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#and I was so shook because I had no idea that you're supposed to make gifts to give for the artists at EVERY show
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I fully get the anxiety of feeling like you don’t deserve to go to a show. It comes with the whole competetive fandom stuff.
Honestly, as someone who has performed on a lot of stages with varying kinds of crowds, the most important thing isn’t if you’re the biggest fan or if you know the lyrics or some choreography or bring gifts. The thing that is the most valuable is that you go to the show to have a good time. That’s all the artists are generally looking for. That people enjoy their music, enjoy the show, are excited to be there.
Some people may be disappointed that they don’t get a ticket, sure. But it’s not you taking that ticket away from them. Not everyone can have everything. Sometime people don’t get concert tickets. That is not your fault for buying. It is a thing that happens when everyone has the right to buy concert tickets instead of them being raffeled off or gifted. If the show was just for the biggest fans, tickets would be give out as competition prices, not to the person who buys them.
And there is no right way to enjoy the show. Some superfans never learn lyrics because they don’t particularly care. Some people buy tickets to go see random artists just for the experience. Some people just love to give gifts and find that to be the best way of interacting. Your way of doing it is just as valid as all that. You don’t have to earn any right to be there, that is what the tickets are for.
And honestly, you’d be surprised by the number of people who have never even heard of an artist or band who just show up for the show because they had a day off and it could be fun. It’s not about deserving to be there. It’s about wanting to go and getting the chance to actually do that.
I don’t know if this little pep talk eases your mind at all, but I hope it does. Learning to let go of the competetive mindset and attitude when it comes to regular life stuff is a chore and a half. I just want you to know that I would love for you to go to the show.
Thank you for reaching out. I really appreciate it ❤
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steddie-as-they-come · 6 months
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"Mom," Steve whispered in the inky blackness of his parents' room. "Mom, there's something under my bed."
Patricia Harrington turned over. "Steven, go back to sleep," she murmured.
"I can't." Steve said. "There's a monster."
"No such thing." his mom said, angrier, more awake. "Go to bed now, and if I catch you out of bed again you can forget going to Tommy's this weekend."
Steve nodded and padded back down the hall, pausing at his door then taking a running jump into bed.
The room was silent.
"I know you're here." Steve whispered, making sure all his limbs were tucked safely away under the covers. "You don't scare me."
A couple minutes of quiet, then Steve heard a scraping sound come from under his bed. He squeaked and pulled his blankets up to his nose.
A horrible, raspy laugh came from below him. "I do scare you!" said a voice. "You lied!"
"No-no you don't!" Steve said boldly. He clutched his blanket tighter, then said, "I can't be scared of something I can't see! That's just dumb."
Something dark began to slither across the floor out of the corner of Steve's eye. Oh, I'm gonna regret that, he thought.
The thing began to pull itself up, looming over Steve. It cracked a smile, and sharp white teeth gleamed in the light from his closet.
Steve screamed.
"Shut up!" his dad shouted angrily from downstairs, and Steve clapped a hand over his mouth, eyes flicking between the shadow and the door like he wasn't sure which monster to be more afraid of.
The monster crept toward him, and Steve dug his fingernails into his face, scooting away from the horror. He whimpered, not daring to close his eyes.
Then the monster began to shrink.
It shriveled away, changing color and backing up, until a little boy, about Steve's age, stood in front of him. He had long curly hair and was dressed in a t-shirt that was way too big on him. When he opened his eyes, Steve flinched, because the whites of his eyes simply...weren't there. His eyes were an onyx black.
"Hi," the boy said. "I'm Eddie."
Steve was too stunned to speak, but he did uncover his mouth.
"I'm the monster under your bed!" Eddie said. "I'm supposed to scare you, but, um-" he risked a quick look at the door "-I don't think you need my help for that."
"Why are you supposed to scare me?" Steve asked.
Eddie shrugged. "Dunno. Every kid's got one. It's just how it works. I was made to be your monster, forever!" He sat down on the edge Steve's bed, bumping Steve's shoulder against his. "Weird to be on this side of the bed. No dust bunnies or anything."
Steve giggled, forgetting his fear. "You're fun!"
Eddie grinned at him. "Thank you! None of the other monsters think my jokes are funny."
"So you have to scare me?" Steve asked. "But you're not scary. Not after talking to me."
Eddie paused. "Oh, right. I'm not supposed to talk to you. Um..."
"What if we just say you're scaring me?" Steve asked. "I'll pretend I'm really scared of the monster under my bed, and you pretend you scare me every single night. But really we're hanging out instead of scaring!"
"Ooh, I like that idea!" Eddie struck a dramatic pose. "I'll be the monster under your bed, but I'll be ready to protect you if you need it too!"
Steve stuck out his hand like he saw his dad do for business deals. "Deal?"
Eddie shook it. "Deal."
-
Steve sprinted through the forest, the kids hot on his heels. "There!" he shouted. "Everyone in!"
The kids bolted to the abandoned cabin, and Steve slammed the door shut. "Is there a bed in here?" he called. "A couch? A fridge?"
"Bed's in here!" Will yelled, and Steve followed his voice to the cluttered bedroom, complete with partially-caved-in bedframe. He gingerly took a seat on the mattress, cringing when it crackled. He did not need to know what was on this.
"Eddie?" he called, tapping on the flaky painted wood.
The shitheads crowded in, and Mike murmured. "What the fuck is he doing?"
Steve ignored him. "Eddie, come on, I need your help."
Something tall, dark, and lanky slid out from under the bed, and all the kids jumped back in fright, raising their various weapons. Steve leapt to get in front of them, raising his hands as a shield. "Chill! Calm down, this is Eddie!"
Eddie shrank into his human form, draping himself over Steve. "You had to summon me to the nastiest bed in Indiana? Really, Steve?"
Steve shrugged. "This was the closest one. We need your help, Eds."
"We?" He focused on the Party. "Well, these must be the infamous buttheads." Eddie slid into the shadows and reappeared behind the Party, inspecting them. "Dustin, Mike, Lucas, Will, El, Max, right?" he said, pointing at each one as he said their names.
"What the fuck are you?" Dustin asked.
Suddenly Eddie was under Steve's arm, wrapping a hand around his waist. "I'm Steve's monster under the bed." he said. "I'm just... friendlier with Steve than most of the monsters I work with."
Steve rolled his eyes. "You can tell him you're my boyfriend, they know I'm bi." He kissed Eddie on the cheek.
The kids all broke into gasps, except for Max, who fake gagged. "Don't be gross!" she yelled. "Demogorgon outside, remember?"
"Ah, right." Steve said. "Eds, can you-"
"On it." Eddie kissed Steve. "I'll be back."
The kids watched Eddie melt into shadows, then wheeled on Steve. "Steven Don't-Know-Your-Middle-Name Harrington," Dustin said. "You have a lot of explaining to do."
edit: i did not expect this response to the short little thing that took me 30 mins max at 2am!! i’m planning on rewriting it and turning it into a full length fic, so i’ll come back and edit this with the link!
edit #2: if there’s anything you guys want to see in the full length version of this please let me know!! i’m trying my best to make it a slowburn which is horrid for my adhd so let me know if there’s anything you want!!
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mypoisonedvine · 9 months
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"𝙄 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙝𝙞𝙢 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙚𝙚 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙄'𝙢 𝙜𝙤𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤 𝙙𝙤 𝙩𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪." | dark!jackson rippner x reader
(I'm sorry but also no I'm not because wes craven knew exactly what he was doing when he put that line in the movie... he fucking knew...)
𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 | after following you for weeks as part of his job, jackson got a few ideas in his head about making you his, but finding out you had a boyfriend meant he needed to change his approach.
𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 | just under 9k (wow what the actual fuck)
𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 | DARK NONCON SMUT (18+ only, don't keep reading if you're not physically or emotionally mature enough to manage your own content consumption please and thank you), knife kink, stalking, forced exhibitionism, forced infidelity, humiliation, vaginal and anal sex (whoops), pain kink/painal, ass to pussy (god this fic is disgusting lmao), hair pulling, brief breeding kink/forced breeding, some angst but really it's just filth
once again, this is a dark character being dark and I don't wanna hear y'all acting brand new about it so no hate please. that said, if you do enjoy this (which I very much hope you do) please consider reblogging to support my work :) comments are especially appreciated and literally make me so so happy!!
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Following you was just part of the job— and Jackson did not like his job mixing with his personal life.
The problem was, he hadn’t had much of a personal life lately.  No time for it; one or two hook-ups, women he met in bars, but that’s it.  And believe it or not, he wanted more than that.  Nobody would accuse Jackson of being sentimental— not really an attitude you can have when you organize illegal weapons sales and political assassinations— but he wasn’t made of stone.  He wanted to be able to share at least part of his life with someone… or, you know, have a nice set of legs waiting for him at home that he could get between every night.  Either, or both, would do.
It was an unfortunate coincidence that his realization that he wanted a girlfriend, or at the very least a plaything of his own, came right around the same time that he started to follow you.  He was only doing it to pick up on your habits, figure out a way to get to you so he could blackmail you into being his inside man for his next job.  It was supposed to be pretty simple: you were a museum events coordinator in charge of an upcoming lecture series which would feature a speech from a Bolivian presidential candidate who was unfortunately unfriendly to cartels.  The American government not only endorsed him, but had him under incredibly tight security.  This speaking event was going to be a rare chance to get to him in a public space without metal detectors, and Jackson was being compensated generously to ensure your museum would let a few extra attendees in the back.
But see, the Bolivian presidential election was the last thing on Jackson’s mind as he watched you through your window.  His eyes drifted all over you, mesmerized by the way you prepared yourself for your day— styling your hair in the mirror, smoothing the wrinkles in your white button-up, pulling those stockings up your thighs…
He caught himself biting his lip and shook it off, straightening up in the driver’s seat of his car; he knew he should probably leave then, beat you to your work and then wander into the museum to feign interest in a few artifacts before striking up a conversation.  But he loitered a bit longer, letting himself imagine how quickly he could rip off those clothes you were so thoughtfully dressing yourself with.
Eventually, he managed to pull his attention away from you and start the car, sighing as he tried to remember his plan of attack for ‘accidentally’ meeting you later today.
~
The museum might’ve been interesting, if he wasn’t so distracted by you.  He was loitering, hands in his pockets, pretending to look at the paintings and artifacts as he waited for you to be near enough to strike up an innocuous conversation with.  Early in the day, he saw you give a tour to a couple considering the museum for a wedding location, but kept his distance— it could be a while before you were available and he didn't want you to notice him yet, or he'd have to justify having been in the museum all day by himself.
For the first time since he’d started this job, Jackson felt slightly nervous to speak to you.  It was always a big step, going from following someone to actually approaching them, but usually it didn’t give him any specific emotional reaction.  Sure, he might feel a certain amount of pressure to do this correctly lest he blow the whole thing by tipping off his target, but he never was worried something would go wrong.  This time, though, he felt his heart picking up every time he glanced at you from across the museum, closer to you than he’d ever been.  His palms were even a bit clammy when he saw you walk by and realized this was the moment he needed to strike.  God, did he really have a crush?  How pathetic… but he couldn’t worry about that now, he was about to lose his chance as you brushed by him quickly.
"Miss?" he got your attention, gently touching your shoulder through your shirt as you passed by; you seemed a little startled by the physicality, yes, but not exactly offended.
"Oh, um— can I help you?" you said.  He’d heard you speak before, on the wiretap and all, but it was a little different in person like this— and directed at him.
"I was gonna ask you about this sculpture, if you didn't mind," he explained with a gentle smile.
"Oh, well, one of our dosants would love to talk to you about our collection—" you began, starting to look for the closest staff member designated to help him, but he interrupted.
"So, you don't know anything about the stuff here?"
Your attention moved back to him and you smiled to hide your obvious defensiveness. "No, I do," you assured, "I actually am uniquely equipped to tell you about this sculpture: I studied Incan art specifically during my master's program."
He gave his best 'quietly impressed' face and nodded; he knew he could get you with that, you had kind of a know-it-all thing going on, which he happened to find annoyingly attractive.  "Alright, then tell me about it," he challenged.
"Well," you sighed, crossing your arms as you looked at the piece, "we got this one a few years ago, it's actually a ceremonial vessel— there’s the llama head and the bird on this side here, those were both animals with a lot of cultural significance…”
As you pointed out elements of the vessel, he leaned in ostensibly to look at where you were gesturing— but it was all an excuse to get close to you, warm you up to him.
“They would’ve used this to pour essentially a form of beer on the ground,” you continued, “in hopes of increasing the strength of the crops and fertility."
"Fascinating," he smiled at you, and you didn’t back away when he stood closer.  Like fish in a barrel.  "How old is it?"
"It's estimated to be about four or five hundred years old,” you explained.
"Wow," he nodded, looking at the stone carving behind the glass again.  "It's interesting to me that humans have always made art— and always been superstitious.  Though I have to be honest, if I was living before the invention of birth control I don't think I'd be praying for fertility."
You smirked a little, and he hoped he hadn't gone too far— but it was fun to look at you and know what you must be thinking about.  He could only hope that you were thinking about it with him in mind.
“Jackson, by the way,” he introduced himself, “my name’s Jackson.  It feels unfair that you’ve gotta wear the nametag and I get to be anonymous.”
You laughed a little, glancing down at the silver nametag on your blazer and then back up at him.  “Fair enough; welcome to our museum, Jackson.”
“So, wait,” he tilted his head, “forgive the late reaction here, but— if you’ve got a master’s degree of that caliber, how’d you end up as an event planner?”
“Well, believe it or not, the position does require historical knowledge,” you explained.  “I started in curation, though— just moved to events because I was too cooped up in the back offices… I like meeting new people.”
Although Jackson would never consider himself particularly empathetic, he did think he had a decent sense of people— specifically, when they were lying.  And that felt like a lie— a white lie, maybe, but still.  A lie you were telling yourself most of all, that this was what you wanted to do.  And it wasn’t that he really thought you disliked your job, moreso that his two weeks of following you did not indicate you harbored a strong desire to meet new people.  You were a total homebody: rejecting offers to go out for drinks or dinner from friends and coworkers, staying up late watching TV instead of hitting the town or something, shrinking into your room every night and staying there until it was time to go to work again.  He’d only seen you leave your house once that first weekend, and it was to pick up groceries— that’s it.  No hot date, no concerts… almost no social life at all.  Either you stayed late at the museum, or you went home.
And he also found that annoyingly attractive.  Jackson, after all, was a workaholic himself; he imagined he would go out and do fun things, if he had the time, but right now nothing sounded better than going home and cuddling up with a sweet girl like you, being lazy couch potatoes together, resting after a long day of espionage, cyberterrorism, actual terrorism, and whatever else his work day got him up to.
….Jesus, when did he get so goddamn sentimental?!
“It certainly seems like a unique job,” Jackson replied. 
“Every day’s a little different,” you agreed.
“Sounds like my job,” he snorted, “but I don’t work with other people much— I think it would be more entertaining with other people around.  Especially when they can tell me everything there is to know about Incan art.”
“Okay, I don’t know everything,” you backpedaled, not seeming to really notice the larger sentiment of his statement, “but I can certainly hold my own.  I like to think we all have something we know a little too much about, and could ramble for ages about.”
“Yeah, I hope so, or we’re just weirdos,” he chuckled.  “For me it’s probably cocktails.  I’m not an alcoholic or anything— I actually don’t drink that much, just socially, you know— but I have this thing where I can guess anybody’s favorite drink order.”
“Oh?” you raised an eyebrow.
“Yeah,” he smirked, “but hold on, I can’t guess yours until I really get the vibes.”
“Oh,” you nodded, “yeah— vibes, sure.”
“Hmm,” he pondered, narrowing his eyes as he looked you up and down, biting his lip like he was really thinking about it.
Here was the hard part: he really hadn’t seen you go out for drinks this whole time, so he was actually going to have to guess.  Of course, the fun part of this game was not actually getting it right— if anything, it worked better when he got corrected.  All he really needed was to get you alone long enough to tell you who he really was, what he needed from you, and how he was going to motivate you to do it… but if he could actually seduce you first, that would be a hell of a bonus.
“I’m thinking something a little sweet, not too fruity though,” he thought aloud, “something classic— you have an old soul, I think.”
You seemed to be a little surprised by that analysis, but he figured that meant he was mostly right.
“Your cocktail of choice is, obviously, a sidecar,” he announced.
For a second, he thought he might have got it from the way you smiled, but then you started to laugh.  “You were on the right track,” you admitted.
“Damn,” he snapped his fingers in playful frustration.  After a pause, he realized, “you’re not gonna tell me?”
“I figured I’d give you another guess,” you explained.
“Or,” Jackson countered, “I could take you out tonight, and you could show me yourself.  Your drink order, I mean.”
Alright, that was forward, but he figured he’d been doing well so far.  Instead, though, you tensed up a bit, causing Jackson to knit his eyebrows together for a moment.  “I would, really, but, I have plans tonight… with my boyfriend,” you said.
He swallowed behind a barely-suppressed frown.  Following you for all this time and he hadn’t noticed any boyfriend; were you lying just to get him to back off?  You’d seemed so flattered before.  “Oh?” Jackson tried to get out in his most neutral voice.  “That’s great— is he taking you somewhere nice?
“Even better,” you blinked quickly, a shy smile lifting your face.  “He works here at the museum, but he’s been gone almost an entire month to pick up some artifacts from around Eastern Europe… hasn’t even been able to use a phone out there.  So he’s promised to come over and give me a first look at everything he got, and apparently he’s brought something just for me, so…”
“That’s sweet,” Jackson replied, willing his nostrils not to twitch.  “Nice to know he was thinking of you all the way over there.  I travel a lot for my work, actually, and it’s… hard to find somebody loyal these days.”
You nodded in agreement, sighing slightly.  “Yeah, it is.”
“I mean, gone for a month, no communication, no reminders of you— just out there surrounded by opportunities and nothing keeping him from them,” Jackson went on.  “That’s a lot to get through without at least one drunken encounter.”
You furrowed your brow, looking at him with a sort of grimace.  “I… I guess,” you mumbled in reply.  “I do have a lot of work to get done so I think I’ll just let you explore,” you decided.
“What if I have more questions about the pieces?” he asked.
“Try reading the little plaque underneath it,” you suggested flatly, already turning and walking away.
Jackson watched to leave for a second before scoffing to himself.  Bitch.  But it didn’t make a difference anyways: one way or another, he was going to get to you— for the sake of the job, of course.  Although this boyfriend character was certainly a spanner in the works of his secondary plan to get you in bed, Jackson had to admit that he was ultimately an advantage for his actual purpose with you: an attachment, something he could exploit to get what he wanted.  Do what I say, or he gets hurt.
