat her?” you smirk.
“No” Alexia laughs. “I know the girl, she’s one of the most loyal, sweet and discreet that I’ve never met.”
She was right. Mariona didn’t told anyone about what happened and after several minutes you realize that Alexia was right once again. You hug the Mallorcan woman a little longer than Alexia’s other teammates when you met them, silently thanking her. She seems to understand because she smiles at you before taping your cheek affectionately.
And today, as you watch Alexia training and laughing on the pitch with the teammates that she considered like her family, you’re starting to have hope again. Alexia was right every time, so maybe she will be right this time again. You will be better.
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crippled-peeper · 3 days
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I really used to love your blog, but you are being incredibly hostile to people who want to learn and you are assuming people mean to be malicious. As a disabled person, I totally get it. In a sense, pretty much anything that isn't a specifically disabled space (and even sometimes those as well) ARE hostile to disabled people and create tons of barriers that make it difficult just to survive and exist. I understand your frustration, I understand that it is something you desperately need to express. But at some point, it becomes better for you to let the opinions of others go or to try and shift your mindset that not everyone is out to attack you. By all means, block whoever you want to block, express yourself however you want to express yourself. But as a fellow disabled person, I no longer can relate to or find comfort in your posts. Most of which as of lately are FILLED with hostility and are incredibly defensive (which again, I TOTALLY understand.) I only send this ask to wish the best for you. I hope that you can find some place that feels safe, some place and people who accommodate and take care of you. I hope that you can believe in a future where people truly want to help and learn. And I hope that the hate in your heart does not continue to grow. Hating the world does not keep you safe from it. You do not need to bring hostility to the world, the way it seems to do for you. I wish for you to feel safe enough to have an open heart and find happiness as a disabled person.
Hey. I just want you to know that I don’t care like not even slightly. Please unfollow me, in fact block me. I have no patience for this manipulative bullshit.
I’m going to die some day (probably sooner rather than later) and I don’t exist to suck your toes and jack you off while you constantly question my humanity and my right to have the most basic human comforts
Maybe you should work on why you see other disabled human beings (who have feelings, btw!) as living Wikipedia pages who should calmly and joyously educate you while you say stupid shit to them, repeatedly, and without a single care about how it makes them feel.
I know you thought it would be, but my self worth is not located in the approval of random people who don’t even have the balls to come off anon and talk to me.
Farewell, bucko.
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bloatedandalone04 · 2 days
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Wrapped Around Your Finger - Part 1.5
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Series Masterlist | Original Fic
➪in which anakin and the guys are granted a break, but that still didn’t give him any hope that he could actually fix things between you and him - but that also didn’t stop him from trying.
PSA: strongly suggested to read the warnings before proceeding.
WC; 3.2k | Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡ | THANK YOU FOR 4.6K FOLLOWERS
Anakin was sitting quietly on the couch as he half listened to Theo and Helena talk at the table on the bus. 
They had been discussing something in hushed whispers for a while now, but Anakin still had no idea what they were talking about. He couldn’t focus on anything right now as he scrolled through the text thread he has with you, his expression one of misery and agony. 
He knew you were back in LA by now. You had to be. You were probably packing your things as he sits and lets his eyes flicker between his bandmate and manager. 
Anakin had left you so many messages by now, and you haven’t replied to a single one. He felt pathetic and worthless, and he hated himself. 
He dropped his phone with a huff, instead deciding to trace his index finger along your handwriting on his wrist. It can’t be over between the two of you. It just couldn’t be. You were everything to him, his entire world. How was he supposed to do this without you? 
“Helena, please, just a few weeks,” Theo begged, and Helena sighed as she rubbed her forehead harshly. “My sister just told me that our mom is getting worse. I can’t let her go through that by herself anymore. I can’t not be there for them anymore. Please.”
Anakin’s mood deteriorated further at his friend’s pleas, and he wished there was something he could do for Theo, but he can’t even fix his own mess. “I know, Theo, I know,” Helena mumbled, standing up and rummaging around in her bag. “I’ve been trying to get this thing pushed back ever since you know who decided to touch broody over there.”
