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#and the worst part is that i already knew how this worked from last year
tswaney17 · 1 day
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I Do Bad Things with You - Part 49
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It's here!!! The final part of this massive fic. 😭 I can't believe we're finally at the end. I'm still in shock that I get to close the door on this fic that has taken up the last three years of my life. I have so many emotions running through me right now. 🥺
The epilogue will be posted during @elriel-month in addition to a little surprise I'm so excited to share with you. Stay tuned!! 💜💙💚
My fanfic account: @tswaney17fics​​​
My ao3 account: tswaney17
Please let me know what you think about this update. I love getting your feedback. Constructive criticism is always welcome. 💕
Catch up here.
Credit to @featherymalignancy for Cassian’s nickname, Cash. 😘
Trigger warnings: violence, sexual assault , language, NSFW
This part also features descriptions of birth and complications from it.
Word Count: 7,225
Elain had spent a good portion of the late morning getting ready for the baby shower scheduled for noon. At just over eight months pregnant, they were cutting close to the wire of the twins’ arrival.
She was beyond exhausted. Growing the babies was work enough, but she ached everywhere at this point. Her boobs, her hips, her ankles. Her back…that hurt the worst. She looked like she swallowed two extra large watermelons. Elain hadn’t seen her feet in two and half months and she was praying that her toenails looked well enough for sandals today.
On top of her aching body, she also slept like shit the night before, having woken up in the wee hours with Braxton Hicks contractions that seemed to never want to go away. They were getting obnoxious at this point.
Oh! And her boobs had already started leaking. Aside from the contractions, Elain also woke up to a soaked sleep shirt and an attitude that poor Azriel was desperately trying to keep calm. She felt bad that her irritation got directed at him, but he took her mood swings in stride, giving her the space when she needed it, and focusing on taking care of Kaden and getting him ready for the party.
Her husband knocked lightly before entering their bedroom, shutting the door behind him and locking it when he saw her standing there in an ugly pair of panties and a strapless bra—which she had no idea how it was going to hold up her tits, but here they were. “Hello, my love. How are you doing?” he asked, striding further into their room. He was already dressed in black slacks and a white button-down rolled up to his elbows. It was one of her favorite looks on him. Casual but classy and sexy as hell.
“I’m all right. Better than this morning,” which was true. In the time she took to get ready, she felt her irritation slowly dissipate. “I’m sorry for snapping at you.”
He gifted her a soft smile he reserved only for her and their children. “El, you’re carrying two babies. You’re allowed to let out your frustrations. I’m here to spar if you need it, you know that.”
She knew he meant spar as in letting her yell and shout and hiss words until she felt better while he just took it. Gods, he really was the perfect husband. Elain held out her coco butter lotion towards him. “Do you mind rubbing this on me and helping me dress?”
Azriel took the bottle from her outstretched hands, dropping a sweet kiss on her plump lips before squirting some into his scarred palms and gently rubbing it all over her swollen stomach. He knelt before her, dutifully getting every inch of her covered. “You are so beautiful, Elain,” he murmured, kissing her at the fullest part of her belly.
She snorted. “I am a beached whale who ate too much.”
“You are a gorgeous woman carrying life inside of her womb. That will always be beautiful, sweetheart.”
How he always knew what to say was beyond her, but she tugged him up off the ground to kiss him thoroughly. It should’ve annoyed her with how just a few sweeps of Azriel’s tongue had every concern and irritation simply melt away. He knew when to play that card and fuck did he play it well.
But even his tongue couldn’t stop the hiss of pain as another contraction wracked her body.
He immediately pulled back at the sound, eyes scanning her face. “Are you all right?” he asked, concern etched into the tone.
She breathed through the wave that tightened in her abdomen. “Braxton Hicks contractions,” she said as an explanation.
 His brows shot into his hairline. “Do we need to go to the hospital?”
Elain reached up to cup his cheek in her palm, her thumb swiping over the stubble there. “No, it’s a normal thing this late in the pregnancy. I’ve had a few this morning starting before dawn. It’s why I was grouchy.”
Understanding lit his face and he carefully ran his hand down her stomach again. “Why didn’t you wake me this morning?”
She huffed a laugh. “Because I knew you’d go into full-birthing-dad-mode and neither one of us would’ve slept any longer.”
Azriel shot her an unamused glare. “You will be thanking me for that birthing-dad mode when you’re in labor and I have everything packed up within minutes.”
This time Elain laughed loud and joyfully. “Yes, you’re probably right.” She nodded to the dress on the bed. “Help me slip that on?”
He grabbed the fabric, bunching it in his large fists, and pulled it over her head. It was an off-the-shoulder, loose, pale pink cotton dress, decorated with roses. It looked vintage, gathering just under her bust, with oversized puffy sleeves that sat off her shoulders, over her biceps. Ruffles accentuated the bottom hem, emphasizing the vintage style. It was the perfect spring dress. When Elain first saw it at the store, she knew she had to buy it for the shower.
Azriel tugged her loose curls from the back of the dress, letting them brush against her spine. He placed a kiss on her bare shoulder before grabbing the rose-pendant necklace he bought to go with the dress and draping it around her delicate neck. “Perfect,” he murmured onto her skin, his smile pressing against her neck.
Elain sighed softly, reaching up to thread her fingers through his dark hair. “How am I still horny for you?”
He nipped at her throat, a rumble shaking his chest. “Because you know I can deliver what you need without even blinking.”
This time she laughed, letting his hands run across her body in possessive little touches.
Azriel brazenly cupped her sex through the dress, growling as she let out a mewling sound and began to writhe against those skilled fingers, searching for the friction she desperately craved. “Would you like to fuck my hand, love?” he murmured, mouth grazing her jaw.
Elain fell slack against him, letting his strength hold her up. “Az,” she breathed, eyes fluttering shut as he began to rub her in earnest. “Please.”
He nipped the curve of her ear, tugging the lobe between his teeth. “You beg so prettily, El.” Bunching up the dress in a fist, Azriel slid her panties aside, swiping his fingers over her soaked pussy. “Fuck, baby. You’re so wet for me. Always desperate for my touch.”
She gripped him, nails digging into his exposed forearms. “I need—I need,” she panted out, wiggling in his hold. “Please, Az.”
Giving her exactly what she wanted—needed—Azriel sunk his middle finger into her aching cunt, pumping once before adding a second digit. “Such a good girl,” he whispered, thrusting in and out of her. The heel of his palm grazed her clit sending bolts of pleasure up her spine.
Elain bit her lip, stifling the moan that threatened to burst from her. His fingers scraped along that special spot inside of her, building her up and up and up until she teetered on the edge of bliss.
Barely conscious of her surroundings, Elain caught the sound of the door handle jiggling, followed by a “Momma!”
Azriel clapped a hand over her mouth as he continued his machinations. “Momma’s getting dressed, Kaden. We’ll be out in a minute,” he called out, pressing his palm firmly on her clit and sending her spiraling into her orgasm.
Too far gone to care, she tumbled into sweet oblivion, coming hard on his fingers. Elain moaned, only quieted by the muffling against her husband’s scarred hand.
He worked her through her release, slowing his movements when she started to come down from her high. Az peppered her skin with sweet kisses, removing his fingers from her pussy and readjusting her panties back into place before letting the dress fall back down. “Better, my love?”
“I’m gonna have to change my underwear, but yes.” She twisted in his arms, catching him sucking his fingers clean. Elain brought his mouth down to hers, tongue licking the drop of her release dotting his bottom lip. “Thank you, husband.”
He smiled into their kiss, deepening it once more. “I’ll go check on Kaden while you finish up. We’ll head out when you’re done.”
Twenty minutes later, they were in the car on their way to Rhys and Feyre’s place. It was a gorgeous day full of sunshine, the air warm with the oncoming of summer. It was as if even the Mother wanted to grace her presence on that day with her radiance. They really couldn’t have asked for a more beautiful day for a baby shower.
“Momma?” Kaden called from the back seat. “Where are we going?”
His speech had improved so much since they first brought him home that the therapist they hired had told them after the end of the school year, that he likely wouldn’t need to continue seeing a specialist to catch him up. He was reading and writing the way a five-year-old should be and was on track to pass kindergarten with flying colors.
She glanced over her shoulder at him. “Remember how we talked about going to Aunt Feyre and Uncle Rhys’s for the baby shower today.”
He seemed to think about that. “What’s a baby shower?”
Her lips quirked up at his curious mind. Thankfully, he hadn’t asked about where babies came from again. “It’s a party to celebrate the upcoming arrival of your brother and sister.” Her hand came to rest on her belly instinctively.
His face scrunched up. “Will I have to take a bath again?”
Azriel let out a snort, glancing at her. “It’s a fair question.”
She laughed. “No, sweetheart. Not that kind of shower. To shower with love. The party is just to celebrate the babies before they arrive.”
“Will there be cake?” he asked, excitement lighting up his face at the prospect of sweets.
“For my sister’s sake, there better be.” Elain’s late-stage pregnancy craving was anything sweet. Cookies, cakes, pastries, whatever she could get her hands on, she was eating it. Azriel was barely able to keep the pantry stocked with desserts for her to snack on.
Her husband chuckled. “If she doesn’t, we’ll stop by a bakery on our way home and get each of you a cake. How’s that sound?” he asked, grasping her hand and bringing it to his mouth to kiss her knuckles.
She grinned. “You spoil me.”
He looked at her then. “You deserve to be spoiled.”
They were fashionably late to their baby shower, and Elain completely blamed her husband’s morning sexual charade for the delay in their arrival. Not that she minded at all. She had another Braxton Hick contraction in the car, Azriel eying her with worry and once again asking if they should make a pitstop at the hospital just in case.
But that would’ve made them even more late and Elain knew it was unnecessary.
All of their friends and family were waiting for their arrival. And she hated being late.
“What am I going to do with you gone for six months, Elain?” Thesan teased, taking a sip of his beer.
She shot a devilish grin at the head nurse sitting on the couch across from her. “I’m sure Viv would love to pick up all the slack.”
Viviane squawked in outrage and pointed a menacing finger in her direction. “Don’t put your work on me while you’re enjoying your babymoon, Elain Archeron-Knight.”
The group laughed as she pushed herself up off the couch. Another contraction hit her and she winced, catching the attention of the sharp-eyed nurse. But before she could ask, Kaden came bounding up to her, tugging on the skirt of her dress.
“Momma, can I have a cake pop?” He looked up at her with those damn puppy eyes he knew she couldn’t resist.
Elain ran a hand through his hair. “Sure, sweetie. Only one. You don’t want to spoil your appetite for Uncle Cassian’s good barbeque.”
Said uncle was out in the backyard tending to the grill with her husband, Rhys, and the Moonbeam brothers because, apparently, that’s where men gathered. Aelin and Rowan had joined them, the former getting an eyebrow raise from Azriel at her company’s appearance.
She made her way to the kitchen, hoping to perhaps score one of those cake pops herself—she was the guest of honor, surely she could snag one too. Feyre, Nuala, and Cerridwen had been busy putting together the final touches for lunch and were just waiting for Cassian’s proteins to serve food.
But just as she reached the breakfast bar, a wave of excruciating pain washed over her. Catching herself on the counter, Elain gripped the side of her stomach, groaning loud enough that the other room went silent. And then she felt it. Liquid surged between her legs, puddling the floor beneath her.
No. No, it was too soon. They couldn’t be coming already.
Viviane rounded the corner from the living room as Feyre and the twins approached her.
Somebody breathed her name, but she couldn’t decipher who it was over the blood rushing in her ears.
More footsteps sounded as her friends and family came from the living room to see what was going on.
“Elain.” It was Feyre’s voice that broke through the fog of fear that had clouded her, but she was too numb to respond. Too nervous. “Somebody get Azriel!”
Her panic grew and her breathing turned shallow. It was too soon. She wasn’t ready, wasn’t prepared enough. The anxiety of giving birth hit her like a freight train.
She couldn’t do this.
She couldn’t.
~~~~~
Azriel took a swig of his beer, rolling his eyes at the cad comment Rhys made. His tanned skin warmed in the sunlight even with the sleeves of his button-down rolled up to his elbows. With a glance at the large window, he caught Elain rising from her spot on the couch, Kaden gripping her dress to speak with her.
Gods, that fucking dress. Elain looked like a maternal goddess in it, emphasizing her swollen belly, brimming with the life of his children. Az never realized he had a breeding kink until he and Elain got back together. His desire to fill her with his seed, to watch her grow with life had him hardening in his pants.
Now at eight months, she had reached the stage where little things irked the hell out of her. Honestly, her temper was cute as hell, but he tried to be considerate of her exhaustion and short-fuse, offering himself up to take the heat of her ire. It was only fair—he’s the one that got her pregnant.
It may have made him a primitive, alpha-douchebag, but fuck did he love to see her waddling around, pregnant and barefoot in their home. She was already such a wonderful mother to their boy, Kaden. Cassian had been right. He was so incredibly grateful for Elain’s maternal instinct.
“Something caught your eye, brother?” Cassian taunted, grinning. His brother knew exactly what he was looking at. Or whom.
He shot him a dry look that had Cash chuckling.
“If she wasn’t already pregnant, I’d say that look alone could’ve knocked her up,” he teased. “Who knew you had such a kink, Az.”
Azriel opened his mouth to retort, but the sliding glass door opening caught his attention.
Nuala peeked her head out, a worried look on her face that had his stomach tightening in knots. “Azriel! Get in here now!”
But he was already moving, dropping his drink on the table and running after her into the house, his brothers and friends hot on his heels. He froze in the entryway of the kitchen, taking in the scene for a split second before his eyes settled on Elain bent over the counter, a puddle of clear liquid beneath her.
His feet ate up the space between them in three long strides, her name falling from his lips as he cupped her face and forced her gaze on his. Azriel prided himself in knowing exactly what Elain was feeling, what she was thinking by just the look on her face. He read her better than he did himself. So, seeing the blatant apprehension and worry written as clearly as a tattoo on her forehead had his heart racing in his chest.
Her eyes were wet with the tears he could tell she was trying to hold back.
“Love,” he said quietly, unsure how to proceed at the moment.
She blinked like hearing him cleared a bit of the fog that had washed over her. “Azriel.” Her voice cracked.
He folded her into his arms, trying to soothe whatever worries were troubling her. “You’re okay, my love.”
Elain seemed to melt in his embrace, her tension slowly ebbing away the longer he held her. He gave her whatever time she needed, ignoring the audience they had around them, but it was long enough for another contraction to hit. She cried out, gripping his hand in hers and squeezing tight.
Viviane snapped into action at that. “Azriel, her contractions are about nine minutes apart now. She’s going to have at least two more by the time you reach the hospital.”
“No hospitals,” Elain growled.
That had him pulling back to look down at her. “El, the babies are coming—”
“No. Hospitals.” He could see the wavering in her face. “I—,” she paused, hesitating. “They’re not ready. It’s too early. Too soon. They can’t come out yet…” Her head fell until she was looking at the wetness still sitting on the floor. “I’m not ready,” Elain whispered so quietly, that he almost missed it.
Azriel knew that was nerves speaking. While Kaden made them parents, the idea of giving birth to the twins was the primary source of her fear. The books he read said that many expectant mothers experienced this type of anxiety right around the time they went into labor. If they were going to have any success in her having a smooth birth, Azriel needed to get her to calm down. He glanced at Cassian. “Can you get her a chair?”
His brother grabbed one from the dining room, setting it out for Az to carefully guide Elain into. He knelt in front of her, keeping her hands clasped firmly in his. “Elain, sweetheart,” her dark eyes latched onto his, needing to hear his reassurance. He kept his voice low, wishing they didn’t have to have this conversation in front of their friends and family.
Rhys seemed to sense that and began ushering people out of the room. “Let’s give the couple a few minutes.”
He shot his brother a grateful look before returning his attention to Elain. “Sweetheart, I know you’re scared. I know it’s earlier than we were expecting. But if there is one thing that I am certain of is that you can do this.” He squeezed her hands in comfort. “You are the strongest person I know. You’ve been through so much that once all is said and done, you’re going to look at me and tell me that this was the easy part. I promise you that if anyone can do this, it’s you. And I will be right by your side for every step, holding your hand, giving you ice chips, and bearing whatever you need me to bear to bring our children into the world.”
She sniffed, a small smile tugging at her lips. “You’re sure?”
“Without a doubt, Elain. You can do this.” He brought their joined hands up to his mouth, kissing her fingers and letting her absorb whatever confidence she needed. “So, what do you say? Are you ready to have our babies, love?”
Elain huffed a laugh, his words settling the nerves she had. “Yes, let’s go have our babies,” she breathed, her grin taking over her entire face, lasting all of thirty seconds before a look of panic took root once more. “Az, the birthing bag is still at the house.”
He let out an undignified snort. “Do you think after having that contraction in front of me this morning, I’d leave the house without having absolutely everything packed and ready to go? Come on, baby, you know me better than that. It’s all in the back of the car.”
She blinked in surprise. “The birthing bag and my pillow?”
“In the car,” he confirmed.
“Kaden’s overnight bag?”
“In the car.”
“The car seats for the twins?”
He scoffed. “You know I installed those weeks ago, try again.”
Her lips quired up at the corner. “What about the slippers I was wearing this morning?” she asked, thinking she had him.
Az rolled his eyes in playful exasperation. “I grabbed them when I snagged the birthing bag.” He kissed her hands again. “I’ve got you, love.”
And then she was leaning forward, kissing him with so much love and devotion, he felt it down to the soul she brought back to life. The sound of their family’s cheers forced them apart, a pretty blush dusting the tops of Elain’s cheeks, but she didn’t dare look away from him.
Without looking away from her, Azriel reached into his pocket, pulled out his keys, and tossed them to Rhys. “Can you grab Kaden’s bag from the trunk? The one with dinosaurs. And then Elain’s purple one as well.”
Elain’s brows furrowed in confusion. “Why is he grabbing mine?”
His lips pulled up into a knowing grin, brushing the shell of her ear as he leaned forward to whisper, “I thought you might like to change your underwear and put on a maternity pad for the ride to the hospital.”
Her cheeks heated in embarrassment, but she nodded in agreement.  
A little body shuffled closer. “Momma?” Kaden murmured, looking so very worried over the state of his mother.
She held her arms out, motioning him forward. “C’mere sweetheart.” Elain tucked him into her chest, kissing the top of his head. “You’re going to stay here with Aunt Feyre and Uncle Rhys while Daddy and I go to the hospital to have your brother and sister.”
He looked up at her with those puppy-dog eyes and damn, the kid knew how to work them. “But I want to go with you!” His lower lip quivered and Azriel could tell he was on the verge of tears.
But his wife took it in stride, cupping his little face in her palms and swiping her thumbs across his cheeks. “I know, sweetheart. I know you do. But you’ll have a much better time here with your aunt and uncle. Momma’s not going to be fun to be around until your siblings are here.” She kissed his plump cheek. “But I promise that you will be the first to see us once they arrive. Okay?”
Feyre stepped forward, reaching out a hand for their son. “Come on, Kaden. We’ll have lots of fun eating all the desserts left over.” She shot them a wink when he finally relented, taking her fingers.
After cleaning her up as best as he could and getting her a maternity pad from her bag, he and Elain were in the car on the way to the hospital. As Viviane predicted, she had two more contractions on the way, grabbing his offered hand and the “oh shit” bar as she groaned her way through it. And then promptly went into a third one right as they arrived.
Az timed them out, still sitting about nine minutes apart. “Breathe, baby. Good, love. Just like that.” His thumb grazed the back of her hand. Her grip was tight, on the verge of painful, but he didn’t dare let his face flinch or show an ounce of discomfort. She needed his strength and that’s exactly what he was going to give her.
They were immediately escorted to their private room and Elain’s vitals were checked over. She was sitting at only two centimeters dilated, which meant they were looking at being there for a bit.
Between her contractions, he swapped out his clothes for a fitted black t-shirt and grey sweatpants to get more comfortable and then sent a text to their siblings to notify them that they were in and settled, but it would be a while before they would have any progress.
“Can you check in with Kaden?” Elain asked, taking a scoop of ice chips from her cup.
The corner of his lips curled up at the question. “I already did. Feyre said he wouldn’t leave the front window for a while and had to persuade him with his baby cousin and a lot of sweet treats.”
She snorted, shaking her head. “He’s going to have a mouth full of cavities before we get home.” Elain twisted to look at him. “Do you think we made the right decision by not letting him come with us? It sounds like he’s waiting for us to return. I know that some families let their little ones be present for the birth of their siblings and we discussed it—”
He interrupted her train of thought. “I think we made the right call, love. We’re going to be here for a while and we both know that things can upset him. I don’t know how well he’d handle watching you go through that.”
She nodded but didn’t look very convinced.
Azriel reached for her hand, covering it with his own and squeezing her fingers. “He’s safe and well-cared for. Remember that while we focus on bringing his little brother and sister into the world.” He brushed his lips over her knuckles in a sweet kiss.
Elain smiled softly at him. “Okay.”
And so, they waited.
Per his wife’s birthing plan, she wanted to attempt to go natural. Azriel admired her strength and resilience in doing so. But after over sixteen hours of hard labor, he could see her resolve fading.
He stroked her cheek, fingers brushing hair behind her ear. “Talk to me, sweetheart.”
Dark circles already lined the underneath part of her eyes. She looked so weary. “I’m so tired, Az.” Her voice came out nearly broken and fuck if that didn’t just rip his beating heart from his chest.
Kissing her forehead, he murmured, “Do you want to get the epidural? It’ll help you get some much-needed rest before the delivery.” As of now, she was only at seven centimeters and the doctor had said it could still be a while longer until she reached a full ten.
Her chin dipped in confirmation. “Please.”
Azriel didn’t waste time calling for the nurse. Within ten minutes, he watched as a grossly large needle was inserted into her back, sending that relief washing over her. He peppered her face with kisses during the procedure, murmuring words of praise and comfort in her ear as she gritted her teeth through it.
Elain spent the next eight hours in a fitful sleep, dosing off and waking up not long after each time. Azriel didn’t bother to try and sleep, not when she wasn’t really getting much at all.
But finally, after just past nine, she was fully dilated and ready to push.
His wife pushed and pushed and pushed for a half hour with nothing to show for it. She was in tears, frustrated, and so exhausted he was practically supporting all her weight having slid an arm around her shoulders to keep her upright.
“I can’t, I can’t,” she sobbed, half burying her face into his chest.
“You can, love. You’re so strong. Just a little bit more,” he tried to reassure her. It fucking killed him to see her like this.
“Can’t you do it for me?” she pleaded, looking up at him with wild, desperate eyes.
He gripped her cheek in his palm, kissing her temple. “You know I would, El. I would give anything to switch places with you right now. But I know you can do this. Just a few more pushes and then they’ll be here.”
Whatever she read within his words seemed to do the trick, her brows furrowing with a determination he hadn’t seen since they left the house. Elain pushed herself up, trying to get into a kneeling position, and he was right there, sliding behind her and supporting her weight.
The nurses squawked, muttering something about hospital policy, but frankly, he did not give a fuck, snarling, “Her body is telling her to push like this. Listen to your fucking patient.”
Changing the position was exactly what she needed because their son was born within the next two contractions, entering the world with a healthy set of lungs.
They sagged back against the pillows, his face wet with tears as they placed their new baby directly on Elain’s bared chest. He couldn’t stop himself from tipping her head back to kiss her softly on the lips, pausing the savor the moment.
Az traced the pads of his fingers over the curve of their boy’s cheek, just needing to touch him to prove he was here with them. Even covered in fluids, he was so beautiful. The perfect blend of the two of them.
The nurses gave them just a few minutes with the first baby before Doctor Chen said that she needed to start pushing again. She took their boy from Elain’s arms, promising to bring him back for Azriel after he was cleaned up and their daughter was born.
Delivery of their little girl went easier than with their son. But whereas their boy came out crying, their daughter came out silent.
Azriel knew something was wrong just by the silence, but it only grew the anxiety in his stomach when the doctor turned her back on them, taking their little one with her to work on.
“She’s not crying,” Elain breathed, worry clouding her voice.
He could only squeeze her shoulders in comfort, watching as they shoved things into her nose and mouth.
“Suction,” Chen ordered.
“Azriel, why isn’t she crying?”
“She’s going to be okay, love. They’re helping her. She’s okay.” The words passed his lips even as his heart dropped into his stomach when they started doing compressions on her tiny body.
No.
This couldn’t be happening. They couldn’t lose her. It would kill him to lose his little girl, but Elain, fuck, he couldn’t even begin to fathom the devastation she would face at this loss. There was nothing he could do. He couldn’t pay to fix this or threaten someone to save their baby girl.
So, he did what any father would do.
He prayed.
He prayed to every god, every deity, everything, and anything he could think of to keep his little girl safe and bring her back to them. To take her place if they demanded it. A life for a life. He’d pay it for his child, his family. “Come on,” he murmured. “Come on, baby. Come on.”
Elain curved her face into the side of his chest, howling in a way he’d never heard from her before.
His arms went around her, that dreaded feeling turning his blood cold. The terror he felt of their little one dead before she lived was unlike anything he’d ever experienced. But still, he did not stop praying, clutching Elain’s shaking body to his. “Come on, little one. Come on!” he chanted. “Please.”
And then, a rattled cough tore from her tiny body, followed by the sweet, beautiful sound of her cry.
Elain’s wail turned into relieved sobs, as the doctor walked over their bundled little girl and placed her into his wife’s awaiting arms.
“Somebody was just so excited to meet you, she took a breath a little too early, but we cleared out her passages and lungs and she looks good now.”
His wife tucked their daughter into her chest, kissing the top of her head. “Hi sweet girl, Momma’s here,” she whispered, tears still falling down her cheeks. Tears that matched the ones running down his face.
She was here. His baby girl. Fuck, she looked just like him, with dark hair and tanned skin. He hadn’t gotten a look at her eyes yet, but already she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
“Here you go, Mr. Archeron-Knight,” one of the other nurses said, pulling his attention from his wife and daughter as she handed him his son, cleaned up and wrapped in a soft blanket.
The small bundle was gently laid in the crook of his elbow. Azriel didn’t think he’d ever feel the amount of love he did on Kaden’s adoption day, but sitting here with his gorgeous wife, holding their newborn twins, he felt his heart soar in his chest.
Sweaty and fatigued, Elain glanced up at his face, the sweetest, exhausted smile pulling on her lips. “I love you,” she murmured.
He let out a sound that was a cross between a chuckle and a sob. “I love you more.” And then he kissed her, sealing that moment in time with his undying love for her.
~~~~~
Elain woke to the sound of a whimpering cry, swiftly followed by Azriel’s low voice.
“Hey, sweet girl. What’s wrong, huh?” She heard some shuffling as her husband lifted their daughter from the nursery bed. “Momma needs her sleep so we need to be quiet.” He kept his voice low enough to not disturb her—fuck she loved him so much—but she was already awake, rolling over in the hospital bed to face him.
Azriel holding his children was, hands down, the sexiest thing she’d ever seen. How she could even feel the need for him after pushing two babies out of her currently aching and severely injured body was beyond her, but just watching him bounce their fussing daughter made all those desires come roaring to the surface.
Almost as if he could sense her presence, hazel eyes slid to hers. “I’ve got her, love. Go back to sleep.” His voice remained soft as night as if anything louder would disturb her.
She curled up on her side, watching him. “I think we should get used to no sleep now.”
He huffed a laugh, patting Rosalie on her back as she further settled into the crook of his elbow.
Their daughter was almost two pounds smaller than her brother, coming in right at five whereas Ryder was a healthy six pounds, fourteen ounces. The doctor was a little concerned over Rosalie’s lower birth weight, but Elain had managed to get both babies to latch and feed earlier and she ate well, so they were mainly playing it by ear.
Because of her smaller size, Azriel already placed an order for some preemie clothes and sent a photo of her with the twins to their siblings. They asked to give them a day to recuperate before coming to the hospital in the morning. After the scare with Rosalie, both she and Azriel wanted to take some time to spend with the babies. Plus, the medical team was in and out of their room, taking Rosalie for some additional tests just to be sure everything looked good.
It was just after seven that night, and they were settling in for the evening. Tired of hospital food, Azriel ordered hamburgers from DoorDash for them to eat. Elain was starving and it sounded so good that she drooled when she suggested it to him. Both babies had been fed only an hour earlier and she anticipated not having another feeding till late evening or early morning.
Elain grabbed whatever sleep she could, knowing she’d need it when they were released in a couple of days, but she was sure Azriel hadn’t slept a wink since she’d gone into labor.
She pushed herself up, reclining on her pillows. The nurses cleaned her after the delivery and stitched her up from tearing, but Elain couldn’t wait to get home and take a proper shower. “Does she need to be changed?” she asked, nodding to the now-sleeping baby in her husband’s arms.
Azriel shook his head. “No, I think she was just fussing.” His dark hair was still mussed up from when he stripped out of his shirt earlier, taking time for skin-to-skin contact with each of the twins.
Elain had to rein in her laugh at how the nurse blushed as he revealed miles of gloriously tanned, tattooed skin and corded muscle. Her husband was a fine specimen, but he never flaunted it, so seeing another woman react to it was humorous especially since he didn’t even seem to notice her blushing, stammering state.
“You should sleep too, Az,” she said instead.
He looked at her, his lips curving up. It had been doing that a lot since the birth of the twins. The sweetest, smallest smile that crept up the corners of his mouth. Almost as if he didn’t even realize he was doing it. It was utterly adorable and made him look younger. “I’ll rest later. You need it more than me.”
Her shoulders shook in amusement. “You know, we can sleep when they do.”
“I just don’t want to miss a second of them.” His attention returned to his little girl who already had him wrapped around her finger. To be fair, all of their children did. “Fuck, I can’t believe they’re here already. It seems like it was only a month ago you found out you were pregnant.”
“I can’t believe our first anniversary is coming up in just a handful of weeks.”
At that, he laughed. “I guess a trip for our anniversary is out of the question?”
She grinned. “Not unless all our little ones are coming with us.” Because like hell was she going to be able to leave them so soon. Plus with her nursing, it just wouldn’t be ideal.
He seemed to consider her. “We could take the jet to the Summer District. Kaden will be out of school then and we’ll both still be out on leave. Just a thought.”
Gods, he was fucking perfect. “That might be nice.”
A knock on the door interrupted whatever he was going to say. He frowned in confusion, looking at her.
Elain shrugged, sitting up further on her bed. “Come in,” she called out.
She thought it might be a nurse or a doctor, coming to check on her or the twins. What she didn’t expect was for Rhys to peek his head into the room. Surprise lit her features and she glanced at Azriel, who looked equally as bewildered at the sudden visit from their brother.
“Hey,” Rhys said. “I apologize for dropping by unannounced, but somebody really couldn’t wait till tomorrow to see you.” He opened the door slightly, revealing Kaden clutching a teddy bear, eyes puffy and red from crying.
Her heart ached at the distress their son must’ve been in for Rhys to come all the way here. “Hello sweetheart,” she said, keeping her voice soft. “Come here, my love.”
He took a small step further into the room, Rhys’s hand guiding him at the backside of his head. Kaden took slow steps as he approached the side of her bed. “Momma, are you sick?”
She reached out to cup his cheek in her palm. “No, baby. I’m not sick. Your brother and sister decided it was time to come out of my tummy.” Her eyes found Azriel’s as he rose from his seat on the couch, moving toward them. “Would you like to meet them?” she asked, returning her gaze to Kaden’s.
His head dipped in confirmation.
Elain pushed herself back even more. “Rhys, can you help him up and then grab me that flat pillow over there.”
He set the boy on the bed between her spread legs, Kaden shuffling backward and bumping into her sensitive lower area.
She hissed out in pain before she could stop herself. A wave of agony washed over her with enough intensity that her stomach curdled with nausea.
Azriel reacted immediately. “Easy, buddy. Momma’s going to be sore for a while and we need to be extra careful with her.”
“I’m okay,” she spoke quickly, not wanting to upset Kaden any more than he already was, and kissed his plump cheek as she breathed through the pain. “Okay, Rhys. Place the pillow over our laps.”
Adjusting his arms in preparation, Azriel gently lowered their daughter until she comfortably rested on the nursing pillow.
“Kaden, this is your sister, Rosalie,” he announced, letting his finger stroke her rounded cheek.
Elain couldn’t see his face directly, but she did catch his eyes widening as he stared down at her, his fingers carefully tracing over her delicate features just as his father did.
“Rosawee,” he said, not quite catching the ending syllable. It would be something they would have to work on. When she kicked a leg within her swaddle, he pulled his hand back, startled.
She laughed, feeling the bed dip as Azriel sat down next to them, bringing over their son. “And this is your brother, Ryder.”
He reached out to trace the outline of his brows, the touch gentle and exploratory. “I’m a brother?” he asked, turning his head to look up at her.
“That’s right sweetheart. You’re their big brother, and they’re going to love you so much,” she told him, kissing the top of his head.
Elain took in her family, her incredible husband, and three beautiful children. It sounded so wild to even think about. She was a wife and a mother. Thinking back, she remembered the day that had changed the trajectory of her life forever. The bank robbery a few years back. It was crazy to think how such a terrifying moment altered her life in the best of ways. It brought her back to the love of her life.