Of course, he knew he should use that to make you be his inside man for that stupid lecture series— he wasn’t going to get the second half of his payoff until the cartel had their chance to make an example out of the visiting politician.  But, as a small smile crept over his face while he walked out of the museum, he realized that he could use his leverage for so much more than that.
~
The door was unlocked when you got home; beaming, you realized it meant that your boyfriend beat you here, and was likely waiting for you just around the corner.
“Babe?” you called out, shutting the door behind you and shirking your purse and blazer to set down on the wooden credenza.
And yes, he was waiting for you around the corner alright, but you gasped in shock and felt your stomach sink when you saw him.  He was bound to a chair with zipties, restrained at his wrists and ankles with tape over his mouth, looking a bit roughed up and absolutely terrified.
“Oh my god!” you gasped, running to him, but he oddly seemed to pull away from you as much as he could when you tried to break one of the ties.  “What the fuck, what’s— oh my god, are you—?” you rushed, not even knowing where to start and just focusing on freeing him.  But he just kept letting out muffled grunts and shaking his head— like he didn’t want you to keep going.  Of course, you’d been so shocked by it that you hadn’t even considered why he looked so scared, why he seemed to want you to get away from him: whoever did this was still in the house.
It seemed obvious in retrospect, but it was too late now; you screamed when someone grabbed you, but the sound was muted by a hand over your mouth.  “Shh,” a voice beside your ear soothed as a blade pressed to your neck.  “Nobody’s going to get hurt if you behave.”
Your boyfriend hung his head defeatedly, and you thought you heard the sound of him crying though it was hard to tell.
“You missed him quite a lot, didn’t you?” the man asked, and you wrinkled your brows together as you wondered how he could’ve known that he was gone for a while.  “Left you all alone here, poor thing— probably got all worked up, lonely, needy… like three nights ago, when I saw you through your bedroom window, touching yourself."
Your face burned with humiliation— not even that he saw you doing that, really, but just knowing he'd been watching you for god-knows how long.  That made you feel more violated than anything.
“Wanted to help you so bad,” he purred, “but I had to wait.  I’m not waiting anymore— you’ve got me feeling pretty fucking impatient these days.”
You kept thinking about what you could do to get him away from you— his feet were just behind yours, you could stomp on his shoe and hope it hurt enough to distract him, or maybe you could wrench your elbow back into his side— but with the knife at your throat, you were afraid that he’d be faster than you if you tried anything.  “Please just— don’t hurt me, please,” you begged, whimpering a little, not sure what else to say at a time like this.
“Oh, honey,” he cooed, “you sound so sweet when you’re scared.”
It was the way he said that word: sweet.  It reminded you of before, something you’d done your best to forget about all day.  Something a little sweet, not too fruity— that weird guy at the museum, he’d said it just like that.  “Oh my god,” you breathed, “it’s— it’s you.”
“You remember my name, don’t you?” he smiled.
“Jackson,” you recalled, “you— oh my god—”
“I’m sure you’re a little relieved,” he chuckled, addressing your boyfriend with a grin as you turned your head enough to look up at his semi-familiar face.  “She was so into me when we met today at the museum,” Jackson informed him proudly.  “You wanted me to fuck you then, didn’t you, baby?”
“No I fucking di—” you began to deny with a sneer, but he quieted you with a finger over your mouth— of course, a finger from the hand still holding the knife, to remind you exactly why you should stop talking.
“Now, try anything, I might just have to hurt you— or, better yet, your shitstain boyfriend over there,” Jackson warned.  “I’m just waiting for an excuse to break a few of his fingers.  Don’t give me one.”
Swallowing, you shut your eyes for a longer moment— you couldn’t believe this was actually happening, like one of those horrific news articles you read before bed just to torture yourself.  Like one of those horror movies guys think are campy and fun but give you the most awful sick feeling because that could really happen.  And now it was really happening, and your first thought was somehow to wonder what you did wrong to let this happen.
“So, are you gonna be a good girl for me?” he asked, tilting his head down to look at you questioningly.
You nodded, but he wasn’t satisfied.
“Say it.”
“Yes,” you answered quickly, and he snarled with frustration.
“No, baby, say it like I said it,” he insisted, his tone a warning not to test him again.
“I’m gonna be… I’m gonna be a good girl…” you choked out.
“Whose good girl?” he taunted, and you groaned as you shut your eyes, feeling him pull you closer to him and press his face close to yours.
“Yours!  Your good girl,” you spat out, breath picking up as you heard him purr against your cheek.  “Jackson— please, you don’t… you don’t have to do this.  Please don’t do this.”
You shivered as the knife pressed against you again and moved from your neck down to your shirt, gently slicing off the top button and exposing a little more of your chest.  “Mm, but I want to,” he explained, “wanted you since I first saw you.”
You hated the realization that he likely first saw you quite some time ago, before you ever knew he existed, and that he’d been waiting for this ever since then.
“I think it turns you on, knowing I can do whatever I want to you,” he presumed, cutting off a second button from your shirt.
“Please just go,” you begged, starting to properly cry as his teeth grazed your neck.  “You’re right— you can do whatever you want.  I can’t stop you.  Isn’t that what you wanted to prove?  Just… just don’t make me—”
“Make you?” he repeated.  “No, no— you wanted me.  I could tell.  Only thing stopping you was him.”
He pointed towards your boyfriend with the knife in his hand, who looked devastated and horrified to say the least.
“You could do better, by the way,” Jackson informed you.  “You should be with somebody who can really treat you right.”
Another button fell to the floor; your bra was visible now, baby pink lace, and your nipples hardened from the cool air on your skin— that, and the way Jackson’s breath fanned across the nape of your neck.  
“Are you getting wet for me, baby?” he whispered to you as his knife trailed delicately over your skin, tracing the curve of your breasts.  “Think it’s time for me to finally give you what you need?”
You took a deep, but shaky, breath as you tried to put on a brave face and brace for what was to come.  “My… my bedroom is upstairs,” you whispered, and Jackson laughed in a way that made your skin crawl.
“Oh, eager already,” he taunted.
“I just wanna get this over with,” you insisted.
“Sure,” he said facetiously with a mischievous smirk and a wink to match; you felt like you were gonna be sick.  “But bedrooms are a little, you know… basic?  That’s probably what you’re used to, real traditional stuff: missionary, in the bed, in the dark, for a few minutes on weekends only.  That’s the vibe I’m getting, at least.  You’re not used to being with somebody romantic— you know, spontaneous.”
He turned you around to face him, making you yelp a little as he spoke by your ear.  
“Somebody who just has to have you; right here, right now,” he cooed, running his tongue along the outside of your ear before suddenly kissing roughly along your neck.
“N-no, please,” you begged, imagining the humiliation you were in store for if he really did fuck you on your living room floor in front of the man you loved.  “Please, I— I said I’ll be good for you, just— take me to my room, please.”
"No, baby,” Jackson purred as he held your chin, “let’s show your little boyfriend here what you look like when a real man fucks you, huh?"
Whining, you jerked your arms forward to try to break away, but it only ensured the bruises his fingers would leave on your skin.
A second later, you were shoved to the ground, and he was on top of you wearing a wide grin.  You could hear your boyfriend kicking and screaming in the corner, but your attention was more focused on Jackson starting to open his belt.  
"Fuck! Get the fuck off of me!" you yelped, kicking and shoving as hard as you could and finding each one more helpless than the last. "You— you fucking piece of shit!"
He smacked you across the face only to pull it back harshly by the jaw, glaring into your eyes. "Better be careful with that dirty mouth," he warned, shoving two fingers between your lips until you gagged on them. "Don't need to wash that out with soap, do we?"
As you choked, you shook your head, hoping it would be enough of an apology to get you some air.
"How about come?" he joked, making you gag for more than one reason, and he laughed at the tears that rolled down your temples.
He took his fingers out of your mouth and reached down to his fly again, letting out a small satisfied sigh as he freed himself.  You sobbed a little when you accidentally caught a glimpse of his erection in his hand; he grunted when you tried to push him off again, and responded by grabbing both your wrists and pinning them down above your head.  He hummed as he stroked himself a bit, looking down at you trapped under him.
“Thought you said you were gonna be good for me,” he recalled, chuckling when you bit your shaking lip.  “You sure you don’t need me to hurt Romeo over there, give you a little motivation?”
You shook your head.  “No— I’m sorry, I’ll do what you say.  Don’t hurt him.”
“Open your legs,” he ordered.  
Hesitantly, you lifted your legs up a bit and spread them, cringing at the happy groan you heard when your skirt started to roll up your thighs.  
“Don’t move your hands,” he warned before he let go of them, leaning back and looking down at you: spread out under him, his for the taking.
He snapped off the last few buttons of your shirt, humming when your torso was exposed further.  His hand started at your neck and ran down to grope your chest through the lacy bra; he purred, pinching your hardened nipples until you were forced to react.
Pulling it down, he took a quick breath at the sight of your bare tits— his chest rising and falling— and he set his knife aside to knead them both with a hum.  "Been thinking about these for a while…" he mumbled.  You gasped when he leaned down and captured a nipple in his mouth, suckling with a wide mouth as you scrunched your nose and looked away.  Still, it made your insides pulse when he swirled his tongue around, only to pop off a second later and move to the other.  "Damn," he breathed, leaning back again to move his attention lower.
Starting at your knees, he rubbed your legs carefully, moving a little higher every time until he was gripping needily at your thighs; his own breathing was a little faster as he did it.  
You hadn't exactly imagined how this would be, obviously, but you still were surprised at how long he was taking.  Was he just trying to build up the anticipation to scare you?  Or was it for his own benefit?
He was gentle for just a few seconds before suddenly flaring his nostrils and ripping your stockings open.  Through the new hole in the fabric, he rubbed your panties and you bit down on your tongue to avoid crying any harder.  
“Fuck,” he breathed, then laughed, as he pet your cunt through the lace— they matched your bra, of course.  Your boyfriend was coming back from a long trip, you’d wanted to do something nice for him… that idea backfired completely.  “All dressed up, matching and everything… you’re too good to me, babydoll.”
You were about to correct him, make sure both of them knew that this had nothing to do with Jackson, but your open mouth only let out a gasp when Jackson pulled your panties aside to touch you.
“Oh, baby,” he groaned when he slid two fingers between your lips.  “So wet.  Fuck.  When’d you get like that, huh?  Hmm, it was the knife, wasn’t it?”
He looked over at your boyfriend and gave him a terribly smug look while he slipped a finger inside your hole.
“Women like a sense of danger,” he informed the tied man flatly.  “But… I think your girl likes it even more than most.”
You flexed on his finger, turning his attention back to you, and he licked his lips as he slipped another finger in until you winced.
“That’s too much for you already, baby?” he noticed.  “Fuck, I might break you…”
He curled the fingers inside you, clearly trying to get you warmed up for him, and you shut your eyes tight in hopes your face wouldn’t show any reaction.  There was a sense of relief when he stopped and pulled his fingers out, but it didn’t last long since the next thing he did was grab your jaw and press those fingers to your lips. 
“Ever tasted yourself before?” he asked, and you tried to turn your face away but it was useless.  “Come on, it’s good, I’ll show you.”
He licked his own fingers first, moaning in satisfaction as he did it.
“Fuck, it’s sweet,” he promised.  “Now you try it.”
This time, when he put his fingers to your mouth, you opened it and let him push them inside.  He slid them over your tongue, watching you with dark eyes.
“Suck them,” he instructed you quietly, almost a whisper, and though your cheeks burned you wrapped your lips around his fingers and hollowed your cheeks.  “Mm, that’s it— see, you can be a good girl.  Knew you could.”
You were panting a little, for some reason, when he took his fingers away, leaving your mouth slack and wet.  He brought his hands down to his fly to finish freeing his cock, and you looked up, to the side, basically anywhere but at… that.
“Look at it,” he encouraged you, and you shook your head.  “Don’t you wanna see it before I put it inside you?”
You figured you could get him to shut up if you just did it, so you went ahead and took a glance down at his erection in his hand, only for a terrified whimper to catch in your throat.
“I can tell what you’re thinking,” he grinned.  “Trying to remember the last time you had a dick this big, right?”
Trying to figure out how that’s supposed to fit.
“Get on your hands and knees for me,” he demanded suddenly, sitting back enough to get you room to do it.
You hesitated, and he suddenly looked angry as he grabbed your wrist and yanked you up a bit until you yelped.
“Go on!  Hands and fucking knees, did I stutter?” he ordered, louder.
You were a little sore and weak all over, and it became even more apparent when you awkwardly got up off the floor; you avoided your boyfriend’s gaze as you took the position, opting to just stare down at the rug under you instead, suddenly fascinated by every detail in hopes it could somehow distract you from this.  From the feeling of him delicately pushing your skirt up over your ass and his hands all over you, from the way he pushed your knees apart with his own and settled between them, from the sick drop in your stomach as his cock’s head rubbed over your clit and lined up to your opening.  Yes, it sure was a riveting pattern on this rug alright…
But, of course, Jackson wouldn’t let you get through this that easily. “Beg for it,” you heard his firm voice from behind you.
“Jackson, come on, I—” you choked, “I— just—”
“It’s okay, babydoll, go on…” he egged you on, as if shyness was the reason you were hesitating.
“Please…” you began, shutting your eyes tightly.  “Please fuck me.”
You tried not to react too much when he pushed inside, but it was big, and he himself let out a husky groan at the feeling as he filled you.  You managed to stay silent at first, but a little squeak came out halfway through, and it turned into a loud sigh when he was all the way inside.  “Fuck,” he breathed, dropping his head back with a breathy laugh.  “Fuck, it’s tight.  Guess that’s what happens when nobody’s here to treat you right— and I don’t just mean because he was out of town.  I can tell nobody’s given you what you need in a long time…”
Before you could wonder what could possibly make him capable of telling that, he took a tight hold of your hips and began to fuck you— slower than you expected, but not quite delicate.
Shaking, you tried to keep yourself propped up on your wobbly arms as he set his pace, and tried to keep yourself quiet while he did this.  The last thing he needed was any more reasons to think you liked this.
Still, you couldn’t fight the whimper that came when he suddenly slammed himself into you, rougher than before; your thighs even quivered for a moment.  “Fuck,” you choked out, under your breath, and he hummed back at you as he sped up a little.
“Not too deep, is it?” he asked, though it didn’t seem like he was actually concerned for your well-being (obviously).  “Not used to anything this big, huh?”
You were afraid he was going to force you to answer that, but instead he surprised you by putting a hand between your shoulder blades and shoving you down; you gasped and grunted when your chest pressed to the floor, your face thankfully turned to the side against the rug— but unfortunately, it meant you were looking right at your boyfriend.  You had to shut your eyes, too ashamed that he was seeing you like this.
“There, you like that better?” he purred as he held your hips up against his, but the new angle only forced him deeper until you were choking on nothing with every thrust.  Your hands searched wildly along the floor for something to hold onto, but eventually just had to settle for gripping the rug for dear life.  “Mm, fuck, s’good— you feel so fucking good, baby…”
The compliment sent an unwilling shiver up your spine, and your back arched even deeper than he’d forced it to.  It was too much, it was all far too much, but your toes were curling inside your (ruined) pantyhose and you bit down on your lip without thinking about it.
“Oh, see how much she likes it?” Jackson grunted, apparently still addressing the captive boyfriend in the chair— you really wished he would just leave him out of this.  “Fuck, what a pretty little whore…”
Not only could he switch from sickly-sweet to rageful in a moment, but you realized that he could somehow seem to be both at once.  Still spitting out praises and insults all at one, he fucked you rougher and meaner as your moans— pain or pleasure, you couldn’t tell anymore and you didn’t want to— grew louder.  He kept getting more aggressive— harder and faster, harder and faster— until you were all but screaming and you couldn’t keep your hips up anymore.  Each thrust pushed you down until you were flat against the floor, but he kept fucking you and holding the back of your neck.  One thrust seemed to go too deep suddenly, and you yelped as you reached back to try to grab his thigh out of instinct.
“Shh, shh, s’okay, baby,” he assured with a hiss.  “Fuck.”
But he kept doing it, kept fucking you deep (if a little slower) as you whined and shook under him.  “Jackson,” you heard yourself breathe, “please— I-I can’t—”
“God,” he growled, “say my name again.  That’s so hot.”
You hadn’t meant it like that, but now it was too late.  “N-no,” you tried to deny, but that didn’t last long as he grabbed you by the hair and forced your head up, laying over you enough to speak right against your ear.
“Say. My fucking. Name,” he spat.
“Jackson,” you choked out against the strain on your throat from having your neck cranked back like this.  “Jackson, f-fuck—”
He groaned and dropped your head, propping himself up so he could fuck you faster again; his gaze moved down to where his body filled yours, where each thrust made your ass bounce under torn pantyhose…
As he slowed down for a moment, panting, you wondered if maybe it was almost over— maybe it already was, but that seemed too good to be true. He was still holding you down just as hard, anyway; he put his whole weight on your arms as he turned to look at your boyfriend tied up in the chair. 
"Does she do anal?" Jackson asked him point-blank.
Your struggle renewed as you screamed angrily— but you couldn't keep it up, it fell into a helpless sob a moment later. Your boyfriend didn't give much of an answer— couldn't, really, on account of the duct tape— just kicked around against his restraints again.
Jackson shrugged as he looked down at you crying under him. "Well, you do now," he decided, pulling out and spitting into his hand.
You’d never felt so helpless, laying there on the floor while he pushed his fat tip up to your puckered hole.  “Please,” you begged for mercy, but you didn’t even have the energy to lift your head from the rug and it was all muffled and pathetic.
“It’s really not that bad,” he insisted as he started to press forward, but your whole body jumped and you let out a loud whine when his head slipped inside with a sort of pop— all that pressure giving way to a sick, stinging stretch.
“Oh my god oh my god,” you whimpered, feeling goosebumps break out all over your body from the sharp pain.  “I can’t— please, I really can’t—”
“Shh, it’s okay, I’m gonna go real slow,” he promised under his breath, moaning loudly as he pushed in a little deeper.  Laying on the floor like this, there was really nowhere for you to go, no way to run from the feeling.  “Just breathe, long slow breaths— focus on staying relaxed.”
Frustratingly, it was actually pretty good advice; it certainly didn’t make it painless, but when you shut your eyes and thought as much about breathing and as little about anything else as you could, it helped.
“See?  Just relax, babydoll,” he whispered, but relaxing could only do so much as he slid the rest of the way in and you felt like your whole body might go numb.  Your eyes rolled back, your insides (all of them, it seemed) flexed, your heart was pounding… you felt sick, and disgusting, and used.
He breathed heavy as he laid his weight on top of you, slipping an arm under you to wrap around your shoulders and neck. 
"Fuck, that's a tight fuckin' ass," he grunted, laughing a little as he glanced at your boyfriend, slowly beginning to move again. "This one's got you spoiled, huh? How'd a loser like you get your hands on a perfect fucktoy like this?"