The not so subtle dig had Anakin rolling his eyes and picking at the threads on the blanket he threw over his lap. “Well, can you?” Theo asked desperately. “Get it pushed back? Just a few weeks. I need to be there if my mom-” he cut himself off as he refused to say it out loud. 
Anakin felt tears prick at his eyes as he stared at the floor. His heart ached for Theo, and it ached even worse for you. How had things gotten this bad? Just to make things that much more tragic, it seems like Clara and Vinny’s relationship was on its way out, too. She had left last night on a flight back home, and Vinny hasn’t been out of bed ever since. 
Seriously, how the fuck had things gotten this bad?
Helena looked at Theo with poorly concealed pity, and she sighed as she ran her hands through her hair. “Okay, Liz’s contract will end soon, and I think I’ll be able to get the next few weeks pushed back, so she won’t be welcomed back on the tour once things go back to normal,” she started, sitting back down at the table and looking between Theo and Anakin. “So that might help fix his problem.”
She gestured over to Anakin, and he just scoffed, wondering why she was talking about him like he wasn’t sitting less than three feet from her. 
“I think I can have all of you on flights back home by the end of the week, I just need to make a few calls,” she stated and Anakin’s scowl disappeared almost instantly. 
“What?” He asked in disbelief as Theo made a beeline to his bunk to begin packing. “Really?”
Helena nodded, flipping through a notebook with various names and phone numbers in it. She was old fashioned that way, despite being not much older than Anakin. “Don’t quote me on that, but I think I can do it,” 
Anakin sprung up, the blanket falling to the floor as he pulled her out of the chair and wrapped his arms around her. “Thank you,” he rasped, aware that she might not be able to get the tour pushed back, but she was going to try, and that’s what counted. “I owe you. For everything.”
Helena huffed quietly, pulling away to look him in the eye. “We’re a team, Anakin. You guys are like my family at this point,” she murmured and Anakin felt more tears gather in his eyes. “You know I’ll try to do anything I can for you three.”
“I know,” he whispered, “Still, thank you.” 
The next morning, after Anakin got about an hour and a half of sleep, he was waiting anxiously to hear if Helena had managed to get the tour postponed. He was sure Theo had been up all night, too, if the way he couldn’t seem to get comfortable in his bunk across from Anakin’s was anything to go by. 
When she announced that she was able to push the tour back a few weeks, Anakin booked the first flight back to LA and had Theo beside him on the plane. Vinny was in no rush to go back, so he decided to stay behind for a few more days. 
Anakin had sent you a quick text before he boarded the plane, which read, 
I’m coming home. I’m going to fix everything, I promise, Princess. I love you so much. 
And when he got into an Uber after the flight, he saw that you had read his text, but didn’t reply. That was the first text of his that you had read, and as pathetic as it sounded, it gave him hope. 
Theo was in the car with him since they had decided to ride together. He lived a few minutes away from yours and Anakin’s apartment, so he would be dropped off after Anakin. He didn’t even care that Theo would involuntarily be listening to the voicemail Anakin is forced to leave you as you had once again ignored his call. “Baby, it’s me,” he started, glancing over at his friend and feeling grateful for the way Theo turned his body towards the window so Anakin could have at least a little bit of privacy in the car. “I’m ten minutes away from our place. I’m so sorry, for everything.”
He ended it after that, even though he had so much more to say. He wanted to save himself the embarrassment of pouring his heart out to you over the phone, just to have you delete it without even listening to it. 
When the car pulled up outside the apartment complex, Anakin reached over and hugged Theo. “I hope things get better for you and Mary and your mom,” he mumbled, hearing Theo sniff quietly in response as he tried to hold off tears. “Text me if you need anything, okay? I mean it.”
Theo nodded and pulled away. “Same to you,” he says with a forced smile. “Y/n will forgive you. You’ve been together for too long to just give up on it now.” 
Anakin returned a half smile, squeezing his friend’s shoulder before grabbing his bag and getting out of the car. He watched it pull away from the curb as his hand dug around in his bag for his keys, and he almost cried when he finally found them. He hadn’t used them in so long, and he was hit with the memory of the last time he was here. It was the day he left for the tour with you by his side. 
If he could go back and do it again but better, he would in a heartbeat. But he couldn’t. He just had to deal with the consequences now. 