It put her on this very path.
She’d face every one of the moments since then tenfold as long as it brought her to this point in time, sitting here with her gorgeous little family.
“Perfect.”
She looked up at Rhys, catching him with his phone out.
“Your first family photo.”
Her lips turned up and silver lined her eyes. “Thank you, Rhys.”
He waved her off. “Do you want me to take Kaden back with me?”
“No,” Azriel said, ruffling his eldest son’s hair. “He can stay here with us tonight. Can you put his booster seat in our car? The keys are in my bag.”
“You got it.” He grabbed the keys but paused on the threshold. “And congratulations you guys. Rosalie and Ryder are beautiful.”
Azriel leaned further into her side, kissing her temple. “Thank you, brother.” Once alone, he turned her head toward his, bringing her mouth to his for a slow, sweet kiss. “I love you so damn much, Elain.”
His smile was infectious, making her lips turn up at the corners. “Thank you, Azriel, for giving me this life—these babies. You have made me the happiest I could ever imagine. I love you.”
“Momma! She’s got my finger,” Kaden’s giggle interrupted their moment.
They laughed, looking at their three beautiful children.
Elain knew that this perfect moment was just the very beginning of the rest of their lives.
~~~~~
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eldrbraus · 1 year
Text
guess whos the idiot who forgot to use the lilia cards in the titan that regenerates until now.
i am. its me.
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sinsofsummers · 10 months
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sensational
6.9k | joel miller & f!innocent!reader part two
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this comes from this request. a few liberties were taken with the details (the reader knows that sex exists, but not much else), just fyi!
summary: thanks to becoming an orphan at age 13, you've lived the rest of your life oblivious to all the world can offer. now that you're in jackson, joel miller ignites something in you that only he can give answers to. warnings: slight angst (mentions of parent loss), innocent!fem!reader, age gap (joel is 56, reader is 25), kind of pervy!joel, smut (18+, mdni!!!), fingering, grinding, reader watches old pornos with joel, slight praise kink, no use of y/n. note: i planned originally to have this be just one part, but even though it ends in a way that i like, i could maybe be convinced to write a second part teehee (part two coming soon!)
You used to love the rain. The way it cascaded down your skin in little droplets, cleansing your body from a hard day's work, and the way it made your hair look so perfectly disheveled.
You craved the rain, until it became nothing but a reminder of the night your parents died.
It had been years at this point, but you would never quite forget how young, and small, and unsuspecting you'd been when they told you to run. How cruel, that time might pass, you might change, but with one smattering of rain, you returned so swiftly to the worst night of your life.
The three of you had been living alone, making your way...somewhere, but they never told you where. Your parents' only wish was to keep you safe, that much was clear. So it shouldn't have been a surprise that upon an ambush by at least ten clickers, after both your parents had been infected, that they'd insist that you run.
"Please, darling," your mother had pleaded, a lump in her throat as she formed the words. "Don't make me beg. I need you to run. Promise?"
Your father was somewhere else, but you could hear him yelling in the distance, in a fight for his life. You were too young, even at thirteen, to understand that those were the sounds of a dying man.
"I'll be right behind you," she'd choked on the last phrase, and in hindsight, you knew she was lying. But in the moment, you'd believed her. You couldn't see the bite she was hiding on her arm, her fate already sealed. "I'll come for you, my love," she insisted, "but I need you to go. Head for the woods."
It was the last time you saw her. You'd turned tail and had run as fast as you could for the woods.
The last thing you heard was a gunshot. A single shot, echoing around you in the trees. It may have been impossible to know, but you didn't need to turn back. Your parents were dead.
If you hadn't found Jackson, who knows how long you might have lasted. Nearing your twenty-first year, you'd proven valuable to the community, and they'd welcomed you in. Jackson was the first home you'd had since you were five.
It hadn't occurred to you that you were years behind your peers in terms of...well, everything, until you met Joel.
Rugged, tan, and sporting a perpetual frown paired with an ever-present crease between his brows, Joel Miller was your patrol partner. You weren't exactly sure why, and he didn't seem particularly pleased about it, but then again—he never seemed particularly pleased about anything.
It hadn't struck you as anything to be proud of, or to boast about to the other young women in Jackson, but they certainly loved coming up to you and expressing their jealousy when they felt so inclined.
"What's he like on patrol?" they'd ask, their eyes wide and lips curled in smirks as they waited for any insight you could give them on his mysterious personality.
All you could ever say over the next four years was a quick, "He's quiet."
Maybe that was why the two of you worked well. He wasn't much of a talker, and after you'd lost your parents, you hadn't been one to waste any breath on conversation, especially when you had survived alone with your own thoughts for almost eight years.
Silence was your mutual understanding. No talking meant no questions, and no questions meant no problems.
And this worked. Until it didn't.
-- -- --
It started like anything started. Quietly, hardly a bother, until it sank into the marrow of your bones and demanded that you address it.
More literally, it started in your shoulders. You'd been on patrol with Joel, a quiet, "Let's go," his only words to you that morning. They were his only words to you every morning, and that day was no different.
Patrolling with him was easy. Like you'd said—no talking, so no problems. You rode next to each other on your respective horses, and there was nothing more than a glance or two toward each other when necessary. It was the only form of communication that the two of you shared.
His big brown eyes had always startled you, looking so inviting in the contrast of the white snow during the winter, but they never showed you more than he allowed you to see. And all you saw of Joel was his dedication to sleep, patrol, eat, and repeat.
You hadn't felt the desire to look that closely at him until some of the girls in Jackson asked you how big his hands were, or what he looked like up close.
"You know," one of them had crooned, not realizing you were unsure of their intentions, "what does he look like without that big old coat on?"
You'd shrugged. "Why should I know?"
Another one wiggled her eyebrows. "Doesn't it get...lonely out there? Nothing but you, the snow, and a big man like Joel to keep you company?"
The faces of those girls, the glint in their eyes, it was something you couldn't quite decipher, as much as you wished you could. So one day, you'd asked the man himself what it all meant.
When you said it for the first time, it was so quiet that you could hardly even hear yourself.
Joel grunted, the only indication that he'd heard you.
Your cheeks burned, but you couldn't find a reason why. This was just Joel. He seemed to know everything there was to know about life; surely he could help you understand this. "Why do the girls in town keep asking me what it's like to patrol with you?"
He didn't answer for a second, but then shrugged. "They botherin' you?"
"No." You weren't quite sure that was true, and knowing him, he could probably hear the lie in your voice. "They're just kind of...belligerent."
His eyebrow cocked. "S'a big word," he mused. "Sure you know what it means?"
Your cheeks grew hot. "Yes," you insisted sharply. "I do read, you know."
He murmured a response, but the wind carried it away from you. You rode in silence for a bit longer before he said, "Don't let those girls get in your head. I think they just wanna get a rise outta you."
"A rise?"
Joel nodded and brought his horse to a routine stop. This was where the two of you always stretched your legs. He reached up to help you down your own mount and set you on the ground gingerly. "You know," he said, as if you should know, but with no regard for the fact that you didn't. "You're still kinda new here. Seems they're still pretty dead-set on embarrassin' you."
"I'm not embarrassed," you insisted again. "I just...is there a joke I'm not getting?"
"Any reason you chose to talk so much today?" was his only answer, which made your stomach clench.
There was no reason for you to be offended, as it was your typical routine to remain quiet unless absolutely necessary, but you couldn't help the way your lips curved downward. "Sorry," you mumbled, "forget I asked."
He was quiet again as the two of you walked at least two hundred paces, stretching out your sore muscles in the snow. It used to be comforting, the silence. It wasn't maddening, it didn't ever bother you if Joel was in his thoughts. You weren't even sure at times if he had any. But all that had changed now; his brow creased more than it usually did, and you wanted nothing more than to ask him what he was thinking.
Joel was the one constant in your life now. Maybe it was a—well, probably it was a trauma response from losing your parents, but you couldn't help it. You didn't need much from anyone, just someone to stay. Joel was strong enough to take care of himself and was smart enough not to make any rash decisions. As far as you could tell, he'd stay.
So how could you be so embarrassed by asking these questions?
"I forgot how long you said you were...alone out there," his grunting voice filled the space between you once more. It was quiet, and he sounded hesitant, as if he wasn't sure how to speak.
"Since I was thirteen," you said mechanically, so familiar with others in Jackson asking the same question.
"Shit," he cursed under his breath. "And you're how old?"
"Twenty-five," you said, feeling oddly small in his presence.
He shook his head. "That's a long time to be alone," he muttered, blowing out a breath.
You huffed. "Yeah, well, I survived. And besides, I've been here for four years now, you know."
"I know."
Again, the silence. Infuriating.
Then, you couldn't help it. "What's...'spooning,' and why do those girls ask me if we've done it?"
Joel stumbled, reaching out for balance. His hand found purchase on your shoulder, and you caught him awkwardly. "You don't even know what spooning is?" He sounded incredulous, as if you'd asked a juvenile question.
The warmth from his hand was astonishing, and distracted you from your embarrassment, if only for a moment. It sank through his glove into your coat, and down toward your skin. Something about the weight of his hand on your shoulder, even for a second as he removed it quickly, was enough to send you spiraling.
Your face burned. "Never mind," you said quietly and mounted your horse again. How stupid could you get? You scolded yourself. You'd ventured too far into this conversation, and now you didn't know how to get yourself out of it. "I was just...never mind. We should get back."
He nodded, but his face still looked somewhat pinched. "Yeah. S'getting dark."
The sun was still up. No intention of sinking beneath the horizon for at least a few hours. You rode again in uncomfortable silence, this time letting it fill the space. You foolishly thought that maybe if you were quiet long enough, he'd forget that you'd made a fool of yourself, that you'd exposed yourself to the truth: that you knew hardly anything about...anything except for survival instincts.
When Joel spoke again, it surprised you. "I didn't mean to tease ya," he said. "It's just kind of a surprise that you're not...that you don't..." he looked over at you, and there was some type of pleading in his eyes, as if he were begging you not to make him say it.
"That I don't what?" you said dumbly, hoping you didn't sound as childish as you felt.
He pondered his next words carefully, and then he hummed, "If you want, I could...teach you some stuff."
"Like spooning?" You felt a warmth in your face as you watched his shoulders hunch with a soft laughter. Your own shoulder burned where he'd touched it, and something bloomed in your gut.
He chuckled. "I don't know about all that," he said, "but I'll help you get...back on track. Would hate for someone to take advantage of your...innocence." It sounded sinful, the way he said it, and the something in your gut pulsed.
"You don't have to," you shook your head, but you didn't even believe the words as they came out of your mouth. "I'll just ask someone else."
"Darlin', don't trust anyone else to give you straight answers. I'm older'n half of everyone in Jackson, anyway." He flashed you a look. "I'll help. Whatever you want to know."
You bit the insides of your cheeks, your stomach turning strangely. "Anything?"
He nodded dutifully, but his eyes had already left yours. Joel Miller, ever the professional. "Whatever you want."
-- -- --
Joel liked to consider himself someone who would never again suffer the shock of surprises. After having lived through and seen more shit than any normal person could, he thought he'd experienced it all.
That is, until her pretty lips had opened and asked him to teach her about all she'd missed. Until she asked him to teach her.
He hadn't really seen her as the picture of innocence until he'd heard how long she'd been alone, surviving with no one and nothing besides her own thoughts and the clothes on her back.
The least her parents could do was teach her how to shoot, he'd thought when he first met her. It was a curiosity that was quickly resolved, as she'd proven herself valuable to Jackson.
Tommy had wasted no time putting them on patrol together. "It'll be good for you," his brother had reasoned when he brought up concerns. "You know, to talk to someone out there. I know she's on the young side, but you don't gotta fall in love with her." He'd flashed an apologetic smile when Joel had scowled. "You're scarin' everyone, Joel. Bein' all quiet and shit...it's—"
"It's what?" he'd asked gruffly. "I don't do it on purpose. I'm a grown man."
This was all true, and he very much didn't do it on purpose. With no one around whom he deemed worthy of his conversation, Joel Miller had become the quiet, introspective version of himself that everyone decided to become scared of all of a sudden.
The way he saw things? It wasn't his fault everyone in Jackson was boring. Or childish.
But her. With her unmistakable will to survive and those eyes that could burn fierce with ire one moment, and soften with curiosity the next...it was only a matter of time before he agreed to do whatever she asked.
He should have seen it coming, especially considering her past. Every time he thought of just how...unsuspecting she was about...everything, he had to shake his head, clearing it of any thoughts that threatened to take advantage of her.
But being ignorant of spooning. He had to clear his throat every time he thought of what that might mean for himself in this particular arrangement. If she knew nothing of something so...palatable, he could hardly help himself when thinking of what else she might be unaware of.
He tried to be patient, and he tried to be respectful, but at the end of the day, he was Joel Miller. From the moment she looked at him with those wide eyes, he was lost.
-- -- --
"What I would give to give that man the ride of his life," one of the girls next to you hummed at breakfast the next morning, her eyes presumably glued to Joel, who'd just come into the cafeteria. You didn't look up at him, instead casting a confused glance toward the girl who'd spoken.
"Ride where?" You cursed your quick instinct to ask questions, as the girls erupted into a fit of giggles. Face burning, you looked down again at your plate. "Never mind," came your almost instantaneous response. You were getting used to having to apologize for your ignorance, and people rarely—especially not these girls—offered their kindness.
One of the other girls snickered. "Why don't you ask him? I'm sure there's nothing much to talk about out there anyway," she said, smiling widely. Her next words were nothing short of a drawl, the complete essence of mockery. "'Joel, what's it mean to ride?'" she pinched her face in what you assumed was an impression of you, and it only made your eyebrows furrow despite your stomach sinking in utter horror.
And then there he was. He'd called your name, and now he was standing behind your left shoulder, hand outstretched to save you.
You were sure his hand had never looked quite as appealing as it did now. The calluses on his palm were raised and visibly rough. For a moment, you stared at his fingers and wondered what they might feel like against your cheek.
Swallowing a lump in your throat, that something arose in your gut once more before you heard him murmur your name again.
"Come on," he grunted, but there was a gentleness to it that made the hair on the nape of your neck stand on end. "Time to go."
The girls at your table were silent when you took his hand gingerly and let him lead you from the cafeteria. You noted the swift wave of cold that hit your hand as soon as he dropped it, just a second later. Clasping your hands together, you hoped in a fit of desperation that you might preserve some of the weight and warmth of his touch on your skin. It failed.
"Thanks," you said later, when the two of you were outside the community's borders. Jackson felt a bit too stuffy for any real admissions of gratitude, you'd decided. It turned out to be a good conclusion when you felt the delicious churn of your stomach at the idea of being alone with him once more.
I'm sure there's nothing much to talk about out there anyway, one of the girls had said. Doesn't it get lonely out there? You were reminded of another's teasing, and this time your cheeks burned at the memory. Nothing but you, the snow, and a big man like Joel to keep you company.
He was big, you considered. When he stood next to you, his frame was almost larger than life, and his shoulders were sinfully broad when you watched him walk in front of you on previous patrols. The sheer size of him was enough to send you into a heady descent.
As usual, Joel didn't answer for what felt like ages, and you'd begun to wonder if he could see where your train of thought had led you. Then:
"You could have told me they were bein' that outrageous," he grunted, keeping his eyes forward. "I woulda helped you out sooner. S'no fun feelin' left outta everything."
It was...odd to hear such words come from a man like Joel. Although, you reminded yourself, you'd hardly spoken to him in the four years that you'd been in Jackson; who was to say he wasn't normally like this? A quiet, brooding older man, yes; but maybe he was naturally like this. One to offer his help.
"If you wanted to help, you would have made an effort four years ago." You let your words hang in the air. You didn't mean for them to come off sharp; it was simply the truth. "I don't need your help," you added, tightening your hands on the reins of your horse and swallowing roughly. "It was fine. I am fine."
He flashed you a look as if to say, is that so? You couldn't help but notice the way the corners of his eyes creased, the only sign of amusement. It was all you could do to keep your eyes on him, although you weren't sure how you were going to explain the way your mouth went dry at the sight of his big brown eyes.
"Besides," you insisted quietly, "you're not my dad."
Joel cleared his throat. Looked down, shoulders tense. Inhaled. "No," he said decidedly. "No, I'm not."
Emboldened by this clarification, you inquired, "So what did those girls mean earlier? Riding, I mean?"
If you could have guaranteed the image of Joel's eyes going wide in surprise to remain in your head for the rest of your days, you would have done it instantly. His forehead was creased as his eyebrows lifted, and despite his position facing away from you, you could see it all.
The way he seemed to wrestle with himself before answering, the way his hands seemed to clench in his gloves. "So, uh..." he started, and then paused again. Mustering up whatever courage he needed, Joel finished, "Well, ya see, when a man and woman love each other very much—"
"Joel." Oh. You couldn't help it when a breathless chuckle left your lips.
He was silent, and when he finally answered, it wasn't a question. "What."
"I'm not fucking stupid. I know how reproduction works."
Joel's chest rose and fell in a deep sigh, and you couldn't ignore the look of complete relief that washed over his rough features. "Thank fuckin' Christ. Didn't know if I had it in me for another sex talk. I'm too old to be doin' this."
"Believe it or not, my parents did leave me with the basic information." Swallowing roughly, you continued. "And I know...I know that men usually...take. It's an assertion of power, from what I've...seen."
He shook his head. "Guess I shouldn't be surprised that you've run into your fair share of dirtbags, even in the middle of the world goin' to shit." He ran a gloved hand through his hair, and you secretly enjoyed the way it stood up. "Anyone ever, you know...take...from you?"
Hearing your own words regurgitated back to you left you feeling fluttery. Shaking your head, you got down from your horse; you'd reached your typical resting spot. "No," you said firmly. "They never wanted me."
Joel nodded. "S'good," he said, and it bothered you to no end that you couldn't understand the emotion in his voice. "So..."
By now he was standing next to you, closer than you were used to, judging by the way his coat sleeve bumped yours as the two of you walked, stretching your legs. "So," you said, thinking up a way to make this conversation less awkward. "I just hate feeling like a kid again. I'm twenty-five, for fuck's sake. There's more than just survival when it comes to living. I just want to know what I'm missing out on," you confessed with a hand on your stomach.
When Joel brushed by your side again your stomach flipped. And what the fuck is that about, and why do I keep feeling it? You asked inwardly, but you were too nervous to ask. Bombarding Joel with questions, especially after you'd just started talking to him on patrol after four years, seeming to be the wrong path to take.
He shrugged, eyebrows still furrowed in thought. "There's nothing to miss if you don't know what you're missin'."
"Yes," you admitted, "but that doesn't stop any of those girls from making me feel like I'm..."
"Innocent?" he murmured, and you thought you weren't meant to hear it until he turned to look at you.
Those big brown eyes, they just won't quit, a voice nudged you in your head.
"I don't want to be innocent," you groaned, throwing your head back. "God, not in the sense that they see me in. Sounds like a damn curse."
The sound of his rumbling laughter, however quiet, sent a shock down your spine and you nearly tripped in the snow. "There's pros and cons, I s'pose," he offered. "It's like I said: I'll help you get back on track. If that's what you really want."
"It is." You stopped walking, took a look around at the landscape, otherwise empty with the scattering of trees. You swallowed, pressed one. "So...riding. It's a part of reproducing, then?"
He chuckled again, but this time it didn't come off as demeaning. It was like he was teasing you, but good-naturedly. "Let's not jump too far ahead of ourselves, yeah? Start with somethin' smaller. Then we'll work our way up."
Joel's eyes were piercing when he held yours in his gaze. If someone watched this conversation, you were sure they'd be able to see the blush blooming on your cheeks.
"Learnin' takes time, ya know," he mused, his growling voice nearly a hum that could have warmed you from the inside out.
You'd made it to the edge of the woods now. This was normally where you turned back, heading for home. But neither of you moved. The bubble of something pulsed again, and you swallowed roughly before whispering hoarsely, "So where should we start?"
-- -- --
If Joel were a better man, he might have warned her what the curse of innocence in a young woman could be. He might have shook his head, stepped back, and told her to ask someone else. He might have taken the reins and turned the two of them back toward Jackson.
If he were better, he wouldn't have stepped closer to her. If he were a better man, he wouldn't have looked into her sparkling eyes and let the question slip. Fuck it all.
"You ever been kissed, darlin'?"
-- -- --
You swallowed. Don't make a fool of yourself, you begged yourself before answering with a quiet shake of your head. "Not many contenders out there. Not any good ones, anyway."
He'd leaned closer to you with his question, and now you could practically see each line of age in his face. Joel's expression was unclear; he could have been pleased with this information or...or maybe there was pity in his eyes. "No," he said with an understanding nod. "No, I suppose there wouldn't have been."
He lifted a gloved hand to his mouth and you watched as he traced it along his lips. The gray strands in his hair glinted off the sunlight, blinking pleasantly in your eyes. That something pulsed once more in your stomach, and there was a sort of realization that came with it.
Joel, you thought. Joel is making me feel like this.
"Will you kiss me?" The words were out of your mouth before you could reel them in.
But instead of laughing, or scoffing, or giving any sign of mockery, Joel Miller inhaled quietly. "You know how much older I am than you?" he asked.
You nodded. "We're both adults, Joel. Besides," you felt a ghost of a smirk come to grace your lips, a feigned confidence coming to save you in this moment of truth. "I thought you told me to ask you these questions."
He sighed. "You're right."
"So? Will you?" you asked, with a small, "please?" coming out afterward.
He moved slowly, something you were equally thankful for as you were frustrated with, but his forehead met yours soon enough. His eyelashes brushed against your cheek, and he let out a shaky breath, letting it fan deliciously across your face. The knowledge that he was just as nervous as you were was not only a comfort; it was perhaps the most attractive thing you'd ever known.
And when you lifted your chin, just a hairsbreadth from his lips, your eyes fluttered closed, waiting for him to meet you in the middle. It only took a moment before he was closing his mouth over yours, and Joel Miller was kissing you.
He was gentle, of course, but there was something restrained about his kiss, the way he slowly slotted his lips over yours as if you might crack under any more pressure. It only made you want more, more, more...
You pressed your hands to his chest and curled them into fists, tugging his jacket to lessen the distance between your bodies even more. You didn't know how you were doing this, how you'd managed to find confidence in what could have easily been a humiliating experience. Your first kiss at twenty-five? With anyone else, it might have been a nightmare.
With Joel, it was turning out to be the most delightful dream.
"So soft, baby," he pulled back to whisper against your mouth. "These lips are so soft for me."
You hummed your response and pulled him back to you, letting him see that you wanted more. That incessant pressure was building, and it wasn't until he had his arms sliding around your waist that you forced yourself to pull back, head spinning. "Joel."
He blinked. "What? Too fast?" He shook his head. "I'm sorry, darlin', you're just so—"
"No, that's not it." You managed a weak smile, but the look in his eye, the question and the undeniable desire—is that what it looks like?—quivering in his brown irises, nearly made you collapse. He waited for you to continue, his hands never leaving you, a courtesy you were grateful for. "I feel...hot." Your cheeks warmed. "Um, there's this...pressure."
His lips closed in a tight smirk, and he squeezed your hips. "Where, baby?" he murmured, and you could have sworn you saw stars outlining his head at the sound of the pet name. "Show me," he cooed.
"Um." You paused, unsure of just how. But with his hands on your waist, his heavy, warm touch melting you on the spot, you took one of his gloved hands in yours and guided him to your stomach. "Here. Kind of."
"Yeah?" he said, and you forgot about the cold. About your horses waiting to be mounted, about your other responsibilities in Jackson. All you could see were his dark eyes that had somehow grown darker as you pushed his hand down, down, down...
"Fuck, babygirl," he cursed, and let his hand rest on the crux of your thighs, just barely pressing on the source of the tingling sensation. If anything, it made it worse, and you let a breathy whine fall from your lips. "You're gonna be the death of me, huh?" he groaned.
You couldn't form words. Just one kiss (a very good kiss, mind you) and a heavy hand on your core was all it took, apparently. You could hardly look anywhere but his face, your mouth dropping open as your hips moved of their own accord, grinding into his hand before you realized you were doing it. "Joel—" you whimpered, and he pulled his hand away.
There wasn't enough time for you to feel jilted, as he tugged you back to your horse and practically launched you onto it himself. "We're goin' back," he said firmly, "now."
Swallowing, your throat dry and rough, you pressed a hand to your cheek, feeling the heat swimming under your skin. "Did I do something wrong?"
You could hardly see him shake his head as he mounted his own horse, looking back at you to make sure you were following him. "'Course not," he called over his shoulder. When you caught up with him, the two of you shoulder-to-shoulder, he continued. "Look, darlin', f'I'm gonna be givin' you your first kiss and makin' you feel that good..." he sighed, his dark eyes finding yours. "I'm not doin' it in a fuckin' snowbank."
-- -- --
The entire ride back to Jackson was painfully long, silent but for Joel's mumbled directions, despite the fact that the two of you had taken this same route countless times in the four years that you patrolled together.
Your eyes were trained forward, and you knew his were as well, but it took everything in you not to glance at him even for a second. If you did, you were afraid that the pressure building in the crux of your thighs would never go away.
It would be unfair to say that you were completely unaware of what might happen when you got back to Jackson, but you still didn't know much, which left a nervous bubble rising in your gut. It wasn't like there were any books left in Jackson that you could read about it, or any movies that Maria would allow to remain in the community's borders.
Again, you got a wave of feeling like this should have concerned you, or at least made you a little anxious. But with Joel pulling ahead, his strong back the only thing you could look at, you felt the knot of tension release in your stomach. This was Joel. After four years—even four mostly silent years—of working together, you felt like you...knew him, somehow. That he couldn't possibly lead you astray.
Sure enough, when you were both within the borders, horses returned safely to their stables, the tension returned. Or had it ever really dissipated?
Joel hovered close to you as you left the stables. "Let's go, darlin'," he breathed, a gloved hand on your lower back as he guided you.
"Where?" you said, and you hoped it didn't sound as desperate as it did to you, the pressure getting worse. "I need—"
"I know, baby, I know," he cooed gently, his head on a swivel as if looking for anyone who might stop you. "We're goin' to mine. I've got the perfect lesson planned for ya, alright?"
It was all you could do to nod and let him push you forward through the snowy streets. If only those girls could see you now.
Once inside, you took a breath. There was no one around, and once the door closed behind you, the silence felt all the more heavy. "Ellie?" you asked, if only in courtesy.
He shook his head, and you bit your lip when you saw him smirk. "Just us, doll."
Joel shed his outer layers, and when he stood in front of you, you realized that this was the first time you'd seen him without his coat. Without his gloves, aside from that morning.
Your eyes snagged on his fingers, and you swallowed roughly when you saw the way they twitched, as if in anticipation for something. Or maybe he was holding himself back, you considered. His jaw did seem to have an impatient clench to it. Hands rough like you knew they would be, it didn't take long for your mind to wander into thinking of what it might be like to feel those hands on your skin.
With any luck, he'd give you the sweet release you craved, however it would unfold.
"See anything you like?" he teased, and your cheeks warmed.
"Sorry," you fumbled for a response, your eyes dropping. You'd meant to clear your head, but then your eyes were caught on his thighs. Specifically how hard the seams on his jeans were fighting to remain unripped. "Um, a lesson, you said?"
He nodded, reaching out a hand to take your own coat off, leaving you in the sweater and pants you'd had on all day. You were sure your hair was knotted and would be for days, but he only smoothed a hand down your face, letting you lean into his touch. His fingers were still cold, but your face was hot and it offered a dizzying sense of relief.
"I could never teach you all this," he murmured, his thumb rubbing back and forth in an absentminded swipe across your cheek. "Not without getting...distracted," he finished, pressing his other hand to your waist. Underneath the thick layer of your coat, his hand felt like a hot iron scorching your skin, despite there still being a few layers of clothes between your bodies.
"Distraction is okay," you breathed, lifting a hand to cup his on your waist. "Right?"
He shook his head, a chuckle lifting from deep in his chest. "Not tonight," he whispered. "Tonight, I want to stick to the plan."
"Which is?"
Wordlessly, he removed the hand on your waist and entwined it with your own, tugging you toward the living room where an old television had been placed on a rickety-looking shelf. "Sit," he directed, and you did so without hesitation. He paused, biting back a smile at your eager cooperation, and adjusted himself.
It occurred to you that as much as you were affected by him, he was experiencing a similar effect from you. His pants, already tighter than sin, seemed to have become even tighter, as a bulge began to grow while he stood just a few feet from your face.
"Joel—"
"No, no," he waved a dismissive hand and went to the television to grab something. He came back with something you recognized: a VHS tape. "Don't worry 'bout me, sweets. Tonight's just for you."
"We're gonna watch a movie?" you asked, trying to ignore the way your heart sank a little. You had been hoping that the two of you would kiss some more, and maybe even...you didn't even know the name for it.
"Not just any movie," he grinned, putting it in to watch. The video started. "A special one."
When the scene opened on a man and a woman in the throes of passion, you gasped. "No way," you whispered. "I thought Maria—"
He shrugged, sinking down on the couch beside you, his knee bumping yours. "She must've missed this one," was all he said.
The woman looked to be enjoying herself, as her scene partner kissed her neck, dragging his tongue from the dip in her clavicle to the curve of skin where her neck met her ear. A cartoon-ish moan left her lips, but you didn't pay it any mind. The sight of it made your thighs clench together subconsciously, the lick of pressure rising again in your center.
"Joel—"
"Shh," he said gently. "C'mere, darlin'." With no more than a heavy hand on your waist, he tugged you closer to him, situating you over his lap. "Comfortable?"
You almost said no; you knew that this wouldn't be an acceptable seating arrangement in the cafeteria (or anywhere public, for that matter), but when his hands landed on your thighs, you nodded swiftly. His fingers curled around your skin, and you could feel every pulse of his heartbeat through his fingertips, poised as if he might spread your legs from where they were squeezed together between his own thighs.
Something hard and solid nudged at your core, and you couldn't help it when you leaned back into his chest, head tilting back to rest on his shoulder. A breathy moan tumbled from your lips, and your stomach fluttered when you felt his chest rumble with a chuckle.
"That quick, baby?" he whispered, his breath fanning over your neck. "You really are a sweet young thing, aren't ya," he teased, pressing his nose to the joint between your jaw and your neck, "fallin' apart for me already?" He rocked his hips forward, his bulge pressing harder against you, and it nearly sent you into a spiral.
You swallowed, your throat dry. The sounds of the movie seemed far away as you opened your eyes and looked at his beard, peppered with gray and scratching at your chin when he leaned over you. "Joel," you whispered, bringing your hands to cover his own on your thighs, "I-I want to know everything." You'd never meant anything more fervently, more desperately, than this.
If you'd known how addicting this could feel, being so close to him, feeling his hands on you, perhaps you would have been embarrassed at the way your hips began rubbing yourself on his lap, hoping for—you didn't even know what could be after this. You just knew that the way you felt was the most intense thing you'd felt in your entire life, and you wanted to keep feeling this way, as long as you could.
Joel tutted, squeezing his hands on your thighs. "Oh, look at you," he groaned, a deep, carnal noise that made your chest constrict, "you're a natural, doll." His lips brushed your shoulder, and he darted his tongue out to lick a small strip up your neck.
Your heart swelled with the praise, and it was all you could do not to squeeze your eyes shut. "Please," you begged quietly, as if someone might hear you.
"I know, baby, I know," he crooned, dark eyes locked onto your own as his hand crept closer—to your waistband—closer—unzipping your pants—closer...there.
Your hips lifted from his lap with the heady sensation of his fingers pressed to a bundle of nerves between your legs. "Joel—!" you squeaked.
You felt him smile against your cheek. "So wet," he murmured, "so slick for my fingers, baby." He began rubbing that spot in tight circles, a slow, torturous pace. "Let me know when you're gonna come, yeah?"
"When I..." you trailed off. You'd never...how would you know? "I don't..."
Joel hummed in your ear, rocking his hips again and releasing a guttural groan. "S'okay, pretty girl," he reassured you, "I'll be gentle. Lemme know when it feels like it's too much. "I've gotcha."
You were too far gone to doubt him. This was Joel. He wouldn't let you fall, as much as you felt like you were going to slide to the floor at the feeling of his hand coming up from your leg to caress your breast, rolling a nipple between his fingertips. A strangled mix between a cry and a moan left your lips, and with one more kiss to your brow paired with a quick swipe of his finger over your ever-sensitive bud—
Something gave way and you jerked your head back, digging into his shoulder. Your legs spasmed and you squeezed your hand over Joel's, holding his hand in place underneath your panties.
"Fuck, doll, just like that," he encouraged you. "Look at you, eyes rollin' back for me. Shakin' like a good girl." His hips tensed beneath you and you felt his chest shudder as he released a punishing moan. "Got me feelin' like a damn teenager, comin' in my jeans."
His fingers stilled, but his hand didn't move. Your legs slowly stopped shaking, and the solid mass beneath you was softening. You let out a sigh, your eyelids fluttering closed. Your cheeks were flushed, you could tell; but this time, it wasn't embarrassment that brought the warmth to your face.