He bit down on the shell of your ear as he picked up his pace quickly— way too quickly— and soon he was growling each time he slammed his hips against your ass.  You couldn’t even tell what noises you were making anymore…
"But you're gonna be mine now," he whispered to you. "Oh fuck, s'all gonna be mine. Gonna fill these pretty holes of yours every fuckin' day."
You dropped your head down defeatedly onto the floor, though shocks of pain were still making your fingers and toes curl while he roughly fucked your other hole.
“Yeah, fuck, you fuckin’ like it,” he snarled as he fucked you faster.  “Needy little slut.  You like getting all your holes filled, huh?”
You simply bit down on your lip, not realizing it wasn't a rhetorical question.
"Answer me," he insisted.
"I-I don't like it," you said— quietly, because if you spoke any louder it would've been mostly unintelligible with sobs.
"Huh?" he taunted, leaning in closer.
"It hurts, Jackson," you choked, pleading.
“No?” he noticed, feigning shock with heavy sarcasm in his tone.  “Are you saying you don’t like it up the ass?”
“Please, please,” you choked out, “fuckin’ hurts— god, please, hurts—”
"You don't like it, sweetheart?" he cooed at you, cloying condescension dripping from every word as he roughly pet the hair out of your face. You whined and shook your head. "Well, I could always put it back in your cunt, would that make you feel better?"
He chuckled at your grimace of disgust.
"Is that too dirty for you?" he wondered, clicking his tongue.  "Aw, it's okay, just gonna give you what you wanted— hold still, baby."
You winced when he pulled out of your ass, only to whine as he slid back into your cunt; you hid your face, feeling how absurdly warm it had become from all this, and tried not to think about how dehumanizing what he had just done to you was.
He picked his pace right back up when he entered you, letting out a deep groan of satisfaction.  "Oh my god you're fucking dripping, is that from being fucked in your little ass?" he noticed. "Jesus Christ, wettest fucking pussy I ever had... somebody likes it dirty, hm?"
You wanted to deny it, but he wasn’t lying about your physical reaction; you were soaking, and you didn’t even know why.  It wasn’t like you found much pleasure in that experience physically, it was rather agonizing— and then there was the thought of it, of knowing you’d been used that way, and it just made you feel dizzy and weird.  Regardless, it was true… your body responded even when your mind was running in circles convincing itself there was nothing enjoyable about this.
“Such a pretty thing,” Jackson purred at you as he sped up again, shaking your whole body against the floor— that arm around your shoulders was the only thing keeping you from being pushed away, and he held you tightly like he really was worried you’d get away somehow, even though you’d stopped resisting quite a while ago.  
At least it didn’t hurt anymore— except that you were still a little sore, and he was holding you too tight and his weight made it hard to breathe, and you were probably going to get rug burn, and you felt disgusting.  But in a literal sense, it hurt less.
“Think I need to turn you over and get a good look at that pretty face,” he decided, pulling out of you and rolling you onto your back.  Maybe it was just because you knew it was only for a moment, but being empty wasn’t as much of a relief as you expected.  You were pretty much limp by this point, letting him turn you over and simply looking up at him blankly.  “Oh,” he said as he smiled proudly, “look how fucked out you look— and I’m not even done with you yet.”
Lifting your legs and pressing them against your chest, he slid back in until he was deeper than you thought possible, and you gasped and shivered helplessly.  “F-fuck, wait—“
He started to fuck into you quickly, and you nearly screamed, reaching down to try to hold his thigh or push him back or something to keep him from going so far inside you, but nothing deterred him.  For how drained you were a moment ago, the shock of this gave you renewed energy, and you hated feeling your walls bear down on him in sick, overwhelming pleasure.  “Oh god,” he moaned, “so fucking good.”
As hard as you were trying not to be loud, your efforts were lost when he reached down and roughly rubbed at your swollen clit; again, you tried to reach to stop him, holding onto his wrist and pushing his hand away with all your strength, but he bested you easily and kept going.  “Fuck!” you screamed.  “Please, please— it’s too much, I—”
“It’s okay, baby,” he soothed, watching proudly as your back arched and your head tilted back with a gasp.  
You hadn’t even realized you were building to an orgasm— you would’ve sworn you weren’t, before, but now you felt all sensitive and sticky, and his thumb on your clit was relentless, and the shivers that had been running all over you all evening were turning into hard, heavy jolts of— of something.  Something you’d been holding back longer than you realized.  Something you hadn’t felt in much, much longer than three weeks.
“It’s okay,” he kept encouraging you with a proud grin that turned into a growl through his teeth as he fucked you harder.  “Show him what it looks like when you’re not faking it, babydoll.  Show him who you really belong to now.”
“Please,” you cried, the word barely spoken and more just a shape you made around your cries.  If he didn’t stop now, you wouldn’t be able to, either; you were spasming uncontrollably, inside and out, it was just getting worse and worse (or better and better, depending on how you looked at it).
It felt fucking good.  You would die before you admitted it, but you didn’t have to— it was obvious.  And it was overtaking everything now, even your shame, until for one impossible moment, you were completely shameless.  You weren’t sure you had ever felt quite like that before— not just physically, but spiritually.  Shameless.  Even though all you’d felt until now was ashamed.  “Good girl,” Jackson praised you, though it was sort of lost on you as you were coming down from a high that hit you hard enough to not even feel real until it was nearly over.  
It was like time had slowed down, and then snapped back to superspeed, to hyperreality, when he finally pulled his hand away and let you have a small reprieve.  
"Fuck, I'm gonna come, oh my god," he gasped, his voice getting oddly high-pitched as he said it. "Want me to come inside, babydoll, or paint that pretty face?"
“Not… not inside,” you warned, just conscious enough to remember that.
“Mm?  Why not?” he smirked.
You were still blinking away the blurriness in your vision, panting, trying to process all that you’d just felt— so you really didn’t have any energy for stupid questions like that.  “What?” you just asked groggily.  “Why… why do you think?!”
He just laughed briefly— more like a hum— and kept going.  Of course, you should’ve known he’d do it once he realized your boyfriend didn’t; but wasn’t it enough that you and your boyfriend used condoms and Jackson had already gone past that?
“Just— just don’t,” you begged again, shut up with a firm hand over your mouth suddenly as he grunted lowly above you with each thrust.
“Fuck,” he said, a sort of warning though it wasn’t specific.  “Fuck!”
He bit his lip when it happened; you shut your eyes, not wanting to see his face all slack and flushed like that with his hair falling forward and his neck and jaw flexing.  But closing your eyes only made the feeling inside you more undeniable: the rush of warmth, the flexing against your walls as he pushed himself in as deep as he could.  You whimpered a little, though you weren’t sure it was audible to anyone but yourself, and Jackson sighed as he emptied himself into you.
He took his hand away with a deep breath, and all you did was let your mouth fall open and your eyes blink numbly— what else was there to do?
As he caught his breath, he laughed a little, very softly; he put his hands on the floor beside your head, propping himself up but letting his head hang down loosely for a second— he was still smiling.
“You’re… you’re really something else, you know that, babydoll?” he informed you.
You didn’t say anything, and he sighed again just before he pulled out— you both winced, for different reasons, and he took a moment to hold your legs open so he could look at what he’d done to you; you felt filthy and exposed like that, but you were too weak to try to stop him or even to close your legs.
“Now that’s just beautiful,” he decided in reaction to whatever he saw; you didn’t want to picture it, how stretched out and used up you must look, but you could feel his come oozing out, running down.
Some of the numbness was already wearing off, at least physically, and you were beginning to realize how purely un-ergonomic it was to get fucked on the floor.  Your back and shoulders were sore, your legs were tight when you finally got to lay them down again after being held up for so long… you tried not to imagine how long you’d be feeling the effects of this, wearing bruises and feeling knots and having to know exactly where they came from.
“Come on,” he mumbled as he lifted up your limp upper body, pulling you closer to him.  He held your face for a second, petting your cheek which was still a bit clammy with sweat.  “Kiss me,” he demanded, though he said it somewhat softly; you didn’t actually sit up and do it for him, but you let him press his lips to yours and you tried your best to half-heartedly mirror his movements as he did it.
He held your head and neck more firmly and slid his tongue into the kiss, making you whimper a little but that was the end of your protest.  You thought it was a little strange that he wanted to kiss you now, but maybe it was just a matter of claiming you in the final way since he’d pretty much covered all the others.
When he broke away, he brushed his thumb over your cheek and smiled at you sweetly.  
It’s over, you told yourself, hoping to feel more relieved.  It’s over, he’s finally done with you.  You did it.  It’s over.  But as those words repeated in your mind, you only felt emptier than ever.
“Look at your boy over there,” Jackson mumbled beside your ear, a smirk on his lips as he shook you a bit with the arm around you.  “You see it, don’t you?  He looks different now.”
You dared to glance at your captive boyfriend, who you realized you hadn’t heard muffled protests from in quite some time.  His eyes were bloodshot and swollen, but dark, too; his stare was heavy and piercing.  You suddenly felt sick.
“He looks at you different now.”
You bit down on your lip as it started to shake; you felt worse than ever with him looking at you like that.  Things hadn’t been perfect before he left— nothing’s ever perfect— but they were good, and easy, and now you felt like he hated you.  But what had you done wrong?  All you’d done was try to keep him unharmed by appeasing this awful, horrible person… 
Jackson had already been speaking quietly, but he dropped his voice down to whisper as he rubbed your shoulder.  “I don’t think he’ll look at you the same way ever again,” he posited, and you swallowed as your stomach dropped.  
“I don’t… I don’t understand,” you whispered under your breath.
“He’s never seen you like that before,” Jackson explained, “and he understands now that he can’t do for you what I can.”
Jackson brought his hand to his own chest as he said that, but then reached up to wipe up another tear that rolled down your cheek.  “Please,” you said, looking at your boyfriend though he wouldn’t meet your gaze, “don’t— don’t think that I— it’s not my fault!  I didn’t want this to happen!”
“Shh, you don’t have to lie anymore,” Jackson cooed at you, “we’ve all seen the truth now, it’s alright.”
You were exhausted, you were devastated, you were too overwhelmed to even feel terrified anymore; you dropped your head onto Jackson’s shoulder defeatedly.  After all you’d been through tonight, you were starting to lose track of what was real anymore.
He let you cry quietly against him for a while, petting your head, until finally breaking the silence.  “Now, the thing is, there’s actually just… one more thing I need you to do for me,” he admitted, and you started to cry harder again.
“Please— please, I did everything you asked,” you sputtered out through your tears, “you took.  Everything. From me.”
“Hold on, that’s not true,” he frowned, “you’ve still got your cuck boyfriend over there, even if he’s not quite what he used to be— you still love him, don’t you?  Can’t help that?”
“O-of course I do,” you insisted, feeling oddly guilty as you said it.
“So, you don’t want me to hurt him?” 
Even if this was the end— even if he would hold what was done to you against you, which would break your heart— you couldn’t have that on your conscience.  You shook your head.
“I didn’t think so,” Jackson nodded, “you’re too sweet for that.  I won’t hurt him, and I’ll let him go, if you promise to do what I ask you to.”
“What more… what more could you possibly want…” you breathed, shaking your head, trying not to imagine what else there was for him to do to you.
“Something a lot less fun than what I wanted before,” he smirked.  “What I need from you now is purely work-related.”
You wrinkled your brows together with a sniffle as you began to slowly compose yourself.  “Work…?”
“Let me tell you a little bit more about what I do for a living…”
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suguru-getos · 5 months
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soft yandere satoru hcs:
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a/n: hey, you guys should know i ship myself with him so there's no way i'd tolerate insane yandere satoru without ki!ling myself :P soooo- here's me making him a soft yan ^^
warnings: yandere behavior, mentions of arranged marriage troupe, stalkingtroupe, angry!sato ofc but he is still normal about it. mentions of fluff because it's satoru duh <33 also, this is one of the softest yandere hcs i've ever written *giggles*
yandere!satoru who saw you the first time in a jujutsu clan party hosted by your parents and how insignificant you truly were. to yourself, you had the best parents ever, they didn't push you into becoming a sorcerer, but to the kamo, zenin, and gojo clan members it was pure bullshit. wastage of proper sorcerer blood.
until yandere satoru met you for the first time and you hung out, the way he conversed was so different from someone who should be the strongest, someone who wields the highest powers in the whole world. someone who's birth shook the shackles of this world alone. he was kind, he sat next to you, non-judgemental even so he was weirdly wearing that damned blindfold.
he talked to you about your life, and about his own. pointing out the subtle and the not so subtle differences between the both of you. asking if you had a boyfriend. it was so subtle how could you think he had any other intention but to be your friend? naive and stupid.
things escalated real quickly when your mother told you that you were supposed to marry satoru gojo, oh my god- the clan head of the gojo clan, the ever so spoiled, esteemed entitled brat. you really couldn't say anything about this, but to hold your guns you decided to contact him. "you knew that this was happening?" you mumbled, watching him stir the coffee in front of you lazily. "of course, gosh you are so lucky little one!" he snickered, though the way he looks at you, it's hard to process what he's truly feeling inside. you are unaware of his stalking, how he knows your colleagues, how they are what they do, what they eat, how they breathe, to whom you are closer to, who likes you- what time do you get up, eat, what snack do you like, ghana roasted coffees over normal ones. though he would not admit to it.
there are a few times he has watched you sleep like a creep, just sitting next to you, just feeling the innate feeling of sharing the same bed as you. how cute you are, he often mumbles to himself. "i could crush you without even trying" as a musing criteria for how naive you are, how cute you are and how absolutely adorable you are. creepy-
to pretend that he is more than willing to let you take things your own way, he lets you plan dates. cute, adorable dates. one of the days you would be doing pottery with him, the other time it's an aquarium date where satoru doesn't know why you're so mesmerised when the real awe is you, the other time it was a planeterium and that's when satoru shows you his abilities for the first time, holding you closer to him like the princess you are and walking on sky, as if it's nothing, amid the full moon night. the other time it's you and him making tiaras in a garden, sometimes he would just randomly pull you closer, kissing your cheek while languishing in a movie together. so cute, so astonishingly cute! maybe marrying him is not a bad idea???
things show you their true form when you were on a date in a high-end restaurant, roof-top and fully booked. he's always been so cute with you, you had opened up and been comfortable enough. until a waiter decided to hit on you, before long- you found him choking on his own blood, despicable sight of him oozing out blood from his eyes, coughing and dying in front of you. "wh- what was that?" when you glance at satoru, he is emphasising the same lazy grin, smirking. "what. go on? smile back!" he muses, and when you're a teary-eyed mess, he presents himself with a carefully painted visage of guilt. "oh no no- baby i'm so sorry- i lost it, you make me lose it! i love you so much please no!"
would not let you have personal space after, forcing your parents to hasten the whole marriage thingy, he thinks you would leave him and that has him acting out of character. though he now knows fear is a powerful tool, even though he does not want to use it on his darling. sometimes he can't help it, especially when you act so fucking adamant and so fucking stubborn!!
"listen, princess, here's what's going to happen. daddy's going to be really cooperative if you come here and give him a hug, daddy does not want to be a meanie to his little girl. you know that right?" by being a 'meanie' he just means getting angry, manhandling you against the wall, seething in rage and bubbling hot with the insecurity of your behavior being the slightest of different.
the thing is satoru really, really loves you. the prospect of being a yandere is more 'dere' in him. however when the yandere shows? that's when you should truly fear the capabilities of this man. satoru hates this but he can sometimes use your triggers against you. don't like being tied up, maybe an empty threat would get you in line, after all, you refuse to listen when he wants to love you!
he's going to make sure your engagement ring has a location curse imbued into it, he wants to know 24x7 where his baby is. one time you lied to him that you are at work when you were actually in a colleague's party, you were greeted by the whole party avenue being destroyed to shreds, people bruised and only you knew it was your now husband, because he texted. 'infinity protects you princess, not others. next time think twice about lying to daddy.'
his behavior can get hot and cold instantly, one moment he is the most adorable man-child, loving you, playing with you... until he's ticked off and the real, no-nonsense monster comes out to meet you. a scathing frown with glowy eyes as he reminds you that you belong to the 'strongest'.
there are times he does use sex as a weapon, a weapon to make you give in. he is just so good at it, he is going to spoil you senseless, kissing every square inch of your body, worshipping you, crying with you when he mumbles apologies for being angry and mean at you, for scaring you, you don't deserve it, such a pretty baby, oh you take him so well. he was made for you, you are the strongest because you have him wrapped around your pinkie... only to show you the rage and insecurity and all of it when you come home late.
the only positivity you have, is he would rather kill himself than hurt you. that brings you peace, that brings a sense of stability and sensibility into you to hang onto the rope of your relationship a bit longer, clutching onto the fleeting hope of him changing...
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bitchimasnake-sss · 8 days
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Sleep nonnie again. Is it okay if I go by 🦊🌲 its easier.
Anyways I think it would be a funny scenario if you suggest to the op boys to keep their hands warm by putting them between your thighs. I know some boys would just get a heart attack if you suggest that and get a cute blush
say whAT NOW?? NONNIE HELLO AND WELCOME BACK!! (dm me so that we can be friends ur fic ideas are so out of pocket i love it); also, gonna add ace cause i see many ace thirsties out there ;)
let me warm you up ft. the monster trio//ace!
luffy:
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💗when he agreed to this, he didn't know just what kind of uncharted territory he was entering. he was simply not prepared. you had given him such a soft smile, taking his hands into yours as gingerly, "luff, are you cold?" he had nodded a mindless yes because you were crossing a terribly cold patch of the sea and his hands were freezing. but then held his hand a bit tighter and whispered, "i can warm them up for you. if you like?" he was too drunk on the idea to see the mischievous glint in your eyes and the way you spurred him on with your honey-like voice.