Anakin blinked a few times as he entered the lobby and headed right over to the elevators, taking one all the way up to the fifteenth floor as he tried to think of what to say to you. 
Would you even be there? Did you read his last text and flee the second he got on that plane? God, he hoped not. 
He was a shaky, sweaty mess as he reached the floor you and he lived on, and his nerves were slowly taking over as he neared the door. Anakin couldn’t believe how nervous he was about entering his own apartment and facing you, the girl he’s loved for five years now. It had never been like that with you. Ever.
As he stuck the key in the lock and turned it, his heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest. He hadn’t seen you since that night in the dressing room nearly four days ago. He had so much to make up for, so much to apologize for, and he could only hope that you would listen.
When he pushed the door open and stepped inside the quiet apartment, his heart fell at how dark it was. He was sure you weren’t home and hadn’t been for a while, but then he heard some movement to his left, and he dropped his bag instantly and entered the living room. “Princess,” he whispered when he saw you sitting on the couch, your old Uni hoodie covering your upper half while a blanket covered the rest of you. 
Your hair was tied back and your eyes were sad and empty, and when you looked up at him, you dropped your phone onto your lap with a quiet huff. “Oh, you actually were ten minutes away,” you mumbled. “I thought you were lying.”
Anakin shook his head as he scanned the dark living room. It looked like you had been living in here since you got home. Water bottles, your mugs he teased you about on the day you moved in, and cracker boxes were scattered on the coffee table he and Vinny put together. “Why…why would I lie about that?” He rasped, stepping further into the room. “Why would I lie to you?”
You tore your eyes away from him and shrugged. “Because you’ve done it before,” you simply answered, looking back up at him with tears in your eyes. “You said you loved me. And that I was the person you wanted forever.”
“Baby,” he gasped and made it over to you in three strides. 
“Why are you home, Anakin?” You asked, making him stop a few centimeters away from the couch. And you. “Why are you here?”
Anakin felt hopeless and on edge. How was he supposed to fix this when he didn’t know where to start? “Because I love you. And I want you forever. Just you,” he answered. “I never lied about that.”
You bite down onto your lip and reach up to wipe at your eyes with your sleeves. “Um, Kenneth read my short story. I finished it on the flight back to London,” you tell him and he stood still, letting you say what you needed to. “He loved it. Um, he wants to get it published.”
“Y/n,” he said quietly, feeling so proud of you even though he was also feeling terrified. “That’s awesome, baby.”
You drop your hand onto your lap and look up at him with a heartbroken expression. “It’s about you,” you confess. “About us. About…how much I love you and…it’s our story, Anakin.”
Anakin’s shoulders dropped at that. You were so sweet and kind and too fucking good for him. He never deserved you. “Then publish it,” he mumbled, his own eyes welling up with tears. 
“I can’t,” you cry, covering your face with your hands. “It’s too much. It reminds me of us too much, and I don’t even know what we are anymore.”
He squeezed his eyes shut and dropped his head, unsure of what to say to that. How does he make this better? “I’m yours,” was all he could come up with. “Even if you’re not mine anymore.” 
Those words physically pained him to say, and they only made you more upset. “Fuck, Ani,” your voice broke as you called him the name he only ever let you call him. “Why are you back?”
Anakin cleared his throat and pressed the heel of his hand against his eyes. “Theo’s mom…she got worse and they don’t know if she’ll be okay or if she’ll make it,” he whispered, knowing that his friend wouldn’t be mad he told you that. Theo was your friend, too, after all. 
Your eyes widened at that and you sat up, sniffling as you began looking for your phone. “That’s…that..” you trailed off as you lifted the blanket and grabbed your phone. “I should call him. I should..call him and..” 
You were becoming less and less in control of yourself, and Anakin could see the way you were getting yourself worked up. “Hey,” he mumbled, grabbing your wrist as you started to stand up. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay.”
“It’s not,” you whispered and he saw tears roll down your face again. “Why wasn’t I good enough for you? What could I have done?”
A broken gasp left his lips and Anakin fell onto the couch next to you, pulling your body into his arms as you cried against his neck. “You’re enough,” he promised, cradling the back of your head and holding you tight. “You’re more than enough. Baby, you’re…you’re everything to me. My whole world. I’m so fucking sorry for what I did, for what I allowed to happen.”