"You okay?" he murmured, carefully removing his hands from their places on you. "Feel alright, darlin'?"
Your head turned, nestling into the crook of his neck. Nodding quietly, you shifted in his lap. "I...I didn't know it could be like that," you shivered.
Joel paused the video, the living room falling quiet around you. Swinging a hand under your legs and tugging you to a more comfortable position over his lap, he raised his fingers to his lips, glistening with the remnants of your desire. Your jaw slackened when you watched him open his mouth, lapping at the tips of his fingers.
"Trust me, doll," he said with a glint in his eye. You whimpered in anticipation as he reached to brush a strand of hair from your face. "I've got so much more to teach you."
tysm for reading! you made it to the end! part two is in the works posted!
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buckyalpine · 7 months
Text
I'm just throwing out an idea while attending to my garden of boundless wips but just imagine the compound getting attacked and the one area that's the most damaged is the lab. Hackers want to steal all the Stark technology and they stop at nothing, waiting for the team to leave before they destroy the building, blowing the structure till it crumbles. The only one still remaining in the building is the lab tech.
The jet nears the compound; Tony and Steve are already suited up again while Sam adjusts his wings, Nat and Clint armed and ready to go.
Everyone but Bucky.
"Tony was anyone still in the building?" His face is filled with horror, staring at the smoke emitting from the areas that were hit, his heart hammering against his chest.
"My lab tech, y/n, she was still working when we left" Tony ran a hand over his face and the color drains from Bucky's cheeks.
"WHERE IS SHE" Bucky does everything in his power not to lose control, snapping back into soldier mode and strapping his weapons, shoving past Steve so he can jump out first as they near the compound.
"Barnes its okay, we'll find her" Tony reassures him but he can't hide the confusion on his face because why on earth was Bucky this concerned over his lab assistant. They had never spoken a word to each other, in fact he didn't even realize Bucky knew you existed.
"She's pregnant!" Bucky had never sounded so scared in his life, pulling himself together to keep from breaking down.
"What-when-how-how do you know" Tony had never felt more confused in his life while the others all whip their heads around, shocked at what he'd just said.
"That's my wife"
The jet doors open and Bucky is the first one out, sprinting through smoke and flames till he gets to the worst part of what's left, debris and rubble scattered over the floor. Bodies hit the floor as he takes out anyone that he sees without a second guess. He frantically searches, holding back his emotions till he spots the broken glasses first. Dust and crumbles cement cover your unconscious form, blood dripping from you forehead and he doesn't pause to try and wake you up himself.
She's in his arms and he's rushing to the med wing while the rest of the team trail behind him, seeing as he's already killed anyone that broke in. Once your taken in, all he can do is wait, pacing up and down the hall till he's given the all clear to see you. He sits by your bed, desperately holding onto your hand, Steve being the first to check on his best friend while the the others quietly enter after.
No one breathes a word till you finally open your eyes, giving you and Bucky privacy till you're ready to see the others. He's tucked into bed with you as they enter, his arm wrapped around your tummy, rubbing soft circles with his metal hand. You weren't showing much yet, seeing as it was still early on.
"Okay, spill, when did you marry my lab tech" Tony playfully teased while Bucky blushed, hugging you closer.
"Last year" He admitted, while Steve smirked, coming over to check on you.
"Doing okay sweetheart?" The blonde asked, plopping down on a chair beside your bed, smiling when you nodded, "How's my godchild"
"You knew?" Sam wacked Steve's shoulder only to be met with a snicker from both soldiers.
"Who do you think was the bestman" The captain smiled proudly while you giggled, giving Tony a sheepish smile.
"I was gonna tell you Mr. Stark"
"When, did you think I wouldn't notice a little super soldier running around the lab?" He cocked an eyebrow with a smile.
"You knew?" Sam repeated, still deeply offended while Steve shook his head, kissing your forehead before getting up so you could get some rest. The rest of the team followed after, deciding to bombard the two of you with questions after you'd slept.
"YOU KNEW?"
"Give it a rest Sam"
"I'm sorry, Mr. Almighty Captain, Never lies, Sir Honest A Lot, YOU KNEW?"
"Sam"
"YOU KNEW?!"
I'm sorry, this wasn't the most organized drabble, just an idea I wanted to toss out into the world.
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teapartyprincess4two · 2 months
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can you write another Matt story? I'm obsessed with your writing!! <3
Manage- M. Sturniolo
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pairing: Secretary!reader x Boss!Matt
classification: smut w/ a plot
warnings: 18+, MDNI, use of y/n, power dynamic, sexual content, suggestive content, slight cursing, mentions of alcohol use, mentions of jealousy, literal sex
summary: You’re Matt’s secretary, in charge of overseeing everything related to his schedule. Everyday when you come into the office he suppresses the urge to take you then and there. When on a work business trip, he can’t hold back anymore.
You loved your job, not because it was your dream job, but because it was easy. You went into work, did what you had to do, and at the end of the day you could go home and disconnect from it entirely. There were some odd days when your boss, Matthew, would call you in your days off or call you from home to ask about something. But, for the most part, you could completely forget about the job once you clocked out.
Just because the job was easy doesn’t mean that there wasn’t rules to be followed. As the boss of a world renowned magazine company, Matt always made sure to enforce them. For example, deadlines had to be met, sales were critical, and the workplace environment was meant to remain professional. He was a strict, straightforward boss and didn’t play when it came to the rules. Another one of his big rules was time management, he hated when people were late.
You were running a little late today, and as the boss’s secretary that was completely unacceptable. You stayed up late last night with an old friend, catching up on life and drinking one too many glasses of wine. Before you knew it, it was midnight and you still weren’t home. By the time you fell asleep it was already 3 in the morning. As a result, this morning you woke up late, you had to force yourself out of bed and rush to get ready.
So, now you’re walking into the office an hour late wearing an outfit you would’ve never picked out if you were in your right state of mind. You avoid eye contact with your coworkers as you make your way to your desk that’s situated in yours and Matt’s shared office. That was the worst part, out of all your coworkers you were the only one who had to be with the boss throughout the entire work day. There was no room for mistakes, especially on your part.
��You’re late,” Matt grumbles as he watches you dump your things onto your desk. You looked frazzled, but he wasn’t going to make an exception for you just because you were his secretary. Sure he’d built a rapport with you from working alongside you all these years, but if he made an exception for you then he’d have to do it for everyone.
“I know, I’m so sorry Mr. Sturniolo,” you reply meekly, avoiding eye contact out of embarrassment. You hated this, you felt like a school girl getting reprimanded for missing homework. If he wasn’t such a strict boss, maybe you’d take the time to explain why you were late, but you knew better than that. He would just see it as an excuse and write you off as a lazy employee.
Matt takes a long look at you, you were wearing a skirt that was definitely not workplace appropriate. He hated how easily he got riled up at the sight of your legs. He looks away immediately, training his gaze on the computer in his desk. “I’ve got a lot of meetings today, Y/n. I need you performing at your best potential, so get it together,” he says sternly, trying to think about anything other than you in that tiny skirt. You finally situate yourself at your desk, adjusting your skirt so it won’t ride up. It’s no use, this skirt was definitely not meant for the office.
“Yes, sir,” you reply, turning on your computer and preparing yourself for the long work day ahead.
For the rest of the day you sit in business meetings taking notes and writing down important dates and deadlines. For the most part, you’re really bored, but you were already late today and can’t afford another mistake, so you try your best to pay attention so you don’t miss anything.
Matt sits next to you, watching as you mindlessly take notes on what the presenter is saying. These meetings were very important and it was imperative that he paid attention too, but he couldn’t help but let his eyes wander down to your legs. They’re crossed under the table, your ankle swaying back and forth rhythmically. If he could, he’d crawl under the table and spread your leg-
“Okay, Mr. Sturniolo, you’re up,” the presenter suddenly says, breaking him from his thoughts. Matt coughs awkwardly, adjusting his pants slightly to hide his growing erection. He stands from his seat, taking the remote clicker from the man and continuing the presentation.
Matt knows this information like the back of his hand, it’s all numbers and statistics that he’s memorized over the course of managing such a large company, but as you sit there with your legs on full display he can’t think straight. He stutters throughout the entire presentation and at one point completely zones out with thoughts of you bent over the desk, pushed up against the wall, or even squirming in your seat.
“Sir?” you ask timidly, he’s been quiet for a while and is just staring down at you. His eyes pierce into you, lighting your skin on fire. The other men were looking around confused as to why the presentation stopped.
Your voice breaks him from his thoughts yet again and he coughs awkwardly for the second time. “Would you like me to get you a water?” you ask politely, standing from your seat. As you do this, your legs uncross and Matt catches a glimpse of your lacy underwear. His brain is on fire with thoughts of you.
He forces himself to look away with a clenched jaw as you quickly adjust your skirt. “Yes that would be nice. Thank you, Y/n,” he finally manages to say. You nod your head and excuse yourself from the group of men briefly.
All of the men allow their eyes to wander on your body, taking you in like a tall drink of water. They were all silently wishing they had a secretary like you.
“Pretty girl you got there,” one man comments as he leans forward in his seat to watch you walk down the hall. The skirt ended right above the edge of your ass, lifting slightly with each sway of your hips.
Matt sends him a warning glare before returning back to the presentation.
“Don’t forget to book the flights for the company trip. You and I will be leaving two days early to make sure everything is in order. Make sure you account for that, okay?” Matt says as he rapidly walks from the conference room to your shared office. You walk behind him, holding your skirt down with your left hand as your right arm is holding the papers from the previous meeting. Matt needed to walk in front of you or he’d be staring at your ass and legs, unable to concentrate on anything else.
“Are you catching all of this?” He asks, waving his hand in the air to catch your attention.
“Yes sir, I’m just um- I’m struggling with these papers,” you admit, adjusting the stack of papers again so they won’t fall to the floor. He stop his rapid walking and looks back at you, feeling bad for leaving you with the brunt of the work all the time. If he was honest, he was very harsh with you and would often overwork you, but it was because he always found himself staring and admiring at you. If he wasn’t so harsh with you then he’d certainly cross the line of professionalism in your relationship and entire uncharted territory.
Matt takes the stack of papers from you, mumbling a small sorry as he does it. He’s careful not to graze your skin, knowing that your simple touch would send him into a frenzy. He couldn’t trust himself yet, especially not with the skirt you’re wearing. He needs an excuse to get as far away from you as possible right now.
“You can go to lunch.”
“Are you sure? It’s only 11 and I still have to book the fli-”
“Yes. Bring me a sandwich from the deli I like. You can finish that later.”
You’re confused, he never sends you to lunch this early, especially not after business meetings. He’d usually have you type up a report or schedule the next meeting, sometimes he’d even assign you busy work like reorganizing the files or shredding letters. You don’t question it though, you knew better than that. Instead you send him a nod and head out to grab lunch.
As soon as you’re gone he’s relieved, he makes his way into the office, dumping the stack of papers on your desk before slumping down on his chair. He sighs, it’s a sigh of relief, but also of frustration. Everytime he closes his eyes his mind is overtaken with thoughts of you.
The thought of you sitting so close to him everyday, those lacy underwear mere inches from him. Your legs on full display for him, ready to be spread open at any moment. That tiny skirt riding up every time you took a singular step. Even your hands as they expertly typed away on your computer. The thought of you was driving him crazy, he doesn’t know how he survives entire workdays with you so close. If he could have it his way, you would’ve been bent over your desk the second you arrived late to work, for the simple fact that you arrived late. Then he would’ve eaten you out until you were begging him to stop as punishment for wearing a skirt so short. But he’s your boss and he needs to control himself and his thoughts.
His eyes are squeezed shut and his jaw clenched as he tried to think of anything other than you, but no matter how hard he tried his mind always came back to you. His dick twitches at the thought of you pressed up against the wall, your skirt halfway up your abdomen as he fucks into you relentlessly. He thinks about how he’d pick you up and guide you towards his chair where he’d let you do all the work, bouncing up and down on him for hours. Your hair would fall onto your face and he’d have to push it back, creating a make-shift ponytail to use as leverage to fuck into you harder.
His hand starts subconsciously wandering onto his hard, clothed dick at the thought. No one is here to watch him, the door is closed and you’re off on your lunch break, if he’s quick enough he can get in a quick, satisfying release. The idea floats around his head as he imagines you on your knees, face covered in his cum. Your lips would wrap perfectly around him, just like they wrapped around the straws he’s watched you drink from. Then he’d lay you on the desk on top of all the paperwork as he fucked you until the desk broke.
One time won’t hurt, right?
Briefly he looks around the room, making sure no one walks in as he begins unbuckling his pants. This is the first and only time he’s allowing himself to go this far at the thought of you. An adrenaline rush surges through him as he pulls his zipper down, becoming anxious to touch himself. His dick is twitching, precum leaking out as if it’s crying and begging to be set free.
As he’s about to let his throbbing penis free of its constraints, the door opens abruptly, causing him to look up in shock and immediately scoot himself closer into the desk. He tries his best to hide himself under the desk, using the ledge to serve as a shield.
You walk in with a big, kind smile, a bag of food in one hand and two drinks in the other. “Here’s your sandwich, Mr. Sturniolo,” you say, as you place the bag and one of the drinks onto his desk. “They didn’t have the soda you like so I brought this instead, I hope that’s okay. If not I brought another option,” you ramble on, plopping an alternate drink on the table.
His face is red hot and he won’t meet your gaze, “That’s fine, y/n. Thank you.”
“If you don’t like it I can get something else, I just didn’t know which one you’d like-”
“Y/n. You can go,” he interrupts you sternly, embarrassed that he was almost caught. You stand in silence, taking the hint that your boss wanted to be alone. You grab the paperwork from earlier and a pen before dismissing yourself quickly, deciding to work through the rest of your lunch break in the break room.
When you’re gone, Matt lets out another sigh of relief before looking down at his pants. They’re unbuckled, exposing the hem of his underwear. He quickly readjusts himself before looking at the bag of food.
He wasn’t even hungry anymore. All he could think about was you.
You’re currently preparing to board the plane for the long awaited company-wide business trip. The trip is to a resort where other major magazine companies will be hosting a week long conference. You and Matt are leaving two days early to ensure that everything is in order. This means that it’s your responsibility to make sure that all the company presentations, spreadsheets, paperwork, informational brochures, documents, and other records are in order. The thought of it stresses you out, you can’t even begin to imagine what Matt would do if even a single thing went wrong.
Even if you’d have some time to yourself in the resort, the thought of actually working made you dread the trip. But you put on your best performance as you walk behind Matt in the large airport in search of your boarding gate. Your suitcase is heavy, filled with all your personal necessities, some casual clothes, and a plethora of work clothes.
“Mr. Sturniolo? I think you might be heading the wrong way. I wanna say that the boarding gate is over here,” you speak shyly, afraid to overstep when speaking with your boss.
“Matt.” he replies, he hates that you call him ‘Mr. Sturniolo,’ it was a constant reminder that he was your superior, your boss. A reminder that you’d never be able to be his unless he fired you or risked a workplace scandal. “I’m sorry?” you ask, unsure of what he meant by that. You knew his name was Matthew, but you’d never called him anything but his last name.
“Please just call me Matt,” he reiterates. After years of working by your side, he’s determined to finally make an impression on you that doesn’t scream ‘I’m your boss!’ You hum in response, finally realizing that he wants you to refer to him by his first name. The thought of being on first name basis with your boss was a little weird, but it humanized him a bit and made him seem less intimidating.
“Okay. Well, Matt I think you’re heading towards the wrong gate.”
He looks around the airport, then down again at his ticket, realizing that he is in fact heading the wrong way. “You’d be right, Y/n,” he replies with a playful grin.
He’s dressed very casually, it’s an outfit that you’d be able to wear to a grocery store, but still lounge around your house in. The look contrasted his everyday attire drastically, he almost looked… normal? He didn’t look like a man who manages one of the largest magazine companies in the world, a man who drives a sports car, a man who has a secretary ready to do what he says when he says it. No, he looks like a man who walks his dog in the afternoon, a man who reads books before going to bed, a man who washes the dishes after every meal. He just looked normal and that made him easier to talk to.
The two of you begin walking to your designated gate, Matt trails behind you and takes in your attire too. You’re wearing a pair of leggings, a fitted top, sneakers, and a cropped sweater. You look great, but the change of style opens his imagination to the thought of you being fucked in a domestic setting. He could imagine you on the couch, by the sink, or even in the shower. He hated how easily his mind wandered into sexual territory, but he loved thinking about it.
You two board the plane quickly. You take the window seat, letting Matt situate himself in the aisle seat. The flight isn’t too long, but you’ve prepared yourself with some activities in case you become bored or restless.
Throughout the entire flight Matt is still thinking about you. All he can do is hope you don’t look down at his lap and see how excited he truly is. Fortunately for him, you’re deeply immersed in a game of sudoku. You’re biting the end of your pen in concentration, your eyes wandering across the page as you try and figure the puzzle out. He wishes you were biting across his skin, or that your lips were occupied with something else…
He takes a look at your lips, then at the page in front of you, “6 goes here.” His finger points to a specific square on the puzzle, breaking you from your concentration. You pause your chewing, processing the information Matt just said. You write in the 6, that singular move solving the entire puzzle for you as you quickly fill in the rest of the boxes.
A big smile is planted on your face, “wanna try?” You extend the book and pen out for him. He doesn’t have anything else to do, so he shrugs and takes the items from you, “sure.” In the process his hands graze against yours, goosebumps raising along his arms immediately. “Okay, well while you do that I’m gonna go to the restroom,” you comment, getting up from your seat so you can head to the back of the airplane.
You shuffle out of your seat, pressing your stomach to the seat in front of you as you try to wiggle out onto the aisle. Your butt briefly grazes Matt’s knee, your thigh touching his inner leg as you weave your way through his legs. “Sorry,” you whisper to him, finally making your way into the aisle. He wishes he could grab a hold of your hips, rip off your leggings, and pull you down onto his lap then and there. Even with all these people occupying the rest of the airplane, he’d fuck you so hard you’d forget how to walk.
His eyes do a once over on your whole body as you walk down the aisle, your tight leggings leaving little to the imagination. A small groan escapes his lips, if this is how he was feeling during the flight how was he going to survive the entire trip?
Matt shakes his head, beating himself up for being such a pervert. He stares down at the sudoku puzzle in front of him, suddenly forgetting all the rules.
The resort is huge, much bigger than the resort used for last year’s conference. Every year a different company hosts the conference, this year your company’s top rival was hosting. They were known to show off and pamper their guests, which would explain the grandious size of the resort.
You and Matt walk up to the front desk with your suitcases trailing behind you, ready to check in. The clerk at the front desk offers you both a warm smile as he asks for the name of the reservation.
“Matthew Sturniolo, we’re here for a weeklong event,” Matt replies, taking his ID out for further proof of identification. As you admire the luxurious look of the lobby the clerk looks for the reservation on the computer. When he finds it he immediately pulls out his rehearsed speech before handing Matt a singular key card, “Awesome! Looks like you two will be in a master suite on the top floor. Here’s the keycard, if you have any questions feel free to use your room phone to ring the front desk. We do offer room service which can also be accessed through the room phone. Enjoy your stay!”
Matt waits for another key card, because there should be two rooms, but the clerk becomes preoccupied with the computer once again. “I’m sorry. I reserved two rooms,” he says politely, trying not to lose his temper. If there was one thing he hated it was incompetent workers, and if this worker wasn’t so incompetent he would’ve known that Matt had two rooms. The clerk looks up from the computer briefly before checking again on the reservation status, “Right! Well it looks like the rooms you previously booked were given to two other guests. A lot of people will be visiting us for this conference so they had to move a couple of people around to make room for everyone. That’s why you’ll be sharing a room now.”
You watch as the situation unfolds, ready to step in if Matt became too abrasive. As a secretary, you were used to dealing with mistakes like this and have become an expert at deescalating situations, especially with Matt as your boss. He has a tendency to lose his temper or make snarky remarks and then leave you to deal with the aftermath.
Matt’s about to lose his temper and the clerk can tell so he quickly interjects again, “Don’t worry, sir. The room is very large and is equipped with a Queen sized bed. If you have any issues, we will work with you.”
Matt’s about to say something he shouldn’t, but is stopped by your gentle hand on his shoulder as you speak, “Thank you! We will call if there are any issues.” You grab the key card from the desk and pull Matt away and towards the elevator as you offer the clerk an apologetic smile.
He’s tense at your touch, because it elicits something feral in him, but also because he’s still on edge from the previous conversation. “I’m sure the room is big enough,” you comment once you two are inside the elevator. You can tell he’s bothered, his jaw is clenched and his fists are balled up so tight it causes his arms to flex. Even though he’s clearly angry, he looks extremely handsome right now. If he wasn’t your boss you’d even go as far as to say he looked hot.
“Doesn’t matter. I reserved two rooms, we should’ve gotten two rooms.”
“Yeah, but we’ll make it work,” you say with a smile, trying to remain positive.
“That’s not the point,” he grumbles. The elevator dings with each floor, and each ding reminds him that he’s closer to having to share a room with you for an entire week. If he wasn’t able to contain himself at the office, or even on the airplane, how was he ever meant to survive an entire week with you?
The elevator dings one last time as you reach the top floor, the doors opening slowly to reveal a long hallway. You exit the elevator, Matt following suit behind you as you read the keycard. The keycard reads room #505, it’s all the way at the end of the hall, perfectly secluded in a corner.
This only sends Matt’s imagination more wild, he didn’t know how he was going to keep his hands off of you for an entire week.
After getting settled, Matt informs you that there’s a brief introductory meeting that you need to attend. He tells you to dress up professionally because a lot of important people were going to be there and to be prepared to take notes. You know this is a business trip, but a part of you was hoping to relax the first night. With Matt as your boss, you should’ve known better.
The living situation wasn’t that bad, the room was very large, complete with a queen size bed, two closets, and a restroom that had a his and hers sink. Before doing anything else you two got situated, Matt insisted on sleeping on the floor, but after further deliberation you insisted he join you in the bed. You were adults after all, it didn’t have to be weird. He protested at first, but the thought of sleeping in the same bed as you was exciting.
After that, you decided to take a shower. You needed to wash off the jet lag from the flight. While you were in the shower Matt’s brain was going wild with thoughts of you. The water slowly running down your body, being able to see your silhouette through the foggy glass, pressing you up against the glass as he fucked you from behind. He was itching to get up from the bed, barge into the restroom and finally make you his. But he had to remind himself that this was a purely professional trip, that you were only in the same room due to circumstance.
You’re currently lining your lips, adding all the finishing touches to your makeup. You decided on a black dress, it was simple and classy, but still fun. Your hair was perfectly styled to show off a silver necklace and matching earrings, they were actually a gift from Matt. He gave them to you one Christmas, mumbling something about how they were from the company, but in reality he chose them himself specifically for you.
Matt’s been dressed for a while now, waiting for you to get out of the restroom so he can make any last adjustments to his outfit. You’re taking forever though and he still needs to put on is his tie, so he decides to walk into the restroom and use the mirror adjacent to yours.
As soon as he walks into the restroom his eyes are all over you, admiring everything about your face, body, and outfit. He notices you’re wearing the jewelry he gifted you and he makes a mental note to gift you another set.
“You look nice,” he comments nonchalantly, his fingers working expertly to tie his tie around his neck. You smile at him through the mirror, popping on a thick layer of lipgloss before returning the sentiment, “you clean up nice yourself.” Matt sends you a smile of his own, flattening the tie against his button up shirt. His outfit matched yours, it was all black from head to toe. It was a nice coincidence that made you two look almost like a couple.
You reach out your hands to fix his collar, it was popping out slightly. “Lemme fix this,” you whisper, your fingertips grazed against his neck. His breath hitches in his throat as he tried not to look down, he had the perfect view of your chest from where he was standing. He’s in the perfect position to pick you up and fuck you on the bathroom counter. If he wanted to he could smudge your lipstick, and fuck you so hard you cry, ruining your makeup.
“Thanks,” he whispers back, placing his hands on your hips to move you away from the mirror. His touch sends a shiver down your spine, he’s never touched you like that before. Matt tries to focus his attention on his reflection, ignoring his once again growing erection.
You look him up and down, noticing the tent in his pants for the first time. He looks so sexy right now that you want to get on your knees and worship him, servicing his cock until it has nothing left to offer. Then you’d let him pleasure you as you sit on the countertop, his head between your thighs.
You shock yourself with your dirty thoughts, turning abruptly towards the mirror as you try ignoring the sexual tension.
The meeting was more of a cocktail party, it was the perfect setting to get to know everyone before the real work started. Most of the people here were men in power, followed around by their assistants, secretaries, and interns. There wasn’t much for you to do but follow Matt around as he introduced you to a few of his colleagues. You remembered most of them from previous business trips, but still did your rounds around the event.
After getting comfortable and introducing you to everyone, the drinks started. You dismissed yourself and wandered off to find a drink for yourself. Matt wasn’t a big drinker, especially not at events like this, but he let himself fall victim to peer pressure. He found himself drinking scotch, whiskey, and vodka with a group of extremely powerful and wealthy men. They were hooting and hollering, engaging in conversation about all the females in their field that they’d fucked. Matt didn’t have any stories to share on the subject, so after a while he bid the men goodbye to look for you.
He was kind of drunk at this point, stumbling slightly as he searched for you. You were at the bar drinking a martini while talking to a man. He, much like you, was an assistant to a very powerful man. The conversation between you two was casual and innocent, but as Matt watched he couldn’t help but feel jealous.
“Does your boss drag you along to boring events like this too?” the man asked, taking a sip of his own drink. You weren’t drunk, but you were getting there. You take a sip of your drink and look around the room, catching a glimpse of Matt in a far corner. He looked upset and drunk. “Mmm yeah, but the job is easy so I don’t complain,” you reply, your eyes trained on Matt’s approaching figure. His nostrils were flared, jaw clenched, and the fabric of his shirt strained against his flexed arms.
“Umm that’s actually my boss there. I better go,” you say, hopping off the barstool. Your dress rides up slightly, exposing more of your thigh than necessary. The man watches as you walk towards Matt without a word, before turning to the bartender and asking for another drink.
“Are you drunk?” You immediately ask Matt once you meet. He doesn’t say anything, instead grabbing your arm and looping it around his. This is his attempt at leaving the event while looking put together and professional. He dismisses himself from the few colleagues you run into on the way out as he leads you towards the elevator. You play along, but once the elevator doors close you pull your arm away.
“What was that about?”
“Didn’t like the way that guy was looking at you,” Matt replies in a gruff tone. He presses the button to your floor aggressively. “Okay, but why did we have to leave?” you’re feeling feisty, the martinis giving you the daring push you needed to express yourself.
“I wasn’t planning on leaving, I was just looking for you. But when I saw how that guy was looking at you, I decided it’d be better for us to go back to our room.”
You roll your eyes and scoff, crossing your arms, causing your boobs to pop out slightly from your dress. You didn’t need a protector, especially not when the man you were talking to was just being nice. Matt looks at you when you scoff, groaning at the sight of your boobs spilling out of your dress. “Don’t do that,” he instructs drunkenly, pointing towards your arms. You look down at your chest, noticing how exposed you are, but you’re too drunk to care.
“Don’t do this?” you tease, pushing your chest out further. Matt inches closer to you, his face dangerously close to yours. “Stop” he whispers sternly, allowing his arms to rest on your hips as his nose grazes yours. “Or what?” you’re taunting him at this point, trying to see how far he’d go with you. But you’re drunk and so is he, if you two were sober you’d never be this bold.
The elevator rings, signaling that you’ve reached your floor. The sudden sound is sobering, it pulls you both from your trance, causing you to pull away immediately.
The walk to your room is awkward, the sexual tension lingering as you adjust your dress. Were you really about to kiss your boss? You try convincing yourself that that only happened because of the alcohol, you’re too inebriated to act against your natural, feral instincts. You fumble for the keycard in your purse, opening the door nervously before walking in. How were you supposed to sleep next to Matt after that?
“I’ll sleep on the floor, Mr. Sturniolo,” you comment quickly as you sit on the edge of the bed, unstrapping your heels. The use of his last name catches his off guard, “I thought I told you to call me Matt.” You didn’t even realize you reverted back to using his last name, but there must be something telling you to remain professional. For the sake of this trip and for your job.
He’s standing over you, looking down at you with an intimidating look. You look up at him, leaning back into the bed slightly to get a better look at him, “Right. Sorry, Matt.” Whatever awkwardness you felt was quickly dissipating as the wetness between your legs grew. He used his knee to separate your legs, standing in between them as he took ahold of your face.
Matt leans down closer to you, his lips inches from yours as he says, “Make it up to me.” Without another word, he takes your lips in his. It’s a slow and sensual kiss, and your arms fold so that you’re now resting on your elbows. Matt’s now on top of you, his body fitting against yourself perfectly.
“You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this,” he whispers against your lips, holding himself up with one hand as he allows the other to trace from your face to your chest. He’s admiring everything about you, his fingers toying with the silver necklace around your neck. You’re watching him in awe, you’ve never known a man as sexy as him.
“Matt-“
“Shhh, pretty girl. You can moan my name all night long, but first I need you to do me a favor,” he says, pushing himself off the bed, you prop yourself up eagerly in the process. You watch as he unbuckles his belt and undoes his pants swiftly, pulling them down to reveal his underwear. Your mouth waters at the sight, his dick struggling against the cloth. You know exactly what he wants and you’re ready to comply.
“Open up, pretty girl,” he instructs, whipping his cock out and pumping himself briefly. You do as you’re told, kneeling between him and the bed as you open your mouth for him. His dick is big, but you’re so hungry for him that you don’t question how it’ll all fit.
Matt lets you take control from here, moving his hands to the sides of your face to caress a few strands of hair out of your face. He watches as you take his cock into your hand, pumping it slowly as you kiss from the base all the way to the tip. A groan escapes his lips when you finally wrap your lips around the tip, swirling your tongue around the slit in the process.
He moves his hand to the back of your head, moving his hips closer to you as he pushes himself into your mouth fully. Matt thrusts into your face slowly, using his hand to keep your head in place. Your eyes begin to water, small gag noises following each time he hits the back of your throat. “So good,” he moans, throwing his head back in pleasure as you hollow your cheeks around his cock.
He fucks your face faster, causing tears to brim at your waterline. You look so beautiful under him, taking him without a complaint. This is better than everything he’s imagined, you look so innocent under him with tour hands on your knees, pushing your boobs out for him. The sight alone is enough to make him cum, he pulls out of your mouth completely letting you catch your breath as he feverishly strokes himself.
You don’t miss a beat, moving your face closer to him so you can kiss the base of his cock and suck his balls as he continues stroking himself. He groans at your eagerness to please, pushing your face back and instructing you to open your mouth again. You do as your told, Matt laying his heavy dick in your mouth as his cum decorates your tongue. His moans fill the room as he praises you for taking him so well.
You take him in your mouth again, swallowing the cum in the process, bobbing your head up and down his cock a few times. You kiss his tip, a small whimper coming from Matt. You’re drenched at this point, the only thing you can think about is his dick inside you, your spongy walls clenching around him.
He watches attentively as you stand up seductively from your spot on the floor, your knees are red and your makeup is ruined. You look so sexy, he’s ready to go again. You kiss him, moaning into his mouth as one of his arms wraps around your waist and the other massages the skin right under the hem of your dress.
“Fuck me, please,” you whisper into the kiss. You asked so nicely that it makes his dick twitch.
He doesn’t have to be told twice, instead he guides your make-out session to the restroom where he turns you around so your ass is flush against him. You moan as he pulls your dress down, accidentally tearing the straps in the process to free your boobs. He’s watching you from the mirror, taking in how your boobs bounce with every movement.
Matt’s fingers trace along your chest, slowly reaching your nipples. He pinches your nipples between his cold fingers, eliciting another moan from you. “So beautiful,” he mumbles, trailing kisses from your neck to your shoulder. Your hands hold you up against the counter and your head is thrown back in pleasure, resting against his shoulder as you await his neck move.
One of his hands cups your breast as the other works towards moving your lace underwear to the side. He groans at the feeling of your wet folds against his fingers, you were all worked up and it was just for him. “So wet. Is this all for me?” he asks, locking eyes with you in the mirror. You bite your lip, nodding your head feverishly. All you want is for him to fuck you already.
“Use your words, baby.”
“It’s all for you Matt.”
He seems satisfied with your response because he finally lines himself up with your entrance, letting his tip sit there for a while before fully pushing himself in. You are immediately sent to a state of euphoria at the feeling of him inside of you, breathless pants and moans escaping your lips. Matt moans out your name as every fantasy he’s had about you flashes through his mind, none of them comparing to the sight in front of him right now.
One of his arms is wrapped around your waist while the other snakes around your chest so he can hold one of your boobs. Your head is thrown onto his shoulder as you try to anchor yourself to the counter with your hands. His hips snap back and forth as he pumps in and out of you, causing your body to rock against the counter top.
“You feel so good,” he moans, holding you tighter against him. You’re clenching around him, one of your hands reaching behind you to grab his neck. You turn your face towards him and capture his lips in a heated kiss as he continues fucking into you, his fingers pinching your nipples and massages your breast. You’re moaning his name into his mouth, a string of curse words following as you feel your climax approaching.