💗so now, he sat in front of you, eyes blown wide and lips trembling as his hands rested between your plush thighs. you had squeezed your thighs shut around his restless hands, claiming that it'll get him warm in little to no time. but god, this was hard (much like something else) and he was trying his best to keep his fingers still and not do anything hasty, like digging it into your soft flesh and relishing in the way your body molded to his touches. or by trailing his hand a bit upwards and seeing the way you react. 💗"luffy??" you called out and captain shook his head as he crawled out of that daze like state, "y-yeah?" "you okay?" you mumbled, voice far too gentle. you fucking minx. "you seem like you're losing your mind." good catch! because he was. luffy abruptly pulled his hands backwards lest he do something that truly made him lose his sanity. he scrambled off of your bed, heading out the door into the chilly deck in long, skitterish steps. "where ya going?" you called after him but he rushed out, yelling after himself, "JUST GONNA WARM UP WITH USSOP INSTEAD BYE" did ussop have better thighs than you? you may never know.
zoro:
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💚zoro was very stupid, very. he was not the smartest tool in the shed when it came to love or crushes or dating or cooking food or social cues or emotional intelligence or— i should stop before this turns into zoro slander [i promise i love him]. but now, the bounty hunter sat with his face flushed and hands tucked between your soft, malleable thighs. he was smarter than this, truly. he knew that when you suggested that he looked cold and you can warm him up, he was supposed to say "fuck no, get out." because having a crush on you was embarrassing enough on it's own. but you had given him such a gut-wrenching, pleading look. your eyes saddened and your lips fell into a pout and oh god, what was he, if not the man who would let you ruin him? 💚ever since he was a child, zoro had always known that he would die a noble swordman's death. he would die fighting, brave, courageous, unafraid. now, he was sure he'd die from the way you squirmed and pressed your thighs shut. "quit movin'" he grunted, looking away from you as your stared at him. but you tucked your arms against your chest and the soft swell of your tits fell forward towards him so deliciously. he must have lost focus and let his gaze travel against your body cause you coughed, drawing his attention back to your face, "quit starin'." he pulled his hands back, ears going red and heart faltering. he should really stop before he gave into the temptations and pinned you to the mattress to— his voice pitched up, "i-i'm going back to my room, bye." "zoro?!" you called after the swordsman as he ran out, "BUT THIS IS YOUR ROOM, WHERE ARE YOU GOING??" [spoiler: he went to chopper and crushed herbs to make medicine. he wanted to get rid of some of that tension but he failed. because he put the pressure too hard and the china dish in which he was crushing the leafy herbs broke, and now chopper was hitting him square in his head, talking about how important it was to be precise in medicine and how zoro will never make a good doctor. "stop hitting me— OW" "what KIND OF A DOCTOR ARE YOU?" "IM A SWORDSMAN!" "YEAH CAUSE YOU CANNOT BE A DOCTOR!"]
sanji:
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💙breath in, breathe out. breathe in, breathe out. breath in, breath out— "sanji?" you asked, a tinge of worry at his almost fainting figure, "are you okay?!" "my love, darling, sugar pie—" the man caught his tongue between his teeth, trying to stop his head from spinning. the floor seem to sway under him, the lights seemed too bright. was he flying or was it the blood rush?? "what did you just ask me?" you look down at the kitchen floor, mumbling with a bashful smile, "if your hands are cold...i can warm them up." his heart quickened as did his fingers. he chopped the bell pepper so hastily that you were sure you saw sparks flying. "and how would you do that?" "you can keep them between my thighs, if you like?" you looked up, "OH MY GOD SANJI YOUR NOSE—" 💙i hate to cut the story short but sanji 100% fainted and you had to catch him before he fell face-forward into the pot with boiling water on the stove. sorry, he gets no bitches :( but you did look after him on the bedside and let him eventually touch your thighs so... idk, a win is a win!!! ["so, is he like dead?" zoro had asked, uninterested, as you hauled the cook's figure outside the kitchen. you were dragging him to his room as the rest of the crew trailed you. they had heard your shriek and came spilling into the kitchen to see what the fuss was about. "did you give him a hug?" nami asked, amused. "hug's too much." ussop snickered, "she probably smiled at him." sanji whipped his head dangerously to glare at them, "i can hear you. and i will be poisoning your food." he looked back at you, "oh don't you worry, im still fainted." he closed his eyes, letting his forehead fall on your shoulder. you smiled to yourself, making a note to warm him up later]
ace:
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🧡truthfully, how do you ask a man made of literal fire if you can "warm him up"??? you must have not thought you plan through because you had stood in his room a bit tipsy, locked the door behind you and asked a boy [who was always shirtless cause he was so warm] that question. "huh?" ace's eyes widened in pleasant surprise. he stood up to walk towards you, "what is that about? you wanna warm me up?" "NO!" you bit your cheek when you realized the implications of your words, "i was joking, obviously." "awh, i do love when you humor me." he quipped, "it's kinda cute." "shut up." you glared at him but he gave you an earnest smile back, "if you're cold, you could have just told me." he set his finger ablaze, acting suave, "see, i can warm you up." "you wanna set me on fire?" you seethed. "no?!" "why did you light your fingers on fire?!" "YOU ASKED A MAN MADE OF FIRE IF YOU CAN WARM HIM UP? DONT ASK ME QUESTIONS?!" "i'm drunk" you mumbled. after a beat you looked down at the floor, "and... i'm kinda cold." portagas d. ace just smiled, shrugging in mock nonchalance, "we can cuddle, if you like. i've been told i'm a pretty great heater." you laughed, "hah, hotshot." ace gave you a wicked grin, "how drunk are you?" "not nearly enough." just saying, portagas d ace was better than just a "pretty great heater." he was a pretty great fu-
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a/n: i love writing stupid things so much. it makes me so happy because i'm a stupid little girl giggling and typing on her laptop when she should be doing work. tagging the ever lovelies: @bokutosbiceps (resident luffy enjoyer) and @help-i-lost-my-sock (resident ace enjoyer). if you wanna be added to the tag list, please let me know (//tell me your preferences and i'd tag you in those fics)!
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wongyuuu · 30 days
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https://www.instagram.com/reel/C4skP1tuO6F/?igsh=MTNtamg3ZmM1aDgxbw==
Can u plssss make a husband mingyu fic of his daughter absolutely hating his haircut go from long to extremely short causing him to sulk and hate his own hair then y/n having to comfort him😭😭 this video legit reminded me of this instantly idek how
i'm not supposed to be taking requests but this was just something that stuck to my mind ever since i read it. so here it is! i hope you like it! i'm also just in time for his birthday
when he cuts his hair
pairing: mingyu x fem!reader genre: fluff word count: 769 warnings: slightly suggestive not proofread
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You did your best to contain your smile, or at least tried to hide it, as your daughter cried into your shoulder, her small tears soaking your shirt and her hands balled into tiny fists in your hair. Under normal circumstances, you’d have taken her hand away but in that moment, it seemed like the only option to have her calm down. 
Your husband sat on the couch, the blanket you kept on the back of it wrapped around his head and shoulder, as his eyes were two full moons in his face. Mingyu was a mixture of laughter and unwashed tears as he watched your daughter cry into you. 
“I didn’t know” his voice came out in a whine, his hold on the blanket tightening “I thought it would be okay”
Mingyu had left the house that morning saying “I’m going to cut hair, I’ll be right back”. He had kept his hair longer for almost a year and it was probably one of your daughter’s favorite things about him — that and also the fact that Mingyu even existed. “Not only does she look like you the most but she also loves you the most” you’d half-heartily complain sometimes. 
It became some sort of routine, if she fell asleep with Mingyu around, she’d most definitely have her hand in his hair. Logically and rationally you knew that Hanna wouldn't like the new haircut, but you also didn’t think that it would be that much of a big deal. What you also didn’t expect was for Mingyu to come back with the shortest hair you have ever seen on him. 
You had known Mingyu for roughly twelve years and he always kept his hair on the longer side. While the sight was a fantastic one, Hanna didn’t seem to share the same idea. 
She ran to the door excitedly the second she heard the sound of keys on the lock to greet her dad. She had the biggest smile on her face and then it just disappeared as she took in her dad’s new look. Her small features contorted and her eyes filled with tears and she ran back to you, hiding behind your legs.
Like he usually did, Mingyu kneeled to welcome the hug that always came but this time there was none. 
You wished you had recorded the whole thing, the way Hanna started to scream her lungs out because “not daddy” and Mingyu was a few seconds away from crying. 
“Hanna” you cooed “you don’t want to say hi to daddy? He missed while he was away”
She shook her head.
“Not daddy,” she said again, the new tears coming down her face.
It took you a good hour to get her to settle down and sleep. Her body still shook with sobs when you put her in bed. 
Mingyu was in the living room, in the same exact position as before, the blanket still wrapped around his head. His eyes were sort of lost until he finally seemed to notice you were back. Once again his eyes were filled with tears. 
“Babe, no, it’s fine,” you said, approaching him. 
When you were close enough he pulled you to him, hands around your waist and his head resting on your stomach. Slowly you pulled the blanket away from him and ran your hand over his hair. There wasn't a lot to hold onto, there was barely any hair in between your fingers, just a little more at the top for a quiff.
“She hates me now,” he complained.
There were these moments when it was hard to tell who was actually the 2 year old and who was the grown man.
“She doesn't, she just needs to get used to it. You're her favorite person” you assure him “She's just surprised. When you left there was hair in your head”
Mingyu groaned at your laugh.
“I just wanted to try something different”
You held his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you. Mingyu rested his chin on your stomach, beautiful dark eyes looking back at you.
“Do you like it, at least?”
You bit your lips, trying to keep yourself from saying that maybe you didn’t like it as much, that your favorite hair was that middle ground between short and longer. 
“You look younger” your words were slow, a little careful.
He groaned, pretending to cry, his arms getting even tighter around you. 
“Both of you hate it”
You bent forward and placed a kiss on his nose and then his lips until his pout was replaced by a smile. 
“At least there’s a little bit to hold on to”
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vivwritesfics · 2 months
Text
Fire Is The Devil's Only Friend
Chapter One
There was no such thing as making it on your own with a high profile boyfriend. That was why she kept her relationship a secret. But then after a PR fuck up, her boyfriend is forced into PR relationship and she's left on the side lines, missing him
Warnings: smut, marking up, breeding kink carlos
1.3K
Thank to so freaking much to @darleneslane for the idea for this one! Im so obsessed
Series Masterlist
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What is it with interviewers and always asking personal questions? The interview was supposed to be about her new book, and all she was being asked about was potential boyfriends.
She laughed and brushed on the question several times. She couldn't refuse to answer the question; that would just send more curiosity her way. And if she said she was single? Her inbox would be full of flirtatious messages.
Yes, she already had a boyfriend. They'd been together before she had made it big, when she was desperately trying to get somebody to read at least a single page of her writings.
She didn't know who he was when they first met. He was twenty five, gorgeous and oh so charming. It was so easy to fall for him. She fell in love with everything about him, and he with her. Nobody had ever asked her about herself and her writing at the level he did.
On every date he insisted on paying. She wasn't entirely comfortable about it, but she was a struggling author and she had very little money.
She realised who he was when he invited her to a Grand Prix. Initially she had declined. If he had enough money to take the both of them to a Grand Prix, she'd never be able to repay him.
Carlos asked again. It was late, they'd spent the day together and he'd made her dinner. They sat together on the couch, her body against his and his arms around her. "Come with me to a Grand Prix," he asked again and kissed the top of her head.
"Carlos, I can't," she said and turned towards him, her head on his chest.
Carlos kissed the top of her head. "Please," he tried again. "I could really use your support out there."
Suddenly she was sitting up. "You're a driver?" She asked, brows furrowed.
"Mi querida, you didn't know?"
She shook her head. "I thought you were just a really big Ferrari fan or something," she admitted.
Carlos couldn't stop the laugh that left his lips. He opened his arms wide once again and she fell against him. "So, are you coming to the Grand Prix with me?" He asked and she nodded her head.
But it wasn't as simple as that. She realised that the day after she agreed to go. She realised that the moment she got that all important email from a publishing house. The email that would change the trajectory of her life.
As upset that Carlos was that she changed her mind on the Grand Prix with him, he understood. As much as he wanted there, he accepted that she'd be supporting him from her apartment.
Nobody knew about her relationship with the Spanish Formula One driver. Her friends were constantly trying to set her up, but none of the men they introduced her to could hold a candle to Carlos. Not that she went on a date with any of these men. Not when she had Carlos.
The day her book was published, a year after she got that first email, she received an invite to the Ferrari garage. She looked at Carlos across the room and he just smirked.
He strode across the room and stood behind the couch, where she sat with notebooks spread around her. "Please, mi corazón," he said, his hand resting on her shoulders as he leaned over her.
She tipped her head back to look up at him. "Okay," she whispered and Carlos leaned down to kiss her.
But then he jumped over the sofa and pulled her to her feet. He pulled her into his arms and spun her around. "You have no idea how happy that makes me," he said and kissed her again.
She set rules. With her book coming out she didn't want to be seen with him, holding his hand or kissing him. She wanted sales off of her own merit, not because Carlos's fans wanted to support her, as sweet as it was.
"One day," he said, his forehead pressed against hers.
"One day," she agreed and kissed him.
She wanted to be there for the entire weekend, but she had meetings with her publisher and her own public relations team. The release of her book was the Wednesday after the Grand Prix and the publishers media team was working hard to push it.
The Grand Prix was a weekend to relax for her. At least, when it came to publishing her book. For the entire Grand Prix she'd have her nails between her teeth, anxiously chewing them.
She was in the Ferrari garage for the race. Nobody quite knew who she was. When the cameras zoomed in on her, the title card beneath her name just said 'indie author', which wasn't strictly true.
It was her first Grand Prix. Carlos was so close to a podium, just missing out. Still, she'd kiss him and celebrate later as though he'd won a world championship.
Carlos watched as Max held Kelly close, as Sergio held his wife and Charles held Alexandra. He wanted that, more than anything he wanted to hold his girl.
Soon, he'd be holding her soon.
That night, hidden away in their hotel room, Carlos wrapped his strong arms around her. His hips moved against her as she moaned and writhed beneath him. He kissed her neck, bit and nibbled, sucking at the skin there.
The bed squeaked as he moved, thrusting into her. "I'm gonna put my baby in you," he grunted, eyes shut as she clenched around him. Her legs shook as she came around him and Carlos let out breathy grunts.
He came, his thrusts sloppy as his seed painted her walls. His forehead was against hers as he pulled out and laid down beside her, wrapping his arms around her.
"I love you," she whispered and kissed his nose.
Carlos pulled her into his warm body. "I love you," he whispered back. They fell asleep like that, a tangle of limbs, wrapped in each others loving embrace. For the first time in a year, Carlos was happy to be falling asleep beside the girl he loved after a race.
As they fell asleep, in the early hours of the morning, something very different was happening with the staff of the Ferrari F1 team. Well, for one particular member of the Ferrari F1 team, things were very different.
Maybe the employee was disgruntled, unhappy with their job. They had information that nobody else had, which is why they released it to the world. That was the one piece of power they had as a social media admin.
The post was only online for seconds before another admin took it down. But that was long enough for fifty thousand people to have screenshots. All of the dirty secrets Ferrari had been hiding from the fans. Details of sordid affairs and more. Scuderia Ferrari had been laid bare for the world to see.
The PR team worked through the night. They had to do something, something that would distract the world. "Who is the girl that's been coming to the garage?" Asked a member of the team.
"Who, the author?"
The team member shook her head. "The model. Rebecca something."
"Rebecca Donaldson?"
The team member pointed her pen towards her colleague. "Bingo. We set her up with Carlos and it should take the heat off of us for a while."
It was decided. Carlos Sainz, who the world thought was single, was going to be set up with Rebecca Donaldson to distract the world from the Ferrari blunder.
The ring buried away in his bag would certainly have something to say about it.
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imbored1201 · 5 months
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Can I send a request of barca teen reader who is very mischievous and tries to prank everybody
Piggy
Barcelona Femeni x Teen reader
A/N: I though of a situation of pranking someone then causing trouble with another situation👍
Word Count: 1,344
"Give me that." Ingrid snatched away the sharpie you had. "Hey! I'm using that for my notes.
"A sharpie for your notes, really?" She put her hands on her hips and gave you a mom look. You were sitting in the trunk of her car doing the remainder of your 'school work'. At least that's what you told her you were going to do.
"Yes, people do that; you haven't been to school in like 15 years, so you wouldn't know," you shrugged. Ingrid shook her head. "You always complain about the smell of sharpies, and you’re calling me old; this is such an old prank.
She was talking about the sign you had; 'kick me' it read, and it was supposed to go on Patri's back. "So, it will still be funny to see.
You took the paper back, applied tape to it, and shoved all your material back into your bag. "Don't be a snitch," you told Ingrid, and skipped away.
————
"Hey, Patri," you said joyfully as you hit her back, applying the note. "You're happier than usual," she said suspiciously. "Of course I am; I'm officially on Christmas break." She smiled at that; now you were off the radar.
—————
"Ay!" You turned as you heard Patri yell, seeing Claudia there giggling as Patri held her butt. "You said to do it." Patri looked confused at what Claudia said but just went on with training.
It kept happening as training went on. Aitana, Ona, Lucy, Salma, Oshoala, Mapi, Jana, Cata, and Gemma all kicked her.
Ingrid would just shake her head at you when you walked or ran past her. All the older girls, too, knew you were the reason for that sign on Patri's back. Everyone did, but they decided to ignore it and let you have your fun.
It was a harmless prank anyway.
—————
"Okay, what the heck is going on?!" Patri demanded as she entered the locker room after a long training session. You held a smile as everyone turned to her, confused. You looked down as Alexia gave you a look, and you were surprised she didn't say anything about it.
You were already changed and only waiting on Alexia; you were the first one in the locker room, knowing you would have to make a quick escape.
"Why is everyone kicking me today?" Everyone shrugged at Patri's question; she scowled and got changed.
You stared at her as she took off her shirt. You quickly grabbed your bag, grabbed Alexia's hand, and dragged her outside.
"Y/N!" You heard Patri yell, and you bolted. Alexia sighed as she ran with you, already used to this.
It happened every training, and she just went along with it now since it put you in a good mood instead of a crappy teenager attitude.
—————
"Are you ready?" Alexia knocked on your door, "wait, I'm packing." "For what? It's just a gathering." You rolled your eyes as you fed Piggy and put her into your bag, leaving it a little bit open.
"Okay, I'm ready." Alexia gave you a look; she knew you were up to something. "Why are you taking a bag?" "I always carry a bag with me," you said.
The team was having a little gathering to celebrate the last game of 2023.
"We're already late because of you; I told you to be ready by 4; it's already 6," she scolded. "I fell asleep; Lucy says I need my rest to grow," you tried defending. "Get in the car."
—————
When you got to Frido's place, you rushed to find Patri and sat next to her. She gave you a little glare and went back to watching the movie Frido had put on. Everyone else was too busy drinking and talking outside or in the kitchen about the upcoming games.
"Patri," she turned to you, "yes." "Can you help me prank Aitana and Ona?" She smiled a bit; she was happy it wasn't her again.
"What's your idea?" You grabbed your backpack and took out the tiny box. A tiny box that had a tiny spider. The "tiny spider" was a tarantula.
"How the hell do you have that?!" She said in shock, and you shushed her. "Her name is Piggy, and I got her yesterday." Patri looked terrified as she scooted over a little bit.
"Does Alexia know?" You shook your head. "I need to tell her because I need to get Piggy a home." "Then how did you get her?" "Mapi took me; I told her I was getting fish food, and she didn't question why I had a box or if I even had a fish." Patri shook her head.