You cried harder against him, bunching up the fabric of his shirt in your fists. 
“I should’ve been there for you. I should’ve been there to support you,” he mumbled against the top of your head. “I’m so proud of you, of everything you’ve done. I’m sorry if you feel like you can’t bring yourself to get your story published because of me. I don’t want you to hold yourself back because of me.”
You cling onto him and lift your head. “I don’t know what to do, Ani,” you sobbed. “Please, tell me what I should do. Please.”
He could see just how much you needed help, and how you needed to be guided right now. And he would help you for as long as you needed, even if it ended up with you kicking him out afterwards. “What will make you feel better? Do you want me to leave? I can give you some space or time or-”
“No, I don’t want that,” you shake your head and crawl onto his lap. 
“What do you want, princess?” He desperately asked. “What can I do?”
“I want things to go back to how they were,” you cried. “I want to feel like I did before when I look at you. It hurts, Ani. I can’t do this anymore.” 
Tears fell from his eyes and landed in your hair as he held you impossibly closer. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I love you. I’m sorry.”
You were shaking against him and he felt terrible. This was all his fault. “I want to hurt her,” you mumbled. “I hate her. I fucking hate her, Ani. I hate her for what she did to you.” 
“I hate her, too,” he pathetically agreed and you lift your head. 
“What are we going to do, Anakin?” 
He lifted his hand and smoothed out your messy hair, trailing his thumb down to your lip afterwards. “That depends,” he murmured. “Do you still want me? Could you ever forgive me?” 
You brace your hands on his shoulders and nod. “Maybe…eventually,” you answer. “I still want you.”
A breath of relief left his mouth, but he still wasn’t happy with himself. “I’m back home for a couple weeks, and I’m going to spend every single day making this up to you,” he promised. 
“Then you’re back on tour?” You quietly asked and looked down. “With her?”
“No,” he said quickly. “Helena said something about pressing charges before I came here, and I might go through with it. She won’t be there, I promise. She’ll never be around me or you or us again.” 
“Do it,” you encourage, grabbing the hair on the back of his neck with shaky fingers. “I don’t want her near you ever again. I hate her so much.”
“Yeah, I can tell,” his lips curved upwards just slightly as he gently massaged your hips. “That was quite the nose job you gave her.”
You laugh quietly, lifting your gaze to meet his. “I need to know that it was a mistake, Anakin,” you went back to being serious. “If you felt anything for her, even a little bit at all, I’m out.”
Anakin panicked and shook his head. “Never. I never felt anything for her,” he assured you. “She means nothing to me at all. You’re my girl, the one I want to be with for the rest of my life. I’ve known that since I was seventeen years old.”
You nod, trailing your fingers through his hair. “You promise?” You asked and he nodded instantly. “Okay…okay. Ani, these next couple weeks…I need this to be okay. Maybe not completely fixed, but…okay.”
“I’ll fix everything,” he swore, pulling you against his body again. “I promise you, I’m going to make everything okay again. I love you so much. I always will, you’re it for me. My one and only.”
You give him a small smile, tracing your fingers along his cheek before leaning up and kissing his jaw. “I love you,” 
Hearing you say that had his heart skipping a beat. “I’m so sorry. I’m going to fix this,”
Anakin kisses you all over your face before letting you sit in his lap for as long as you wanted to.
It wasn’t okay, what he did. He knew that. But he was going to make damn sure that he made everything right again. He had to.
-
Three weeks later…
Being back on stage after the brief break Anakin was given felt great. 
He loved being on stage, loved the lights and the screams of fans and the feeling he got from it all.
But it wasn’t what had him feeling so happy right now. 
Theo’s mom had pulled through and was getting better by the day, and was able to stay awake for most of the day now. When she regained control of her voice, she practically forced Theo to go back and finish the tour, and told him that she would be there when it was over. 
Vinny and Clara broke up, but are still friends, and Vinny decided to focus on music and the band. He had even started writing a few songs about the experience that he couldn’t wait to get out there. 
And as for Anakin, he was getting ready for a court date that was set for a few months from now. He did press charges against Liz, and though she claimed she was going to fight it, he knew he had a whole team behind him. There was no way she was winning this thing. 