He picks up on your queues and doesn’t slow down, kissing you harder as he pushes you past your breaking point. Matt feels you clench around him one last time, a loud, high pitched moan following as you come undone on his cock. He pulls away from the kiss so he can see your fucked out expression through the mirror. You look so sexy, taking him entirely like a good, obedient girl.
He grins at the sight in front of him, pecking your shoulder before grabbing a fistful of your hair and fucking you harder than before. His orgasm is close, and he’s chasing it faster and faster with each thrust. One hand is gripping your hair as the other rests on the small of your back, he watches as your ass jiggles against him with each thrust. You’re whimpering at this point, still very sensitive from your previous orgasm.
“So perfect,” he mumbles. The room is filled with the sound of your whimpers, Matt’s groans, and your skin slapping against each other as he drops his warm, sticky load inside of you. This time it’s your turn to watch him from the mirror, his eyebrows are furrowed and his jaw is slack as his hips stutter inside of you, breathy moans tickling your back.
“Fuck,” he groans, snapping his hips into you one last time before pulling out of you completely.
Matt’s grip around you is still firm, holding you up so you can balance yourself properly. The two of you catch your breath before you turn to face him, a fucked out look on your face as you smile at him. He smiles too, snaking his arms around your waist and pulling you in for a genuine kiss. Not a ‘let’s fuck again kiss,’ but a genuine kiss.
“How am I supposed to work with you after that?” you joke, placing your arms on his chest.
“You’ll manage,” he says with a smirk, pecking your lips again.
MASTERLIST
A/n:
Happy Valentine’s Day enjoy this boss Matt story😋Kk byeeeeee
- L.A.M.B👼🏻💗
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Velma
eddie munson x fem!reader
You attend a Halloween party with Eddie, things don't go quite as planned when Jason Carver acts like a jerk.
cw: allusions to curvy reader, drinking, drugs, blood, violence, eddie fights off screen, body insecurities, kissing, not proofread, working on writing fluff
Word Count: 5.5k
masterlist
“Are you gonna go to Chelsea Hanover’s Halloween party?” Eddie asked, long legs hanging out the back of his van. His stained Reeboks were planted firmly on the concrete, knees pushing out of the rips in his black jeans. You sat in the parking lot of the movie theater, eating the remainder of the snacks you hadn’t finished earlier. The night was quiet, most Hawkins residents already tucked safely into their beds.
You paused midway through trying to shove a handful of popcorn into your mouth, is Eddie going insane? “Are you going to Chelsea Hanover’s Halloween party?” You were practically gawking as you swung your sock-covered feet in the crisp night air. The sneakers you wore had been abandoned in a pile on the shag carpet. 
You thought Eddie was over all the stupid high school activities at this point, with it being his third go at senior-year and all. He’d never talked about going to a party in the past six months of your budding friendship, and, in Hawkins, there were plenty of parties to attend. 
He was quiet as he took another drink from his slushie, red-stained lips turning up into a smirk. “I was thinking about going to sell. Make some money off the rich kids.” 
“What, do you want me to come entertain you?” There was an edge to your voice that you didn’t expect. Your chest felt tight as soon as he brought up the party, anxiety knitting your lungs together. You traced the cracks in the asphalt with your eyes. 
Your frustration wasn’t meant for Eddie, it rarely ever was.
You had to stop pretending that all your so-called friends from your junior year of high school weren’t because of Billy. None of them had even bothered to speak to you since he dumped you like trash last summer. And especially not since the day of his funeral. They were fake and plastic people.
Eddie chuckled, fishing his carton of cigarettes out of his jacket pocket. He didn’t seem to notice how stiff you’d become, your legs rigid in the night air. “Well, yeah. If you want. It could be a night of making fun of Hawkins’ finest.” 
You smiled weakly, trying to hide the sour mood that had come over you. Eddie just wanted a friend to be there–you knew Gareth and Jeff would say no immediately. You didn’t want to throw him to the wolves alone. Chelsea Hanover’s parties were awful if you didn’t know anyone or didn’t want to dance. Eddie didn’t seem like much of a dancer to you. “You know what, sure. Count me in, Munson.”
His pearly white teeth lit up in the glow of his lighter as he brought the cigarette to his lips, a smile radiating across his masculine features. A tendril of anxiety wrapped around your throat as you filed through worst-case-scenarios, each growing more and more catastrophic. 
Your stomach did a flip as you pushed the bucket of popcorn aside, trying to be subtle as your thoughts raced. You suddenly obsessed about how your thighs pressed together and your bra cut into the layer of excess fat in your back, all new discoveries in the past couple of months. Your mother had reminded you that being thin at eighteen would be harder than being thin at seventeen—you’d locked yourself in your bathroom to cry for the better part of your birthday after stepping on the scale.
Eddie didn’t seem to notice your turmoil, methodically chewing as though everything was fine. Of course he wouldn’t notice, he didn’t understand the intricacies of girlhood that made your skin feel too tight. You fluffed your sweater out, suddenly self-conscious about what areas of your body it was snug against. 
Robin would help you find a costume. 
The high socks squeezed just above your knees as you made your way up to the front door, red skirt swishing around the middles of your plush thighs with each step. You took a deep breath, a wave of heat and sound rolling over you as you opened the door. There were people in a variety of costumes everywhere inside. A few classmates nodded at you in acknowledgment as you shut the door and stepped into the humid living room, quickly turning their attention back to their friends. 
Where was Eddie? You did a once over of the room, scanning the edges of the dance floor for the shaggy-haired boy. The couches had all been pushed out of the way to make space for a makeshift dance floor, the stereo in the corner booming Cyndi Lauper. It was a miracle that it couldn’t be heard outside. 
The clusters of people spilled into the kitchen. There was limited space to weave through the crowd, you kept whispering apologies as you made your way to the other room. Upon entering, you were handed a cup of red punch from a boy you vaguely knew from English. You offered him a smile, a nod in his direction as you raised the cup to your lips.
You wrinkled your nose as you took a sip, it was strong. 
There were no traces of Eddie anywhere. The room was filled with Indiana Joneses and Maddonas and Ghostbusters and Flashdance characters. No curly-headed metalheads in sight, though. Eddie didn’t seem like someone who would wear a Halloween costume, not for a party he was planning on dealing at. 
You leaned against the breakfast counter lazily, watching the people on the dance floor bump into one another. The plastic cup stuck to your fingers as you gulped down the rest of the drink, grimacing at the after taste of vodka. You traced the edges of the porcelain tiles as you took up your place as a designated wallflower. 
You downed four more cups of the punch before you got restless, deciding to investigate the rest of the party before accepting defeat. Your feet shuffled in slow motion as you approached the sliding glass door on the other end of the room. It was open, allowing teens to trickle outside and spread across the dark backyard. 
The smell of cigarettes and weed wafted through the door as the autumn breeze picked it up, sparking a small flame of hope that your best friend was outside.
You tripped on the door track as you stepped into the much cooler night, steadying yourself and your sloshing drink against the doorframe before looking up. There were a few groups outside, most nursing drinks or joints or cigarettes and murmuring to one another. The music coming from the living room was so faint that you could barely make out the lyrics.
“Hey, Velma!” Your head slowly turned towards the voice, your lips buzzing as the alcohol settled in. Eddie was illuminated by the soft light diffused by the curtains in the kitchen window. He sat at a metal table with his trusty lunch box, head cocked slightly to the side as he absorbed your costume. You realized he was wearing a dark green “Corroded Coffin” t-shirt under his leather jacket and dark jeans, meaning you vaguely matched. 
If you squinted, or drank too much.
You fell into the chair next to him with an oof!, crossing your legs at the ankles as you leaned back. Your head lolled back to rest on the weathered cushion as a breathy laugh escaped your throat. “We match,” you said, looking at how the stars were swirling in the sky. Your breaths were heavy as you waited for the world to still, a smile stretching its way across your face regardless. 
“I didn’t know you were gonna come in costume, princess,” Eddie laughed, busily rolling joints to keep his hands occupied. You placed the sticky plastic cup on the table before stretching your arms out in front of you. Your gaze traced the wide cable-knit of the orange sweater, wiggling your fingers as you contemplated.
Self-consciousness reared its ugly head, making you sit up and lean closer to the brunette. “Do I look bad?” you whispered, fingertips finding the edge of your skirt. Your eyes were wide as he paused to study you, a soft grin breaking out on his face. You waited for his judgment, fiddling with anything in your reach before landing on braiding a thin strip of your hair.
“You look great,” he assured. There was a beat of silence, your heads still bent together conspiratorially. Eddie looked like he was thinking, his tongue licked his bottom lip. “You should’ve told me you were gonna dress up, I would’ve done it with you.” 
“You already look like you did, Shaggy,” you murmured with a sly half smile, taking another drink as you settled back into the metal chair. Eddie grinned, glancing down at his own outfit. 
Everything got all fuzzy on the edges as you finished the red liquid in your cup, joking with Eddie between drug deals. The basketball players who came by barely looked at you, only sparing glances as Eddie overcharged them for weed. 
He didn’t notice the cold shoulders, or he at least pretended not to, making fun of their costume choices as soon as they walked away. You pretended like they didn’t bother you. It felt strange to be at one of these parties after everything that happened with Billy, you’d never felt more invisible. 
But Eddie saw you, his brown eyes drifting to you more often than usual. You couldn’t tell if it was just because he was worried about how much you were drinking. You found yourself liking the way he talked, hands waving wildly as his voice slid into different impersonations of the people around you. He was always so genuinely Eddie, you wondered what it would feel like to be like that.
“I’m gonna grab another drink,” you said as Eddie’s attention was pulled away by a group of juniors with wide eyes and crumpled dollar bills. He gave you a thumbs up as he rifled through the contents of his stash. 
You swayed a bit as you stood, your grip on the plastic cup crumpling it slightly. The juniors eyed you as you walked around the edge of their little group, Eddie’s voice spitting out prices calling their attention back to him.  
Armed with a deep breath to ground yourself, you shouldered your way back into the house. There were even more people than before. With no room to move properly, you jammed yourself into the throng of people that were making their way to the kitchen. Despite how many people were here there was surprisingly still plenty to drink. 
You had never known Chelsea to be so generous, at least not during your short-lived friendship.
You stopped in front of the punch bowl, staring at your wobbling reflection in the liquid as you filled your cup with the ladle. Maybe it was the alcohol, but you hardly recognized yourself. The proportions of your face were so different than when you primped and prepped in the mirror, your gaze felt less harsh as you stared at the girl in the punch bowl. You could feel the heat radiating off your cheeks as you glared at the rose-colored image of yourself, wondering what you actually looked like. 
A hand clasped your shoulder, an anchor back to reality. You pivoted on your heel, thinking that Eddie had come to talk to you about something, maybe ready to leave and go find somewhere to park and talk and listen to music. 
Your face fell when you recognized Jason Carver’s blue eyes.
It had been ages since Jason had so much as talked to you. He used to follow Billy around like a puppy, hoping that it would make him the captain of the basketball team after graduation. Of course, Billy had treated Jason like the rest of you, rewarding his neediness with a cold shoulder.  
“You know, Billy would be so disappointed if he was still here.” Jason may as well have spit on you. You stepped back, your spine pressing into the chilly counter as you tried to put some space between you. His eyes had a hard time settling, staring you up and down as you tried to remain still under his gaze. “He probably wouldn’t even recognize you, especially now that you’re hanging out with the losers.”
You scowled, rage making your throat tighten. “He didn’t even like you, Jason.” Blonde eyebrows rose in surprise. “I’m sure he’s rolling in his grave knowing that the pathetic Jesus kid who would’ve blown him if he asked is in charge of the basketball team.” 
You were getting a little too loud, the people standing nearest to you were turning their heads to see what the commotion was about. Jason evaluated the crowd before grabbing your wrist, a sick smile spreading across his face. “I think you’ve had enough.” There was a threatening edge to his voice as he leaned to whisper in your ear. 
You strained against him, the punch sloshing over the edges of the cup and down your fingers. Droplets flecked onto his yellow Teen Wolf costume like blood. Panic started to creep up your throat, the reminder that none of the other people at the party were going to help you made your blood run cold.
“Jason, stop,” you muttered, your voice thick. More punch slid down your hand as you tried to tug yourself from his grip. Your heart fluttered in your chest as you attempted to find a way out. “Let me go.”
He squeezed your wrist even tighter as hot tears pricked at the corners of your eyes and rolled down your cheeks. You were sure long lines of mascara were left behind, you couldn’t even move your free hand to wipe them away. Fear paralyzed you as the pounding of the music filled every space in your mind. Your mind whirred uselessly, so caught off guard by the aggression that you hardly knew how to respond. 
A ringed hand wrapped around Jason’s forearm; you flinched at the sudden intrusion. Eddie was bristling next to you, squeezing the jock’s arm until he let you go. You pulled your wrist back to your chest, your brows knitting together as your lips fell into a pout.
The metalhead pushed his lunchbox into your stomach, his eyes dark as they scoured your face. “How about you go wait in the van, princess? The keys are inside the box,” he murmured, his expression leaving no room for protest. You hesitated a moment, causing him to jerk his chin smoothly toward the front door. His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as he swallowed, his jaw set.
Suddenly shy, you dropped your gaze to the floor. Everything was swimming around you, the party too loud and the room too hot and your hands were so sticky with punch. You’d never felt more overwhelmed. 
Nodding once, you gripped the handle of the lunchbox for dear life as you scurried out of the house. By the time the night air hit you, you realized you were still holding the cup, most of it empty as it coated your hand and stained the skin. You choked back the rest of its contents, crumpling it in your hand and tossing it into the grass. Eddie’s van was parked across the street, looking out of place amongst the other cars.
You were almost asleep in the passenger seat by the time Eddie threw the door open, scaring you into waking up. He was obscured by the lights of the house behind him as he climbed inside. “Eddie, what happened?” you croaked as he tried to jam the keys into the ignition, his hands practically vibrating. 
You gasped as he turned to look in the center console. His right eyebrow was caked entirely with blood, a gash splitting it nearly in two. Blood was smeared in a trail down his face, following the curve of his nostril and making its way over his pale throat and to his shirt collar. He plucked a cigarette carton out of the glove box, the streetlamp illuminating the smears of blood across his pale fingers. His knuckles were blown apart. 
“Eddie,” you murmured, reaching across the center console hesitantly. He still didn’t look at you, rummaging around for his zippo. The house beyond was relatively quiet, no signs of a party other than all the cars parked along the sidewalk. Jason walked into view of the upstairs bathroom window, glaring at the van before pulling down the shade. His face was smeared with blood, his costume ruffled.
The chains on Eddie’s jacket sleeve jingled as he lit the cigarette, taking a drag with a sigh. “Eddie.” You hesitated for a moment before you pressed your palm into the worn leather. You could feel the muscles in his shoulder jump under your fingertips–you rarely ever touched him. It just felt like a boundary the two of you never crossed. “Y-you didn’t have to do that,” you said. 
The heater and the radio jumped to life, Dio blasting in the small space. Eddie’s brows furrowed as he turned to study your face. “Of course I had to,” his voice was surprisingly soft. His hand came out of nowhere, a warm thumb wiping your cheek. Your nerves must have been fried, because you leaned into his touch without thinking about it. “That idiot made you cry, couldn’t just let him get away with it.”
You pulled in a ragged breath, a bit surprised by the amount of tenderness in his voice. His hand was so warm, his fingers wiping away the lines of makeup that ran down your cheeks when you cried. Shaking fingers brought the cigarette back to his pink lips, you watched him take a drag and blow the smoke out of the corner of his mouth. 
“Can we go?” you whispered, your voice hoarse as your throat tightened. It was all you could do to keep from crying, you didn’t even know why you wanted to cry this time.
He smiled, nodding as he pulled away from the curb like a maniac. His hand dropped from your face, turning the radio up until the heavy sound of a guitar riff was blasting through the speakers.
Apparently it was Wayne’s night off, so the trailer was off-limits for a late night sanctuary. That was how you ended up at the quarry, the side door pulled open as you and Eddie sprawled out in the back of the van. You’d guzzled a bottle of water as soon as you parked, already starting to feel like a bit of a human being again.
Eddie had cleaned up his face with the bandana he kept in his back pocket. The gash in his eyebrow looked painful, but he kept assuring you it was fine. He sat against the wall of the van as he wiped his knuckles, the largest one on his right hand slightly torn.
It was like once you all had crossed the barrier of touch, Eddie didn’t want to stop. He just kept touching you, be it a hand brushing against your arm or his leg jostling yours. It felt shockingly comfortable, making you wonder why you had been so resistant to touching him before. 
“Those rings must not have felt nice,” you commented absentmindedly, laying on your stomach on the carpet as you watched him. Moonlight flooded in the van through the open door, glinting off the silver that adorned his fingers.
He smiled, flexing his hands as he looked down at them. “Carver didn’t seem too excited about them,” he murmured, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. 
You’d cleaned most of the makeup off your face on the drive to the quarry using a baby wipe you kept in your purse. He hardly ever saw you with a clean face, the moonlight revealing a few blemishes on your skin. The urge to cover your cheeks still lingered, but it felt nice to have it off.
“Thanks for like, defending my honor and stuff,” you murmured, looking down at your chipped nail polish. “You really didn’t have to do that, Eddie.”
The idea that he would go out of his way to fight Jason Carver on your behalf was still hard for you to wrap your head around. Eddie loved to talk and bitch and complain about the basketball team and larger society regularly, but he wasn’t violent. 
“I did.” His eyes searched yours, wide and honest as always. A joint found its way between his long fingers, he took a deep drag. You watched him through heavy eyelids as he exhaled a thick cloud of smoke, he continued until he’d finished nearly half the joint. “I couldn’t just let him mess with you like that, not my girl.” 
My girl. My girl. My girl. The phrase went off in your head like a bell. You didn’t know if he’d said it just because he was high or if he actually meant it like that. You wet your lips with your tongue, glancing at him for a moment.
“Well, thanks,” you breathed, twirling your fingers in a loose thread on one of the weaved blankets he kept in the back of the van. You had wrapped yourself in it on multiple occasions, mostly on cold nights when you were ungodly high. But tonight, alcohol thrummed through you like liquid fire.
Eddie finished the remainder of the joint on his own, his warm brown eyes tinged with pink as his smile stretched easier. There was a fluidity to him when he was stoned, his normally theatrical mannerisms mellowing out to something that seemed less like a performance and more genuine. His movements became more languid, his lanky form sprawling out on a half-deflated bean bag. His calf rested on top of your leg.
The cassette that was playing ended, the power chords fading into silence as you heard the player whir to a stop. The water lapping at the cliff face below and the breeze rustling the foliage outside the van seemed louder, indicative of the transition from fall to winter that was soon to come.
“You want to pick the next one?” Eddie asked, his voice soft and breathy like it always got when he was stoned. It was sweet of him to ask, considering you knew that he already had a playlist of what he wanted to put on next written out in his head. He was particular about music, always wanting to be in-control of what was playing no matter where you were. 
You knew he meant for you to pick from his cassette collection.
“Yeah,” you answered, a smirk starting to spread on your face. You stood up, your feet digging into the shag carpet as you crouched to avoid hitting your head. “I’ve got a Madonna tape in my purse that I’ve been wanting to listen to.” 
“Madonna?” You could hear the anguish in his voice as you stepped over his long legs to reach the front. There was an air of disbelief at your choice, Eddie couldn’t stand Madonna.
You laughed, nodding as you pulled the aforementioned tape from your bag and flashing it to Eddie. “You said I could pick,” you teased, hunkering down in front of the radio to exchange the cassettes. Stunned silence filled the space behind you as you waited for the Dio tape to be spit out, you tapped the Madonna cassette against your kneecap.
What at first was silence burst into a flurry of motion behind you.
Before you could react, Eddie’s hands locked around your waist from behind and elicited a squeal from your throat as he yanked you back. “I’m not listening to Madonna,” he said, twisting his body around yours to try to snatch the tape from your hand. 
You scrambled, holding the cassette out of his reach and angling your shoulders to keep him away. “Eddie! You said I could pick!” you exclaimed with a peal of laughter, feeling the length of his body pressed against the back of yours. He pulled you close with a forearm curled around your waist, reaching over your shoulder. 
“Yeah, you can pick from good music!” His chin bumped the top of your head as you both fell forward from losing your balance. The floor absorbed most of the impact, Eddie’s shoulder banging into the floorboards next to you. You let out a soft grunt as Eddie landed partially on top of you, pressing you into the carpet. 
“This is good music,” you insisted, digging your elbow and knees into the thick carpet so you could shimmy forward. Eddie slammed an elbow in front of your shoulder, stopping any forward movement. There was no time to redirect as he melded you into his shadows, lanky limbs moving over where you were prone. His other hand curled around your wrist, so close to taking the tape. “You’re just judgmental!”
In a last ditch effort you twisted your arm from his grip, pulling your hand under your body and pressing the tape between your stomach and the rustled blanket. “You’re not being fair!” You were still giggling, Eddie stuffed his fingers between your forearm and your stomach in an attempt to follow the path of your arm. 
“It’s my van, princess,” Eddie said with a breathy laugh of his own. He lifted himself off you, letting you breathe for a moment before his hands scooped beneath your shoulders and flipped you onto your back. “I can judge however I want to.” 
You tried to push him away with your feet, matching smiles on your faces as he reached for you around the assault. With a shove your legs were out of the way, his torso settling between them with your knees on either side of his ribs. He leaned over you, managing to pry the tape from your hands and slide it into the pocket of his leather jacket. 
You still had some fight in you, reaching for Eddie’s pocket before he grabbed your wrists and pressed them to the floor. “Eddie!” you whined, squirming in an attempt to throw him off. 
He was smiling above you with all his teeth, the two of you panting as you stared at one another. The distance between you decreased, long fingers threading through yours as his head dipped lower. You were so close that you could practically count his eyelashes. Eddie scraped his teeth over  his lower lip, a clear sign that he was about to ask you something. You nodded before he could, your heart pounding in your chest as you prayed that you weren’t reading into things.
When he pressed his lips against yours you knew you guessed right.
You sighed into it, your eyes fluttering closed as your mouth moulded to his. Butterflies had made a home in your stomach, part of you wondering when you started having feelings for Eddie. Why did it take you so long to do something about them?
His mouth was so soft, slotting against yours in clumsy open-mouthed kisses. You both were smiling, giggling nervously when your teeth clashed or noses bumped. It was as though you both were clumsy and new to this, the anxiety of wanting to impress making you forget how to relax for a moment. His hair tickled your cheeks and neck, curling wildly in every direction. You desperately wanted to thread your fingers into it, your hands flexing against his.
A strong gust of wind blew dried leaves into the open door of the van, the chill cutting through your clothes making the two of you pull away from one another with laughs. Eddie tugged the door closed in a quick motion, leaning back on a bean bag and patting the side of his thigh in a motion to come over there. 
The moonlight was diffused through the windows on the sliding side doors, illuminating Eddie in a beautiful silver as you practically crawled on your hands and knees to him. You were a bit off-balance, partially falling against his chest. He chuckled, curling an arm around your back and pulling you closer with a wide hand pressed against the curve of your spine.
“Been waiting to kiss you like this for months,” Eddie murmured, his calloused fingers tracing along your cheek. You leaned into his touch, your hands resting on the soft Corroded Coffin shirt he wore. 
“Yeah?” you asked, your eyes wide as you looked at him. Part of you didn’t want to believe him, you’d thought his taste in women leaned on either far-end of the Morticia Addams to Chrissy Cunningham spectrum. Maybe you were wrong, or at least you prayed that you were. When considering the Eddie Spectrum of eligible women, you were situated somewhere near the middle.
He nodded, stamping a quick kiss to your lips. “Of course, princess,” he said, his other hand coming to rest on the curve of your thigh. Goosebumps pricked along your skin, his fingertips tracing up and down the bare section of your leg between the skirt and high socks. “And you make a very cute, Velma.”
You rolled your eyes at the compliment, shrugging it off. “You don’t mean that,” you whispered, eyes cast down at the blood soaked into the collar of his shirt. Shyness consumed you, it had been a while since a guy had flirted with you like this.
Well, Eddie’s fingers drawing figure-eights on the outside of your thigh felt like a little more than flirting.
One of his eyebrows lifted, disappearing beneath his bangs as he looked at you. “I do mean it.” Before you could argue with him, he pulled you into another kiss. 
It was enough to take your mind off of it, your head tilting up toward his as you twisted your body closer to him. Your hips turned, the handcuffs serving as his belt buckle digging into you through the thick fabric of your skirt. Thick thighs split apart over his knee, your spine curving on instinct. 
Normally, you wouldn’t have considered the back of Eddie’s van to be romantic, but now there was nowhere else you would rather be. 
Unable to think of much else, the kisses became messier. The sloppy smacks of your mouth against his made you giddy, fingers curling over his shoulders and keeping him close. His hand slipped under your sweater, palm pressing into your ribs like a brand. A submissive whimper was pulled from your throat, a dizzy feeling filling your head. You didn’t know if it was from the lack of oxygen or the alcohol you’d drank earlier.
Heat was pooling between your legs, making your thighs momentarily squeeze against his. The feeling of Eddie touching you made your insecurities about how your body had changed melt away, he didn’t seem to mind the softer parts of you as much as you did. Your hands traveled to his belt and traced the silver buckle of it, making Eddie pull away with a shake of his head. “Not tonight, baby,” he murmured, a sheepish smile curling his pink lips.
Despite the small part of your mind that was still rational, it felt like a slap to the face. You stiffened in his hold as you yanked your hands back like you’d touched a hot stove. “Oh, uh, sorry. I misunderstood,” you murmured, trying to tamp down the sting of rejection. You didn’t want him to feel bad, there wasn’t anything to feel guilty for.
Eddie snorted, shaking his head again. “Trust me, I want to,” he breathed, gently cupping your cheek. Something burned in his gaze. His thumb pressed into the corner of your spit-slicked lips, his chocolate brown eyes lingering for a moment. “Just don’t want to when you’re drunk, not in the back of my van.”
There was a sincerity in his tone that made you melt, rejection fading into yet another reason you felt like you were starting to fall head over heels for Eddie. “Okay, you’re right,” you said sweetly, turning your head to kiss the pad of his thumb.
“You want me to pick another tape?” The silence that had fallen over the van became noticeable. 
He laughed, seemingly having forgotten what had gotten the two of you tangled together in the first place. “No Madonna in the van, those are the rules,” he said, his fingers caressing your jaw. “Even for pretty girls like you.”
“Oh shut up,” you sighed, your face heating up despite yourself. “You’re just trying to butter me up so I pick Metallica.” 
Eddie snorted, the width of his shoulders squaring with confidence as he kept you in the space between his arm and torso. You could feel how warm he was. “You really think so?” he asked, the soft lilt of a tease in his voice.
“I wouldn’t put it past you.” It still felt like there was lightning between your ribs, electricity pooling at every juncture where you and Eddie touched. 
“But, I was teasing you. It’s a Van Halen cassette… you would know that if you’d bothered to read it before you decided to wrestle me for it.” You stamped another kiss against the tip of his nose. He wrinkled it endearingly, making you smile.
“Well now I’m glad I didn’t.”
546 notes · View notes
winterarmyy · 25 days
Text
Baby, Fever & Cuddles
Glimpses of the grumpy chubby alpha!bucky's love life.
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Summary: When Y/N unexpectedly cancelled their date plan, Bucky’s troubled mind seemed to jump right into the worst case scenario, but the reality was not quite what he thought.
Note: This is a part of 《 And You're Mine 》 AU.
Pairing: chubby alpha!bucky x omega!female!reader
Words: 3.5k++
Warnings: a/b/o dynamics. fluffy and soft feels with our chubby!alpha!bucky.
P/S: My writing is quite rusty after months of not utilizing it, so forgive me for that. Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy this short fic and happy reading! 🤍
Read my other works here: Masterlist
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Bucky has been staring, or more accurately, glaring at the reflection of himself for far too long now. Completely distracted with the image on the mirror, he did not notice how his well-made bed is now crowded with piles of his clothing items.
Hoodies, jeans, dress-shirts and even the dinner suit that he got last year; they were all mixed up in an untamed way. He might need a couple of hours to re-organize those but it does not matter right now.
What matters is what should he wear for his second date with y/n? So far everything he tried on was either too fancy or too tacky. “For fuck’s sake, it’s just a coffee date. Just pick one and go, Jesus.” Bucky’s inner Alpha has been nagging him to get this over with, because he’s going to be late to the date, especially if he plans to pick-up a bouquet for her.
Now standing in his red Henley, which he deemed was appropriate, he could not look past the soft bulge on his stomach. The bright colour of the fabric did nothing to hide the unflattering shape of his belly. He twisted his body to the side and unintentionally grimaced at the sight.
Bucky instinctively sucked in a deep breath, trying to hide the extra fat of his body; giving a glance of the shadow of his past self when he was but a man with a well-built body.
Bucky sighed out the breath that held, and his belly naturally morphed into the original shape. He really can’t hide his imperfections; not his belly nor his prosthetic arm. As he stares at the source of his insecurities, he remembered the night of his first date with her;
"Because Bucky, you are as lovable as a person can be." She placed his palm on either side of her cheeks, purring as the sensation on skin felt so right, "And I am absolutely honoured and proud to be standing here with an alpha like you." She smiled like she was the happiest omega on earth.
His cheeks heats into shades of red and pink as the memories remind him of her; the softness of her skin against his palms, that cute little purr she made and her sweet scent that he was already addicted to.
Before the blood managed to rush further down to his spine, he shook off the unholy thoughts produced by inner alpha. Bucky glanced at the mess on his bed from the reflection of the mirror and let out a sigh before glaring at himself, “What are you so afraid of?”.
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Now that he was standing in front of her apartment, Bucky suddenly remembered why.
His heart pounds, his palms were sweating within his leather gloves, his fingers fiddled with the delicate material of the bouquet wrappings. The second date is different compared to the first; there’s more expectation, which means there might be more disappointment awaits.
Not that he would be displeased with y/n but he is afraid that she will be with him. A few sweet words that she spoke on their first date might work to calm him down at the moment, but it is not enough to make his years worth of insecurity disappear completely.
Bucky gulped nervously as he lifted his hand towards the door; he knew that he was quite early from the promised time, but he couldn’t help it. As much as he is afraid of what will come, he was as excited to see her again. She had been occupying his mind like no other; he misses her. A lot.
When he was about to knock on the door, his phone rang. Slipping it out of his pocket, his phone almost fell from his hands, when he read the name on the caller’s placeholder. Y/N. He took a deep breath and slid the icon across the screen, “Hello. Hi” Bucky’s tongue was already tied with just two words out.
“Hi, Bucky.” she greeted with softly. That alone was enough make his heart skipped a beat. “Hi, y/n.” Bucky could not control the dreamy undertone in his voice, if only she could see the soft haze in his gaze, “What’s up?”
“Really, Bucky? ‘What’s up’?” he mentally scolded himself for this choice of words. A brief silence followed his question. “Was that… hesitation?” a thought popped at the back of his head. “Ummm, listen, Bucky…” her voice dripped with uncertainty.
Bucky’s fist around the stem of the bouquet got a little tighter when she continued, “..I’m sorry. But, I think we should cancel our plans today. Umm, some, uh, something came up and I think I can’t make it...” Her cryptic reasons were just a buzzing sound in his ear now.
What was he expecting? That this time it’ll be different? He’s finally gonna have the happy ending he deserves? No. Of course, not.
“What was I thinking?” Bucky’s head slightly lean forward as he try to recollect himself, “I understand.” He replied. y/n quickly apologised for her sudden decision but Bucky was not really listening.
He was just trying to clear out the dark clouds in head by leaning his head to the apartment door. But when his hand was trying to support his weight against the wall, he accidentally pressed the doorbell.
“Shit!” he cursed under his breath. Panic arose when y/n asked if he could hold for a minute while she get the door. “No wait! y/n don--”, a few milliseconds later, the door was wide open, revealing the omega who's been occupying his mind for weeks.
“Bucky?” Her eyes widened; shocked at first but morphed into a pleasant smile. “You’re here?” she was awfully in glee to see the alpha, especially when she saw the pretty bouquet of carnations in his hand. But the joy only lasted for a short moment, until she realised, “Don’t tell me you were already here when I called you…” a soft gasp came from the smaller, her eyes glistening with guilt.
Bucky thought that there’s no way to go about this other than telling the truth, “Yeah. I’m sure you have a good reason to cancel our date. And since you’re here, umm, here.” hands trembling, he extended the bouquet towards her, his gruff exterior softened by the shy smile on his lips, “….for you.”
y/n’s cheeks flushed with delight as she accepted the flowers, “Awww, Bucky.” She held the soft petals towards her face, inhaling the spicy clove-y scent. Reminded by the time she first met him, the corners of her lips curled upwards into a tender smile before looking up at him with a sparkle of alluring mischief in her gaze.