"You have to promise me you won't prank me anymore for a month," she said, holding out her pinky, and you took the deal.
Patri went up to Aitana and Ona, who were in conversation and drinking together in the kitchen. She grabbed them by their shoulders and dragged them outside.
You followed but got run over by Lucy. You dropped the box, and Piggy automatically crawled away, sick of being in that tiny box. "Jeez, sorry kid." Lucy helped you up. You looked around on the floor, and your heart dropped when you realized you couldn't find Piggy.
"Lucy, Piggy is gone," you said in a panic. "Who's Piggy?" She questioned, but you guys heard a scream. A loud, loud scream. "Shit," you cursed as you ran to the kitchen.
"No!" You yelled, seeing Frido holding a shoe in her hand, ready to destroy Piggy. "Piggy!" You yelled as you ran and picked her up.
"Why do you have a tarantula!?" Keira yelled as she stood on the counter. "I adopted her," you told them, and they both looked at you in shock.
"Alexia let you get a spider?!" Lucy said surprised. Alexia walked in; her eyes widening when she saw what you were holding.
"Where- how did you. You're returning that." She let out a sigh as she shook her head and walked away. "Great, I'm in trouble now. Good going, Lucy," you said, sticking out your tongue at her.
You walked outside, looking sad. "What's wrong, Amiga?" Patri asked, confused. "Alexia said I have to return Piggy." Aitana's jaw dropped as she saw what you had in your hand.
"Nope," she simply said as she went back inside, dragging Ona with her. Patri looked at you and patted your shoulder in sympathy, but quickly backed away when you lifted Piggy up to her.
You had a plan, though, and you knew Alexia would let you keep Piggy.
—————
For having to return your pet Tarantula you were already attached to, you were quite happy. Alexia was just glad you weren't going to throw a tantrum about it.
She was leaving to pick Olga up from the airport, and you were waiting to put on your class act. "I'll be back in a bit; please don't break anything." You nodded, and she left.
You sat patiently by the door, working up your tears. You rushed to your feet once it opened. Alexia walking in first with Olga's luggage. Then Olga walked in.
"Olga!" You cried out, running straight into her arms. Alexia looked confused on why you were crying. "What happened?" She asked, confused.
"Olga, I got a pet Tarantula, and Alexia is trying to make me take her back," you cried, and Olga glared at Alexia. "Bebe, you can't have a tarantula," Alexia tried explaining.
"Yes, I can! I bought her, and I love her, so she's mine," Alexia groaned as Olga smacked her on the shoulder.
"Okay, you can keep her, but she's your responsibility, and I want you to keep her far away from me." You nodded.
"Okay, now that's sorted, let's go out to eat, yeah?" Olga said as she wiped your tears. You nodded happily and skipped off to your room.
You grinned as you texted Patri the good news and got ready. With the look Olga kept giving Alexia, you knew Alexia was sleeping on the couch tonight.
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lecsainz · 1 year
Text
stuck in the elevator
pairings: charles leclerc x fem!reader
warnings: Y/N freaking out and charles being a sweetheart, the elevator breaking down, cute french nicknames.
authors note: [SOMETHING COOL] because i really have no idea what to write here today 😭
word count: 1.1K
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Charles Leclerc was in Miami for the Grand Prix, but he had to take a break from the busy atmosphere and have a moment to himself. He decided to take the elevator up to his hotel room when he saw a girl in there with him. He was on the phone and didn't pay much attention to her until the elevator suddenly shook, causing Y/N to stumble. The girl, Y/N, immediately started to panic, saying things like "I can't die yet" and "I have so much to live for". Charles found it amusing, but he knew he needed to comfort her.
"I think we're stuck," Charles replied, his eyes scanning the elevator buttons.
"What do you mean we're stuck? We can't be stuck!" Y/N started to panic.
"Hey, hey, it's okay," Charles said, putting a hand on her shoulder. "We'll get out of here soon enough."
"But what if we don't? What if we're stuck in here forever?" Y/N asked, her voice shaking.
Charles couldn't help but chuckle. "Trust me, we won't be stuck in here forever. And even if we were, I don't think spending eternity with you would be so bad."
Y/N blushed at his words, and Charles couldn't help but smile at her reaction.
They spent the next few minutes trying to press the emergency button and asking for help, but there was no response.
Charles leaned against the wall, "Well, looks like we're stuck here for a while."
Y/N groaned, "Great. Just my luck."
Charles looked at Y/N, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Well, ma chérie, I guess we'll have to find a way to pass the time then." he said, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips.
Y/N couldn't help but feel a shiver run down her spine at the sound of Charles' french.
Y/N arched an eyebrow, curious. "And what did you have in mind?" she asked.
Charles stepped closer, his hand reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair out of her face. "I was thinking we could get to know each other a little better." he said, his voice low and seductive. Y/N couldn't help but smile.
"So, Miami, huh?" Charles asked, leaning against the wall of the elevator with a curious expression.
Y/N nodded, "Yeah, I heard the Grand Prix is amazing, and I've never been to Miami before, so I figured why not?"
"Do you like formula one?" he asked surprised.
Y/N nodded. "Yeah, I do."
Charles' face lit up. "That's great! Do you have a favorite team?"
Y/N grinned mischievously. "I'm a Mercedes fan. I mean, have you seen Toto Wolff? He's a total babe."
Charles feigned offense, putting a hand over his heart. "Hey now, I'm a Ferrari driver. You're not supposed to like our rivals."
Y/N laughed. "Well, I can't help it. But I think your charming french accent could make me change my mind." Charles smiled smugly at the compliment.
"Well, I appreciate the sentiment. Maybe I can even convince you to switch over to Team Ferrari." He teased, his eyes sparkling.
Y/N raised an eyebrow, feigning consideration. "Hmm, I don't know. I mean, I don't think anyone can replace Toto in my heart." Charles laughed, shaking his head.
They sat in silence for a few moments before he spoke up again, "You know, there's something about being stuck in an elevator that's kind of romantic."
Y/N raised an eyebrow, "Really? I'm not feeling it."
Charles grinned, "Well, just imagine it. Two people, alone in a confined space, forced to confront their feelings."
Y/N rolled her eyes, "Oh please. There are no feelings here."
Charles chuckled, "Are you sure about that, ma chérie? I mean, you did say my french accent was charming."
Y/N's cheeks turned red, "I did not!"
They fell into a comfortable silence, both lost in their own thoughts. Charles picked up his phone and began scrolling through his photos.
"You know, I have some amazing pictures from Monaco," he said, showing Y/N a photo of himself overlooking the harbor.
Y/N leaned over to get a better look, her arm brushing against his. She quickly pulled away, but Charles didn't seem to mind.
"It's beautiful." she said, admiring the photo.
"It's my hometown. I was born and raised there." Charles replied with a smile.
S/N's eyes widened in surprise. "Really? I had no idea."
"Yeah, it's a special place for me." Charles said, his gaze lingering on Y/N.
As hours passed and they were still stuck in the elevator, Charles and Y/N talked about everything and nothing. They discussed their favorite movies, their dream travel destinations, and even shared childhood stories.
Charles found himself enjoying Y/N's company more and more as they talked. She was funny, intelligent, and had a unique perspective on life that he found refreshing. As the hours dragged on, they joked and laughed together, forgetting about the chaos of being stuck in an elevator.
At some point, exhaustion caught up with Y/N and she dozed off, her head resting on Charles' shoulder. He couldn't help but smile at the sight of her sleeping peacefully, her breaths steady and calm.
He brushed a stray strand of hair from her face and whispered, "Tu es tellement belle*." *you are so beautiful
When they finally got out of the elevator, Y/N woke up from her nap on Charles' shoulder, she felt a bit embarrassed but also grateful for his comfort during their ordeal in the elevator. She looked up at him and smiled.
"Thank you so much for being there for me, Charles. I don't know what I would have done without you," she said.
Charles smiled back at her. "Of course, Y/N. I'm just glad I could be of help. And who knows, maybe we can find ourselves stuck in an elevator again sometime soon," he teased.
Y/N laughed. "I think once was enough for me, but I wouldn't mind seeing you again outside of an elevator."
Charles watched Y/N walk away, feeling a sudden pang of regret. He realized that they hadn't exchanged numbers or made any plans to meet up again. He mentally scolded himself for being so caught up in the moment and not thinking ahead.
"*Merde." he muttered to himself. "I can't believe I forgot to ask for her number."*shit
But he wasn't about to give up that easily. He made a mental note to try and find her at the Grand Prix later that day, hoping to get a second chance to make things right.
As he walked away, he couldn't shake the feeling that Y/N had left a lasting impression on him. He knew he had to see her again.
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roosterforme · 8 months
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Always Ever Only You Part 9 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: What are you supposed to do when you don't know how to talk to your husband? How is he supposed to love you and your body when you can't even figure out how to love yourself anymore? You watch Bradley leave for deployment. 
Warnings: Angst, sex, swearing
Length: 3700 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader
This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32
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When you woke up on the bathroom floor the morning after your promotion banquet, and remembered what happened, you started crying. Your dress whites had been so perfect and crisply pressed. The excitement for your new piece of hardwear had fueled you along. You had forgotten about how much you hated your body right now, at least for a few hours. 
Everything ached as you stood up and tried to stretch out all of the kinks you had from sleeping on the bath mat. Bradley was leaving tomorrow. He would be gone for eight weeks. And you didn't even want to leave this bathroom and see him right now. 
But when you opened the door, curious about what time it was and ready to pack your back and go home, you nearly tripped over your husband. He was sleeping on the floor outside the bathroom, curled up with a pillow and a sheet. You braced yourself on the doorway so you didn't fall. 
"Baby Girl," he croaked, his voice still hoarse.
Your eyes were stinging, and you felt miserable knowing he had slept on the floor, too. But he had ruined your night, and you didn't even want to have to listen to him apologize to you. 
"I want to go home," you informed him with a steady voice that betrayed how terrible you felt. 
"Can we talk about this?" he asked, getting to his feet and looking as miserable as you felt. "I wasn't trying to hurt you."
You just closed your eyes and shook your head. The sooner you got home, the sooner you could take a bath and change and start to feel better. "I don't want to talk about this right now."
He ran his hand over his face and swallowed hard, and you slipped past him to get your stuff together. 
You were back home by nine o'clock. Part of you wanted Bradley to vanish and leave you alone. The rest of you was panicking inside, because by this time tomorrow, he would be gone. And then what would you do? It might be weeks before he could call you. But even though you knew you needed to straighten things out right now, you just couldn't bring yourself to do it. 
So you sank down into a bubble bath while he muttered something about taking Tramp for a walk. Good. He was gone now. The house was quiet. And you were left alone to think about how out of control your emotions were. But you decided were allowed to be frustrated that your night got ruined, and you were allowed to be annoyed with Bradley. However, today was also your last chance to see him for two months. And you were ovulating. 
So you shaved your legs and got out of the bath. Then you tried to do your normal routine of drying off and applying lotion, but you could hear Bradley messing around in the bedroom. When you wrapped your towel around yourself and poked your head in, he looked up from his duffle bag. "Hi," he said softly. He had his underwear and some clothing in stacks on the dresser. He was packing to leave. 
You shifted your weight from foot to foot, your fingernails digging into your palms. Never had you ever, not even once, felt this awkward around him. It was disorienting and unsettling. You couldn't have imagined this if you tried. His brown eyes were sad and apologetic, but he seemed to be holding back what he wanted to say. And you were sure your expression was similar. 
You had no idea how to make any of this better. So you blurted out the first thing on your tongue. "You're right. We shouldn't be wasting time. And maybe there's something physically wrong with one of us, but maybe there's not. So I think we should have sex today. While I'm ovulating."
But Bradley didn't budge. He blinked at you and licked his lips. "I'm sorry I upset you. And I really don't know if having sex right now is the best idea, you know?"
It's not like you even wanted to. But you felt like you should. So you let your towel drop to the floor at your feet, because you knew it was impossible for Bradley to feel nothing when you were naked for him. 
His lips parted, his pupils went wide, and his breathing was ragged. "You really want to?"
"Yes," you said softly, lying to your husband even as he took a step closer to you. When his lips met yours, you turned your head so that his mustache skimmed along your neck instead. He kissed down to your shoulder, and it felt good. It always felt good. But you had to force yourself to lay out on the bed as he quickly undressed. 
When Bradley settled on top of you, he stroked his fingers along your slit and then met your eyes. You knew you weren't wet. You bit your lip and had to hold back your tears. 
"We don't have to-" 
"Yes," you said, cutting him off. "We do."
Once again, he looked like you'd physically hit him. He just nodded and brought his fingers up to his lips, coating them with his saliva and returning them to your core. You let your head tip back against the pillow and tried to think about your honeymoon or the way Bradley once gave you a hat trick. You tried to imagine being back in La Jolla. Anything sexy. But all you could think about was how desperately you wanted to see a positive pregnancy test. 
You hiccuped softly, squeezing your eyes shut as Bradley lined himself up with your opening and pushed himself inside you. He just needed to cum. The sooner the better. 
"You okay?" he asked, pushing himself deeper. 
You nodded, barely meeting his eyes. "Yeah."
And so he started to thrust as he kissed softly along your collar bones, but after a few minutes, you could tell he wasn't even as hard as he usually was. Tears stung your eyes. You couldn't do anything right. You couldn't get pregnant. And you couldn't keep your husband hard. You couldn't even seem to go five minutes without wanting to disappear into thin air. 
When Bradley met your eyes, he muttered, "Sorry." 
"It's probably my fault," you whispered, but he pressed his lips to yours and shook his head. 
"It's not, Sweetheart." But he had to bury his face against your neck and stroke himself with his right hand until he was hard enough to fuck you while you laid there beyond mortified. And the sound of his soft grunts as he came inside you was such a relief when you finally heard them, you sank back with your forearm over your eyes. 
Bradley didn't collapse in bed with you. He didn't snuggle up with you in his arms. You felt the bed dip as he climbed out and went into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. 
-------------------------
It was a long time before Bradley felt like he could walk back out into the bedroom and face you. What was happening here? He had fucked up last night. He knew that. He burst your bubble, tainted the delight you felt when you were being promoted. And he hated that he did that. He was proud of you, and he never wanted to disappoint you. But he'd just disappointed you again today. 
You were gone when he opened the door, and he felt relieved. Embarrassment washed over him again. He wasn't hard for you. He was always hard for you. Even at the most inopportune times, he was ready to go just thinking about you. He didn't even need to touch the porn they gave him when he jerked off to collect a sperm sample for testing. He just pulled up one of the videos you and he made on his phone and went to town. Two minutes of looking at your body and listening to your voice and he was filling up that little cup. 
"Fuck," he grunted, returning to his duffle bag instead of looking for you. Because he didn't even know what to say right now. Tears were collecting in his eyes as he packed his bag. His stomach was growling for lunch, but he didn't think he deserved to eat anything. 
As he put the finishing touches on his uniforms and flight suits, he finally tossed his bag aside. He wasn't even going to be here tomorrow. He needed to fix all of this right now. He hadn't told you he loved you all day, and you hadn't said it to him. Maybe starting there would be a good jumping off place to try to fix things. 
"Baby Girl?" he called out as he walked down the hallway into the kitchen. And he was treated to the sight of your beautiful body, gorgeous face and elegant hands. But you were holding the piece of mail he'd been trying in vain to hide all over the house. And when you met his eyes, you looked angry. 
"I can explain," he said, holding his hands up in surrender. But that just seemed to make you more upset.
"What the fuck, Bradley?" you asked, the paperwork shaking in your hand. "Were you going to tell me about this? Or just try to avoid all of it?"
"I-" he started before freezing up. Your face was righteous with anger in a way he'd never witnessed before, and he wished he could go back to yesterday and do everything right. 
Then your face melted into sadness. "You weren't going to say anything. Were you?" When he didn't respond, you screamed, "Were you?"
He watched you ball up the papers in your hands before you threw them at his chest with as much force as you could manage. He caught the paper ball, heart pounding and skin on fire. And then you rounded on him. "I can't believe you got your sperm tested without saying anything to me about it!"
He sucked in a deep breath. "I was just trying to help," he managed as angry tears flowed down your cheeks. When he took a step closer, you pressed your palms to his chest and pushed him back. 
"You didn't fucking help anything! It's all my fault that I can't get pregnant!"
"You don't know that," he said as you shoved him harder. "We don't know that."
You reached out and smacked the balled up paper out of his hand and shouted, "Yes! I do! It's actually my fault. It's a fact. I saw it right there on that paper! Your sperm is perfect. So my body must be fucked up!"
"Baby Girl," he gasped in agony. "Don't. Please." To him, you were perfect. And having a child really wasn't worth seeing you like this. Seeing how you'd been sinking in on yourself over the past few months. But maybe right now you weren't wrong. He didn't even know anymore. 
"And you were just hiding the results from me?" you asked, your voice still shaking with rage. "Blaming me quietly?"
"I'm not blaming you for anything!" he said, louder than he anticipated. His voice boomed through the kitchen, and you looked up at him like you didn't even know who he was. Even Tramp had run for cover by this point. 
"That's okay," you whispered, your eyes unwavering even though they were filled with tears. "I'm blaming myself enough for both of us."
He looked at the floor. There was nothing he could do to fix any of this now. And you were literally the last person he wanted to disappoint. As he raked his fingers through his hair, he whispered, "Maybe it's a good thing that I'm going away tomorrow."
He heard you sob as you kicked the sperm test results across the room and stormed down the hallway. 
You were in bed the rest of the afternoon, and Bradley wasn't sure if you were asleep or not. So he avoided the room altogether as he wallowed in this pain that he brought on himself. And on you.
-------------------------
You cried in bed for so long all afternoon, you must have fallen asleep at some point. Bradley's sperm was perfect. It was of higher quality than 95% of men in their mid-thirties. It was ideal for impregnation. The most desirable quality you could imagine. 
And you kept imagining it. He'd come inside you hundreds of times. Thousands of times. Countless times. Even since November, he'd put his Grade A sperm inside you more times than you could possibly keep track of.
So, this was your fault. And now you knew it. You tried for hours to think about work or your friends or even the fact that you should have been able to go to brunch this morning to gush about your promotion banquet. But everything was turning to shit now. It was probably time to think about alternate options. Or consider just giving up completely. 
But why should Bradley have to give up his dream of being a dad just because you weren't able to give him what he wanted? You couldn't be that selfish. As sleep overtook you, disturbing and hurtful ideas filled your mind. You were vaguely aware of Bradley in the room as the afternoon light got dimmer. You could hear him put something in your nightstand. You heard the zipper on his duffle. But you couldn't open your eyes through the haze of pain and exhaustion. 
When you jerked awake in your pitch black bedroom, you heard Bradley's voice next to you. "Are you okay, Sweetheart?" 