And you. His sweet, beautiful and smart girlfriend. Well, he was gaining your trust back more and more as the days went on. You allowed Kenneth to send your story to his publisher, and it would be released by the end of the year. 
He was so proud of you, and when he began singing the first verse of Wrapped Around Your Finger, he glanced over to his right and saw you standing next to Helena backstage, a smile gracing your lips and the red rose he had given you before going on stage in your hand. He knew you were proud of him, too. 
And he knew things would be okay.
-
Goodbye, my Rockstar and Booknerd. Til we meet again.
Thank you to everyone who read and followed along with this series. I loved writing it so much ! And thank you to my sweets, @everydaydreamer for the original fic idea. Who would’ve thought we’d end up here?
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luvaurae · 3 days
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Simon “ghost” Riley x reader 🫶🏼
This is my first tumblr post, go easy on me 🙏 I’m not sure how it sounds or if I like it or not, sorry if there’s typos ‼️
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You and Simon had been together for about 6 months now. Normally Simon was deployed and sent away to work for 3-4 months (depending on the job.) which wasn’t the best. You always had to sit in your little yet cozy apartment without his presence, and sometimes when you needed him most, he wasn’t there. When you were in the shower, he wasn’t standing behind you with his arms wrapped around your waist. When you were in bed, he wasn’t spooning you and keeping you warm. When you cooked dinner, you had no one to serve it to except yourself. Obviously you loved him, but it was so hard to get up for your own work in the morning without him groaning and saying things like - “..five more minutes luv’ .” Or “.. jus’ call work n tell em ya sick, please dove?”. But you knew his job was important, and it helped the both of them with rent and food shopping.
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As you jangled your keys into your doorknob, trying your best to shove it in as your eyes fluttered open and shut. You had just been on a six-hour shift at work and felt as if you were going to pass out every time you moved any part of your body. Eventually you managed to open up your apartment door, shutting it and locking it behind you without even turning back. You dropped your bag to the floor next to your shoe rack before making your way into bed, taking off your coat as you do so. You awkwardly rub your eyes before hopping into bed with your work t-shirt and your panties, pulling the blanket up trying to find a comfortable position to sleep in. As soon as your head hits your pillow, you’re out cold. Snoring, not so quietly. You’re positive the whole of the building can hear it.
It was about 5:05pm.
You woke up to the sound of your door opening. It couldn’t be Simon, could it?.. he told you another week? He texted you and said specifically “captain said another week lovie, I’m sorry.” You shot up from your bed, not making a creak. You tiptoed into your closet, where a wooden bat had been lying against the wall (it was the one your dad gave you before you moved out.) you wrapped your hands around the handle as you opened your door, slowly yet carefully. Sweat building up within your palms, yet your grip on the bat extremely hard. You manage to tiptoe out of your room, the rest of your apartment still dark as you heard sounds coming from your kitchen. You gripped the bat with two hands before running into the kitchen and swinging it at the figures head, you told yourself you got a pretty good hit. Yet as the light from the refrigerator shines on the figure.. it was Simon. Of course it was.
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“I’m so sorry baby. I didn’t know it was you.” I say shakily pressing a cold freezer pack wrapped in a cloth onto Simon’s head as he rested on our bed.
“Don’t be sorry dove. At least I know ya know how to protect ya self’” Simon’s says in his deep British accent, giving off a small chuckle at the end. I felt horrible, yet at the same time proud. And honestly it felt a little good to get him back for not having much time to spend with me.
“How come your back so early? And why didn’t you text me?” I say pulling away the ice pack from his head and placing it on my side table as I now tuck myself beside him in our bed.
“I dunno, and I knew i shou’ve but I didn’t want to disturb my Angel in er’ beauty sleep.” Simon gives another chuckle. God sometimes I had forgotten how beautiful he was. I smile at him as my head rested against the pillow, now just staring at him as I take in his features. For a moment I was in my own world, just thinking about how gorgeous he was.
“I missed you.” I say in a slightly tired and grumbled voice as I snap out of my trance and close my eyes.
“I missed you too, luv.” Simon gives me a soft peck on my shoulder before turning off the lamp and spooning me, sliding his arm underneath mine and pulling me close to him so that his warmth radiated me.
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