In that split second, something was triggered at the back of Bucky’s mind. It seemed like he had seen this view before. In fact, it is almost identical. Including this very moment, when she tiptoed upwards, her tender gesture of cupping one side his chubby cheek and her soft lips pressed on the other, "Thank you for the flowers, alpha." She whispered against his skin.
When the omega looked up at him with that sweet smile on her lips, his inner alpha was ready to pounce on her and it was all from just that one innocent kiss, “You’re welcome, doll” His hand snaked around her waist, pulling her body close to his, “Glad you liked it.” He returned her kiss with his own, a gentle grab on the side of her head and a loving kiss on her cheek.
A pleasant shiver crawled all over his body, his cheeks heated up and his ears reddened. Bucky’s eyes soften into a hazy gaze that if she look closely, she might see hearts twinkling in his ocean blues.
He wanted more. More of her lips, more of her gentle touch. More of her.
Before the sounds of their soft laughter could spread, the loud shrieking sound of a crying baby coming from y/n’s apartment startled both of them to a freeze. y/n was quick on her feet, “Oh no, Daisy.” she gasped as she broke out from Bucky’s loose grip.
The omega purred in delight to his gesture, her hand instinctively went to grab on his shoulder; literally melting in his embrace when she lost her stance.
Good thing Bucky had his arms securely around her because if not she would’ve ended up on the floor. Bucky chuckled amusingly when he slowly led her body to lean back, almost dangling on his arm, as his kisses lingered on her jaw.
“Come on in, Bucky.” she shouted when she entered the living room area. Bucky didn’t reject her offer, and stepped into the foyer. Closing the door behind him, he saw how some of her shoes were organised at the entrance; he quietly took off his shoes and slipped into one of the fuzzy guest slippers that was laid on the side.
Stepping further inside, he realised that this was his first time in y/n’s home. He felt a wave of warmth enveloped him like a comforting embrace. His eyes wandered around the corridor, noticing the photographs on the wall; each frame a snapshot of cherished moments frozen in time. Smiling faces gazed back at him, capturing the essence of love and laughter that filled the air.
As Bucky entered the living room, he was met with the sight of y/n tenderly coaxing a crying baby into calmness; swaying the little bundle to the rhythm of her quiet lullaby. His heart skipped a beat at the gentle scene, though he knew instinctively that the baby wasn't her own. Any other normal person would’ve thought the opposite. But the lack of semblance in their scent gave it away.
y/n glanced up, a mixture of apology and relief in her eyes. "This is Daisy, my next-door neighbour's baby girl," she explained, her voice soft with concern. "Her mother caught a high fever all of the sudden, and Mr.Scott is out of town for work.”
Bucky’s steps stopped when he reached by y/n’s side, “The couple is not from here. They just moved from the UK a few months ago. They don’t have any family here.” Bucky silently listened to her explanation as his eyes peered at the baby in her arms; now calmed and curious of the tall stranger next to y/n.
“I volunteered to care for her while the mother went for a checkup at the nearby medical centre." y/n explained as she softly wiped the remaining tears on Daisy's cheeks, "I'm sorry," y/n continued, her tone tinged with guilt. "I know it's selfish of me to cancel our date because of this."
Her teeth sunk into her bottom lips. “I could’ve suggested a day care or something. But instead, I took the job.” She chuckled when Daisy babbled some incoherent words.
Bucky quickly intercepted her before she could come up with other lines of unnecessary explanation. He shook his head, a gentle smile gracing his lips. "No, don't be," he reassured her, his gaze softened as the baby chortled gleefully. "I can see why it's hard to resist."
The atmosphere shifted into something else; sweet and warm until the sound of the oven timer went off. "And that would be my lunch burning," y/n remarked, relief evident in her tone. Without missing a beat, she passed Daisy into Bucky’s arms, and he instinctively cradled her close.
It was his first time holding a baby. He knows that babies are small, I mean everybody knows that. But he never realises how light they are. No wonder people say they are fragile.
It's the softest thing he ever touched, he could not believe it. So, he does it again and again. Apparently it is amusing to Daisy that Bucky was playing with her cheeks, the little sweetheart squeal and chortle every time he poked his finger on her. There was no denying the fact that Bucky’s heart was tugged in several different directions whenever she shrieked in joy.
When Bucky’s hand reached to touch Daisy’s cheeks, he realised that maybe handling a baby with leather gloves and jacket was probably not the best idea. He skillfully took them off while cradling the baby close to his chest.
When he was done stripping to Henley, he brought his fleshed finger and poked Daisy’s round cheek.
Bucky momentarily lifted his gaze and observed the chaos unfolding in the kitchen with a sense of understanding, then turned his attention back to baby Daisy, who gazed up at him with wide, adoring eyes. "How about I stay and help you babysit little Daisy?" he suggested, a warm smile playing on his lips. "Seems like you could use a helping hand."
Y/n’s eyes widened in surprise, touched by his offer. "You would do that?" she asked, her voice tinged with disbelief. "I don't see any reason not to," Bucky replied with a shrug. "We're…" his words halted when he thought about it, "…mates. No, not yet." his mind spoke. Stumbling over the word as he corrected himself. "You, You're my girl, after all."
A blush spread across y/n's cheeks at his words, butterflies fluttering in her stomach. "Plus, I think little Daisy wants me to stay," Bucky continued, “Don’t you, flower?” his smile grew as the baby chortled and gurgled in agreement.
So, both of them took the role of being temporary parents while getting to know more about each other. If Steve was there to see this scene he’d tear up from how beautiful it was. The way they naturally tend to each other’s every need and how natural their chemistry clicked.
It was so effortless, as if they were two pieces of a puzzle finally finding their perfect fit. From the moment they stepped into the cosy haven of Daisy's world, there was an unspoken understanding between them, a shared connection that transcended mere words.
And the time flows like a gentle stream, Bucky and y/n found themselves swept up in the rhythm of their newfound relationship, even in the chaos of taking care of Daisy. Hours and hours passed, and when the sun set in the horizon, they nestled on the floor, a makeshift fortress of pillows and blankets cocooned them from the harsh reality of the outside world. Daisy, the tiny bundle of joy they were entrusted to care for, lay peacefully cradled in y/n’s arms.
As Bucky watched y/n’s gently sway with Daisy, he couldn't help but marvel at the tenderness in her touch. Her eyes sparkled with maternal warmth, a sight that stirred something deep within him. He had never seen such a sight before – so serene, so utterly captivating.
Daisy, in her innocence, reached out with tiny hands, her curious gaze fixating on Bucky’s metal fingers. With a playful gleam in her eyes, she chomped down on the cold material, eliciting a surprised yelp from Bucky. y/n chuckled softly, her laughter like music to his ears.
"Looks like Daisy's taken a liking to you," y/n remarked, her voice soft and affectionate.
Bucky grinned, gently wiggling his fingers out of Daisy’s mouth. His swift movement to wipe the string of saliva from Daisy’s mouth makes it look like Bucky was an experienced father, "Seems that way. Guess I'll have to watch out for that scary toothless mouth of hers."
The moment stretched on, each passing second filled with a quiet intimacy that seemed to enveloped them in a world of their own. Y/n leaned back against a mound of pillows, Daisy nestled contentedly against her chest. Bucky lay beside them, his gaze drifting between his omega and the sleepy child cooing on her chest.
Y/n's gaze lifted, her eyes meeting Bucky’s with a soft, shy smile playing on her lips. As she nestled further into the warmth of Daisy's soft head, a gentle blush crept across her cheeks, adding a rosy hue to her already radiant complexion.
"What’s on your mind, Bucky?" she asked, her voice soft and quiet as she settled Daisy into her crib for a nap before sliding back into his arms. Bucky wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close.
In that moment, Bucky found himself lost in thought. He couldn't shake the feeling of déjà vu that washed over him, a fleeting memory of a similar scene with another woman.
It can’t be. She was a beta and y/n is an omega. It would be impossible. But what if…
"I was just thinking..." Bucky began, his voice trailing off as he searched for the right words. "Yes?" y/n's voice was a soft melody, laced with curiosity as she looked up at him. Bucky hesitated, unsure how to articulate the thoughts swirling in his mind. "Have we met before?" he finally asked, his tone tinged with uncertainty.
A playful grin danced across y/n's lips as she teased, "I don't know. Have we?"
Bucky felt a pang of surprise at her cheekiness, but he pressed on, recounting the memory of rescuing a girl from a dangerous situation in a park. "I can't help but see similarities between her and you," he admitted, his browdls furrowing with concern. "So, you think that I'm her?" y/n's tone was light, teasing, but there was a hint of something more beneath the surface.
He hesitated, grappling with the uncertainty of his own memories. "I'm not sure...I never saw her face," he confessed, his voice tinged with regret. Y/n rolled her eyes playfully, a mischievous glint in her gaze. "Took you long enough to notice," she quipped, her words laced with humour.
Shocked with the revelation, his words stumbled, "But, but she's a beta, and you're..."He trailed off, his voice trailing as he struggled to find the right words. "An omega. Always was, still am," She finished for him, a knowing smile playing on her lips.
"But your scent?" Bucky questioned, his confusion evident in his voice, “It changed?”
"Scent blockers," She explained simply, her tone softening as she reached out to brush a stray lock of hair away from his face. "It's a long story, we'll get there soon enough. But for now..." She trailed off, her gaze meeting his with a warmth that sent shivers down his spine. "How have you been, Alpha?"
Bucky felt his heartstrings pull at the affection in her words, and without hesitation, he pulled her close, burying his face in the crook of her neck as he inhaled her scent deeply. "Better. Much better, 'mega," he murmured, his voice filled with a tenderness that spoke volumes.
Bucky briefly pulled away from her, their eyes locked in a silent exchange and he felt a surge of tenderness wash over him, his heart swelling with affection for this beautiful woman who had stolen his heart. He reached out instinctively, brushing a stray lock of hair away from y/n's face, his touch as gentle as a whisper.
As Bucky leaned in closer, the soft brush of his breath against y/n's lips sent a thrill through her. His eyes, filled with a gentle intensity, held hers captive as he closed the distance between them. With a tender touch, he pressed his lips softly against hers, a delicate caress that ignited a spark between them.
In that moment, time seemed to stand still as their lips met in a sweet and innocent kiss. She felt a rush of warmth flood through her, enveloping her in a cocoon of bliss. His kiss was like a gentle breeze on a warm summer day, soft and inviting, yet undeniably electrifying.
Y/n herself could feel the steady beat coming from between her thighs, she was pretty sure Bucky could feel it too. Of course he could, and he enjoyed the symphony of longing and desire that pulsed against his thigh. If she ever snuck her tiny hands on his crotch, she would know how much he enjoyed her soft lips; and her pretty princess part.
As they melted into each other's embrace, she lost herself in the sensation of his lips against hers; his hands rubbing the naked skin underneath her shirt.
While she was floating in the clouds, Bucky was at the brink of his sanity. He wanted to make his claim on her, to have her entirely to himself. and when the kiss deepened, he couldn’t contain his needy growl. His thick thigh naturally settled in between hers, gently guiding her hips down and her heat against the layer of his jeans.
Just as things began to heat up, a soft whine emanated from Daisy's crib, breaking the spell and bringing them back to reality. They pulled away from each other with shared laughter, their cheeks flushed with embarrassment as they realised they had been caught in the act by their tiny charge.
She glanced over at Daisy with a fond smile, her heart swelling with affection for the little interrupter. "So much for a second date, huh?" she joked, her tone laced with amusement.
Bucky met her gaze with a grin of his own, his eyes twinkling with mirth. "I wouldn't want it any other way," he replied, his voice filled with sincerity; they shared a final kiss, a promise of more to come, before turning their attention back to Daisy, who had already drifted back into a peaceful slumber.
As they settled back into their makeshift nest on the floor, Bucky and y/n knew that their love story was just beginning – a tale of unexpected encounters, stolen kisses, and the sweet promise of a future together.
End.
Read my other works here: Masterlist
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A/N: im in my soft feels latelyyyyy and i miss this couple 😭 anyway, i hope you enjoyed this short fic 🤍
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itoshiexx · 5 months
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thin line
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synopsis: four times itoshi rin said he hated you, and the one time he finally said the truth.
pairing: itoshi rin x gn!reader | words: 5k (insane) | warnings: enemies to (implied) lovers, cursing (rin being rin), rin is a total tsundere and emotionally constipated, banter, teasing, one (1) sexual implication towards the end, i use the word hate a lot, kinda proofread
notes: oh my GOD. you have no idea how hard it was for me to write (and finish!) this. writer's block has been kicking my ass really hard and honestly i don't even know if i like this but i swear to god if this flops i'll kms. (jk. maybe. or not.)
masterlist sae's 4+1
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i.
itoshi rin was a hater. 
he didn’t consider himself one, naturally. rin thought he was a pretty chill guy, but apparently, everyone who had some sort of interaction with the younger itoshi felt the same kind of vibe coming from him. at least, it was what his stupid teammates said after claiming rin was always hating on something — whether it was the line in the coffee shop being too long, every pass given to him by isagi or the librarian with “a stupid fish-face”.
on his defense, no one liked long lines, isagi had two left feet when it came to passing and the librarian was a fucking weirdo. even if he was a hater, he had a plausible reason for everything he hated. 
“itoshi.”
that included you, of course.
rin was pretty convinced it was impossible not to hate you. every time he entered your shared biology class, a mere look at you was enough for his irk to grow even more. everything about you was just obnoxious.
you were loud. and, although unpleasant, that wouldn’t be much of a problem if you just weren’t unable to shut the fuck up and stop rambling excitedly at every friend you met. and you had many. you were some kind of weird social butterfly with infinite energy for social interactions — in a way, you reminded him of bachira. 
but bachira was not always jumping at every chance to refute him with a know-it-all smirk. bachira wasn’t perpetually ready to throw witty remarks at his rudeness. and bachira definitely didn’t have a pretty gleam on his eyes every time he headbutted with rin.
in short, you were everything itoshi rin hated. and the worst part was that you knew. you knew how much your very existence annoyed him, and it seemed like you took as your life mission to make the next two years of his life a living hell. 
“itoshi.” your voice reached his ears again. well, maybe if he just ignored you, you would… “itoshi!”
“what the fuck do you want?” he snapped, diverting his attention from the match playing on his phone to look at you. “i told you not to call me that.”
another thing he hated — to be called by his last name. it reminded him way too much of sae, and that was something rin didn’t want to do. but it wasn’t like he was going to tell you that, so he’d rather let you think he just didn’t want you to address him at all. which wasn’t a lie, either. 
you gave him a puzzled look, tilting your head like an innocent puppy. a fake naivety, of course. “we’re not close enough for me to call you by your first name, though.”
“thank fuck.” 
your eyes rolled at that. “language, itoshi.” he glared at you again, and you fixed your posture, putting your hands on the back pockets of your jeans. the malicious smile you gave sent chills down his spine. 
“well, i just came to deliver you the news since you missed last period. there’s a project worth 75% of our grade to be delivered in two months, and guess what? we’re together!”
oh, hell no.
“you tell terrible jokes.”
“i’m serious, though. if you don’t believe me, just ask your friends,” you said, so absentmindedly that rin felt his blood pressure rising. he opened his mouth to retort, but you beat him to it. “and before you try, the teacher already said no one can work alone and that the pairs cannot be exchanged.”
his left eye twitched, and he was pretty sure all his muscles were tight and ready to combust. life just couldn’t give him a break, could it? it was like he was being punished — forced to work with you, of all people. what a fucking nightmare. 
how the hell was he supposed to endure two months of constant interactions with your annoying sassiness and the pretty curve of your lips when you smirked? it might just drive him crazy. 
“so, when can we start, partner?”
rin rolled his eyes so hard they almost got stuck on the back of his skull. 
“i hate you.”
ii.
the soccer field was probably the only place rin felt at peace. the smell of grass and sweat was as familiar as his home, much like the round shape of the ball on his feet and the path to the goal. despite his rowdy teammates and their dumb antics, there wasn’t much that was able to distract him and break this peacefulness.
“itoshi!”
there was still something, though. or someone, for that matter.
the shock of seeing you in his “happy place” was so big rin nearly tripped on the ball, successfully letting bachira steal it from him. the snickers from reo and isagi made his skin boil with anger, but his harsh glare was directed at you — the fucking source of all his problems. 
and no, he was not being dramatic. 
“what are you doing here.” 
it wasn’t really a question, more like a veiled threat; but you seemed oblivious to it, or simply didn’t care about his reaction. something in him even thought you liked getting on his nerves. he was sure of it when you smirked.
“the project, dummy. we need to start today if we want to get it done in time. it’s pretty long, hence why we have two months.”
“i can’t today,” was all he said. 
“why?”
“because,” rin spat with venom on his tongue, “i have an important game next week.”
you stared at him in silence. rin would have thought about how the sun shining on your back framed you with a perfect halo and gave you a nearly angelic look if he wasn’t so busy controlling the heat on his face from your scrutiny. he hated when you did that. he hated you. 
“we have to start today, itoshi. i’ll wait until you finish practicing so we can go to the library.”
he hated your stubbornness. he hated your voice, too — how it sounded like a siren’s melody, ready to trap him and bring him to the bottom of the ocean.
“fine. suit yourself.”
the young itoshi turned around and went back to the field, ignoring aryu’s pestering and shidou asking about who you were and if he could have your number. rin pondered if a yellow card was worth shutting up the insect, but eventually decided against it; he didn’t want ego to bench him, especially when they were so close to the tournament next week. 
the rest of the game went pretty smoothly, although rin and his teammates could tell he had half of his focus on the sidelines, where you sat prettily at the stands with your laptop. a perpetual scowl was on his face throughout the rest of the match. you were so damn distracting it was annoying. 
once the match was over, some of the boys went home, while others continued practicing, rin being one of them. he was expecting you to grow tired and give up, especially considering it was getting darker and colder, but you didn’t waver. your face was still present on the stands, haunting him even if he closed his eyes. you even had the audacity to smile when your gazes crossed.
he hated your smile. he did. 
hours passed until every one of his teammates had gone home, and rin was the only one left in the field. deciding it was finally enough (and not admitting he was starting to worry for you), he stopped his moves, finishing up with a few stretches so that his muscles weren’t too sore. he stored the footballs on the cart and put away the cones, something that was already routine at that point since he was usually the last one to leave.
finally, rin walked towards you. 
“i’m done,” he said as he approached you on the sideline of the field. his gym bag was right at your side, and he ignored the electricity that sparked his skin when it grazed yours. 
your eyes averted from your laptop to look at him. “oh, hi! thought you’d take a little longer,” you retorted. “anyways, i’m done too.”
he stopped his movement. “what?”
“yeah, i finished the first topic. only fourteen more to go.” the giggle that flew out of your mouth reverberated through his body. rin watched as you stood up and stretched, looking away when your shirt rode up and a sliver of your stomach could be seen. you then proceeded to put your laptop away, and his brows furrowed. 
“i don’t get it. i thought you said… you said it was too much stuff to do by yourself.” you nodded, not even looking at him. rin kind of wished you did. “and yet you did everything?”
“well, yes.”
his scowl only worsened. “what the fuck? why?”
you slung your bag through your shoulder, looking at him with those damn doe-eyes that always sparkled so much. it was annoying. why did they remind him of the stars? and why did rin wanted to watch the night sky on your face?
“you said you have an important game next week, so i figured it wouldn’t kill to do the first topic by myself,” you answered. “don’t get used to it, though! you’re gonna have to help on the next ones, partner.”
the young itoshi ignored the stupid nickname, his brain still trying to catch up to everything. something just wasn’t clicking…
“so why the hell did you wait for me to finish practice?”
you didn’t even falter.
“thought you could use the company.” you shrugged. and although your voice was nonchalant, you were smiling. and not your typical mischievous smirk — it was a sweet, sweet smile, dripped in honey and all things good in the world. 
rin’s heart leaped on his chest. he could feel his cheeks becoming flushed, but he blamed it on the cold. 
coming to think of it, it was really cold. and you sat there for hours… if he looked closely, he could see your frame shivering from the lack of proper clothing. 
a little tsk came out of his mouth, and rin impulsively took off his jacket, throwing it on your face — ignoring the “hey!” you sent his way.
“what’s that for, itoshi?!”
“so that you don’t freeze to death, dumbass.”
rin had to admit your gaping expression was kind of cute. not that he would commit to memory or something… that would be lukewarm, and he was anything but lukewarm. especially when it came to you. 
“don’t get any ideas, though,” he said before you could retort, turning around to follow the path to his dorm room, “i still hate you.”
iii.
things were calmer after the game passed. rin often found himself at the university library with you after his practice, leaving around nine or ten, and walking you to your dorm building simply because he didn’t want to be bothered in case something happened to you. not like he was worried for your safety or anything.
you still got on his nerves, but the project was going surprisingly well. rin learned you were very dedicated and meticulous, meaning you put in a lot of effort to focus and make everything as perfect as it could be. he wished he could say his focus was also as sharp as ever, but the scent of your coconut shampoo always lingered on the study booths and made his mind fuzzy. 
it was tuesday night and you were both on your laptops doing research and writing on your paper, falling into the same little routine you established the past weeks. the library was nearly empty as usual — though you always sat at the furthest cabin because rin didn’t like to see, hear or speak to people — and the only sound in the ambience was the pitter patter of the rain. 
everything seemed to be going fine, but things changed when the rain got heavier and became a strong thunderstorm that made the lights go out.
“fuck,” rin cursed under his breath, looking around to hear other people mumbling complaints and the librarian saying she would turn on the power generator, asking for calm and patience. he squeezed the bridge of his nose, annoyed, and turned to you. “hey, do you think—”
then he stopped. 
the only source of light was the screen of your laptops and the occasional lightning striking on the dark sky, but rin could see you on the other side of the table as clear as day. and he felt his heart squeeze impossibly hard with the sight. 
you were shaking like a leaf, hands squeezed tight and nails prickling your skin, and your eyes were widened and so, so scared. he had never seen you wear such an expression, always familiar with your confidant, cheery self, and he decided he didn’t like one bit. 
“hey,” he whispered, trying to grasp your attention. however, your eyes were focused outside. “hey, look at me.”
slowly, your orbs met his, and rin felt his breath hitch. there were tears on your lash line threatening to fall, and panic began to rise on his throat; but he forced himself to stay calm for your sake. 
“what’s wrong?”
your lips trembled, but nothing came out. he hated your voice, but found himself missing it. so he tried again.
“are you… afraid of the dark?”
his question was answered when the sound of another thunder reverberated again, making you visibly flinch. his gaze softened when a small hiccup left your lips. 
“oh. it’s the thunder.”
you nodded, still unable to talk. rin could see you were forcing yourself to keep your sobs contained, as if the mere thought of crying in front of him was as dangerous as standing at gunpoint. like his words — venomous, harsh, cold words — could hurt you just as much as a bullet. 
his stomach churned with that thought. he hated it. 
so, as carefully as he could so as not to startle you, rin stood up from his seat and walked around the table until he reached the chair at your side, sitting on it. he felt you body tense with the proximity, more so when he slightly turned to stare at you, and felt the need to say something.
“it’s okay,” he murmured, so impossibly soft you could hardly believe it was itoshi rin saying those words to you. 
it was even more unbelievable when he enveloped your body in a hug, bringing your head to his chest as if to shelter you from the thunder. 
rin really hoped you couldn't hear the unrestrained beating of his heart. everything about that moment made him nearly combust; from the ever present smell of your shampoo when he rested his nose in your hair, the evident relaxation of your frame when he hugged you or the small arms that held his waist as if he was the only lifeline in the ocean. 
you let your sobs and sniffles run free, burying yourself deeper in his embrace, and all rin could do was pat your hair and whisper soft reassurances on your ear. 
it’s okay. you are safe. i won’t let it hurt you. 
he didn’t know how long you both stayed in that position, but as he enjoyed the warmth of your body next to his, your sobs eventually died out along with the roaring sound of thunder. the rain became thinner and the lights finally came back, although neither of you made a move to separate. 
the silence lingered for a moment before you broke it, “thank you.”
the male only hummed, trying to hide his disappointment when you slowly backed away. though his hand didn’t leave you, going from your hair to rest on your hip in some type of reassurance squeeze. 
“i-i’m sorry, it’s just…”
“you don’t have to explain,” he interrupted. then, hesitantly added, “only if you want to.”
“it’s not something big or anything… this fear has just kind of been there. i think something happened to me when i was a kid and it was thundering, so every time it happens i just… freeze.” you shook your head. “it’s stupid.”
he frowned. “it’s not stupid if it makes you this terrified. it’s okay, we all have fears.”
you were yet to look him in the eye, seemingly embarrassed about your triggered phobia. “i cried on your shirt.”
“yeah.”
“it has tears stains.”
“yeah.”
you sighed. “i’m sorry.”
he squeezed your hip again. “don’t apologize.”
you finally raised your head to look at him, and rin could very much consider himself a lost man at that moment. your eyes were glistening from the remnant of tears, but that pretty gleam was still there, barging its way through any sadness and any fear to present itself with the shy smile you sent him.
even if it was still dark, he would be able to see it, because you shined. brightly, scorchingly and so, so mesmerizing, like some sort of classic painting worth millions of dollars. if rin had the choice, he wouldn’t want to look away. 
“i think it’s enough for today,” you said, “do you mind if we continue tomorrow?”
“i don’t mind,” rin answered, although he secretly wished to bask in your warmth for a little longer. “i’ll take you to your dorm building. i brought an umbrella.”
because he knew you were a klutz and would most likely forget. not that he paid attention to you or something. 
you smiled again, and rin had to use all of his might to let go of you and go back to his chair to pick up his stuff. silently, you both put away your things and left the study booth towards the exit, where the younger itoshi opened his umbrella and started to walk towards your destination. he felt his skin burning when you tangled your arm with his so that you were squeezed together under the shelter for the rain.
around ten minutes later, you finally arrived at your dorm building. and then, as the little minx you were, you stood on your toes to press a kiss to his cheek before running inside along with your goodbyes. 
“thank you, rin!”
he stood there like a statue for what felt like an eternity, feeling his face impossibly hot. rin touched his cheek in mild disbelief, feeling butterflies erupting on his stomach without permission. 
it was only then he realized you called him by his actual name, and a smile inevitably took over his features. 
fuck.
itoshi rin hated you. but that day, he discovered that he hated seeing you cry even more.
iv.
he didn’t really know what the fuck he was doing there. rin was not the kind of guy who went to parties, much less fraternity ones; but somehow he ended up in one on a saturday night after a lot of convincing from his teammates. he claimed he only accepted so that isagi would shut up and stop pestering him, but the said boy insisted to say he only agreed after learning you would be there. 
which was absurd, of course. a completely crazy, delusional and absurd thought. why would he want your obnoxious self to go and ruin the party? rin hated you. 
right?
the music was loud and the people were even louder. there were dozens of bodies on the makeshift dance floor swaying to the beat, along with some people playing beer pong and small groups scattered around talking as best as they could. rin was part of the last type, although he was tuning out everything that bachira blabbed on his ear like a madman. his focus was solely on the entrance.
and then, you came in. 
it was like a stupid romance movie — the way everything seemed to be in slow motion. from the way you walked, to the slight movement of your hair, to the blink of your curved eyelashes. and god, how much he hated that. 
he hated the way your mere presence prickled his skin. how your voice soothed his lousy thoughts, how your smile lit up the room. he hated this urge inside of him to look for you every time he knew you'd be in the same vicinity, like you were some source of life that he couldn’t live without. 
“are you okay, rin-chan?” bachira’s voice took him out of his thoughts. he blinked a few times.
“yeah, i’m fine.”
now, rin wasn’t a drinker; the red cup on his hand was merely for show. but he gulped some beer at that moment, as if trying to wake up from a hazy dream or get out of a trance. it made sense — he did think you were a siren of some sort. 
there was no other reason for the spell you put on him. 
the party went on, and he spent a few hours avoiding you like the plague and pretending he wasn’t stealing glances at every chance he got. truth is, he was always paying attention when you were swaying your hips on the dance floor like there was no tomorrow, glaring at every guy who thought about getting close while holding back his own desire to do the same.
it was only when you left to the backyard that his teammates finally decided to say something.
“you should talk to them” reo advised, eyebrows dancing in a weird, wiggly way. rin grimaced.
“what? why?”
the boys rolled their eyes and groaned, tired of the younger itoshi’s behavior. 
“rin, man. you are clearly interested in them. and i’m pretty sure they’re interested in you, too,” isagi said slowly, as if rin was a child. “otherwise, they wouldn’t make the effort to pester you.”
rin could feel his face flushing. “i’m not—”
“don’t even try to deny it. it’s kind of obvious, really,” chigiri butted in, an exasperated countenance on his face. “just go, rin.”
he let out a tsk, chugging the rest of his drink and throwing the cup on the trash. “i’m going out just because i don’t want to keep listening to you idiots.” 
“yeah, right,” nagi snickered, and the others followed, watching rin turn his back and move towards the backyard, where he would inevitably find you. 
the chilly air hit his skin the moment he stepped out, and rin kind of thanked the relief it gave to his hot cheeks. quickly looking around, it was easy to spot your lonely frame leaning on the wall, staring at the stars as if they weren’t in your eyes. he walked to you like his feet had their own will, and once he got close enough, leaned the side of his body on the wall, facing you.
“you’re cold.”
not even a hello, how are you to start. great conversationalist, itoshi rin.
you turned your head to look at him, smiling when recognition took over your features. “hey, itoshi! didn’t think i’d meet you here!”
the giggle that went past your lips was the only reason he didn’t scowl when you didn’t call him rin.
“parties are not really my thing, but my friends convinced me to come.” you nodded, understanding. he blinked a couple of times, and said again, “you’re cold.”
you slightly flushed. “it’s just a bit chilly, but it’s not a big deal…”
but rin was already shrugging off his jacket, moving to be right in front of you as if to shield you from the wind. he handed the piece of clothing to you. “here.”
“oh… thank you,” you answered, bashful, taking the jacket and putting it on. 
last time he lent you one, he didn’t stay to see how you looked like. but at that moment, rin was sure there was nothing prettier than the sight of you in his clothes. he swallowed a nervous lump from his throat.
“so… why are you out here by yourself?”
“needed some air. i danced a lot and it was kind of stuffy in there.” you shrugged. then, fiddling with your fingers, you look straight into his eyes. “and maybe… maybe i was hoping someone would follow.”
someone. you had your eyes on someone. 
rin didn’t know what was worse: the stinging pain on his heart or the bitter taste left on his tongue. what he did know was that both felt like poison, one that would spread through his veins and consume him whole. and that he shouldn’t feel like this. because he hated you, after all. 
he must have made a terrible grimace, because you threw your hands in the air in exasperation. 
“for fucks sake.”
and then your lips were on his. 
it was just a fleeting moment — something way too quick and definitely not enough to sate the dormant hunger inside of him. in the blink of an eye, you were already back in your place, staring at him with doe-eyes and a hundred doubts written in them. 
rin freezed for a whole full minute with his mouth agape, until finally lunging forward to kiss you again. his right arm wrapped possessively around your waist to glue your bodies together, while his left hand found a place in your jaw, cradling your face as if you were some precious jewel. his lips were hungry on yours, and you gasped with the intensity, giving him the opportunity to shove his tongue inside your mouth. 
kissing you was exhilarating, like scoring the perfect goal or winning a championship. adrenaline ran high on his veins and his head was a little airy. and rin swore he never felt so alive. 
when you finally parted, you were both panting, chest heaving with every breath. rin rested his forehead against yours, directing both of his hands to your middle as if to look for grounding. 
“you still hate me, itoshi?” you asked in a whisper, mouth inches away from his but still not close enough. that dangerous gleam was still settled in your eyes, and he could swear you were the perfect definition of sinful every time you batted your eyelashes at him.
“call me rin.”
“okay,” you giggled lightly. “you still hate me, rin?”
he could feel his blood pulsing on his ears. “yeah,” he answered, way too breathless for an athlete of his caliber. 
and then, holding your waist tighter, “kiss me again.”
v.
“we should get coffee.”
rin’s words cut the silence as you were exiting the library yet again. you looked up to see his face staring straight ahead, expression unreadable as always, but the light redness on the tip of his ears told you all you needed to know. 
you decided to be a tease, as always. “hm… i don’t know, should we? you sure you want to spend even more time with someone you hate?”
he scowled like usual, but this time, there was a small pout on his lips. you thought he looked the cutest when he was like that, all shy and trying to maintain his stoic act. 
he grumbled something under his breath. 
“what was that?”
“i said,” he sneered, “i don’t hate you, stupid.”
you arched your brow. “you don’t?”
“do you think i would have kissed you if i did?” the smirk you give him is both charming and infuriating. rin would have said he hated it, but he was done pretending. 
“i don’t know, itoshi. you are kind of emotionally constipated.”
“shut up,” rin quipped. then, he snaked your waist with his right arm as you walked side by side, pulling you closer. “and didn’t i tell you to call me rin?”
there was just mischief in your eyes when you answered, “yeah, but i like to get on your nerves.”
the male scoffed, still in disbelief with your antics. 
“you’re a damn brat. i think you just want me to teach you my name tonight.”
rin could practically feel the heat on your face, and he smirked when he saw how red you were. god, you were so cute. 