You reached for your phone. It was after eleven o'clock. He'd plugged it in for you. He must have gotten himself dinner and taken Tramp out and finished packing for his deployment. 
And then your heart sank as you reached for him. Bradley laced his fingers with yours, and you squeezed your eyes shut at how good it felt to simply hold his hand. 
"I don't know," you whispered, because you weren't really sure. Bradley brought your hand up to his mouth and kissed your fingers. You sighed against the sensation of his mustache on your body. You wanted to keep this feeling alive. This little glimmer of hope. But you muttered, "It's late. Go to sleep," as you withdrew your hand and rolled onto your side.
He was silent for so long, you weren't sure if he was still awake. Finally he said, "I hate leaving you more than I hate anything else. But we'll figure this out. I love you."
But instead of responding, you let him doze. When you both woke up at five to the sound of his alarm blaring, there were several feet of space between your body and his in the king sized bed. You felt like absolute shit. It was hard to breathe as you watched Bradley climb out of bed and head for the bathroom. You knew everything he was going to do: shower, shave around his mustache, apply deodorant. But you didn't want to see it. You went into the kitchen where you had all of the ingredients to make him heart shaped pancakes and strawberries. But you didn't want to make them. 
Instead you made some French press coffee and cried softly. You took a few sips and felt like you were going to throw up. You tried to eat a granola bar, but you gagged. You had forty one minutes until the Admirals would start calling everyone aboard the aircraft carrier. Less than an hour until your husband would be away for two months. But even when he cautiously walked into the kitchen in his uniform with his duffle bag, you still couldn't quite formulate what you wanted to say to him.
Because maybe he was right. Maybe you and he needed to spend some time apart. You hated yourself and your body, so how did you expect him to love you right now? And you resented him for the decisions he was making and the things he was saying to you. It felt like he didn't understand how it feels to be you. And then you laughed darkly, because of course he didn't. And you were doing a shitty job of describing it to him. A horrible job of communicating with him in general.
"Let's go," you said, heading for the front door in the old lounge pants and shirt you'd slept in. You felt disgusting, so you might as well just look disgusting, too. 
But he headed you off, keeping his hand on the doorknob so you couldn't turn it. "I can't go until I know you're listening to what I have to say."
"What?" you snapped, because that was just a lie. He'd be leaving shortly even if you refused to listen or drive him there. That was just a fact. 
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to ruin your night. I didn't mean to hide the test results from you."
"But you did," you whispered harshly. "On both accounts."
"I know," he said solemnly, reaching for you before dropping his hand to his side. "And I'm sick over it. But this doesn't mean there's anything wrong with you or that I'm perfect. And we can keep trying as soon as I get home, okay?"
"If I even feel like it," you sobbed, pushing his hand out of the way and wrenching the door open. "If you even want to. If you can even stay hard for me." 
"Sweetheart!" he called out, running after you as you got into the driver's seat of your car. You'd drop him off in this one instead of the Bronco, just because it would irritate him. 
You were turning the key and shifting into reverse before he even had his door closed. You wanted him gone. Now. You needed the silence of the house without him in it. Keeping your tears at bay was impossible, but at least the drive was quiet. Bradley had his hand over his eyes, and his head was tipped back. You saw the way his Adam's apple worked against his neck as he swallowed hard, but you didn't say anything to ease his mind. If you had to feel bad, then so did he. 
You made it to the docks in just a few minutes, and you were out of the car right away. You saw Bob and Nat on the dock, waving and waiting for the two of you, but you just couldn't go over there. You didn't want to see them or have to explain why the two of you were miserable. 
As you turned to face your husband, you were shaking with tears, and so was he. There was just a foot of space between you, but you hesitated. And it was clear to him that you didn't know what to do. So he just stood there and wiped at his eyes, shaking his head.
"This is not how I wanted to leave things between us," he rasped, and you looked down at the ground. He was the one who kept telling you he wanted to talk, but you kept shutting him out. 
When you opened your mouth to try to tell him that you still loved him, he held up his hand to stop you.
"You deserved more than what I gave you, okay?" he whispered, and your tears just came faster. "You deserved the world, and clearly I wasn't delivering on all of my promises. At the end of the day, if I'm the one responsible for all of your tears, then what fucking good am I as your husband?"
"Bradley," you croaked, sucking in a deep breath. 
But he just kept going, even though whistles were blowing and his squadron was being called. "I love you so much. I'm always going to. And I'm sorry I'm leaving you like this. I should have tried harder, because you are everything."
Your heart was breaking as he wrapped one big hand around the back of your neck and kissed your forehead. You tried to say his name again, but nothing would come out except a wretched sounding sob. So you reached for him and kissed his lips softly. But then he was pulling away, and you felt bile in your throat. 
"I love you." Your voice was so soft and broken, you weren't sure if he heard you. As he joined Nat and Bob, you cried next to your car, overwhelmed by the feeling of finality. You stayed until he boarded the carrier, but then you climbed behind the steering wheel again. You needed to go to work. You needed to go home and change first. When you tried to start the engine, your fingers fumbled the keys. After three tries you screamed and pounded on the steering wheel with your fists. 
Your heart was broken, and now you had nothing to show for it except some bruised hands. But as you finally got the car started and headed home, you thought to yourself that at least your day couldn't get worse. 
That was just wishful thinking on your part. As soon as you walked inside your bedroom with the intention of taking a hot shower, your eyes caught on something gold on Bradley's nightstand. He had left his wedding band. He never took it off. You couldn't recall a single time he had removed it since you slipped it on his finger last November. 
It was cold to the touch when you picked it up. It was supposed to feel warm from being on his finger. You wanted to call him and demand an answer as to why he was going away on a deployment without his wedding band, but you were too scared to hear the answer. And as his words came flooding back, you climbed into bed with the ring held tight in your sore fist. 
You deserved more than what I gave you.
Bradley deserved more, too.
----------------------------
Well. Now they are both on their own for two months. And I hurt my own feelings. Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 10
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741 notes · View notes
obxologies · 11 months
Note
a request if u want tooo🥺 i really like dark rafe cameron i need one where he broke up with her because he is scared to love but she walks on weird dudes trying to as*ault her and he just goes crazy because he realises he really love her
𝘈𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨  𝘙𝘢𝘧𝘦 𝘊𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘰𝘯
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warnings: soft dark!rafe cameron, attempted sexual assault (not by rafe), physical violence, (soft?) angst, a little manipulation
requested?: yes
author's note: i actually had an idea similar to this so i added in a little of my own details, i hope you still like it. if you guys want more dark!character fics, i won't stop you from requesting 👀. dividers made by @cafekitsune
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Tanneyhill was overcrowded with teenagers as music blared from every speaker in the house. The back doors were wide open as people went in and out.
Sarah and y/n held hands as they pushed their way to the backyard. Sarah led them to a small area where the could talk alone.
"So, see anyone you like?" Sarah asked y/n as they observed the people around them. "I saw your man from World History inside. What about him?"
"Eh," y/n shrugged uninterested in the boy. "He's cute, but he's unimaginable stupid."
"Okay." Sarah laughed at her. "Well, we need to find you someone. We didn't throw this for not to get laid." She smirked a little making y/n roll her eyes.
Someone cleared their throat behind them. They both turned to see Rafe with Topper and Kelce. y/n rolled her eyes and turned back around while Sarah groaned.
"Why are you here, Rafe?" Sarah asked. "I thought you three were having a sleepover." Rafe rolled his eyes.
"We came back here instead." Rafe shrugged. "Didn't know we'd be crashing a party." He said staring at y/n's back.
"So leave then." Sarah gave him a fake smile and turned back around.
"I think we'll stay actually." Rafe said slowly walking away with Topper and Kelce.
"God, he's annoying." Sarah huffed. "Sorry, he was supposed to be gone until tomorrow." She gave her a 'sorry' smile.
"Don't worry about it." y/n shook her head. "Just help me get to him." She nodded towards a boy who sat by the fire pit with a friend of theirs.
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Rafe leaned against the wall as he watched y/n and the boy she had just met talk on the couch. She was practically sitting on his lap as she threw back her drink. She had clearly had one too many while trying to loosen herself up. Rafe's blood started to boil as the boy's hand moved to her thigh and slowly up.
"Can you not stare at them like a creeper?" Sarah snapped at Rafe. He peeled his eyes away from the scene in front of him. "You broke up with her, remember?"
"Yeah, I remember." Rafe stated through gritted teeth.
"Then why are you stalking her?" Sarah shrugged crossing her arms.
"I'm making sure she's okay." Rafe said. "Do you even know who that guy is?"
"Our friend knows him." Sarah told him. "His name is Cooper."
"Yeah, I know." Rafe huffed. "He's Logan Foreman's younger brother."
"Am I supposed to know who that is?" Sarah furrowed her brows.
"He's an asshole who treats girls like shit." Rafe told her.
"Oh, and you've never mistreated a girl?" Sarah tilted her head at him. "Can you just admit you're jealous and leave them be?" Sarah laughed. "It's pathetic, Rafe."
"Where did they go?" Rafe stood up straight from putting all his weight against the wall.
"Jesus, Rafe! You're like a guard dog." Sarah scoffed before walking away.
Rafe ignored her comment looking around the house for y/n. He whipped his head around and caught a glimpse of y/n drunkenly stumbling down a hallway while Cooper had his hand wrapped around her wrist; dragging her to a guest bedroom. Rafe immediately started pushing people to get to the stairs.
"Rafe! Stop!" Sarah shouted. "You're so controlling!" She hurried after him, wishing everyone would move out of the way.
Rafe cursed under his breath at the, what felt like, unnecessary amount of stairs. For he once he didn't appreciate having such a big house. He pushed open every door most of them, fortunately, being empty. The only door locked was the last one at the end of the hallway. He started banging his fist on the door.
"Someone's in here!" He heard Cooper shouted from inside only adding fuel to the fire.
Rafe stepped back before throwing his body into the door. He huffed and reeled his leg back, kicking the wooden door open. He stomped inside the room seeing Cooper on top of y/n who was confused, attempting to push him off of her.
"Mother Fucker." Rafe spat charging towards Cooper. He grabbed the back of his shirt getting him off of her. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" Rafe grabbed him roughly making him face him. "You think I was gonna let you get away with that?"
"She's not your girl anymore, Cameron." Cooper chuckled, but was cut off my Rafe swinging at him. His fist connecting directly to his jaw.
"I'm gonna fucking kill you." Rafe kicked his legs out from underneath him before getting on top of him and beginning to pummel his fist into his face. Cooper's blood poured out of his nose and mouth onto Rafe's fist and the floor.
"Oh my god," Sarah exclaimed seeing Rafe. Topper and Kelce ran into the room going to pull Rafe off of Cooper. "y/n!" She ran to the bed sitting next to her.
"Sarah.." y/n grabbed her hand. Her brain still fuzzy from the liquor, but being more alert now.
"It's me." Sarah nodded. "I'm so sorry. It's gonna be okay." She let y/n lean into her. She wrapped her arms around her tight. Tears welled in her eyes feeling slightly responsible for the situation. "I'm sorry."
y/n only scooted as close to Sarah as she could. The feeling of her arms around her and her hand stroking her head making her feel safe again.
"Rafe! Man, stop!" Topper and Kelce shouted using all their strength to pull Rafe off the boy before he killed him.
Cooper coughed, blooding splashing onto the floor.
The room fell almost completely silent. The only noises being heard was the boys heavy breathing, Cooper's whining, and Sarah's sniffling.
"Get everyone out." Rafe instructed Topper and Kelce. They looked at Sarah who nodded before they walked out the room. "Make sure she's okay." Rafe looked at Sarah. His stare was hard, telling Sarah he was blaming her.
"I will." Sarah nodded.
Rafe grabbed Cooper and pulled him up. The boy groaned and struggled against his grip, but Rafe was still able to drag the boy away.
"I'm so sorry, y/n." Sarah leaned her forehead against hers.
"It's not your fault." y/n whispered. "Just keeping holding me, please."
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y/n laid in Sarah's bed in a pair of comfy clothes she had left before. She stared at the tv not really paying attention to the show as Sarah was in her bathroom showering.
The bedroom door opened making y/n sit up. She relaxed a little upon seeing Rafe. He quietly closed the door as walked over the side of the bed.
"Hi?" y/n said softly. She moved letting her feet hang off the side.
"Are you okay?" Rafe asked sitting beside her.
"Yeah." She nodded looking at him shyly. "Thank you."
"I would never let anyone hurt you." Rafe said. "Together or not. I won't let anyone touch you."
y/n gave him a small smile before looking down at her feet.
"I wanna get back together, baby." Rafe said. He got down on his knees in front of her so her thighs were on either side of him.
"Rafe..." y/n sighed. "You're just saying that because you're worried. You don't love me." She shook her head.
"I love you more than anything else in the world, baby." Rafe grabbed her face in his hands. "I thought letting you go would protect you, but I now know the only way you'll be safest is with me."
"What?" y/n scrunched her brows.
"You can't do things like this anymore. You have to stay with me. You saw what happened tonight when I let you go on your own. What if I wasn't here?" Rafe explained. "You have to stay with me, okay?"
"Okay." y/n nodded slowly.
Rafe smiled getting up off his knees. He leaned down kissing her forehead. "Stay with Sarah tonight. I'll see you in the morning."
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dwobbitfromtheshire · 6 months
Text
Eddie has strong feelings for Steve. Feelings he thought he had gotten rid of once Steve rescued him from hell. His hatred of him didn't even make sense, even before all of this. So, because he's a jock he has to be a jerk like all the rest? Eddie had made an assumption about him and Lucas just like they made about him. He hated that he had done that. It hadn't been his proudest moment. Now, those frustrating feelings are resurfacing, which is ridiculous because not only is he a good guy, but he is also a complete dork as well and he's so fucking great with the kids. He should be happy that he's friends with him, so why does his stomach feel like there's a bird trying to get out of its cage when he looks at Steve?
"Eddie, man, why are you scowling at me?" Steve asked.
He was hanging out with Steve, Robin, and Robin's girlfriend, Vickie. It was supposed to be a nice, casual get-together. Of course, Eddie had to ruin it.
"I hate you!" Eddie burst out.
There was silence in the living room as everyone stared at him. Steve looked hurt. Robin looked angry, and if Vickie wasn't holding her back, Eddie was sure she would rip out his throat with her bare hands.
"What?" Steve asked.
"It doesn't make any sense why I do, though!" Eddie burst out. "Because you're a great guy! Fantastic even! When I look at you, I get these feelings in my chest that annoy the fucking shit out of me. Everything about you is so fucking perfect like a goddamn prince out of a storybook! With your perfect hair, your perfect eyes, and your perfect teeth. My God, you're even great with the kids! When you talk about going out on dates, I hate that, too! I know you're just trying to do that to get over Nancy. Speaking of Nancy, I like her and all, but when I think about you two together, it makes my fucking skin scrawl! What the fuck is that? I mean, I like Nancy, but fuck, the idea of you two together makes me want to rip off my own eyebrows and eat them! Jesus H Christ! There's no reason for me to hate you, and yet somehow . . . Wait, why are you guys laughing?"
Vickie was giggling into Robin's shoulder while Robin laughed into a pillow. Steve was laughing with his hands over his eyes.
"He's so cute!" Vickie laughed.
"Why are you guys laughing at me?" Eddie asked. "Stop it!"
"You poor Dingus!" Robin laughed.
"What?!" Eddie asked.
"You like me, Eddie," Steve said.
"Yeah, I like you, but I also seem to hate you," he sighed.
"No, I mean, you like me," Steve said, standing up.
"You said that already," Eddie replied.
"Alright, can I do something so I can get my point across?" Steve asked.
"Yeah, do whatever you want to me, man," Eddie said and Steve grinned widely.
"Within reason, Steven!" Robin exclaimed.
Steve cupped his face and kissed him. Eddie gasped, a jolt of what felt like electricity shot through him. He liked it. The kiss was short and to the point. Steve pulled away.
"Oh, I like you! Oh, thank God! I thought I hated you! Wait, am I gay? No, I still like like girls. . .hold on, give me a minute," Eddie said, raising his finger to do invisible math in the air.
"You like this man, Steve?" Robin asked as they watched Eddie erase something.
"Oh, yeah," Steve replied.
"I've never actually seen someone figure out their sexuality before," Vickie said.
"Oh, I had a chance to do that with Steve. It was a wonderful experience. Definitely a lot less stupid than this," Robin said.
"I like both!" Eddie exclaimed, clapping his hands together. "And I like you!"
"I like both too, Eddie, and I like you too," Steve laughed. "I'm bisexual."
"Bi - sex - u - al," Eddie said like, drawing out the words, and he shook his head from side to side as if rolling the word around in his head. "Yes! Me too! Bisexual! Does this mean this is a double date now?"
Steve grinned, sat down on the love seat, and pulled him into his lap.
"Definitely," Steve said.
"Let me tell you, I feel this huge relief now that I know I like you," Eddie said. "I can't believe I thought I hated you!"
"Dingus!" Robin giggled.
"How long are you guys going to laugh at me about this?" Eddie pouted as Steve shook with laughter beneath him.
"Forever!"
Eddie buried his head into Steve’s neck as he laughed with them, sighing in contentment when Steve kissed his forehead.
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wolfiesmoon · 2 months
Text
Deal or no deal
Azul x gn!reader
finally writing for my baby boy azul, i can't believe it took this long since i am an azul girlie myself
a very funny silly definitely innocent business man methinks
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"First, tell me what you desire. We can take it from there." Azul smiled slyly, interlocking his hands as he leaned on his elbows.
You were currently located in his private office, about to sign a contract with him. You had to think long and hard about coming to him, but you figured that if anyone can fulfill your wish, it would be Azul. You feel kind of guilty asking him for this in the first place.
You see, you've been in love with Azul for a good amount of time now, but are too afraid to make a move. You beat yourself up for being such a coward every day, and even moreso right now because you're about to ask him if he can make "someone you've had your eye on" fall in love with you. You're not sure what exactly he does to make it happen, but you hope it's doable without much instructions on your end. Desperate times call for desperate measures.
Though you still feel like a bit of a villain for doing this at all.
Your guilt and nerves are probably showing in your body language, too. Which you suppose only makes Azul more interested in learning what you desire. You can practically feel the grins on the Leech twin's faces, too. It's like they genuinely like seeing you nervous and scared.
Why are they even here, anyways?
"I want... someone to fall in love with me. Someone who I've had my eye on for a while now." you fidget with your fingers, unable to look Azul in the eye when you say this.
"That's..." he tried his best to hold back from laughing but a snort escaped from his lips anyways. "Forgive the reaction, your wish was just... unexpected."
You suppose he thought your wish would be more sinister because of your body language. Or way more embarrasing. But still...
"Ehhhh, I didn't know Shrimpy was in love..." Floyd's eyes were slightly widened but his creepy grin was still as wide as ever. "It is quite surprising, indeed." Jade added on. By the suspicously calm way they're acting, you have no idea if the twins already know about your little crush and are just acting along or if they're actually surprised.
"Yeah, uhhh, I guess that's it?..." you had no idea what else to tell him. You just hope that this can be over as soon as possible since things are getting really awkward.
"I can certainly do something for you. Tell me, what is their name? They attend this school, I assume." Azul seemed delighted. Probably because that means he'll get free labour from you as a collateral. You don't have any magic to offer him, after all.
"T... their name? Is that required?" You froze up. There's no way you can say that. That would be the worst way for your feelings to get outed, ever. You suppose it makes sense, though. He can't do anything if he doesn't know who you're in love with.
"But of course it is. Don't worry, judgement has no place in business affairs." He smiled reassuringly at you. You felt your face heat up. No, no, nope. You can't do this. Not like this.
"You know what.... Never mind. I can't do it." You abruptly stood up from the cushy office chair, apologising curtly before practically bolting out of his office.
"Oh my god, that was so bad... oh my god..." you mumbled to yourself when you were out of Octavinelle. You just royally embarrased yourself in front of your crush.
Was it obvious?
.
"What was that about?" Floyd pouted at the direction of the door, which you left slightly ajar in your panic to escape the situation as soon as possible.
"Hmmm... how odd." Jade looked deep in thought about something.
"This is why I tell you to stop coming to my office when I'm trying to make a deal. You scared the poor thing off." Azul shook his head dissaprovingly.
"That wasn't our fault. Shrimpy was acting super weird the whole time anyways." Floyd defended himself and his brother.
"I suppose you're right..." Azul took a deep breath, seemingly... relieved? Not about the fact you ran away, but still relieved for some reason.
Jade made a realisation. "Oh. I see. I see."
He smiled knowingly at Azul, who raised a brow. "What is it? Is there something on my face?"
"No, it's nothing. Don't worry."
Azul gets the feeling that Jade knows something, but doesn't want to tell him.
"If you say so."
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mypoisonedvine · 9 months
Note
Drabble Idea: Judge Crane decides to give his obsession a third option. Death, exile, or…….
You know he would use his position in order to get his crush all to himself while Gotham burns.
YES OMG SOME LOVE FOR JUDGE CRANE he's so underrated and I actually lost it when I saw the movies in theaters and he popped up <3 like omg look it's my husband
warnings: coercion, ownership, threats of noncon, yandere vibes
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"You can't be serious," you mumbled, but you knew he was-- Dr. Crane wasn't an especially humorous guy, that whole death by exile bit from earlier notwithstanding.
He still smiled at you, though; "It's your choice."
"Well, it's not much of a choice, is it?" you scoffed.
"It's a better choice than anybody else got," Jonathan shrugged, "if you do choose exile, I'm sure these guys would love to give you a nice send-off-- right, boys?"
You didn't even have the heart to look back at the thugs who had dragged you in here, but you heard them chuckling and mumbling amongst themselves. Crane had made his message clear, and you let out a sigh of defeat. "Fine," you said.
"Fine?" he repeated. "What's that mean, you'll just die?"
"No, I--"
"You know, you said once you'd rather die than marry me, do you remember that?" He laughed. But that was years ago, when your father tried to set you up with him because he was a respected doctor and you were a nice young socialite-- it was more about rebellion than anything else then, but learning about his insanity and criminal activities wasn't exactly changing your mind.
"I was wrong," you admitted, "alright? I'm sorry."
He smiled again, a little more sinister than the last time. "Then you can wait for me with the others... sweetheart."
~
The huddled mass of the 'arrested' dwindled through the day, executives and politicians dragged up the stairs to meet their fate as determined by Crane; soon it was only half or less left behind, with you simply counting the minutes until you'd be taken-- you couldn't imagine what life would be like with Jonathan, and for now, you tried not to.
He came for you at the end of the day, standing above you and smiling down as you stayed sitting on the ground, leaning against a pillar and waiting for whatever he asked you to do. "I'm not sure what I'm supposed to say," he admitted as he stared at you. "Hi honey, I'm home or something?"
"You don't actually sleep here, do you?" you frowned.
"No, no-- I believe in work-life balance," he shook his head; then reached his hand out to help you up. "Come on, let's go home."
Though you hesitated, you took his hand and let him help you to your feet with a wince.
"Are you alright?" he asked, seeing the pain on your face.
"They kinda roughed me up," you admitted quietly, though your breath caught when Jonathan pulled you closer.
"Poor thing," he mumbled, petting your cheek briefly, holding your waist a little tighter. "And having to sit on this hard floor all day-- you must be sore, hm?"
You nodded slightly, though you felt strange talking to him like this-- like it was a normal conversation, and not something you had to do to keep yourself safe. If being with him could really be considered 'safe'...
"I can write you a script if you're in too much pain," he offered, "but I think you just need some rest: somewhere warm, a nice big bed..."
He leaned in closer as he trailed off, taking a deep breath beside your head as he rubbed your back. Though he must have noticed the way you tensed up and nearly pulled away, it didn't deter him.
"I'll be good to you," he promised, "if you just behave. You don't need to be so afraid of me."
But you could hear the excitement in his voice; he liked that you were afraid of him. Finally, he had the power over you that you'd denied him all those years ago. No matter how sweet he promised to be, one way or another, he was going to make you pay for that.
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totaly-obsessed · 2 months
Text
Big Shoes to fill
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Leah Williamson x reader request
pt. 1 here
-> Leah invites her struggling sister to live with her in London, where they support each other through healing and new friendships.
-> A very late pt.2. Please let me know what you think of it! If ya'll are interested I could make a pt.3 of reader meeting the team.
-> Just tagging you guys because you asked for a pt.2 in the comments of pt.1: @the-nameless-queen, @the-hottest-avenger-loves-soccer, @abcdefghijklmmopkrstuvwxyz
-> also a very big thank you to @alotofpockets and @greynatomy who read over it for me and helped with ideas - much love!
➳ Masterlist
•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•
Leah sat there, stunned by the weight of her sister's words. She had always known that things weren't easy for you, but she never imagined the extent of the struggles you faced. The guilt of not being there for her little sister when she needed her the most washed over the footballer like a tidal wave.
"I'm so sorry, Bug," Leah whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "I had no idea you were going through all of this alone."
You shrugged, trying to downplay the situation, ignoring the shame that showed in the redness of your face. "It's okay, Lee. I didn't want to burden you with my problems."
Leah shook her head, tears still streaming down her cheeks. "No, it's not okay. I should have been there for you. I should have noticed. I'm supposed to be your big sister, for God's sake."
You reached out and took Leah's hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "You're here now, that's what matters."
Leah sniffled, trying to compose herself. "I promise, things are going to change. I'll talk to Mom and Dad, and we'll figure this out together."
You managed a small smile, feeling a glimmer of hope for the first time in a long while. "Thanks, Lee. "I appreciate it."
Leah pulled you into a tight hug, holding onto you as if she never wanted to let go. "I love you, Bug. I'll always be here for you, no matter what."
And in that moment, as the rain continued to fall outside, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you wouldn't have to face them alone. With Leah by your side, you felt stronger than ever before. And together, you were ready to take on whatever life threw your way.
When she was back in London and your parents were home again,  Leah couldn't shake the feeling of responsibility that weighed heavily on her shoulders. She knew she couldn't let her sister continue to struggle alone, not when she finally understood the depth of your pain. After numerous conversations with her parents, Leah made a decision.
"Bug, I want you to come live with me in London," Leah said one evening when you were staying with her after watching an Arsenal game, her voice filled with determination.
You blinked in surprise, not expecting such a sudden idea. "But what about Mom and Dad? Won't they be worried?"
Leah shook her head. "They understand, they want what's best for you, and right now, that means being with someone who can support you fully."
A mixture of emotions washed over you, uncertainty mingled with relief. The thought of leaving your childhood home was daunting, but the prospect of starting fresh in a new environment with your sister by your side was undeniably appealing.
"I don't know, Leah. What about your life here? Your career?" you asked, concerned about uprooting your sister's life for your sake.
Leah smiled reassuringly. "My career doesn’t need to stop. You're my family, and family comes first. Plus, I could use some company in this big old house of mine."
Unbeknownst to you, she actually wasn’t all that alone in her house, a certain brunette spent most of her time there as well.
Tears welled up in your eyes as you realized the depth of Leah's love and sacrifice for you. "Thank you, Leah. I don't know what I'd do without you."
Leah pulled you into a warm embrace, holding you close. "You'll never have to find out, Bug. We're in this together."
And so, with the support of your parents and the unwavering love of your sister, you packed your bags and prepared to embark on a new chapter in London. As you looked out the window of the car, watching the familiar scenery of your hometown fade into the distance, you felt a sense of excitement and anticipation for the adventures that lay ahead with your sister by your side.
Things were finally looking up.
Leah steered her car through the familiar streets of London, eventually turning onto a quieter road lined with rows of cozy houses. The neighborhood exuded a sense of tranquility, a stark contrast to the bustling city center. As Leah parked the car in the driveway of her quaint home, you couldn't help but feel a sense of relief wash over you.
Stepping out of the car, you stretched your limbs and took in the familiar surroundings. Leah's house, though not extravagant, emanated a sense of warmth and comfort that immediately put you at ease. The exterior was adorned with climbing ivy and cheerful flower beds, adding a touch of charm to the neighborhood.
With your bags in hand, you followed Leah up the front steps and through the front door. The air inside was filled with the comforting scent of your sister and well-loved furniture that you remember from her old room. The living room greeted you with plush couches arranged around a cozy fireplace, inviting you to sink into their embrace.
It’s surprisingly tidy here, but you could make out two empty cups on the coffee table, an arsenal sweatshirt with a 13 on it, and so many sneakers by the door, that they couldn’t just be Leah’s.
"Here we are," Leah said, turning to you with a smile. "Home sweet home."
You returned her smile, feeling a sense of gratitude for the familiar surroundings. "It's perfect, Leah. Thank you for inviting me."
Leah's smile widened as she led you through the house, showing you to your temporary room. The space was simple but inviting, with a comfortable bed and a large window overlooking the lush backyard. Of course, a little goal was set up. Was this even Leah’s home if there was no goal?
The first day with Leah was a whirlwind of emotions and new experiences. As you woke up in her cozy home, sunlight filtering through the curtains, you couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the warmth and comfort of your surroundings. This felt more like home than the place you had grown up in.
Downstairs, Leah greeted you with a warm smile and a hearty breakfast (the only thing she was confidently able to make), eager to show you around her neighborhood and introduce you to her favorite spots. Together, you explored the quaint streets, stopping to chat with neighbors and browse through local shops before getting a snack in a quaint little café.
With a “Lia always takes the croissant, they’re good.”, you had been convinced easily enough. And the Swiss was correct, the croissants were indeed very good.
Throughout the day, Leah made sure you felt right at home, regaling you with stories from her own adventures in the city and sharing her favorite memories of growing up together. With each passing hour, you felt more and more at ease in your sister’s company, grateful for her unwavering support and understanding.
As the day drew to a close, you found yourself curled up on the couch with Leah, sipping hot tea and sharing laughs over stories of her teammates. In that moment, surrounded by the warmth and love of your sister, you knew that you were exactly where you were meant to be.
But it would not be life if things didn't get worse again.
As the days turned into weeks, you found yourself slipping deeper into the shadows of your own mind. Despite Leah's best efforts to create a loving and supportive environment, the wounds from your past continued to fester, leaving you feeling lost and alone.
Trauma and abandonment issues weighed heavily on your soul, casting a dark shadow over even the brightest moments you shared with your sister. The memories of being ostracized and bullied at school haunted you, triggering waves of anxiety and self-doubt that seemed impossible to overcome.
Leah watched with a heavy heart as you retreated further into yourself, the light in your eyes dimming with each passing day. She tried to offer words of comfort and encouragement, but they seemed to fall on deaf ears, lost in the endless void of your pain.
It hurts to see you suffer, not knowing how to help. So she chose to confront you after talking to Lia in depth about it, not knowing what to do. She ended up seeking a conversation on how to change things, on how to help you. Together, you found a therapist who specializes in childhood trauma and abandonment issues, hoping that they could provide you with the support and guidance you so desperately needed.
As you began your journey towards healing, your sister remained by your side every step of the way, offering a steady hand to hold onto in the darkest of times. Slowly but surely, you started to unravel the tangled web of emotions that had ensnared your heart, finding solace in the love and support of your family.
When the new school year started you were deemed well enough to start at the new school. Leah had asked if you wanted to do online school instead, but both your therapist and you didn’t think that to be a good idea. 
The transition to a new school was daunting and filled with uncertainty and anxiety. You couldn't shake the memories of past experiences, the taunts and jeers of classmates echoing in your mind like a cruel refrain. But as you stepped into the halls of your new school, you were met with a surprising kindness that took you off guard.
The kids here were different. They didn't make fun of you or hurl insults your way. Instead, they greeted you with smiles and open arms, eager to welcome you into their midst. It was a stark contrast to the hostile environment you had grown accustomed to, and it filled you with a sense of relief and gratitude.
As time went by, you found yourself slowly but surely coming out of your shell, emboldened by the kindness and acceptance of your peers. You made new friends, shared laughs, and discovered a sense of belonging that you had never known before.
Leah watched with pride as you flourished in your new environment, her heart swelling with joy at the sight of your radiant smile. She knew that the road ahead would still be challenging, filled with ups and downs, but she also knew that you were strong enough to face whatever came your way.
When one day you came home telling her all about two new girls you met, she was so ecstatic that she couldn’t help but cry about it to the Swiss brunette who had a permanent spot at your dinner table. The blonde had refrained from taking you to training as of now, leaving you space to breathe and be alone. With that you couldn’t just call Kyra and Alessia your friends and call it a day, you needed your own.
After spending weeks bonding with Charlie and Mia, you couldn't wait to introduce them to your sister Leah. One afternoon, you invited them over to Leah's house for a casual hangout, eager to share your newfound friendships with her.
As Charlie and Mia arrived at Leah's doorstep, you greeted them with a smile and led them inside. Leah welcomed them warmly, offering snacks (that you had made) and drinks as the four of you settled into the cozy living room. They wanted to get to know the sister you couldn’t shut up about.
You watched nervously as Charlie and Mia chatted with Leah, hoping that they would hit it off. To your relief, the conversation flowed easily, with laughter filling the room as they exchanged stories and shared jokes.
"So, how did you two meet?" your sister asked, her eyes flickering between them.
Charlie, a vibrant and outgoing girl, grinned and began the story. "Well, Mia and I actually met in our science class. We were paired up for a project, and the rest is history."
Mia nodded, chiming in, "Yeah, Charlie swooped in to save the day when I accidentally mixed up my chemicals. She's been my lab partner and best friend ever since."
Leah chuckled, nodding in understanding. "It sounds like you two make a great team."
You couldn't help but jump in, eager to share your own thoughts. "They really do. Charlie and Mia have been amazing friends to me since I started at this new school."
Leah's eyes softened as she turned her attention to you. "That's wonderful to hear, Bug. I'm so glad you've found some great friends."
You nodded, feeling a surge of gratitude for your sister's support, and thanks to your therapy, you were not afraid to tell them. "Yeah, they've been really supportive. And it's nice to have them here with you."
Leah smiled, her gaze shifting between the three of you. "Well, you're all welcome here anytime. It's nice to see you so happy, Bug."
A couple of days later Leah came home from training to you making dinner in the kitchen. Instead of sitting down or waiting she stood in the doorway joking about your apron. Conversation in the middle of doing something was always the best.
As the conversation flowed effortlessly among you, Leah's eyes sparkled with an idea. "You know, Bug, my teammates have been asking about you. They've heard so much about my little sister and they're dying to meet you."
Your heart skipped a beat at Leah's suggestion. Meeting Leah's teammates felt like a significant step, a symbol of how far you'd come since arriving in London. The thought both excited and intimidated you.
Leah must have noticed the mix of emotions flickering across your face because she quickly added, "But only if you're comfortable with it. I don't want to pressure you into anything."
She knew that you had talked to most of them before. But it had always been brief and at the side of the pitch, signing a shirt for you and taking a picture. Aside from Lia, who had been at the house just the evening prior.
You took a moment to consider Leah's offer, the warmth of her support comforting you. With a newfound sense of confidence, you nodded eagerly. "I'd love to meet them, Leah. It sounds like fun."
Leah's smile widened, and she reached out to squeeze your hand. "Great! I'll arrange a get-together with the team. I know they'll love you just as much as I do."
Meeting her teammates felt like the next natural step in your journey of growth and self-discovery, and you were ready to embrace it with open arms.
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wileys-russo · 6 months
Text
kiss and make up II a.russo x unc!reader
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gif credits to @russogifs & @ohgrays
request - unc era remains her most powerful & my all time fave. kiss and make up II a.russo
you glanced up from your book hearing a knock on your dorm room door, repeated by a few more impatient knocks when you didn't answer in five seconds, only confirming you knew who was there before you even opened it.
"go away!" you called out, not moving from your place on your bed with a roll of your eyes. "babe come on, open the door." a familiar english accent called out, the girl knocking again as you shook your head.
"i am not in the mood to argue again alessia, go away." you repeated firmly. "baby please! i didn't come here to argue, let me in." your girlfriend groaned, and a small thud lead you to believe her head had thumped dejectedly against the wood.
the two of you had been seeing one another for six or so months now and you were normally nothing but enamored with the superstar striker.
her energetic personality paired with her effortless charm and accent was a combination that had you swooning after just a couple of dates. so much so that when she'd asked you to be her girlfriend she hadn't even finished getting the question out before you'd said yes.
you rarely argued, normally too busy being disgustingly smitten with one another and teased relentlessly by your friends for it. though when you did argue neither of you ever backed down both incredibly stubborn and sure you were right while the other was wrong.
last night you'd both been dragged to a frat party with some of alessia's teammates, none of them drinking given the fact they had a game the next day but the fomo of not going was too strong to stay away from the event regardless.
not any sort of athlete yourself you'd had no reason not to drink, and though you'd only had a few it was enough that alessia had accused you got a little too handsy with another girl and disrespected her in front of her teammates and friends.
though your recollection of events was that all you did was dance with a girl from your ethics class you got to talking to, which you only did because your own girlfriend refused to get up and join you. too busied in the company of her teammates to pay you much more attention than wanting you sat on her lap all night while she chattered away to them.
"lessi are you sure this is the best idea? you've got a game tomorrow." you checked in with a slight frown of concern, finishing your makeup and turning toward where she sat on your bed.
"it'll be absolutely fine babe. none of the girls are drinking and i'll be keeping a sure eye on that as captain. i think most of them are just going for a hook up or because they're scared something cool will happen like the foam party last time and we'll all miss out." alessia laughed, making grabby hands at you soon as you were within reach.