“at least take me to dinner first before we hate-fuck,” you still managed to joke, despite the slight shakiness in your voice. he rolled his eyes, and pulled you to a stop by the arm. 
you both stood in the middle of campus, feeling the gentle caress of the breeze and listening to the birds chirping. it was a peaceful day, with the sun high up in the baby blue sky. rin thought there was no better time than at that moment. 
his hand traced your arm until it reached your own, and he squeezed your fingers in reassurance. 
“i don’t hate you,” he said again. “i just hate the way i don’t hate you. not even close. not even a little bit. not even at all.”
he watched your eyes light up and smile brighter than the sun, and he almost laughed at the disbelief in your voice. 
“did you just quote ‘ten things i hate about you’?”
it was his time to flush. a small shrug was all rin answered with — he didn’t want you to know he specifically chose this sentence because that was your favorite movie. not like it mattered when you were gleaming at him and making his heart leap on his chest. 
“well, then,” you squeezed his hand back, “let’s get coffee, rin.”
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imaginesmai · 5 months
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Taken - Azriel
This is long and this is messy. I don't know where this came out, but shoutout to @marscardigan because she requested this fic so long ago I almost forgot. Enjoy the ANGST.
This is a fic inside the baker!reader universe from Right around the corner. You don't need to read the fics to understand but it will help you!
Plot: you're taken in the worst possible situation, and Azriel fights against time to find you.
Warnings: pregnant!reader, blood, wounds, death (not main characters).
You should have closed the bakery a while ago, you knew. You should have also taken a few days off and relay on Elain a bit more. As a matter of a fact, there was a long list of things you should have done better, most of them converged in the last month, but you were busy. And stubborn.
A very busy, very stubborn, very pregnant baker who was closing the bakery way too late.
You had been lucky that morning when you had won the first argument. It was Nyx birthday in a few days, and the boy wanted a special cake with the shadows of his uncle. And you had been working on it even if you were supposed to be on house arrest, only because Azriel was with you at all given time.
But that day, your mate had a meeting and he couldn’t stay with you, so originally you weren’t supposed to go. Originally. Since Azriel loved Nyx as much as you, he had agreed to leave you at the bakery on your own and not chain you to bed.
You hoped that agreement was still valid if he discovered how late it was.
“Alright” you muttered, looking down at the cake with your hands resting on your swollen belly. “I think it’s coming just fine, huh? One more floor and it’ll be the event of the year”
The cake had a base covered in black chocolate, small curls that simulated shadows coming from the bottom. You had already finished the worst part, and had the rest of the shadows ready in the oven for tomorrow.
While you admired your work, you rubbed your hands absentmindedly across your stomach. At the beginning on the third trimester, you looked ready to give birth. Maybe it was because of the wings, or maybe the baby already took upon his father’s size.
“I hope your tastes are less expensive than your cousin’s” you said, smiling when your rubs were answered by a strong kick. “That didn’t feel like agreeing”
The shadows that were already yours pushed you once more to the door, like they had been doing for the past hours, since the sun came down. Raising your hands up in defeat, you took the first step back home.
“Alright, I’m going. I’m going” you chuckled as they pressed more urgently now that you started walking. “I’m fine, it’s late but I’m finishing. Promise to put my feet up when I get home”
Talking with the shadows and with your baby was as common as talking to yourself. Just as Azriel, you seemed to understand what they wanted to tell you. You endured their constant tugging and pulling as you closed off the bakery.
Only when the door was locked and you turned to take the few steps to your house, you realized just how late it was.
“Oh” you blinked, looking around you. The babe sent another, softer kick.
The street was empty, the night silent. Not even the few cats that purred in the shadows happened to be there that night. Even though it was a summer night, you wrapped your arms around yourself as you put the key on your pocket and took the already usual wobbly steps.
At any given moment, you liked to think, you would have been more aware. Azriel had trained you for it, his family had too in the last years. But still, that one time you would have used any of that training, you couldn’t.
Your hand only made it to the knock of your door when the faebane arrow went clean through your shoulder. A clothe covered your mouth as the few shadows tried to blind whoever was behind you, not given you any time to scream or call for help. Gripping onto the last thread of consciousness, you tugged on the bond.
-
The meeting was taking far longer than what he would have liked.
It was supposed to be easy, to talk the problems out and to let Keir go with a warning. That was why Rhysand had asked him to come along, so that his shadows would snoop around while the male was busy. Because, if the high lord had known it would take so long, he wouldn’t have dared to separate Azriel from you.
Since you both solved your last argument, things had gotten better. He was ready to give himself to you, to become a better man for you and to be what you needed. And seven months ago, it had kept going – you were pregnant, with his child.
And if Azriel thought you were beautiful before, watching your body swell with a new life, watching you become a mother, made you perfect. The thought of you and your future child was what kept him put during hours.
He had known you were at the bakery alone; had known he was supposed to be home before dinner. But he waited, because he didn’t have a reason not to. Azriel felt a tug at the bond during the meeting, and sent a reassuring pull back.
He waited, until Keir left and he put a foot out of Hewn City. Cassian was waiting for them with his arms crossed, his back to their brothers.
“Missed us much?” Rhysand teased, letting himself smile for the first time in that day. “Is staying with – what’s wrong?”
Cassian turned around and his face fell. Azriel recognized earlier than Rhysand the fall of his shoulders, the slump on his wings. There was tension and pain written all over his face. His spymaster-mind ran over a few possibilities before his brother locked eyes with him – an attack to Velaris, an update about Beron’s plans, the revolution in the human’s lands. He even had time to worry about Nyx.
Then, he locked eyes and his breath got stuck in his throat.
“What?” he blurted out. The look on Cassian’s face threatened to swallow him down a spiral of panic. “Cassian, what?”
“What happened?” Rhysand asked, although he was already reading the general’s mind.
“Y/N’s been taken. Don’t know where yet or why” the general spoke, without dropping Azriel’s burning gaze. “I’ve got guards up in the sky and through Velaris”
“Taken?” the high lord asked again, frowning.
“Your shadows came into the wind house, somehow… Nyx knows. He told us what they saw. We are looking for her already, don’t panic. We will find her”
Rhysand could see through Cassian’s eyes, the burst of Azriel’s shadows and a crying Nyx in his room, waking him up. His son telling him about the shadows warning him in his sleep, asking the general if it was true and why they said that.
He looked at Azriel, who looked as pale as the bone wall behind them. The Illyrian tried to come up with something to say, just as he had done in so many similar occasions. It was him who remained calm when Rhysand went under the mountain, when Nyx’s life was threatened just after he was born. Azriel made plans, he was a skilled warrior.
Still, he could only tug on the bond and horrify at the emptiness that came back.
“I can’t feel her” he confessed, finally looking away from Cassian to Rhysand. “Why? Why can’t I feel her?”
“She isn’t dead” his brother answered immediately. “You would know. It’s the faebane, you won’t feel her if they have used it. Cassian, what do we know?”
“No smells, no traces. Bakery was empty and her apartment too. They must have taken her in between”
“Who would fucking take a pregnant woman?” Azriel blurted out. “She’s pregnant. She’s – fuck! In between? It’s – it’s two steps! There’s no space in between!”
“What else?” Rhysand ignored him.
“They sent a note”
Azriel’s panic died down for a moment when Cassian handed his high lord the note. He quickly snatched it away. Barely able to keep in place, he turned his back to his brothers and shamelessly used his shadows in his favor.
He heard his name being called, felt Rhysand demanding to be let in. His own power wasn’t a match for the high lord’s, but it would keep them out enough to read the note.
One of the first rules he applied when it came to kidnappings was to keep the family and loved ones out of it. They didn’t think clearly, and without wanting to, could endanger the victim. But it wasn’t just a person, it was you.
So, ignoring his own rules, he opened the note.
If you want Y/N and the baby safe, the spymaster will present himself at the given coordinates before sunrise. Impaled with faebane and with no hidden tricks. Once we deem so, we will deliver the girl in Windhaven.
Each hour past sunrise will be paid. Don’t be late.
We do not appreciate being hunted.
There were words, that made sentences, and that should have made sense. But all Azriel could see was your name, the word baby, and feel his chest tighten. That wasn’t a clue, there was no way they would find them before sunrise and bring you home to him. Right then, he understood why they kept family out of those types of matters.
The note was snatched out of his hands by a very angry looking Rhysand, with a pained Cassian behind his back.
As Rhysand read the note, Azriel let himself have a moment of sorrow. He turned every emotion upside down, explored them instead of refusing to acknowledge. For years, he had feared the possibility of you being taken from his side. There would be time to panic once he had you in his arms, to worry about the baby once he could touch your belly once more and check your pulse and breathing.
Azriel tugged on the bond once more, feeling the crushing emptiness back. There was nothing, and he was threatened to become nothing too. Instead, he tugged on the faint, thin bond that was still developing. It was barely a thread of your own, fragile but promising.
The bond with your child had been the cause of your discovery. One day it was only the two of you, and then Azriel felt something else. He tugged on that and, even if he didn’t receive anything back, he knew.
“They’re in the mountains” he looked at his brothers. “Can’t say where, but far from Windhaven”
“How are you sure?” Cassian asked, but Rhysand smiled knowingly. Sadly.
“The other bond. You shouldn’t pull too hard, Az. It’s – “
“I won’t. But I’m not letting one second go if I can find her” Azriel cut him off with a hard look. “You’re wasting your time in Velaris”
“Don’t you dare, Az”
Cassian words were lost in the wind as he winnowed away, Rhysand barely touching his forearm. He knew he shouldn’t tug on the bond so soon in his child’s life, that it would only put him at risk. Risk an early labor, risk your discomfort. But if it meant it would take him back to you, he would rip the word apart piece by piece.
-
You didn’t know how, but after all those years, all those good memories built that replaced the bad ones, you just knew. You recognized the painted walls, the stains on the ground, and the smell from the fire.
Nothing had changed over the centuries that had passed by, you realized. The tavern was just as terrible as it had been, just as dirty. They were just as tall and broad as they were, although not that many. And you were that scared girl that they ripped their wings from, tucked into a corner.
While they stared at you, you only hug your belly and tried to keep your tears at bay.
You had woken up a while ago, and they had only whispered between them. From what you had gathered, they didn’t expect the pregnancy, and were worried about it. The one who had clipped your wings so long ago wasn’t around, thanks to Azriel, but you recognized their faces.
You also recognized the blood stains on the ground and walls, courtesy of your mate and probably the reason you were in that position.
“It has closed” one of them broke the silence, frowning. “Why has it closed so soon? We just took it out”
“Must be the babe” the taller one, whom you remembered to be called Sandor, shrugged.
“It’s the third time – “
“All right, girl, you already know to stay put” Sandor sighed, as if it was a simple routine.
You refused to talk, refused to anger them just like you had done in the past and pay for your actions. It wasn’t just your life in the game, and right then, your priority wasn’t it.
With only the moon light through the window, Sandor knelt in front of you and grabbed a clean arrow. Two bloodied ones were discarded on the ground, ripped out of your shoulder and arm. Apparently, they didn’t want to risk you healing around the arrow, in case it would somehow affect the baby.
That didn’t mean they weren’t willing to stick another one once the wound was closed and there was a chance of Azriel feeling you through the bond.
For a moment, Sandor hesitated. It was clear that he wasn’t comfortable about your belly or the situation. Hurting you to get Azriel might had been fine, but hurting pregnant-you was debatable.
“Just do it, man. You might already ring the bells and light a bonfire” the nameless one snapped.
“Do you want to do it?” Sandor turned around on his knees. “Clyde, I’ve got a pregnant woman at home. And she looks ready to burst”
“It’s not your woman, it’s his. Do you want to stare at what used to be Burton?” Clyde pointed to the darkest stain. “Tell him if he wants to consider, take his time”
As they argued, you finally felt it. A tug, a breeze, nothing more than a feeling, but it was there. It was Azriel pulling at the bond like his life depended on it, with so much strength you were sure he was using power that wasn’t only his.
You blinked surprised at the change. It had taken you all your willpower not to panic when you woke up feeling nothing on the other side, and they hadn’t let enough time for your body to recover from the fae bane to feel it again. But as they argued, you silently cherished the discovery. Maybe it was the baby’s strength, maybe it was the cauldron leaning in your favor or any other force, but not only you were healing fast – you were getting the bond back.
Still looking at them, you tugged back. The bond went silent for a second, and you pressed against it again. You were hit with an overwhelming amount of worry, of fear but also love and relief. Azriel’s emotions became yours, and you were so glad it was about to be over that you unfocused your gaze.
It was enough for Clyde to notice your far-away look, and realize what was happening.
“Fuck, she’s warning him!” Clyde rushed forwards, taking the arrow out of Sandor’s grip. “You think you’re so smart?”
You blinked your fogginess away when he walked towards you, coming back to your senses. There wasn’t enough amount of love or assurance Azriel could send you that would stop you from panicking.
“No, wait” you pushed yourself farther into the corner as he moved closer, screaming at Azriel as loud as you could through the watered bond. “I didn’t! I didn’t!”
“You knocked-up, useless, brat” he gripped your ankle and pushed you towards him, your back and head hitting the ground. “Let’s see how you tell him this”
The momentary pain of hitting the ground wasn’t enough to drown the anguish of having a new arrow dug into your leg, just above your knee. The ceiling became blurry and his voices tuned out as you screamed in pain, your bounded hands trying aimlessly to break free.
You couldn’t remember the pain from the first one, seeing you were knocked out, and Sandor had managed to make the other one hurt less. But Clyde pushed his body weight onto your leg, the bottom of the arrow piercing the ground. You looked up and watched horrified as blood started leaking out through your pants and under your leg.
Moving away from him only caused the arrow to shift, but being near him was putting your baby close to the monster. So, in your panic, you tried to ease the pain by lifting your leg while shifting farther into the corner.
“How’s the bond now, uh? Is your pussy boy there?” he chuckled, while Sandor looked away. “Go on, tell him how bad we are”
“We should move” the third one spoke for the first time. “If he has felt her, he knows”
“You heard the boss” rough hands tried to push you up while you cried out.
“No” you repeated, letting Clyde put your whole weight up and almost collapsing after him. “Please, just let me go. Let me go”
Gone was the keep-quiet-don’t-talk. The tears kept rolling down your cheeks as Sandor stepped on your other side, holding you up a bit gentler than Clyde. Your baby started kicking on your side, and between the pain and desperation, you felt like throwing up and passing out.
Their chatter as they discussed what to do next was background noise. Certainly, they weren’t taking the arrow out that time, risk or no risk of being sealed inside and affecting the baby. You could barely stand up between your kidnappers and remember how to breath at the same time.
You wanted Azriel, that was the only thing you were certain. You shouldn’t have closed so late, you shouldn’t have gone to the bakery on your own, and you shouldn’t have gotten out of bed that morning. The baby agreed with you, answering each thought with a powerful kick to your kidneys and bladder.
You tried desperately to think about positive things, to keep yourself sane enough. Closing your eyes, you thought about him. His hazel eyes, that shone with a special light when he saw you between the crowd. His mouth, that curled up so lightly every time you stared at him. The freckles in his cheeks, that one that snuck up to the corner of his eye.
You could almost hear his voice reminding you to breath carefully and gain control of your body when the pregnancy pain hit, and you tried to do the same. Taking a deep breath through your mouth, holding it in. Letting it go through your nose.
“Oh, sure, because winnowing her again is the best solution, right?” Sandor scoffed loudly.
You moved your toes lightly, relieved to notice that despite the burning and overwhelming pain, you could still feel everything. From your feet to your head, you twitched every part of your body, finally able to breathe through the pain.
That didn’t mean you could move without them hauling you up, or that the baby was anymore happy.
“Enough! We’re moving now. Grab the things. We winnow – “ the anonymous man startled you, making you look up.
“I need to go the bathroom” you whispered, although it was heard as if you shouted it.
Three pair of eyes looked at you with raised brows, one pair certainly more annoyed than the other two. You didn’t know how far had it been since they took you, but it was still night time. During the last weeks, you had been paying a visit to your bathroom at least once every two hours.
And that was being generous.
The babe kicked again against your bladder, making your knees wobble. If you didn’t catch a bathroom, in a minute, you would have to let go.
“Sure. Do you want me run a bath too? Clyde, you could massage her feet. Is our lady tired of standing up for so long?”
“Nestor, she’s pregnant” Sandor was the only one looking slightly affected by your request. “My Lorren – “
“Your Lorren is home and we are here. Stop with Lorren!” Clyde let you go to push Sandor’s shoulders, which made you stumble back.
“I’m not carrying her if she’s gonna pee herself”
“She’s gonna be a big girl and hold it, right?” Nestor gave you a tense smile. “And you’re going to winnow her to the cabin”
“I’m not taking her to the cabin, man”
And while you stood up and waited for them to decided where to take you, you felt your bladder giving up. It wouldn’t be the first time you peed yourself, and with the strength your baby was kicking you right then, you were amazed that you managed to hold it for a few seconds.
Clyde and Nestor kept arguing loudly about the cabin, while Sandor just looked at you with a scrunched nose. You would have felt embarrassed, but you were in pain, you were scared and tired. It was hard to stay standing at any given moment with your belly. Whether it was the wings or the baby’s size, you were heavy.
The discomfort of the arrow was starting to become secondary. Even though you had just peed yourself, you still felt the kicks against your bladder – and almost against every part of your soul. You gripped the only thing available when another wave of kicks hit you, that being Sandor’s arm.
The man realized at the same time you did what was happening, although he didn’t have time to voice it out.
“Damn it!” Clyde barely missed the door coming out of its hinges. He didn’t miss the knife that embedded itself on his throat.
“Sandor, shoot him!” Nestor yelled to his friend, who was too busy keeping you off the ground now that the only support was holding his open neck. “Shoot!”
“Pathetic”
His voice was like a cold breeze in the summer, the feeling of his shadows helping you gently to stand up making your breath speed up once more.
Azriel appeared like a dark angel through the open door, his eyes not even leaving you as he stopped an arrow with his bare hand. His wings covered the moon behind him, but they didn’t stop the next figure coming through. Before Clyde hit the ground still chocking on his last breath, Rhysand had winnowed himself and Nestor out of the tavern.
You briefly wondered if death by Azriel’s hands right then would have been better than by the spymaster’s hands later.
Your mate said nothing as Sandor was ripped out of your side. Only by gripping his arm and pulling him away from you, you heard the awful crack of his arm breaking into two.
Sandor cried out, only getting a few seconds to acknowledge his arm before his left wing is ripped out of his back. Azriel’s shadows assessed your body with a sickening speed, coming to the same conclusion you had.
You were lowered softly onto the ground, silently watching what Azriel had always hidden from you. The unleveled part of him, the one that came out when someone he loved was in danger. He feared that part would take you away from him. But as you watched your mate tear Sandor to pieces, you only felt relief at his presence.
The male wasn’t done screaming for his life when he fell dead to the side. His mangled body was blocked from your view by training leathers and tearful hazel eyes. Everything he had felt during the last hours, that he had denied himself from so he would find you, crashed hard.
His scarred hands held your face while he scanned your body, stopping on your untouched belly and bleeding wound. He didn’t even flinch when he touched your soaked pants to pull it out.
The pain you were in in that moment prevented you from feeling anything more than a discomfort at the pull.
“You’re alive” Azriel cried out, not holding his tears back. “I thought – for a moment, I thought… I couldn’t feel you. And then I did, but you were gone. I didn’t know what had happened. I almost died, Y/N. You’re alive. You’re okay”
“Az” you whined, one of your hands gripping his shoulder harder than it was necessary.
“The baby’s bond… I followed it to the mountains. I know I shouldn’t, but I pulled it” he placed one hand on your belly, laughing tearfully when he felt a kick back. “I love you. I love you both so much”
There weren’t words to explain what Azriel had felt in the last few hours. How he had stumbled down into the snow when he had felt your end of the bond alive, how desperate he had been to follow it. Then, it had gone dark and if it wasn’t for Rhysand following him, he would have crashed right there.
He was glad his brother had been there, that he had taken a male away for questioning. Once you were safe and with Madja, he would make sure to take his time.
Azriel pressed a shaky, wet kiss to your forehead, then another one to your nose. He kissed each and every tear that had stained your cheeks in the past hour, finally pressing his lips against yours.
When he moved back, ready to winnow you both back to Velaris and hold you close for a week, he was surprised to see new tears running down your cheeks. What he thought was terror for the kidnapping, the anguish of your captors, hadn’t left your face.
“What’s wrong?” he frowned, leaving his own despair for later and looking back at your body.
“Az” you repeated.
You had realized what was happening before him, had known just before Sandor. His shadows couldn’t possibly understand what was happening, and so, Azriel didn’t. Any pain you had felt during that night paled away from the complete, absolute fear the crippled you as you stared at your mate in that dark tavern, where your worst memories had taken place.
“I’m here” he reminded you, his hand caressing the belly. “Where does it –“
“It’s coming” you finally admitted, watching the realization hitting him. “The baby’s coming”
It had felt like peeing yourself, like normal kicks, you guessed. What had given it away was crippling, motherly realization that your baby wanted out. That bond that had connected you to it was more present than ever, and somehow, you knew.
Azriel paled even more if that was possible. Right there, sitting in the dirty, bloodied and now empty tavern, your water had broken. You wanted to break down crying, because of course, given your history your baby would choose that moment.
When Azriel didn’t say anything, you lip wobbled again. Because, if he didn’t have the answers, who would?
“It’s coming” you said again, feeling like a broken record. “What do we do? What -?”
“I’ll winnow us to Velaris” Azriel interrupted you, knowing the answer before saying it.
“Madja said we can’t” you reminded him, although he already knew. “Oh God. Az, it’s coming. What do we do? I’m having a baby. I’m having a baby!”
Indeed, one of the first things Madja had advised you against was winnowing while pregnant. So close to the date, it would only trigger an early labor – and on the date, it would be dangerous to the baby and you. Rhysand would be back in Velaris by then, probably thinking you two were just fine and happy together once more.
And winnowing away to warn him and bring someone was out of the equation, since he wouldn’t be leaving you for a while now.
So Azriel gathered himself together and gave you a hesitant smile.
“We can do it” Azriel whispered, not sure of the truth behind his words.
“What?”
“I’m not leaving you. We’re here together, and we can do it. Madja told us what it’s like” Azriel tried to sound confident for you, for the both of you, but it came out as a question.
“We’re having a baby”
“We’re having a baby”
The first rays of sun entered through the empty space where the door was as you stared into his eyes. You could risk winnowing back and losing the baby and your life, or you could send away Azriel and hope he made it in time back with Madja or any other healer. Neither of those options felt like surviving to you, so you nodded at him and willed that tear to be the last one.
Azriel leaned in and kissed you softly. His lips were salty, from his tears or your own, and kind. While his shadows brushed every available part of your body, you let yourself forget about the closing wound, about the trembling of your knees and the pain in your belly.
Kissing him would always feel like the first time, like fireworks and Starfall. His nosed brushed your own and his tongue deepened the kiss. One of his hands cupped the back of your head, the hair there already covered in sweat. Even it was cold with the morning breeze, you were ready to get out of your body.
The kiss ended way too soon, just as another kick, or contraction, hit you harder than before. You sucked a breath and almost stumbled to the ground.
Azriel was quick to roll his sleeves up, lowering you until you were laying on the ground. Looking up at him, he gave you reassuring smile and hesitant nod.
“We’re having a baby” he squeezed your shoulder.
You tried to smile as another contraction hit and the first scream broke the silent morning.
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755 notes · View notes
highvern · 6 months
Text
Silk
Pairing: Kim Mingyu x fem!reader
Genre: smut, friends to lovers, established relationship
Warnings: weed mention, alcohol mention, moments of self-doubt/insecurity, oral (f. receiving), fingering, boyfriend Mingyu, making out, hickies, mentions of frat!svt, grinding, panty/pussy job, cumshot, first time together, mentions of previous partners, not seeing heaven pt II!
Length: ~4.3k
Note: another Drunk Goggles installment! this is probably gonna be the last one for a while tbh. im working on something new for my gamer boy husband wonwoo as we speak. "adamas et aurum" was written to balance the depravity that takes place.
MDNI! 18+ ONLY
read more here
Mingyu doesn’t recall the details of the first time he saw you naked. At least what your nude body actually looked like. He remembers it being at his frat’s mountain weekend junior year, that one of the other guys brought you as their date, and how Mingyu’s then girlfriend had broken up with him that morning when he came to pick her up to leave for the cabin. The second he arrived he holed up in his assigned room upstairs, listening as people arrived throughout the day from under the covers.
When he finally came down, he stumbled into an already out of hand game Truth or Dare thanks to Hoshi and his liberal drink pours. Everyone was laughing wildly, DK’s shirt was wrapped around his head, and Joshua looked like he had just taken a shower fully clothed.
“I dare you to go skinny dipping in the lake.”
Everyone knew about Jun’s crush on you so the dare just made Mingyu roll his eyes as he grabbed a beer and walked out onto the porch overlooking the water, hoping to drown his sorrows in the bottom of the bong he brought with him. 
You had never been one to back down, so it was no suprise Mingyu was watching you sprint down the steps towards the lake, discarded clothes fluttering to the ground behind you. He caught sight of your bare rear seconds before you hit the surface with a splash, and that was that.
All in all, Mingyu doesn’t remember much about it.
But the first time Mingyu sees you naked as the girl he’s dating, he’s tempted to grab his phone and document the occasion so he can relive the moment again and again. 
He hadn’t planned for anything to happen tonight beyond the nice dinner he treated you to followed by a stroll downtown. When he walked you to your door to kiss you goodnight, you invited him in. Mingyu thought it was because you didn’t want to end the night yet, happy to oblige you’re desire to prolong his company. 
You’d confessed to each other almost a month ago, and in that time Mingyu tried to be nothing less than a gentleman. Most of his behavior is ingrained in him already: holding open the car door for you, walking on the outside of the sidewalk, getting you the same small bouquet of wildflowers you love from Ms. Kwon every Saturday. All of it as easy as breathing due to his innate drive to care for those who mean the most to him.
Other less appropriate behavior, reserved for you and only you, fights tooth and nail to claw its way out of the most depraved parts of his mind.
The first time you made out, he barely stopped himself from flipping over to pin you against the couch and have his wicked way with you. When he felt you up in the back of his car at the drive in for the first time like a desperate teenager, he had to actually bite his tongue to keep from ripping your shirt off and exploring everything underneath. The few times you’ve sent him suggestive text messages, usually accompanied by a photo of you in the bath with the naughtiest bits covered by bubbles or a suggestive mirror selfie that highlighted your figure, Mingyu nearly cries when stopping himself from sending an even more suggestive response.
The issue isn’t that he thinks you’d dislike him doing those things, tempting him more and more with each passing day. But Mingyu’s worst fear at this point in your very new relationship is that you’ll think he only wants you for sex. Scared shitless that he’s misread the signals you’ve given him, confused innocent gestures as a go ahead to lust and crave. So his simple solution is to not do anything, provide nothing that can point even remotely in that direction. A perfectly PG relationship so you don’t misunderstand his interest.
To say it was a bomb to your self-esteem is an understatement. Mingyu is always the one to pull away first, the one to stop things when they verge on being more, before anything can go too far. Tonight you invited him in with the intention to ask him what his deal was. You know he’s not inexperienced; confirmed by several of your friends in college sharing details after spending a night in his bed. And it hardly seems that he’s regretting sharing his feelings with you; never missing an opportunity to inform you how beautiful he thinks you are or how much he likes spending time with you. The collection of good morning and good night texts littering your phones, each a precious reminder that you’re the first person he thinks of when he gets up and last before he goes to sleep. Down to his eagerness in planning dates, making reservations or buying tickets the second he knows your calendar is clear, effort oozing from his pores. You don’t know any guy that would try even half as much as Mingyu does if they weren’t interested.
There didn't seem to be any hardware issues on his end either. The first time you made out on your couch, the tantalizing feel of his hard cock against your bottom told you he was at least attracted to you. You just don’t get why he doesn’t seem to want to touch you the same way you yearn to touch him.
Tonight starts like it always does. Sitting a little bit too close on the couch, Mingyu’s hand finding your thigh, your own playing with his fingers as you discuss this and that. He tells you how Wonwoo finally got the courage to ask out his coworker he had a crush on. You update him on the work drama with your manager.
Eventually, someone shuffles closer, eyes meet, a head tilts, and all of a sudden your tongue grazes his as he coaxes you into his lap.
Testing the waters, you gently rock your hips against his as you nip his earlobe, releasing a stifled gasp when he rise to meet you. Embolden by his response, your fingertips skate up his chest as you arch further into him, lips searching for his.
“We should—mhm— slow down.” Mingyu pants into your mouth, making no effort to remove himself from you despite his words.
“But I want you.” You gasp as the next buck of his hips has the rough fabric of his jeans grinding against your barely covered pussy as your short dress rucks up higher and higher on your hips.
Dropping to Mingyu’s neck, you hope the rake of your teeth on his jaw will convince him to touch you the way you desperately need.
Your right hand is twisted through his hair, sending chills down his neck when your nails scratch his scalp. The other covers his as you place it on your breast, arching your chest and urging him to give it a gentle squeeze.
“Fuck,” Mingyu groans, eyes trained on the way you fill his palm perfectly.
His next squeeze is answered with another moan. Mingyu knows it’ll burn his ears next time he’s alone in his room.
“Wait.” He breaths.
Mingyu’s tone tells you he’s serious. Still in his lap, you lean back to look down at his face.
His eyes are closed and long breath leaves his nose before he mutters, “We should stop.”
“Oh.” You exclaim shakily.
You try to not let the hurt that arises bleed into your voice but it’s impossible. 
Crawling out of his space, you sit back on the cushion next to Mingyu, putting a foot of distance between you. You focus on anything else besides the man beside you, training your eyes on how your fingers pick at the hem of your dress. The silence between you two is uncomfortable in a way it's never been before.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine.”
“Obviously it's not fine.”
“I guess I’m just,” you pause searching for the best way to explain yourself, still unable to look at him. “confused? Everytime we start, you know, you stop. Am I making you uncomfortable? Do you not want to?”
“No!” He winces, shocked by the booming volume of his own voice. “No, I just— I don’t want to make you do anything you don’t want to.”
Finally looking at him, you ask, “What part of putting your hand on my boobs makes you think I don’t want you to do it?”
“I,” Mingyu responds, hand dragging down his face. “I don’t wanna mess this up and push you too far o—”
“Mingyu, stop it!” You snap, annoyed with his self sacrificing. “You're not gonna mess anything up by touching me. I thought I made it pretty obvious I want you to.”
“You do?”
“Of course I do.” You try to reel in your irritation but it's impossible.
“Why are you mad?”
“Because you’re acting like I can’t make my own decisions.”
“That’s not what I–”
You jump up from the couch to stand in front of him, arms flailing as you grunt in frustration.
“Yes, it is!” 
“I’m just trying to be a gentleman!”
“Well stop!”
“Fine!” he shouts, matching your own exasperation.
Mingyu throws you over his shoulder in a second, long legs carrying him towards your room. He’ll be damned if the first time he touches you, really touches you, is on the cramped lumpy couch in your living room. 
“Put me down!” you yell, fist pounding at his back and kicking your legs in an attempt to get free.
A gentle slap on your ass has your breath stalling. It’s not enough to hurt, barely a brush of his hand but it has your mind reeling all the same.
“Be good.” Mingyu orders, voice rough as gravel.
Oh, wow.
“And if I’m not?”
His steps falter before he continues down the hall, “Haven’t thought that far ahead yet.”
Well at least he hasn’t been completely possessed. 
He gently sets you down on the foot of your bed, stepping back to stand in front of you with his hands on his hips which cocks to the side. You almost laugh at the way he looks like a mom about to scold her kid. 
“I’m not gonna fuck you tonight.” He states simply.
“Why not?” You protest.
Shame rises in your throat like bile when Mingyu hesitates.
“I wanna take things slow.”
“Oh…okay, that's okay.” You reassure him, reach to take one of his hands in yours. “We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to.”
“I do want to touch you. But we’re not having sex tonight.”
“That’s okay too.”  You can’t hide the way your breath stutters, flashes of his hand between your legs clouding your mind.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” you nod. “whatever you want.”
“Can I take your dress off?”
“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.” You tease, smiling mischievously up at him.
Mingyu's own mouth twists as he snags the neck of his shirt, subconsciously flexing the muscles along his arms and stomach enticingly as it rises over his frame. If anyone asks, he’d deny doing it on purpose but the way your eyes scorch across his skin makes him tense just a little bit more. His vision is blacked out by the fabric as it comes over his head, but when it's gone he sees heaven.
The lilac sundress you’d worn to dinner is gone, leaving your hair ruffled from its hasty removal, fluffed around your face enticingly. But it's what was under your dress that has Mingyu’s tongue on the verge of rolling out of his mouth and heart beating like a cartoon character. Your chest is wrapped in a silky pink bra, swells of flesh threatening to spill over the cups with each breath that stretches your lungs, stiff nipples poking through the edge of the fabric. The alluring pull of a matching pair of panties across your hips, accentuating your curves in the best ways, makes his cock twitch; but when you spread your legs, unveiling a tantalizing damp spot, nearly translucent where it clings to your folds teasingly, floods each of his senses with a specific type of hunger.