"okay, so long as you're sure." you gave in, still not thinking it was a great idea but with no commitments of your own tomorrow you could still enjoy yourself, and parties were never as much fun without your girlfriend.
not that there was a chance in hell she'd ever let you go to one without her anyway.
"sit still please." you warned, settling yourself to straddle her lap as her hands fell to your hips, just slipping up the inside of your top .
"baby do you want this done or not? because i can't be expected to concentrate if you move your hands much higher." you warned with an amused smile as her large hands started to rub up and down your sides, causing you to flinch a little as her rings brushed your ribs.
"i thought women were supposed to be able to multi task?" the blonde teased with a grin, leaning in to press a few sweet kisses to your lips but you pushed at her shoulders before she could take them any further.
she seemed to settle after that, allowing you to finish her makeup as her hands now lay dormant on your thighs, her knee bouncing a little underneath you but you were more than used to that, the english girl hardly ever able to sit entirely still.
"done, you look perfect as always." you complimented, pecking her lips and trying to stand but her arms tightly encircled your waist preventing that. "where you goin?" the blonde rasped, your heart swooning at her thick accent, hand moving to the back of your neck and tugging you into a proper kiss.
"you look so beautiful, my lovely girl, my pretty girl." your girlfriend mumbled as she pulled away, lazily kissing your jaw a few times, focus shifting to your neck. within seconds she found your sweet spot, tongue gliding teasily over the taunt skin before her lips began to shower it with attention.
though before her teeth could join the party to mark you like she so loved to there was a sudden and endless amount of knocking on your door, a mixed chorus of voices yelling for the two of you to hurry up.
"that's our cue." you smiled, cupping her face and stealing one final kiss before you stood, hurrying over to open the door as a horde of girls all piled in, grabbing both you and alessia as you managed to snag your phone before you were dragged away and your door slammed closed behind you.
it was a couple of hours later and you were nursing your third drink of the night, pleasantly teetering on the edge of being tipsy as you sat on alessia's lap, her chin resting on your shoulder as she talked with her friends.
her large hands sat possessively on your hips, squeezing every now and then to gain your attention when someone asked you something and you didn't answer, lips occasionally pressing a tender kiss to the back of your bare shoulder blade or your cheek. but beyond that you were starved for any sort of real attention from the blonde and that was taking its own toll.
admittedly quite bored of the conversations between the group you were sat with, which all seemed to center around team couple drama or strategies for tomorrows game, you found yourself frequently zoning out and watching on as your peers danced and drank around you, seemingly having a much better time.
"wanna go dance?" you leaned back a little and murmured in your girlfriends ear with a hopeful smile. "later baby." she answered, returning your smile and pecking your lips before immediately tuning back into another conversation.
still watching as the party raged on you looked longingly to where you spotted see a group of your own friends playing beer pong.
your best friend alex caught your eye, frantically waving you over as you gestured to your girlfriends hands holding you firmly on her lap and within a second she was in front of you.
"can i steal your girl for a game of beer pong russo?" alex winked, hand finding yours and pulling you up to your feet. "you can but good luck winning with her as your partner." alessia smirked as you scoffed, playfully shoving her head to the side and bending down to kiss her goodbye, tugged away by your best friend.
you'd meet her eye every now and then, watching you protectively as her gaze flickered between you and her friends, making sure you were still within her sight at all times as you finally started to relax and let your hair down a little more.
unfortunately given alex was practically blind drunk and you had horrific aim you'd lost your game, kicked off the table and forced to down a 'punishment shot' of god knows what but it burned as you swallowed it with a grimace.
"the music is calling me babe lets go dance!" alex yelled in your ear as you nodded, telling her you'd go and meet her as you set off back toward alessia who perked up at the sight.
"hi gorgeous." the taller girl smiled happily, quick to tug you back down onto her lap. "alex wants to dance, come with me? please?" you pouted hopefully, cupping her face as you sweetly kissed her, thumb tracing tenderly over her bottom lip.
"mm but i missed you baby girl, just stay here with me." alessias hands gently squeezed your hips and she watched happily as you melted at the term of endearment, ready to give into whatever she wanted as she knew was normally the case if she pushed the right buttons.
but catching your best friend waiting patiently for you across the room, giving you hurry up eyes you snapped out of it.
"baby i'm tired of talking about soccer or whose sneaking around with who, just come dance with me pretty please." you whispered, kissing beneath her ear a few times as her grip tightened, you also knowing exactly how to push her buttons to get what you wanted.
"russo! you listening or what?" but she too was snapped out of it as one of the girls smacked her shoulder, jolting her attention back toward them as she nodded, ignoring your request as you rolled your eyes.
"where you off to?" she questioned as you stood, grabbing your wrist with a raised eyebrow. "you don't want to dance? fine. but i'm not sitting here on your lap all night like some sort of trophy." you tugged your hand away, walking off before she could say another word as a few of her teammates whistled and oohed teasingly.
"shut up!" alessia warned them sharply with a glare as she scowled after your retreating figure, ordering one of the girls to swap seats with her, still ensuring you were within her eyesight as you were twirled away by alex.
"this is mia!" you looked up from where you'd been dancing with alex and a few of your friends to the girl who'd joined you. "oh hey you're in my ethics tut?" you recognised, hugging her in hello as she nodded.
"you're russo's girl right? i've seen you at the games, i'm good friends with lois we have a few classes together." she smiled making you roll your eyes.
"i am. but i also go by y/n!" you replied making her laugh, alex squealing happily as one of her favourite songs came on and she pulled you both into a hug, drunkenly belting out the lyrics and swaying side to side making you grin.
alessia felt her jaw clench as she watched on as alex was swooped away by a boy leaving you to dance with a girl she didn't know, seeing the way her arms wrapped around you, pulling your body into hers and making you laugh.
the way alessia should have been holding you, and the way she normally would make you laugh.
"don't pay them enough attention and they'll find it somewhere else hey less!" one of her teammates teased with a wink, lotte shoving her harshly with a glare for the comment.
she turned to try and check in with alessia but she was already gone, marching her way over to you. "lessi baby! lets dance." you cheered happily as she appeared, face lighting up as mia stepped back and alessia fixed her with a hard glare.
a look which didn't go unnoticed by you as alessia took the half full drink out of your hand, placing it on a table and possessively wrapping an arm around your waist, tugging you away as you quickly sent mia an apologetic look.
"babe what are you-" "we're leaving."
unsure what had happened to cause the drop in her mood you allowed her to guide you outside, her hand falling to the small of your back as she pushed her way through the crowded frat house, the two of you finally inhaling fresh air as you made your way outside.
"less what's wrong? what happened?" you stopped to grab her face with a concerned frown, the taller girl only pulling off your hands and shaking her head, storming off as you hurried to keep up.
"hey baby, talk to me." you grabbed her hand stopping her in her tracks, the two of you alone and a fair way away from the party now. "are you trying to disrespect and embarrass me?" she scoffed suddenly causing your frown to deepen.
"what? of course not, why would you even think that?" you asked, hopelessly confused to where this was all coming from.
"first you yell at me in front of my friends and then you get all handsy with some other girl in view of the whole team when you think i'm not paying you enough attention? im the captain, do you know how bad that looks?" she continued, fixing you with an unimpressed glare as your face hardened.
"alessia please tell me you're joking." you laughed, though there wasn't a drop of humour behind your tone. "you're the only one laughing." she'd warned, and that was enough for you.
"for starters i didn't even want to go to that stupid party in the first place, i'd have much rather spent the night just with you like we normally do before your games." you started with a shake of your second.
"second of all once we got there you basically ignored me all night to talk shit with your teammates who you already spent the entire day with training. you barely made an effort to include me in any of the conversation bar wanting me sat on your lap to show off to everyone that mighty captain russo has a girlfriend." you snarled, pushing at her chest angrily as the taller girl barely moved despite the force you'd shoved her with.
"third of all i wanted you to come and dance with me but of course you were too busy being captain alessia russo tar heels superstar striker!" you mocked with a roll of your eyes, your girlfriend grabbing your hands tightly in hers as you tried to shove her again.
"so you don't get your own way and decide to go throw a tantrum and grind on some other girl to disrespect and humiliate me in front of the team and try to what? make me jealous?" alessia chuckled as you yanked your hands away.
"oh fuck you! of course you make yourself the victim." you shook your head in disbelief, hands flying to your neck as you undid the necklace she'd given you, the small silver A silently claiming you as hers.
'don't talk to me until you pull your head out of your ass." you warned tossing the necklace at her as she caught it, storming away and flipping her off as she called after you.
you made a beeline for your dorm building, alessia watching you go with a glare before she scoffed and headed off toward her own room, head swirling with a mess of different emotions.
and that brought you back to right now as your girlfriend knocked impatiently on your door and whined for you to let her in, neither one of you having spoken since your fight last night.
getting up with a huff you pulled the door open, the blonde perking up as you did so, already dressed and ready in her uniform for her game later.
"have you come to apologise then?" you asked sharply, crossing your arms and fixing her with a glare as you blocked her from entering your room with your body. though really you both knew if she wanted to move you it would be a more than easy task for the taller well built soccer star.
"can i come in so we can talk? please." alessia pleaded, eyes flickering around to the nosy gazes from some of your peers who lingered in their doorway watching the couple.
not particularly wanting an audience for if round two of your argument kicked off you rolled your eyes and stepped aside so she could come in, closing the door after her.
"don't sit. unless you're here to say you're sorry for being a self obsessed jealous asshole, you won't be here long." you snipped as she moved toward your bed, jaw clenching and posture stiffening slightly at your words but she stayed standing none the less.
"i hate fighting with you. can we please forget it happened and just move on?" the english girl asked hopefully, rocking back and forth on her heels as you laughed. "was that your idea of an apology then? get out." you pointed back to the door as alessia groaned, throwing her head back.
"i'm sorry! but we've not spoken all day and it's killing me. i miss you baby, miss my pretty girl." the taller girl pouted taking a step closer and playing with the bottom of your hoodie, looking down at you with her alluringly bright blue eyes and your stubborn resolve wavered for just a moment until you snapped out of it.
"don't you have warm ups to get to?" you pushed her hands away with a raised eyebrow, eyes running up and down her navy blue uniform, number 19 splashed proudly across the front of her chest and given it was coming into the cooler season she'd put a matching navy long sleeve on underneath.
"well yeah but..." she trailed off, pursing her lips and looking anywhere but you as you just raised an eyebrow at her behavior. "you know we always...before every game." alessia hinted still refusing to meet your eyes, as you finally caught on to what she wanted.
"alessia. please tell me you didn't only come here to say a half ass sorry because you want me to kiss you good luck?" you scoffed in disbelief, letting out a bark of sarcastic laughter.
"whats wrong with that? i wasn't lying i hate fighting with you babe and it's part of my pre game routine its our little ritual. i'll play terribly if we don't kiss!" alessia whined, the taller girl grabbing for your hands with another pout.
"you are unbelievable!" you pulled them away, turning around and opening the door, gesturing for her to leave. "just a small one? or on the cheek? a peck even? baby please!" alessia tried again with a whine and a pleading look, hovering by the door.
"fine, but just a peck." you agreed bluntly, her entire face lighting up as she pursed her lips, just moments before they tasted wood as you promptly slammed your door in her face.
"hey!" alessia scoffed with a scowl, only met with a firm request from you for her to fuck off as she huffed, kicking your door angrily and storming off.
~
you glanced down by your side as your phone vibrated over and over, but assuming it would just be your friends trying to convince you to come and watch the game you didn't bother to look.
but as the notifications continue to pour in your curiosity got the best of you and you grabbed the device, flipping it over and quickly realising it had been calls not texts that you'd been screening.
another one coming in you clicked accept, holding it up to your ear. "what al? i'm trying to study." you sighed. "you need to get here and fix this mess!" you frowned at her allusive words. "sorry?" you asked in confusion.
"alessia has missed five sitters, two of them the goalie wasn't even there and she still missed! i don't care what you're fighting about, she needs you." the girl remanded making you groan. "less is a big girl alex! so she has an off day, those happen." you rolled your eyes.
"um excuse me where is your school spirit? this is bigger than some stupid argument and i personally have money riding on this game. and they need these three points to be in a good place for if we want to make the championships!" the girl huffed as you again let out a groan, putting her on speaker and hurrying around to get ready.
"and that's my fault? how! she's the one who messed up and got all moody and jealous over nothing." you scoffed, shoving your feet into your shoes.
"i don't understand how her wanting you causes an issue? if anything babe jealousy is hot! honestly i'll never understand you silly little lesbians. just be happy and in love with each other keep it stupid simple. now get your ass here and save this game!" and with those wise words of wisdom imparted on you your best friend promptly ended the call as you stepped out of your room.
~
"finally! god it's almost half time dude." alex groaned, grabbing your hand and yanking you harshly down into the seat beside her, causing you to send an apologetic smile to the boy next to you who you'd almost sat on.
"what happened to her hand?" you questioned, eyebrows knitted together as you spotted your girlfriend with two fingers taped up together, her usual pink med tape headband making her easy to find on the field.
"got stomped on by that huge number four when she slid in for a tackle, also something that never happens to her!" alex shoved you, clearly insinuating it was somehow your fault.
"okay you clearly don't know her well enough off the pitch then because she is a walking hazard. she's like one of those puppies with massive paws who hasn't worked out how to walk!" you huffed as the whistle blew signalling the first half was over.
"go fix it! now." alex ordered as you were once again manhandled by the impatient brunette. "god you're so bossy. why do i keep hanging out with you?" you huffed quietly causing her to smack you with a playful glare.
hurrying down the stairs you waited by the sideline as the team had already entered the change rooms for their half time talk, well most of the team.
"you came! does less know you're here? she's been a mopey miserable mess man." you jumped as lotte appeared, not playing today due to a small strain in her calf.
"no we sort of had it out before when she came by for her good luck kiss and didn't come with an apology for last night." you rolled your eyes as lotte winced. "look mate we both know she's far from perfect but some of the girls took it too far with the teasing comments. i'm not saying whatever happened was justified but they did push her." lotte squeezed your shoulder with an empathetic smile.
"yeah well until she apologises and speaks to me herself about it i'm still pissed off with her. but i heard she's having a stinker and i think if i don't try to fix it i'm gonna be public enemy number one." you sighed, nodding to where alex was watching on with narrowed eyes.
though before lotte could say another word the team began to file out, lead out by their captain who spotted you almost right away, lotte excusing herself as your girlfriend replaced her.
before she could speak you grabbed her hand, pulling the two of you a little more out of sight in the tunnel. "i'm still angry with you but you have to get out of your own head less. you're better than this!" you reminded firmly but not unkindly as the blonde only nodded.
you cut off her attempt to speak as you balled her jersey in your fists and pulled her into a kiss, pushing her away as her eyes widened in shock. "now go score a goal, captain." you ordered, pointing back to the pitch as alessia could only nod again.
she turned to leave as you did too but before you could take a step your body was pressed against the wall of the tunnel, the english girl looming over you.
"i'm really sorry for last night baby, you were right and i was out of line and i'm so sorry for making you feel ignored. i'm gonna say it all properly after the game but i want you to know that i love you, so much." and with that her hands flew to your cheeks and her lips were back on yours.
angry with her or not there was no denying the erruption of butterflies in your stomach as she kissed you, running her tongue along your bottom lip before it evaded your mouth, the blonde stealing the air from your lungs before the whistle blew and she pushed herself away.
"gonna go score for you now pretty girl." the striker smiled, pecking your lips a few more times with a soft smile before sprinting off as her coach screamed out her name, 19 on her back disappearing onto the pitch as you blinked a few times in shock.
pulling yourself together you hurried back to your seat beside alex who smirked seeing your flushed cheeks as you ignored her teasings, focusing on the game.
and score for you she did, with two cracking the back of the net within ten minutes as alex almost pulled you onto her shoulders with glee. the final score winding up 4-0 you joined in with the rest of the spectators and students, whistling and cheering loudly, not missing how alessia's eyes found yours with a big dopey grin.
leaving her to shower and change you hung back with alex who eagerly recounted with far too much detail how the rest of her night went, rolling your eyes at her midnight encounters with the same boy she'd been hung up on who never paid her any mind unless he was drunk.
a gentle hand on your waist pulled you back from her story telling, alex stopping mid sentence with a knowing smile. "and thats my cue, i'll call you later with the rest. you better look after her russo, i know where you live!" alex warned, jokingly though her words were somewhat serious as alessia nodded feverishly.
"hi." you turned to look at her, the taller girl now changed out of her uniform and into grey sweats and an oversized black and blue tar heels hoodie, one you frequently stole from her. "can i walk you back to your dorm?" alessia asked hopefully causing a small smile to curl onto your lips as you nodded.
"i'm so sorry for my behaviour last night. i shouldn't have let the girls wind me up or have taken it out on you, i know you'd never cheat or do anything like that. i just don't like seeing someone touch whats mine." the possessive words sent your stomach into a flip despite the soft and caring tone they were said with.
"i'm sorry if i embarassed you in front of the team i promise i didn't mean to. i just wanted to spend time with you, even at a stupid frat party. but i shouldn't have just snapped." you apologised, slipping your hand into hers causing a surprised smile to appear on her features as the two of you made your way across campus.
"no you were right babe i was being a dickhead, but i won't lie i do like showing you off." alessia smiled charmingly, bringing your intertwined hands to her mouth and placing a gentle kiss to your knuckles.
"why you laughing? that was a nice comment!" alessia frowned as you laughed. "it sounds funny when you say dickhead in your cute little accent." you grinned as the two of you reached your dorm, you letting the pair of you in.
"come here." you squealed as the blonde dropped her kit bag to the floor and wasted no time grabbing your thighs, hauling you up into her arms as your legs wrapped around her waist and she flopped down onto your bed.
"there's much more graceful ways to get me into bed russo." you teased, kissing her nose and beaming as she scrunched it up adorably. "thats baby to you thanks." the girl pouted as you wasted no time kissing it away, alessia flipping the two of you over so she was hovering over you.
"think you forgot something though." she sat up, hips hovering over yours as she reached into the pocket, pulling out the necklace you'd tossed at her last night and shuffling back so you could sit up.
you sat up and held your hair back as you felt her settle behind you, moving to clasp it back around your neck, her lips peppering gentle kisses across the skin before you turned to face her.
you let out a laugh as she playfully tackled you back down to the bed, holding herself up above you with one arm her thumb pawed at the silver A now hanging rightfully back around your neck before they moved to gently traced the curve of your jaw.
bright blue eyes staring adoringly down into yours as you reached up to pull her hair out as it fell around the two of you like a curtain and she leaned down closer, her lips ghosting yours.
"my girl."
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