Fuck.
“Pants too.” You demand, but quickly correct yourself. “If that's okay.” 
You stare at one another for a beat. The clank of Mingyu’s belt being undone is the only sound beyond the duet of shaky breaths. His eyes don’t leave your face as he bares himself down to his briefs, but yours skim down his body, blazing as they trail across his form, to settle on the obvious bulge behind the cotton. When you swallow harshly, Mingyu’s ego flares.
“Come here.” You beckon.
Complying easily, Mingyu covers your body with his; arms caging you in below him as your thighs spread to cradle his hips. He settles on top of you, length nestled snugly between your folds, tip nudging your mound with each breath. It's maddening. Especially when Mingyu can feel your arousal seeping through his underwear and coating the underside of his cock.
Your noses brush gently, fleeting passes of lips as you settle against one another. You’ve only ever briefly felt Mingyu through thick layers of clothing, whether that when you wiggle your way in his lap or the few times you’ve woken up with his length pressed snugly against your ass. It gave you an idea of his size but in no way prepared you for the feel of him now, rigid as steel against your soaking center and threatening to burn you from the inside out. 
“Oh wow,” you gasp into his mouth, relishing in the slow curl of his hips against you.
“I know,” he nods, mind lost in the sweltering heat between your legs threatening to consume him.
You continue to writhe against one another, mouths meeting in rough passes of teeth and tongues. Your ankles lock at the base of his spine, pulling him firmly against you as your hands flutter across his skin, unable to stay in one place for long. Mingyu’s arm propped above you keeps his weight from crushing you, his other settles on the side of your neck, thumb tilting your chin up so his tongue can delve into your mouth. 
A particularly delicious grind of his hips has your head thrown back, moan aimed at the ceiling as you thrash pathetically. It lets Mingyu look at you. Cheeks and chest glowing with a rosy tint, a faint sheen of sweat blooming across your skin as you whine in his hold. The straps of your bra have fallen down your arms, one nipple peeking out from under the fabric, taunting him. 
The harsh suck of his mouth across your breast pulls your back tight like a bowstring. His tongue worships your chest, laving broad strokes you imagine will feel amazing on other parts of your body. He's everywhere, consuming you like a blackhole, ripping apart your entire being and leaving you disoriented. Head tipped back, you bare as much of yourself as possible for Mingyu to touch and tease; all while your abdomen tenses as your lower half cants against his.
Arching just enough to give you room to reach around, you snag the clasp of your bra relieved that the underwire is no longer digging into your chest uncomfortably. Your arms raise to pull it off, leaving you bare from the waist up for Mingyu to admire. 
“Like what you see?” You whisper, relishing in the shell shocked expression on Mingyu’s features.
He can only nod, gaze burning a hole through your chest straight to your heart.
One of his hands cup your chest gently, taking time to let the weight of the swollen flesh settle in his palm. He thumbs the stiff peak, still glossed with his spit from his earlier ministrations. Mingyu puckers his lip to blow a cool stream of air, delighting in the choke whine you release.
“Can I touch you too?”
“Please.” he moans, diving to leave a bruise on the side of your breast.
A depraved idea enters your head, whispering from the most primal parts of your mind. Mingyu said he’s not going to fuck you and you respect that wholeheartedly; the idea of waiting warming your soul. But you want to feel as much of him as possible; revel in the slide of his scorching length against you, deliver the long overdue pleasure you both want. 
“If you don’t like it we can stop.”
“Okay.”
Mingyu doesn't inform you that he doubts he'll dislike anything you do to him. Instead, he stares at your hand pushing his underwear down, fingers circling his cock in awe as you touch him for the first time. His body is miles away from his brain, like he’s drowning under crashing waves and you’re the sun he can see on the surface. Your thumb smears the beads of pre-cum collected at his tip, twisting your tight grip around the head to work him up. Sweat breaks out on his forehead, muscles in his arms jumping at the feeling of your smooth palm. He knows the image of your hand wrapped around his cock is branded in his mind forever. 
But then you do something he doesn’t expect. Your free hand grabs your underwear, moving the crotch to the side and uncovering your slit entirely. The flesh that peeks out from the outer folds is flushed a delicious pink, glistening in the low light with the evidence of your desire. When you hook the bulbous head of his cock under the hem he panics for a second, afraid you’re going to slip him inside. But you just wiggle you hips till he nudges your engorged clit, skin on skin with no barrier. Letting go of the fabric, Mingyu thinks he might be drooling when his cock is covered by soaked silk, sandwiching him against you. The erotic sight kills any coherent thoughts he has left.
“You’re —,” Mingyu starts, tongue heavy in his mouth. “What the fuck—”
He can’t stop watching how his cock moves, able to discern the nearly purple head of his length through the see-through silk that clings to his weeping tip. Your hand rests on your mound over your panties, pointer and middle finger forming a V to border the flared head on either side, giving him a bumper to grind against and forcing him a fraction harder against you.
“Move.” you beg, voice just as wrecked as his. “Please, Gyu.”
Who is he to deny you any longer?
Arms straining as he holds himself up, Mingyu keeps his gaze trained on where you're connected, entranced. Below him, you’re twisting in the sheets, twitching with each prod against your clit but your hand keeps him from slipping away.
Flashes of how from any other angle it looks like he’s drilling you into the bed, stuffing you with his cock rather than rutting against you pathetically, enter his mind. The firm pressure of your knees against his sides, ankles brushing his waist with each roll of his hips barely register in his conscious. Free hand scratching against his chest, your nails raise red lines and dimple his flesh with tiny crescents as he pummels your clit, slick with a mixture of his spunk and your own arousal. Needy whimpers singing into his ears are answered with his own groans, tempting him to shut his eyes and just feel if not for the vision below him.
The realization that he can feel you clench pitifully where his balls press against you, teasing him to just angle his hips a little bit lower and take you like he desperately wants has him surging against you even harder.
The sudden rush of stimulation overwhelms you, forcing your mind to shut down. It's all too much. The feeling of Mingyu above you, using your pussy to get off, fogs your brain. The crude rhythmic squelch where you meet sends shooting stars across the corners of your eyes. How his cock presses against your clit just so, dribbles of his pre-cum coating your most sensitive parts. The harsh squeezes of his hand on your breast, pinching the stiff peek of your nipple while his teeth nip your neck you feel like you might pass out.
“Mingyu!” You keen, chest pressing against his, allowing you both to revel in the drag of your skin on his.
The broken sound of his name on your lips skyrockets Mingyu to his end. Euphoria exploding in his chest, pleasure running from his balls to the tip of his cock as he loses all control of his body. His chest caves and breath stops as he jerks in your hold, rutting against you as his seed pushes through the ruined fabric of your underwear, collecting in globs above where his tip rests right on your clit; you’re fingers still pressing down on your underwear glossed in the overflowing pool of pearly fluid. Mingyu leans up as far as he can to watch, wishing to live this moment again and again. 
“Fuck, fuck!” He chants horsly, unable stop his own hips, even when the friction becomes tortious.
With one last pass he finally calms, muscles spasming as he collapses onto your chest.
The heavy weight pressing you into the bed makes you shudder below, another rush of wetness escaping.
“Good?”
Mingyu just groans into your shoulder, attempting to catch his breath.
“You’re crazy.”
You give an indignant huff, jaw clenching in mock annoyance.
“Don’t act like you don’t know.”
“Yeah well you clearly liked it!”
“My beautiful girlfriend just let me get off using her panties that she’s wearing. I’d be insane if I didn’t.”
“Girlfriend?” 
Suddenly, you're breathless for an entirely new reason.
“If that’s okay with you.” Mingyu mumbles, comically shy as if he didn’t just cum on you.
“That’s definitely okay with me.” 
“Good.”
“Now, how about you make your girlfriend come too?”
Mingyu nearly falls off the bed in his haste to do just that. Throwing your legs wide, he bullies his way between your thighs to gape at the mess of your panties. Nothing he’s ever seen in his life can compare. Something he doesn’t think even the most debased part of his brain could have imagined but you’ve given him knowledge of a kink he didn’t even know he had. Mingyu just stares, damning his refractory period; ruining the carnal desire to cover you in his seed again and again, until the possessive part of his brain is sated and you’re both on the verge of unconsciousness.
“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” You chide above, impatience reading its head.
“Don’t play with me right now.”
You don’t want to overwhelm him more than you have so you bite your tongue against the urge to tell him you're serious. Maybe next time you’ll let him know how much the idea of him walking around with such a salacious image on his phone turns you on.
“Then touch me, Gyu.”
As pretty as you are covered in silk soaked with his cum, Mingyu knows you’re even more beautiful without the scrap of fabric. Taking a second to rub the puddle of fluids back into the fabric, you twitch as the pad of his finger massages your sensitive clit. When your hips pitch forward to seek more friction, he nearly rips your underwear with his clumsy hands in his haste to free you from them. At the sight of your bare slit, Mingyu pauses. The number of choices he’s presented with nearly drowns him; whether to taste or tease, stuff your clenching hole with his fingers or lick you from top to bottom, maybe make you show him what you like before trying it himself.
But first, Mingyu needs a better look at what he’s working with.
“Hold your legs open, baby.”
Before he can blink, your hands eagerly hook under your knees to spread yourself wide, void a timidity as you reveal yourself; unveiling every hill and valley, soft flesh dappled with pearls of his cum. Desire rushes Mingyu forward to collect the mess with his tongue, a throaty groan clawing its way out of his chest at the combination of fluids.
“Taste so fucking good,” he rasps. “You’re so hot.”
Lightening erupts in your veins under the languid heat of his tongue, every muscle twitching as he delivers maddening swirls through your folds. The fact that Mingyu is tasting the lasting traces of himself as he eats you out is like a punch to the gut. Broad strokes against your clit distract you from his hand sneaking up to circle your opening before a thick finger enters you. 
But the stretch isn’t nearly enough for how wrecked you feel, already teetering on the edge.
“More!” 
The hand you’ve ghosted down your front is pinned to the bed before you can even make it below your belly button.
“You’re gonna take what I give you.” He informs you, but gives you another finger all the same.
When a needy moan tickles his ears, Mingyu knows you’re waving a white flag, a wordless plea for him to continue playing with you as he pleases.
Fingers pistoning, Mingyu’s pointed tongue circles the bundle of nerves at the top of your slit. When he crooks the digits buried deep inside you, your back leaves the bed. The hand pinning your wrist abandons its grip, allowing him to use his fingers to spread your folds and keep your clit uncovered for his tongue to lash at.
“Don’t stop,” you cry, voice thick and broken. “Please, I’m so close.”
Both of your hands find the soft strands of his hair to hold him in place. Your feet plant on the bed beside his wide shoulders, allowing you to hump his face pathetically as the drenched squelch of Mingyu’s mouth against you fills your ears.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,”
Your finish is bubbling to the surface, a roaring boil in your blood that deafens all your senses except where your boyfriend plays with you. Mingyu’s arm stretches up your torso to palm your breast, fingers pulling your taunt nipple. He’s pulling out all the stops, trying his hardest to send you over the edge.
“Come on, pretty girl. Let me make you come.” he begs around your clit.
“Please!” you sob. “Please, please, please!”
You’re in a frenzy above him, ecstasy inches away. Your hips bucking is so hard they threaten to dislodge him but Mingyu takes it in stride. Elbowing your thighs apart, forcing them up and open to pin you in place so he can keep going. It tickles a part in your brain that imagines what he’ll do when he does fuck you for the first time, spreading you out before making you take his cock. 
The visual paired with stretch from a third finger sets you free.
“I’m—Mingyu! Oh my god!”
The simmer in your blood boils over, starting at your core and rushing to your toes and fingertips. Wrecked moans leave your bruised lips, eyes squeezed against the licks of pleasure overwhelming you. The only thing you can hear is the rush of blood in your ears as every muscle in your quivers so hard tears gather in your eyes. He doesn’t stop as you twitch in his hold, arms flexing as he strains to keep you spread so he can work you through it. You clench so hard around his fingers his arm halts before putting in more effort to pummeling your pussy. When you cry at the overstimulation he finally relents, delivering a last long lick along your slit before moving away.
Mingyu’s face is soaked, chin and cheeks covered in your juices, nose and cheeks flushed. You just stare, mouth open in wonder as he sucks his fingers clean.
“Holy shit.”
“You okay?”
“Shhhhh.” You press a finger to his pursed lips. “Brain goo, hot boyfriend just made me cum.”
Mingyu crawls up your body, peppering gentle kisses here and there as he goes. When you're face to face you just stare at each other, expressions full of fondness and exhaustion.
“But seriously, where the fuck did you learn that?”
Mingyu’s question is answered with a maniacal giggle.
681 notes · View notes
azulpitlane · 5 months
Note
got love stuck part 3 please i’m begging it’s so good i need it
out of the woods I ln4
pairing: lando norris x reader, exbf! mason mount x reader summary: in which lando has to communicate his insecurities but is he too late? notes: ask and you shall receive, this one took a while cause I had it all written out then I hated it and started over😇but this is the last part!! i loved making this thank u for being so supportive considering part one was my first ever post!! now send some requests hehe part one, part two, masterlist
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lando i fucked up, its too late
danny ric what do you mean its too late?
lando i texted her and no response she went to dinner with mason tonight they're probably still together right now
danny ric okay so you're jumping into conclusions AGAIN you have to have some faith in her mate and stop assuming the worst
lando she was with her ex after our breakup what am I suppose to do?
danny ric communicate, you muppet you can't just give up after one try
lando okay okay you're right, i was overthinking im booking the next flight to london
danny ric um i was thinking maybe a phone call?
lando too late, already booked it
dailymail
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102,339 likes
dailymail Trouble in paradise? Singer Y/n Y/l/n and F1 driver Lando Norris reunited in London today. Onlookers claim the two were having a heated conversation about their relationship and it is unclear whether the two are currently together or not. Was this argument result of Y/l/n's infidelity? The singer was spotted twice within this month with ex boyfriend, Mason Mount. Read more on the singer's relationship timeline with Mount and Norris in our article linked in the bio.
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user yes lets just make assumptions that y/n is a cheater based on nothing🙄
user if lando took her back ill be so mad. shes so toxic
user you have no idea what shes like in real life? you're just basing your opinion on some stupid tabloid that constantly spreads misinformation on her
user WAR IS OVER (THEYRE STILL TOGETHER IDC WHAT ANYONE SAYS).
user YUP Y/N AND LANDO DEFENDER TIL I DIE user SAME IM CONVINCED SHE NEVER CHEATED IDC IDC
user this doesn't even look like a heated argument to me?? y'all be doing too much
user please let this be just a friendly conversation and her and mason got back together☹️
user its been a year, I think its time to move on from that relationship user yup!! shes clearly moved on y'all need to do it too user her relationship with lando has been messy from the start, she never had to deal with this drama with mason that's all im sayin
user this page is obsessed with y/n!! leave my girl aloneeee
yourusername
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liked by landonorris, masonmount and 5,283,239 others
yourusername out of the woods out now.
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selenagomez on repeat already💙 liked by yourusername
user WAIT WHOS THE GUY IN THE LAST SLIDE
user HAS TO BE LANDO user praying its mase but I have a feeling its lando☹️
user the way these lyrics can apply to both mason or lando so we have no clue who its about🧍‍♀️
user and they both liked aghhhh!!!!
danielricciardo amazing song, so so proud liked by yourusername
francisca.cgomes can't stop listening im obsessed😍 liked by yourusername
user okay danny and the wags are all commenting this is a good sign for us lando and y/n defenders
alexandrasaintmleux you're so talented I love it!! liked by yourusername
user y/n dropping this after being seen with lando again, I think its time for us mason defenders to retire :(
landonorris
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liked by danielricciardo, yourusername and 920,482 others
landonorris want you for worse or for better, would wait forever and ever tagged yourusername
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user YES WE CAN FINALLY SAY WAR IS OVER
user I KNEW IT YES
yourusername and that's how it works💙
user these are definitely song lyrics AHHHH user landos listened to the new album omfsgnks user new album is gonna be mix of love and breakup songs with the drama methinks
user MOM AND DAD ARE DONE FIGHTING
maxfewtrell sap
user careful lando, once a cheater always a cheater
user where is the proof of her cheating?? there literally is none user they literally broke up after she was seen with mason user give up this narrative already!! her and lando are clearly happy together so who cares
yourusername
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liked by landonorris, carlossainz55 and 7,284,234 others
yourusername these past few weeks have felt like a crazy, emotional train wreck but there's nobody else I would've rather done it with than my best friend and lover💙 i usually never address anything like this but there are somethings that aren't easy to shake off especially when it comes to my relationship and my loyalty being questioned. there has never been somebody who has been so perfect for me and i would never trade this love for anybody elses. i could go on and on about it but i find it easier to communicate through music.
my new album is out tonight at midnight, it is a collection of songs written from last year to now. interpret the songs as you like but just know there is only one person im in love with right now.
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user OMFG WEVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS
user she just nicely told all mason x y/n supporters to stfu
user not only that but she beat the cheater allegations🙏
user THIS IS SO CUTE WHAT
user "would never trade this love for anybody elses" IMCRYIN
landonorris love you so so much, dont know what I would do without you
yourusername lan love u more🥹 user AWWW user nobody can be a mason x y/n fan after this cause they are too cute
landonorris this album is amazing, im so incredibly proud of you and everything you've been through liked by yourusername
carlossainz55 very excited for this one liked by yourusername
masonmount this was very well said, congrats on the new album!! liked by yourusername
user OMG? user in their besties era omdfsnkln user I knew they were just friends through all this!!!
user okay officially retiring the mason x y/n agenda..it was a good run
user def the end of an era but our girl is happy🫶
user now that the drama is over can we focus on how good this album is gonna be
user fr the drought is officially over
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yourusername
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liked by landonorris, yourbff and 3,232,325 others
yourusername the love for my new album has been insane, thank you guys so much!! so many records broken just on the first day of the release and i couldn't have done it without you guys💙
now it is time to hibernate for a little bit and spend some much needed time off with my loved ones so this is a lil goodbye... for now!
see ya later
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user NO COME BACK
user gave us some lando content before dipping, thank u mother
user she took 'I know places we won't be found' to a whole different level because nobody can find out where theyre vacationing
user good!! they need some privacy after this messy drama
landonorris got you all to myself now
maxfewtrell gross yourusername perv
kellypiquet ❤️‍🩹 liked by yourusername
user but will we see you at the paddock next season🥹
yourusername ofc!! catch me rooting for my babyyy
user what a crazy era. hopefully well get some performances and lando supporting after this break
landonorris will be front row at every show user wag and rockstar's bf. try not to say parents challenge omg user can't wait for the content of them supporting each other at races and concerts ahhh
yourbff pls dont make me an auntie soon im too young
yourusername okay im officially logging off.
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tags: @jayrami3 @whoselly @roseseraj @saturnbloom77@landowecanbewc
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d0youc0py · 11 months
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You had spent the night in your car. You hoped by now he had sobered up. Hell, he was probably still asleep. The sun was rising, not that you enjoyed its pale blue color. Your eyes throbbed. You had barely slept, and while you were awake you did nothing but cry.
You turned your car on.
You didn’t want to go back. He could still be drinking. He could be passed out in the living room. He could be out looking for you. He could not care at all. You didn’t believe that last one. You knew without a doubt Simon loved you more than anything. Last night was the first time he’d ever shown you something different. You hoped he was worried. Pacing the floor. Wondering what the hell he did last night. Buckling your seatbelt you headed back to your shared flat, with no clue what was in store for you- but you knew one thing: he was going to have to work hard to make it up to you.
•••••••••••••••••
You had barely opened the door before he was on you. His knees hitting the ground with a loud thump, two powerful arms gripping your waist. His hands clawed at the back of your shirt, pressing you suffocatingly close to him.
Your exterior was already faltering. You stopped your hands from digging in his hair, telling him you forgave him- but yell at him to never do it again. He was mumbling into your stomach. You maneuvered the both of you so you could get the door shut.
“Simon?” You questioned slowly. You couldn’t understand a word, or see his face. Your shirt began to feel wet. His whole body was quivering as he dug himself closer to you. He pulled his mouth away from your stomach, but you were still only able to catch every other word. You sighed and cupped his face in your hands forcing him to look at you.
You winced as a sharp pain stabbed you right in the heart.
He looked worse than you’d hope. You thought you’d take a little joy from it- seeing him feel bad. You were wrong.
His molten eyes were bright red and swollen. His pale face covered in red splotches from crying. He had rubbed his jaw completely raw, something he did when he was upset. You wiped a tear away from his eyes. They instantly closed craving any scrap of comfort you wanted to give him.
“Where’d you go?” You murmured, craning your neck down closer to him. He furrowed his brows at your question. He’d been here, getting shitfaced. Then it dawned on him. You meant Simon. After a year of dating he opened up to you a little more about his “alter ego”- Ghost. When Simon had been acting the way he was a part of you wondered if maybe you had been dealing with Ghost.
“You know I can’t tell you.” He choked.
“It had to be pretty bad for you to come home and treat me the way you did though.” You tried your best to keep your tone cold. He whimpered, but nodded his head agreeing with you. “Treating me like I didn’t even exist- then having the audacity to get drunk and yell at me. Do you know how scary that was for me? How would you like a 6’4, two hundred and fifty pound man- in an obviously bad headspace, drunk, yelling at you? You scared me Simon Riley and I don’t know how long it will take for me to trust you again.” You felt lighter getting that off your chest. The weight was quickly replaced by Simon curling himself around you. His sobs shook your whole body, and you fought against gravity to stay upright. You lost that battle, your body tumbling into his lap. He made quickly work of tangling both of you together, resting his cheek against the top of your head.
This was the most excruciating experience of his life. He didn’t sleep last night either, even in his drunken state he knew he’d messed up. After you left he stumbled off the couch and grabbed a few pieces of bread and shoved them down his throat. He grabbed any item containing alcohol and dumped it down the drain, throwing it straight in the trash. He tried calling you, you had left your phone on the counter. This was his worst nightmare. He had acted like his father.
He pleaded for your forgiveness against your head. He didn’t know how to make it better. All he could do was hope that you saw how truly sorry he was. How his heart was twisting so painfully in his chest that he’d had a grimace on his face for the past six hours. “How can I fix it.” He murmured. His sobs had calmed down after you caved and started rubbing his back.
“I don’t know Si.” You mumbled. His grip on you tightened. “I think you should figure that out.”
He did figure it out. It took about a month for the two of you to get back to normal. He made a point to never drink while he was home- only drinking one or two drinks after a mission if he really needed it. In the future when you two fought he made sure to control his volume and temper- stepping away from the argument if he felt he was going to scare you. More importantly though he started to see a therapist and became much more open with you about his life before you. He will always put in the work for you.
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You could barely hear your name being shouted over the heartbeat in your ears. It wasn’t until a hand wrapped around your arm did you become aware of your surroundings.
“Fuck off.” You shouted tugging your arm away from Johnny.
“Bonnie please.” He begged, pulling you back towards him. He felt sick to him stomach. Your terrified voice ringing in his ears as he pressed the accelerator. The fat tears rolling down your cheeks, your chest heaving up and down. He’s had more than enough panic attacks to know one when he sees one. You gripped the wall for support your other hand pushing roughly at his chest. His heart clenched as he realized you wanted absolutely nothing to do with him. “Bonnie.” He tried again. Your breathing was so ragged he was surprised you were still conscious. “Sit down with me, please.” His voice was so soft, like he was trying to not scare off a deer. He sunk down slowly, his hands pulling you down with him. You put your legs between the two of you, resting your heated head on the cold brick of the building. You grabbed his wrists and threw his hands off of you.
He couldn’t hold back a tear any longer, his throat constricting so tight he knew it would be sore tomorrow. He quickly wiped it away. He didn’t deserve to feel sorry for himself. He’d put you- the most precious thing in his life- in danger. He deserved whatever punishment you had in mind for him.
You began to feel lightheaded. You shut your eyes, focusing hard on calming your breathing down. People walked past you- assuming the two of you had gotten a little too plastered.
“How could you do that to me.” You whispered finally. You opened your eyes and took in the sight of him. He was trying his hardest not to break down. The veins in his neck becoming more prominent.
“I was mad. You laughed at that bastards joke and it hurt me. If someone was poking fun at you I wouldn’t laugh along with them.” He tried to reason.
“So you thought almost killing us was the right way to go about it?” You snapped. Another tear fell from his eye. Usually the sight would absolutely break you, but you were so mad at him you hardly noticed it.
He didn’t know how to respond.
“We wouldn’t have died.” He assured. He had no way of knowing that and the crack in his voice made it obvious he knew that too.“I’m sorry, Bonnie.” He rose his head to look at you. He shivered as you looked at him with cold eyes.
“You wanted to scare me Johnny. You wanted to get back at me for making you feel bad. I’m sorry I laughed at his jokes- I’ll admit that wasn’t a kind thing to do. It sure as hell doesn’t excuse what you did though. How am I ever suppose to trust you again?” This was the man you wanted to spend the rest of your life with. Now you were wondering if his impulse would kill you one day.
“Let me make it up to you.” He said quickly. “All I ask for is one more chance. I’ll do anything for you, sweetheart and I know it doesn’t feel like it right now but you’re the most important thing to me. Please let me fix this.” He pleaded to you. The sincerity so evident in his eyes chipped at your cold heart. You stared at him for a long moment waiting for any falter. To see if this was just some facade. As the silence grew his gaze became more panicked- more heartbroken.
“One more chance Johnny.” You agreed. You could feel the weight of worry leaving his body. He was about to throw his arms around you but stopped himself.
“I’ll make it up to you, Sweetheart. I promise.” He swore. He did in fact, keep his promise. He never let his temper get the best of him again and completely changed his communication style, making sure he was always open and honest with you about the way he was feeling.
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If you asked anyone what Captain John Price was most proud of in his whole life, they knew without a doubt his answer would have something to do with you. He took such pride in you and his relationship with you. He lived off of the way you looked at him. The way he was able to keep that lovestruck glint in your eye no matter how long the two of you had been together. He reveled in the feelings he got when someone asked him how he was able to keep someone like you so infatuated with him. He couldn’t help but puff his chest when someone came to him for relationship advice, because there was one thing no one could ever deny:
John Price was a fantastic Husband.
He was a fantastic husband.
That night changed everything. He took the easy way out. Leaving an ‘I’m sorry’ note on the fridge before he left for three months. The first week he was away he had the chance to call you. Pour his heart out, beg you for forgiveness. Remind you how much he loves you. How he would kill and be killed for you in a heartbeat. Yet he just stood there. Staring at the small burner phone in his shaking palm.
He hated himself enough for the both of you.
Everyone quickly noticed the shift. The always present loveglow he had was completely gone. He was a ghostly color- besides the red the that never left his eyes. He was completely dead. Only speaking to bark something out. They didn’t know the pain he was in. His heart constantly constricting in his chest. He wasn’t able to sleep because all he could think about was the sobs that left your body that night. He could hear them all the way from the living room. The look of complete and utter heartbreak as you watch the love of your life beat you down with words. He had shattered your world completely. He knew the comfort you found in him. He was a natural protector and he scared you more than anyone ever had. It was the most torturous experience of his life. Yet all he did was sit there and let silent tears roll down his face.
He hated himself enough for the both of you.
He had become a menace on the field. If anyone had forget why the man was Captain- they had sure been reminded. Talks of a promotion lingered in the air but he could care less. He wasn’t John Price anymore.
Hence why no one argued with him when he demanded to be taken back to you. He had been shot. Three times. He stayed still enough to receive some treatment, but he couldn’t be away from you. Not now. He couldn’t die thinking you hated him. He couldn’t have shame be the last emotion he felt for you. He couldn’t have his name written proudly on a tombstone, because if you didn’t want his last name anymore- he didn’t want it either.
He managed to convince one of the new rookies to fly him to home base. He jumped into his truck and sped as fast as he could to you.
A familiar pair of headlights shining into the bedroom window woke you up.
It couldn’t be. He had only been gone for a little more than six weeks. The front door opened, followed by your name being shouted. You tore off the covers. The sight of him alone was enough to make you sob.
“John.” You whimpered. He tugged you against him. Your mind was spinning. He was here, covered head to toe in blood, sweat, and tears, pressing quick hard kisses anywhere he could reach.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He repeated over and over against your skin. He knew he would have to work hard to get back to where you two were. To get that same lovestruck glint back in your eye. He could do it. The way you pressed yourself closer to him gave him some hope. Hope that he could one day, become a fantastic husband again.
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“Can we talk.” You we’re just about to fall asleep when the words struck through the air. You rubbed your sore eyes nodding. The living room light flickered on and you sat up. You decided it was best for you to sleep on the couch tonight. Give each of you time to think and cool down. Looks like Konig was done. The couch squeaked uncomfortably at the newly added weight. “I did some research and I realized that the way I acted towards you wasn’t normal.” He said softly. His eyes met yours and all doubt slipped from your mind. He knew it wasn’t right. And he was sorry.
To Konig the world was very black and white. You either fought or took flight- he was choosing to fight. He knew he needed to change. He would die if you ended up resenting him. He was going to fight for this relationship by changing the way his brain worked- and he prayed that you didn’t already choose flight.
You scooted closer to him, your hand resting on his shoulder. You could feel his tense muscles relax under your touch. He leaned into you. Before you knew it you were both laying on the couch, your body nuzzled into his wide chest.
“I’m sorry I acted like that, Schatz.” He ran a huge Hand up and down your back. “I’m still so new to this. I just want you all to myself.”
“I know Konnie.” You smiled, pressing a kiss against his lips. “There are times I want you all to myself too. It’s natural to want to be close to what you love. Just try to remember I love you more than anything.” His face flushed and you snickered at the wide smile spread across his face. “I’m sorry for what I said too, Konnie. That was uncalled for.”
“No you’re right. Its true I’m not the most popular person, but I’m happy with my friends at work and of course you. I don’t really need anything else.” He sighed. “Does this mean you’ll come to bed now?” He questioned. You nodded your head rapidly, already feeling a crick in your neck.
Part one here
I just want to thank everyone for the support on this little mini series! Some of you had asked for alternative endings and I’ll have those out soon! Thank you for your patience!
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invisiblestringmm · 1 year
Text
chapter one
secrets i have held in my heart are harder to hide than i thought
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pairing: fem!reader x mason mount
summary: A one night fling that turned into the reason of your whole life, then a month of falling in love with him… until he ghosted you. Mason was never there to watch her grow, completely unaware of his daughter’s existence. It was just you and Lilian Maisie against the world until fate decided play with you and change that — now you have to face the consequences of your decision to keep him out of her life for almost five years. And also try not to fall for him again when he reveals to be the best dad to your little girl.
author: I hope you enjoy this as much as I do. Thank you for sticking around, it means a lot!
warnings: this chapter contains fluff, angst, mentions of a tough pregnancy, language.
word count: 4.879k
Watching her was one of your favourite things to do; the way the soft dark brown curls bounced as she swayed around the living room, the way her cheerful laugh echoed every corner of the house and those big, brown eyes sparkled with pure innocent bliss - Lily was your everything, she was your whole life and though, at first, being a young single mum terrified your entire being, she became the reason of your existence. It felt like a lifetime, but it was just four years before that day that you were sitting where your dad was, on that large and comfortable armchair, with your feet up as you stared at a tummy poking out. You remember how that was the first time after finding out you were pregnant that you went from miserable to somewhat joyous to know a tiny human was growing inside you.
FOUR YEARS BEFORE
Every little thing bothered you to the point you’d grab the first object in front of you and throw it against the wall. Your hormones were everywhere, the nausea was unbearable and you knew it was a matter of time until you’d find yourself with another IV fluid bag hanging on your bedside. Four months of what had already earned the first place on your “lifetime worst experiences” list, when it shouldn’t be like this. You should be happy, and thrilled, planning your days and making a list of potential boy and girl names for your child. But you weren’t, considering this was far from what you expected of your first pregnancy.
The long sigh that parted your lips clashed against the daunting yet peaceful silence that took over Foxwoods House the minute your parents went out for grocery shopping after you insisted you’d be fine on your own for a few hours and how much you needed it. Even if they meant well and were just making sure you were healthy enough to be on your feet, all the attention could be suffocating, though their attention wasn’t focused only on you. Though exhausted, you tried your best to focus on relaxing once your eyes closed. 
Breathe in, breathe out. 
Slowly, you felt lighter, your body finally relaxing on your dad’s favourite armchair, and, unconsciously, your hands rested on your stomach and your eyes shot open when you noticed that there was something there that wasn’t the last time you touched it. Avoiding any kind of touching, talking, and staring at yourself in the mirror had been your way of coping with your new reality, even if it wasn’t a smart way of doing it. It wasn’t easier, either. 
“Oh hello,” you whispered, poking your tummy with your index finger. “I don’t think you can even listen to me yet, but… can you bear with me, peanut? Hm?” Brushing your thumb against your skin, your eyes burned with tears. You wanted things to work out, you wanted that kid to be born into a healthy environment even if it included just you — of course, your parents would be there, but in the end, you’d be a single mum. The idea of it terrified you but, deep down, you could feel some courage sparkling.
“I’m still new to this mummy thing, and I hope you’ll like me once you’re here with us, running around… but I promise you that I'll do my best.” 
Finally, you allowed the tears you were holding to fall, wetting your cheeks as you sniffed and quietly rubbed your stomach. For the first time since the pregnancy test was positive, you felt love engulfing you most softly. You felt peace and a strong motivation to fight for your child’s happiness. You’d be their best friend, the first person they’d think of whenever they needed something or whenever they were happy, sad, or confused. You’d be their everything because, as you watched that tiny bump, you realised they were your everything too.
PRESENT DAY
The final whistle blow and the loud groan that parted your dad’s lips brought you back from memories of the early and hard pregnancy days.
 It wasn’t the first time you watched your dad so upset that England was out of another World Cup, but this time Lily mimicked everything he did and as torturing as it was to watch, it was also funny. Both clapped their hands in front of the TV, mumbling words of encouragement to the squad though they obviously couldn’t hear it. Lily was dressed in her England kit, one of the many your dad bought her along with Arsenal kits, as he was a die-hard gunner and used to take her to most of the matches with him. There was no way Lily would grow up without football being such a huge part of her life. It was part of her and who she was, it was in her DNA - even if no one but you and your best friend knew about that.
Watching the scene in front of you became harder when he was on your dad’s big flat screen, and though your daughter was mimicking her grandad, she was the spitting image of him. Her dad.
For the past four years, you’ve found yourself doing your best to run from him but Mason Mount was pretty much everywhere you looked, being Chelsea’s star boy and part of the England squad. It hurt you, it opened a wound that you fought so hard to heal but he had to come back to haunt you now and then. You’d turn your look away, turn off the TV, and ignore his face whenever you drove by Stamford Bridge - but he was everywhere. He was on Lily’s face, bottom nose, and all. And, as far as you reminisced of his laugh, hers sounded identical. 
It hurt, it cut deep, and it made you swallow hard the horrible sensation that effortlessly took full control of you - so you had to inhale and exhale at a slow pace as soon as your sight blurred. Mason not being there for her still made you feel vulnerable, and not good enough for your daughter for you often felt like you were keeping her from being happier as she was always mentioning how much she wished her daddy was around, and you had either to make up dumb excuses or distract her with something else. You’d often listen to her through the baby monitor, crying out in whispers for her daddy - it always sounded like she was praying.
The warmth of your mum’s touch, softly squeezing your arm, made you feel slightly better and safe. She didn't know who Lily's dad was, but she knew what went through your mind whenever you spent too long gazing at your daughter. Not knowing the full story never stopped her from fully understanding you - she was a mum too.
“I'm alright,” you reassured her before she could say something, and watched her lips form a delicate line as a reaction to your words. She knew you were far from being alright - with Lily asking more questions than ever about her dad - but didn’t know what to say. It was something she’s never been through and thought you were both brave and a bit stupid for dealing with it all on your own, when even your dad, who wasn’t as warm as her, was entirely supportive since Lily became part of your lives. You adored them even more for being so respectful of your decisions.
“I never judged you and I never will, and I still wish you’d talk to me as you’ve always done… including anything affecting my granddaughter,” your mum confessed, doing her best to hide she was a bit upset, but failing miserably.
You nodded, moving your stare from Lily to your mum. “I see him every time I look at her, and it hurts me.”
“Because you still have feelings for him?”
“I don’t,” you were as quick as possible on clearing that question, it felt like a lifetime ago that Mason was the reason for the butterflies in your stomach and he managed to end that himself with his stupid behaviour. “It hurts me because my daughter is being deprived of a life with her father around.”
“You can always find him and tell him,” your mum moved her hand from your arm to your back, rubbing it softly.
“It’s not-” you sighed, brows furrowed, as your eyes searched for Lily again. “It’s not that simple.”
“It’s always simple, love. As a mum, you know it’s always simple when it comes to making your child happy.”
Always the optimist, your mum pecked your cheek before leaving you alone with your thoughts. Not knowing the truth never stopped her from giving you advice that’d often feel right, but so wrong at the same time. If Mason was any other normal guy, you would’ve let him know the day Lily was born and you held her in your arms for the first time, seeing how much she looked like him. 
You would’ve let him know the day she took her first steps.
You would’ve let him know the day she screamed her first word - a loud, cheerful “goal” when Arsenal scored, making your dad the proudest grandad in the world.
You would’ve let him know the day she kicked a ball for the first time.
You would’ve let him know because you’ve always wanted Mason around, simply for being around and raising that beautiful girl as best as you both could. But there you were, doing it practically alone.
“Mummy,” Lily woke you up from your thoughts, softly pulling your sweater while curiously staring at you with her big hazel eyes. She giggled when you took her in your arms, sitting her on the kitchen counter with her little legs around your waist. “Are you sad it’s not coming home?”
“Well, baby… I’m a bit sad because grandpa is sad,” you watched her pout, nodding in agreement, as you played with her hair around your fingers. “Why don’t you go there and give him all the smooches in the world, huh? Maybe that’ll cheer the old man up a bit.”
Lily nodded again, a bit more cheerfully this time and you put her back down, watching her rush to her grandpa he nestled her in his arms as she kissed his face and squeezed his cheeks with her chubby hands. The truth was you were more than glad that the torture was finally over, with no more of him on your TV while your dad proudly cheered for England and, consequently, for Mason whenever his gorgeous face showed up.
For the rest of the weekend, you enjoyed the cosiness of Foxwoods House and that included long walks with Lily, baking with your mum, and playing poker with your dad while you shared half a bottle of whiskey - one of many in his collection. 
Although you loved London, a life away from the city’s fuss had always been your goal, even more so after Lily was born so you’d often take advantage of your parents owning that huge estate and drive to Cotswolds to enjoy a few quiet days with your girl. You could tell how much she loved, always bringing up that there were just two things that’d make your getaway even more perfect: her daddy and a puppy. Usually, you’d just give her a smile as an answer and kiss her forehead, but on your drive back to London you thought about how Foxwoods would be such a great place for some family time.
On Monday, you quietly walked into the usual warmth of your office, only nodding at a few colleagues who cheerfully welcomed you back after a disappointing weekend for football fans. You spotted Willow, your childhood friend, walking towards you with two mugs of the steamy coffee you always shared in the morning in each hand, and a smile splattered on her face - to which you frowned, because Willow had never been the one in a good mood in the morning.
“I’m guessing you had a fun weekend?” You asked, taking a mug from her hand and closing the door behind you as she made herself comfortable by sitting in the armchair by the window.
“You’d know if you returned my calls, Y/n.”
“And you know how my dad is,” you shrugged, feeling your body happily welcome the hot liquid. A large dose of caffeine and chatting with your best friend was always the best way to start the day, and you were lucky to work in the same place as he – just a few doors away as you two were responsible for different departments at the Swedish fintech you’ve been working for a couple of years. “No phones allowed when it’s Foxwoods weekend unless it’s-”
“An emergency,” she chuckled. “I know, I know.”
“So?” You raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to tell you whatever she had to tell, as you lazily checked a few emails.
“I was feeling a bit bored on Saturday morning and decided to go to Paris.”
“Willow, you’re so fucking random…” You sighed and she rolled her eyes.
“Met with Arthur there, and we spent the weekend together.”
Arthur, her longtime french fling, the idiot who only showed up when he wanted something from poor delusional Willow.
“Well, can’t say I’m surprised, because I’m not,” you moved your eyes from the laptop screen to your friend, who still had that same smile on her face. “Why are you so happy, though?”
“I met his parents.”
“He introduced you to them?”
Then, when she sighed, you knew it wasn’t as she wanted you to believe and she was making a fool of herself again for a guy who just wasn’t interested. This time, there wasn’t a single trace of pride for being right, because it meant your best friend was now hurt. Deeply hurt. You watched her nervously chew the inside of her cheeks, sipping her coffee and looking out through the window as if there was anything fascinating outside.
“Hey,” you called her, bright green eyes looking at you. “Lily’s ballet recital is right before Christmas and rehearsals start today. Come with me.”
Finally, she flashed you a smile; one you loved seeing for a sad Willow made no sense as she’s always been the happiest person in your life, always cheering up everyone and looking after people while you looked after her, so she’d be fine too. The bond you two shared became stronger when you found out you were pregnant, and Willow had been there since day one - appointments, baby shopping, days you spent at the hospital due to HG¹, and sleepless nights when it hit you that Lily would grow up without her dad around. There was no one like Willow, she was the sister you never had.
You wrapped up work a bit earlier than usual so you’d, for once, make it in time for your daughter’s ballet class. It wasn’t unusual for your mum to pick her up from school and take her to classes, and even so, sometimes you’d arrive 10 minutes after all the mums had picked up their little ones once class was over. It made you feel horrible seeing Lily there, anxiously waiting for you, and getting overly enthusiastic when spotted you arriving at the studio - she’d smooch your entire face, and tell you how much she loved and missed you.
“Mummy,” she called you, squeezing your hand as you walked to the studio with Willow on your side. Looking down, you smiled so she’d continue. “Ice cream after ballet?”
How could a wrong choice in life guide you to this? To her? Almost four years later and it still overwhelmed you, because you never believed you had that unique thing that’d make you a mum, but somehow, you managed it just fine — with extra help from your family and friends, unquestionably, but at the end of the day it was just you and Lily. And her fish, of course. The only pet you allowed her to have for now, so she’d start to have some sort of notion of commitment. 
“We’ll see about that, peanut, but if we go then it’s on auntie Willie.” Lily giggled as a reply, entertained by the funny scowl on her godmother’s face for she knew that auntie Willie would do anything and everything she asked. 
“I’ll pay if you eat dinner first, Lils!” Willow said, and Lily sighed in return, as if her life was the most complicated she now had a tough decision to make.
She remained in silence for a while as you chatted about work with Willow, an important deadline approaching right before Christmas break and she knew someone would have to interfere or the firm would lose such a significant client like Nike. You thought that was the issue of making partnerships with companies that had their marketing branch and the ideas had to match.
That gentle hand squeeze was there again, Lily looking at you with her big, brown eyes that softened your entire being. “Mummy,” she called. “Can Summer come too if we go get ice cream?”
Summer, the ballet bestie you never met because you always dropped Lily at the studio later than the other kids normally arrived, and she was gone before you went back to the studio to pick up your daughter. You only knew what she looked like because one day Lily came home with a cute Polaroid picture of the two of them, taken by Miss Albright, the teacher. Your heart melted a little at how precious that was, the two girls clutching each other, tiny chubby arms around each other and big smiles on their faces — you could even swear they looked alike, maybe that was a bestie thing. 
“First I have to meet her mummy and make sure she trusts me, so she feels safe to leave her baby girl with me.” 
“Just like you do, mummy?” You nodded, a big proud smile on your lips at how easily Lily understood things. “My legs are tired.” She said, completely changing the subject and stretching both arms at you so you could carry her but Willow was faster and nestled Lily in her arms.
“A ballerina with tired legs? Oh my,” Willow faked a shocked expression, hands on her chest as she gasped, getting a cheerful giggle from Lily. You loved how she closed her eyes and tilted her head back whenever she laughed - your chest clenched at her adorableness.
“I played footy at school today, auntie.” Lily covered her mouth with her small hand, letting out a loud yawn. Your heart skipped a beat for a second, sharing a look full of meaning with your best friend as Lily laid her head on Willow’s shoulder and closed her eyes. “Mr. Martin said I’m good.” She mumbled.
Of course, she was good. How could she not be good at something that was part of who she was?
Willow gave you a comforting smile, knowing how much this could affect your mood, as you walked in silence into the ballet studio; a smiley Miss Albright welcomed you, gently pinching Lily’s chubby legs with a kind smile curling her lips. She was the most loving and understanding lady.
Lily quickly awakened from her short nap, impatiently wiggling her legs in the air so Willow would put her down. She stormed out to meet her classmates after blowing you and Willow a kiss - you left out a soft gasp, allowing the blissful effect that your daughter had on you to fully embrace you. Lily was constantly full of energy, always beaming, brightening the room every time she walked in.
Like her daddy, who had no idea about her existence.
A soft poke on your shoulder woke you up from your thoughts and you turned around to face a heavily pregnant woman accompanied by, apparently, her mum, considering they looked a lot like each other. They were both smiling at you, and the youngest pointed at your daughter, who was now clutching a little girl.
“Which of you are Lily’s mum?”
“Guilty,” you raised a hand, eyebrows softly furrowed as you let out a giggle. Taking another peek at the two little ballerinas, you frowned at how indeed they looked alike. It was easy to identify that one. “I assume that’s Summer, and you’re her mum?”
“Jasmine, but you can call me Jaz,” you shook hands, smiling at each other. She introduced you to Debbie, her mum, and you introduced her to Willow who quickly engaged in a cheerful chat with the woman.
“I’m Y/n. It’s lovely to finally meet you, Lily just won’t shut up about Summer,” you giggled, thinking of the never-ending talks about how your daughter’s ballet bestie is the… best. 
“She’s Summer’s current favourite person,” Jasmine said, linking her arm to yours and walking you to where the other mums were. That sudden loving gesture made a soft smile curl the sides of your lips - you weren’t friends with other mums, especially the ones from school. They were so hard to bond and you missed having someone else - who wasn’t your mum - who’d understand your daily routine of wonderful moments and struggling as a mum.
It was easy being around them, your mum arrived at the studio shortly before class started, and quickly bonded with Debbie about the wonders of being a grandmother; how they both spoiled the girls and were spoiled by them. 
The rehearsal went on fine, full of the cuteness of 4-year-old girls in baby pink tutus. You were happy to be there, so you could see how happy your daughter was as she occasionally waved between clumsy pliés and pirouettes. Nonetheless, she was a natural, and you weren’t being too biased — as a ballet dancer herself, Willow made sure to point out all the right things Lily was doing. Watching Lily so focused on everything Miss Bennett said, all the instructions she gave, and how your little one did everything so clumsy yet so perfectly made your eyes burn a little with some tears. You’d still think she was the most perfect creature even if she wasn’t your daughter.
Once the rehearsal ended, you spotted Lily yawning and blinking heavily, but you knew she’d remember the ice cream. Sometimes, you couldn’t negotiate nor change the little one’s mind, and she got all that stubbornness from you. 
“Mummy,” she started, and you took her in your arms, pressing soft kisses all over her face as she giggled.
“I know, my little monster. I didn’t forget your ice cream.”
When you invited your mum and best friend for dinner, they both apologised over and over, saying their time off had been exclusive to Lily’s rehearsal and they had to go — your mum, to your dad, because even after 30 years together they just couldn’t stay away from each other; and your best friend, back home, because she needed to meet her dad for dinner. That was when, kindly, Jaz invited you and Lily for Italian at a place she loved; when your daughter looked up to you with her best puppy eyes and the biggest pout she could pull off, you couldn’t say no. Lily knew very well that most of the time she did that you’d quickly say yes, the dimples showing up when she pouted made your heart melt.
And you were also looking forward to seeing your daughter and her new bestie interacting as if they were two adults, which happened, for your amusement. Though you were engaged in chatting with Jaz and Debbie, who were two sweethearts, you couldn’t help but feel completely hypnotised by how Lily behaved throughout the whole time you spent at the restaurant; she shared a colouring book with Summer and they both talked about school, ballet shoes, and pink tutus. 
Bonding with the two women was easy, especially with Jaz. You found out that Lily and Summer almost shared a birthday, with your daughter being just a few days older than hers; that you both had big families although you were an only child and she had three siblings. Debbie quickly explained that the siblings part was a bit complicated, but easy to understand, and in the end they were all family; she didn’t get into a detailed explanation, though, which you didn’t mind for it kept you from having to share something just because they shared too, although you noticed some curiosity sparkle in Debbie’s eyes when you mentioned it was just you and Lily living in a brand new flat that had more space. Your father kept teasing you about giving his favourite girl a puppy for Christmas, and you knew it’d end up in more than just teasing so you’ve decided that more space would be needed considering Lily wanted a golden retriever.
“Don’t forget about Moana, mummy!” The fish, your daughter remembered, to which you just nodded with a smile on your lips. 
You watched Lily having her strawberry ice cream as if there was no tomorrow, and you could only hope all that sugar wouldn’t keep her from falling asleep right after you bathed her or it’d be a long night trying to calm her down from a sugar rush. Jaz was going through the same struggle as she watched Summer; you noticed her eyes widening a bit but she giggled each time her daughter hummed in delight with one spoon after another of her chocolate ice cream.
When you said your goodbyes after sharing the bill, and before you left, Debbie kindly invited you and Lily over on Saturday for lunch, so the girls could spend a day together, playing, something they didn’t get the chance to do yet.
“Jaz will have her mocktail and I can make us some mojitos,” the woman said; Lily looked at you again with her pleading brown eyes, blinking heavily as she let out a long yawn.
“We’d love that, Debbie.”
After exchanging phone numbers and Instagram accounts, you went in different directions of the street - you wanted to squeeze both Lily’s and Summer’s cheeks when they blew each other a kiss after a long hug. Happiness washed over you seeing that it wasn’t hard for your daughter to make friends, and bond, even if not having her father around clearly affected her behaviour sometimes, often noticing that she, sometimes, was a bit needy and clingy - but also extremely kind and sweet.
Soon, you were home and while Lily went straight to her bedroom to pick clean pyjamas, you quickly fed her fish and met your daughter already waiting for you in the bathroom; ready for her bubble bath. Even clearly tired, she chatted the whole time, telling you how much she enjoyed dinner and that Summer was her best friend in the world - she also thanked you for being an incredible mummy and allowing her to spend Saturday with her friend, which made you swallow a sob at how adorable your daughter was. Raising that wonderful little girl mostly on your own was tough, but moments like this were proof of the fantastic job you were doing. 
Thankfully, after properly tucked under the covers, Lily mumbled an ‘I love you mummy’ and quickly fell asleep. You gently pressed your lips against her forehead, getting a sigh from her in return as if she had been waiting for it; when you walked into your bedroom, flickering heavily as you yawned, Lily was already snoring lightly - you chuckled at the baby monitor. You showered, switched into your pyjamas, and decided to check on your social media once you found yourself after the covers: there was a text message from Jaz but it was too late for a reply, and she also followed you on Instagram; you smiled at a picture of Summer in a pink tutu and of another one where the little one was between her parents, a wide smile, and her tiny arms was over their shoulders. 
But you wish you had never met Jasmine, or that your daughter had never met Summer at all when you found a picture of her entire family at a stadium, all of them dressed in England jerseys and a familiar face in the middle was on your screen when you decided to zoom in on the photo. You dropped your phone on your stomach, feeling your mouth instantly drying and your eyesight blurring - if you weren’t already in bed, the weakness you felt spreading from your legs through your body would bring you to the floor. 
Breathe, Y/n.
That was Mason, and it didn’t take you much to realise who precisely he was. Or who Jasmine was.
Mason was her brother.
Not believing what your eyes just saw, you went back to scrolling through her Insta and you felt your whole body trembling now, tears filling your eyes and rolling freely down your cheeks; there were a bunch of pictures with him, of the entire family on Christmas, of him with Summer. You felt the urge to vomit, your heart pounding against your chest so loud you could nearly listen to it. 
Mason was her damn brother.
Mason, the father of your daughter.
Lilian Maisie.
********* words:
HG: hyperemesis gravidarum: A severe type of nausea and vomiting during pregnancy.
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mnnuni · 10 days
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Always, more than enough
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Evan Buckley x Female reader
summary: Reader is going through somenthing at uni, but Buck's the perfect boyfriend words: 1484 warnings: smut Author's note: this is the first of my work that i ever publish, so please try and be kind. Also, english's not my first language so I'm sorry in advance for any mistakes and stuff
(Y/N) had just finished her last lesson of the day;she didn't imagine the second year could be even worse than the first, not that she didn't like her major or studying for it ... It was the ambience that she started to despise. Even if she found a solid group of friends, there was this bunch of girls that she really really couldn't stand. And it was so frustrating that at least one of them was in every lesson of her everyday schedule.
It wasn't like she argued with them or somethingbut the fact that they always had to say something about her and her life
The worst was when they spoke about Evan.He literally was the perfect boyfriend and (Y/N) couldn't tolerate their comment about their relationship.
"You sure he doesn't need a nurse? I could be his" said Sarah one time, and for this (Y/N) could blame her jealousy for her reaction because she knew Evan was an extremely attractive guy. But when Jennifer said "I really don't know why he's with you..." and then Carmen "yeah I'm sure he would want more than someone like you".
(Y/N) was sure of her relationship and in fact never really answered that type of comment...But there was that part of her she didn't have the strength to blame for being hurt about them.
How can a girl say that to another girl?
She couldn't answer that either.
(Y/N) was currently walking through theuniversity's courtyard to go to the bus station, all while recording an audio to her boyfriend about her day after he send her some texts when he woke up later in the evening after his shift.
"God I'm so fucking tired Buck, Mr Brown really has to learn how to not shout bec-" she suddenly stopped at the sign after her "no fucking way".
Her phone registered that too and when she arrived inches from Evan his phone rang for her notification.
"what the hell are you doing here?"
he was smiling.
God.
"surprise?" and then he smirked. (Y/N) nearly jumped to hug him and wrap her arms around his neck, but when they were about to kiss she reminded him "not here" and glanced around.
Evan knew she wasn't a fan of PDA and so when she would rather kiss him in private he didn't ask her too much about it. But now it was starting to feel strange she got so nervous near him at college...
"come on, you're at mine's tonight".
(Y/N) only smiled brighter and followed him to his car while she told him all about her day; and Evan listened to everything she said, every topic she defined interesting so he could bring it up later, every stop at the coffee shop she did so he would regulate her caffeine for the night and let her sleep, every essay she said she would forget so he could remind her eventually. He loved to listen to her. He loved when she rambled like that because she actually stopped his overthinking of everything when she did.
"shit! I was supposed to grab dinner at myparents's tonight" she suddenly said when they entered the car.
"already did that." He answered. She didn't know whether to be confused or impressed.
"I called your mum and told her my plan. Because I know how you hate Wednesdays and your mum cooks for you on them. After work I stopped at your parents'house and grabbed dinner -which by the way smelled delicious- and then came grab you"
Yeah... She was definitely impressed
She bent over Buck's car console and kissed him. (Y/N) was beyond grateful to have him in her life.
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The first thing (Y/N) did after she took off her shoes the moment Evan closed his house door was to grab his face and pull him in a desperate kiss. He was kind of shocked at the sudden urgency of her hands on him but he couldn't really complain, it was so long since they could kiss like this because of their packed schedules.
Bucks groans in (Y/N)'s mouth and starts to fidget with her jeans untill she stepped away to get off her shirt first. Buck was so distracted from kissing her breasts that he didn't realise she stripped down her pants too. (Y/N) took his face again and licked his lips, smiling, "now strip".
She was so demanding, Evan's cock twitched just for her tone. He quickly took off his shirt while (Y/N) turned around to go in the bedroom. It was then that he smirked, finally realising how tiny her panties were.
"look at that, my super smart slut" he said smacking her ass. She let out a yelp but she was smirking too while she led him to his room. Evan just followed like a lost puppy trying to get out of his jeans on the way.
The moment he saw (Y/N) finally, completely naked he pinned her to the wall and got on his knees
"can I?"
It was such a turn on that even after years of being together and the fact that (Y/N) was ready naked and all for him, Evan still asked for her permission.
She answered putting her hand through his hair and putting his head close to her.
He was so good at licking her.
It didn't last long because Evan was entering her pussy with his tongue and then he started sucking on her clit and -
"Evan" she breathed out.
The first time she did it, Buck was shocked at how he was affected by the sound of his name from her lips. But now he got addicted to it.
(Y/N) was a moaning mess and Buck started to alternate a lick and a bite to her lips, "Baby I-I really love this but-" , another moan at the sign of Buck stopping immediatly and looking at her from his lashes.
He was so hot.
"I need you".
That was enough for Buck to grab her by the thights and put her on the bed; he crawled over her and smiled but that didn't last long because (Y/N) started to stroke his cock and he fucking whimpered.
"Sweatheart" he started moving his hips in her hand, "yes baby?", she smirked at his flushed state "ple-se". (Y/N) put his cock near her entrance and when he felt her wetness Buck completly lost it and pushed into her. They both moaned at the new contact.
Evan gave her few moments to get adjusted before he started thrust so hard she scratched his back with her nails.
"Yes! Keep going Evan"
He kissed her neck and never once thought to change the pace because he could feel (Y/N) clench around him signaling him she was close. It was only when Buck started to moan more loudly that she allowed herself to really be in the moment and come on his dick. He followed shortly after her.
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They stayed on the bed readjusting their breathing and cuddling for another half an hour before Buck got up and microwed them some food to eat in bed. (Y/N) couldn't even think to get up, Evan only worsened her tiredness.
The atmosphere was so confortable while they eat half covered with Evan's sheet, (Y/N) covered in one of his shirt, that she thought it was the right moment to answer the dubts that was forming in her boyfriend's mind since some weeks;
"I'm sorry", he looked up at her confused but she wasn't looking at him so he knew she needed time to actually talk.
"Do you think I'm enough for you?" at this Evan put his napkin away and got closer to her "what are you talking about baby? You're everything for me"; (Y/N) left a breth escape her lips and a light smile starts to form on them, but she got Buck worry now.
"What happened (Y/N)?" he put his hand on her thigh and followed her eyes in order to got her to look at him. She breathed in again. "Some girls at school... let's just say they think you could do better than me". Evan immediatly wrapped his arms around her.
"Oh love, you know they only say this 'cause they're jelous of you", she chuckled "yeah i know, it's stupid and I'm sorry I got you upset by avoiding you around campus but i really hate when they comment about us and it's even more stupid because I never cared for others opinion but when it comes to you I-"
Evan stopped her by kissing her.
"Thank you for finally telling what you were stressing about" another kiss "don't ever think you have to apologize, to me of all people, for your feelings" another kiss "and don't you ever, ever think you're not enough"
(Y/N) smiled at him.
"I love you". It was her that kissed him now.
"I love you too".
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study-diaries · 24 days
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Math Tips
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(Pictures are not mine)
Well, let me tell you, we all have this love-hate relationship with this subject, right? The worst part is that when you don't know what the heck is going on, so, as a girl who studied maths (2 Volumes/textbooks) on her own during the year she was homeschooled, here are some tips and tricks that I did to get an A+ in my math finals!
Get your syllabus together
In the beginning I had no damn idea what was going on and it was just confusing. I had to do the first thing I did was taken my index/table of contents and mark the chapters which i knew very well and the ones I had no clue about. And then i arranged them with the marking scheme, like which one carries the most marks etc etc and study accordingly.
Complete lessons/chapters that you already know
When you finish off the things you already know then that's gonna give you the confidence you need even if you know only 1-2 chapters, learn it throughout and make sure that you'll get the answer no matter how twisted the sum is. If you're doubtful about the whole textbook like any normal person.... Start with the easy ones. (I know there are literally really no "easy" chapters, spare me)
Harder chapters need hard work
Most chapters like Trigonometry proofs, Geometry proofs, Algebra, Graphs, Mensuration and Calculus etc need more than minimum effort but here's a trick, what is the common thing in this? Yes, they're all formulae and theorem based which goes to my next point. These chapters are completely based on how much you've understood your basics.
Formulae and theorem cheatsheets
Make a list of all formulae and the theorem used in the book, write them chapter wise and no printouts or digital notes. Take a paper and write it down, no excuses. It helps you while you're practicing, revising and in the last minute review, it helped me damn much. Remember, maths is a sport. The basic formulae must come to you like reflexes.
YouTube is your best friend.
For every single chapter, go and watch the basics and how a sum is done step by step. A recommendation for this is Organic Chemistry Tutor who literally is one of the reasons i passed. He has videos from basic geometry, trigonometry, statistics to calculus. Search for your own YouTubers and be clear with concepts.
Math is fully memorization
Memorize formulae and theorems with the back of your hand, you should be able to recall them within seconds. Be thorough.
Memorize basic math values (if calculator isn't allowed)
Do this if you have a majority of chapters like Statistics, Mensuration, Profit/loss calculation etc, where large numbers are concerned. Memorize the first 10 square, cube, decimal and multiplication values. It may be dry but there are literally songs available for these things, I'm serious, i learnt the first 10 cube roots by listening to Senorita xD Search for rhymes and they'll definitely be many!!
Work it out!!!!!!
Can't stress this enough, atleast 30-40 mins is the minimum for maths. I'm serious, work out each sum, don't ever think it's a waste, you'll see the results. Practice makes perfect. Work out every single sum, from examples to exercise ones cause let's be honest, our examiners love to take problems from every nook and cranny of the book.
Whiteboard method
So, I made this up and it actually works, if you have a whiteboard or anything else, once you completed a chapter, take a random page and whatever sums you have on those two pages, you need to complete within a given time limit. It helps you to identify your weak points and where the hell you're losing both time and effort and not to mention that it gives you confidence boost up.
Hope this helps :))
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unreliablesnake · 6 months
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Hurt (Simon Riley x reader)
Summary: John calls you to the hospital where you get shocking news.
Note: part 2 of Surprises. / i know, i’m evil. my poor boy. / if you want to know when i post new stuff, follow @unreliablesnakefics and hit the get notification button.
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John called you, asking you to meet him at a hospital as soon as you could. You assumed something had happened to him, that he got injured. So you rushed there with your heart racing, your mind already in a spiral because of the images of worst case scenarios. But he called you himself, it couldn’t be that bad.
A broken leg, maybe. That you could help with. You could move in with him temporarily to make sure he was okay.
But when you met him in the hospital building, your brows furrowed in confusion. He was okay. He was standing there with a nervous look on his face, arms defensively folded over his chest.
“What’s going on?”
He hesitated for a few moments, visibly uncomfortable. “It’s Simon,” he said eventually.
Simon? You didn’t understand. Why would they call John if something happened to him?
“Listen, kiddo, he got hurt on our last mission. Badly,” he added to make sure you understood the seriousness of the situation.
But your mind got stuck on one particular word. “Our?” you asked with a frown, trying your best to remain calm. “I thought you only met at that family gathering.”
John took a step closer with his arms stretched out to take your hands in his. “I didn’t want you to worry. We’ve been working together for a few years now, so yes, I already knew him when you introduced him to us,” he explained.
You couldn’t believe they had been lying to you for over a year. But John said he had been badly injured, which made you forget about this for the time being. “Can I see him?” you asked your uncle.
“Yeah. He doesn’t have any family so I convinced the doctors and nurses to let you in.”
He led you to the ICU, asking the nurse he had apparently talked to earlier to let the two of you inside for a short while. It was a tough negotiation with her, but eventually she agreed to give you five minutes for now. You hesitated at first, but John soon realized this and squeezed your hand in support.
Simon was unconscious, tubes were hanging from different parts of his body, and the sight broke your heart. Your precious Simon was so badly injured and there was nothing you could have done to make it better. You were lucky John was there with you, because without him guiding you to the chair next to the bed, you would have collapsed onto the floor.
“What happened?” you asked quietly.
“You know I can’t answer that.”
“Right.” This is what you hated about his job. Their job. You never knew where they were, you never knew how long they would be gone, and you never knew how they got smaller injuries. “What did his doctor say? Will he be okay?”
John put a hand on your shoulder as he stood behind you. “He will survive this,” he replied.
“But will he be okay?”
“They don’t know.”
Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath. Why did it have to happen? Why him? Couldn’t it be someone else? “I can’t do this, John. Not now.”
“Why? What’s going on now?” your uncle asked you as he moved to look into your eyes.
“I’m pregnant,” you admitted. “I found out last week. Actually, you’re the first person I told about this.”
John let out a troubled sigh as he scratched his beard. You knew it wasn’t the right time to announce it, but you had to tell someone. Sure, it would have been better if it was Simon who found out first, but… Well, it wasn’t possible at the moment.
Your uncle wrapped his arm around your shoulder and pulled you against his body when your tears began to fall. “It’s okay, kiddo, I’m here for you until he returns to us,” he assured you.
“Do you think he can hear us?”
“I don’t know. Maybe,” he added, probably realizing he should be giving you hope in this situation.
You nervously licked your lower lip and leaned closer to the bed to take Simon’s hand. “You’re gonna be okay. You have to be okay. I need you to meet your child, I need you to be there for them, and I want you to see them grow up. And I love you so, so much, you can’t even imagine,” you said through your tears. “Please, come back to me.”
“Your time is up,” the nurse informed you, her voice now soft and understanding.
Nodding, you stood up and leaned down to place a kiss on your boyfriend’s forehead. “I’ll come back tomorrow.”
John put a hand on your back and guided you out of the room, stopping you from resisting and staying with Simon. You were grateful for that. You needed his support. Once you were outside in the parking lot, he came to a halt and gave you a worried look.
“Can you drive like this?” he asked. When you nodded, he went on. “I’ll go to your place with you and wait until you gather some clothes for a few days. You’re staying with me, okay? I don’t want you to be alone now.”
“Thank you,” you told him before giving him a hug. He had always been there for you, and it was comforting to know this hadn’t changed.
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